by Shari Green
For you
Alan says
if you want.
Plant whatever you like
maybe dig up a few things
from your old house
to get you started.
I gawk at the garden plot
turn to stare
at Alan.
Bethany is hanging
off one side of him
Kaitlin
the other side
all three of them
grinning.
Thank you
I say
too stunned
to say anything more.
Maybe I won’t tell Mom
just yet.
Maybe she doesn’t have to know
about the kidnapping
today…
but the days
are running out.
Chapter 34
Uncle Caleb’s plane arrives late
on Friday afternoon.
We have to dash
from the airport to the church
so we’re not late
for the rehearsal.
Gran and Grampa got into town yesterday.
Gran had barely settled in
before she started cooking up a storm
preparing for tonight’s special dinner
filling the house
with mouth-watering smells
—cabbage rolls
roast beef
chocolate cake.
We park beside the church
rush inside.
Everyone else
is already here
—Alan’s mother
brother
brother’s wife
Mom’s friends Macy and Duckie
—all here
for a practice run
so we’ll know where to stand
what to do
for the wedding.
There’s an interpreter—James—
who will sign
the whole wedding service.
Now, Mom and Alan face each other
as the minister explains
about the vows
and suddenly it feels
so real.
How did I let it get this far?
It’s really happening.
It can’t.
Mom and I are a perfect team
a just-right-as-we-are story
and I can’t stand
losing that.
The little seed of sadness
or guilt
that’s been nagging me
since I asked Olivia to help me research
tries to push through.
I bury it
a bit deeper.
I’m almost out of time
must stop this
tonight.
When the rehearsal’s over
we pile into cars
drive back to the house
pour into the living room and overflow
to the kitchen.
Gran pulls cabbage rolls from the oven
a layered salad from the fridge
while Uncle Caleb pours drinks.
Duckie slips me a glass
of champagne
—pale gold
and fizzy
like ginger ale.
I take a sip
sputter
cough
leave the glass by a lamp
on the end table.
Bethany and Kaitlin climb
into Mom’s rocking chair
get it zipping
back
and forth
so fast
I’m sure
they’ll tip
but they
don’t.
All around the room
jaws flap
as everyone yakety-yaks
laughing
joking
nobody bothering
to sign.
I sure could use James now
but I won’t see him again
until tomorrow
at the church.
The crowd seems to close in.
This is happening
—all of it—
the wedding
the move
the wrecking of my family
and life
as I know it.
I need to escape
to my garden
or curl up
in the window seat
disappear in a book
but I’m trapped
in my own house
lost
in my own story.
Wait.
Am I writing this story?
Movement around me stops
like someone hit the pause button
faces all turn
toward the kitchen doorway
where my mom stands
glowing.
“Dinner’s ready,”
she says.
We can’t all fit
around the table.
People fill their plates
with Gran’s cooking
claim seats
wherever they can find one
sit with their dinner
on their lap.
Aren’t you going to eat?
Mom asks me.
I can’t
I tell her.
I feel sick.
She’s never done the typical mom-thing
the hand-on-forehead thing
but of course
I don’t have a fever
anyway.
Instead
Mom tips her head
to one side
purses her lips
tries to see
inside my thoughts.
I cross my arms
over my chest
set my jaw.
Mom’s brows
scrunch together.
It’s now
or never.
A little paint
and a garden plot
don’t erase that news story
—I know what I saw
what I read
what he did.
I take a big breath
let it out
and then my hands
take over.
You can’t marry him
I say.
You can’t.
You don’t know
because he seems nice
acts nice
but really
he’s a horrible person.
You need
to call the wedding
off.
Chapter 35
Mom’s face changes
from confused
to angry
with a large dash
of embarrassed.
Her eyes flash at me
cheeks flaming.
That’s quite enough
she says.
The room is still
all eyes searching
from me
to Mom
questioning
unsure
what we’re saying.
I block them out
turn back
to Mom.
You need to know this
I say.
He took them.
I gesture
toward the twins.
Kidnapped them
disappeared
to Mexico.
What kind of father
does that?
That’s ridiculous.
She doesn’t believe me
must believe me.
Is it even safe
for us to be with him?
Mom turns away
speaks to her friends
family
the kidnapper
all gathered
squeezed into our kitchen.
By habit
her hands move
as she speaks.
I’m so sorry.
I don’t know
what’s gotten into Macy.
No. It’s not me.
It’s him.
She needs to know
needs to believe me
she can’t marry him.
I slam my fist
on the table
silverware jumps
attention snaps
to me.
Anger and fear
rush through me
arm flings out
finger stabs
at Alan
and a single word
bursts
from my mouth.
