Riverstorm

by Tess Thompson

  I’ll change and be down in a minute.

  He changed from his jeans into a pair of shorts, a t-shirt, and some flip-flops.

  Lizzie was sprawled out on a lounge chair, wearing a bikini and Jackie O sunglasses. She held a little blond girl on her lap. Her niece. God, she’s cute. Those curls. And, Lizzie? Could she be more gorgeous? No, she could not. Lizzie looked like an actress from another time. Refined and classy. She had said he once made her feel like she was as pretty as Audrey Hepburn. She was. Not a question. Prettier than Audrey.

  She spotted him and waved. He crossed behind a row of people in lounge chairs sunbathing or reading. Young men and women mingled near the bar, drinking fruity cocktails. Teenaged boys tossed a football back and forth on one end of the pool. Toddlers splashed in a shallow pool, their mothers supervising with their feet in the water.

  Lizzie took off her glasses when he arrived at her chair. She was without makeup and looked about twenty years old. She looked remarkably better rested than when he’d seen her just a few days before. Gennie had told him River Valley had magic healing powers. Maybe she was right. The woman before him glowed from a few days in the sun. The dark circles under her eyes had all but disappeared.

  “Hi.” Lizzie smiled up at him, shielding her eyes with her hand.

  He perched on the end of the chaise. “Hey, gorgeous.” He couldn’t help but grin at her like a hopeless school boy. “You look beautiful.” He dragged his gaze from her to the little girl. “And who’s this?”

  “Beth.” The girl spoke with a slight lisp. An adorable lisp. She pointed toward the pool. “Mommy there.”

  He followed her outstretched hand. A pretty blond, almost fully submerged in the water, chatted with another woman.

  “She’s changed since I