“Kidnapper!”
No one moves.
Uncle Caleb is frozen
a slab of roast
skewered on his fork
suspended halfway
between the platter
and his plate.
Then the kidnapper stands
gestures helplessly at Mom
mouth moving
in what must be
a nasty lie
or a lousy excuse.
I bang the table again.
Alan’s gaze flicks to me.
Sign!
He signs carefully
deliberately.
It wasn’t like that.
Mom gapes at him.
But it happened?
Sort of. Not really.
Mom reaches for a chair
face lily white
sinks
onto the seat.
Alan steps toward me
like he wants to keep this private
just between us
but it’s too late
way too late.
You’ve got it wrong
he says.
You don’t understand.
I move back.
I understand.
You’re a kidnapper
can’t be trusted
and there’s no way
you
are going to be
my stepdad.
I push my way out of the room
past Duckie
wild friend Macy
Grampa
glance back
and see Alan and his brother
heads bent
talking
probably plotting.
Maybe they’re both
kidnappers
a whole family
of kidnappers.
I search out Bethany and Kaitlin.
Should I take them with me
rescue them
protect them?
I turn away
stride down the hall
close myself
in my room.
Chapter 36
Alone
away from the crowd
and the kidnapper
I curl up on my bed
face the wall
swipe at my cheeks.
For some stupid reason
I’m crying
can’t stop
no matter how hard
I squeeze shut my eyes.
I had to do it.
And now
the wedding’s off.
Of course
the wedding will be off.
My mom would never
marry a kidnapper
on purpose.
After forever
I turn over
pull up the neck of my tee shirt
to dry my face.
Now would be a good time
to be in my garden
satiny petals
tickly leaves
array of colors
perfect blend
of sharp and soothing scents
all working together
to cheer me up.
I’m not sure
why I need cheering up.
When my door beacon flashes
I know it’s Mom
wanting to come in
and I’m so ready
for a hug.
I open the door
but there’s no hug
no open arms
and definitely
no cheering up.
Mom steps inside
shoves the door closed
sits me down
and starts to lecture.
The fire in her eyes
shoots out through her hands
punctuates
her signs.
How could you?
Mom says.
If you really thought
he was a kidnapper
you should’ve asked me about it
in private
talked to me sooner
—not wait until now
not blurt it out
in front of everyone
not ruin
this special night.
Why is she so angry
at me?
She’s supposed to be mad
at Alan.
But he is a kidnapper!
I wanted to tell you before
but I couldn’t.
Mom looks up at the ceiling
as if searching
for calm
takes a slow breath
turns her attention
back to me.
Alan is most definitely
not
a kidnapper.
But the newspaper said—
Stop
she says
bringing one hand down
slapping the side of it
against her other palm.
You need to hear
Alan’s side of the story.
She sits on my bed
tucks one leg up
reaches
for my hands.
I wait
letting her hold my hands.
She finally releases them
smoothes my hair
sighs.
Then she tells me
the whole thing.
Afterward
Mom leaves me in my room
tells me to stay there
not return
to the party.
I’m banished.
Chapter 37
I sneak into Mom’s office
log on
to her computer
email Olivia and tell her
how Alan’s ex-wife Alexis
had problems
wasn’t stable…
how the trip to Mexico
was meant to be a family vacation
the first time
they’d been on holiday
since the twins were born
planning
tickets
excitement
but then Alexis
couldn’t deal with it
decided she couldn’t go
wouldn’t go
needed time alone
to think
and rest.
I tell her how Alan and the girls
went without Alexis
and then she changed her mind
wanted them back
but instead of just missing them
she got angry
made accusations
called the police and said Alan
took the kids
ran off
left the country.
And finally I tell Olivia how
after they came home
got things straightened out
police left
dust settled
Alexis told Alan
she wanted a divorce
didn’t want to be married
anymore
and in the end
she didn’t want the girls
either.
Olivia messages me back
a single word:
Oops.
A minute later
another email appears
an apology
and I can tell Olivia feels awful
but really
it’s my fault.
I log off
slip back down the hall
to my room
flop
onto the bed.
I haven’t put a stop
to the wedding
to Alan
becoming my stepfather
to leaving my garden
my window seat for reading
my red front door
on Pemberton Street.
All I’ve done
is make everyone
mad at me.
I believe
I’m in the depths
of despair.
The strange thing
is that seed of sadness
and guilt
—the one I buried deep
so it wouldn’t stop me
from digging for dirt
on Alan—
that seed
seems
to be sprouting
unfurling
and it’s not at all
what I expected.
My family history project
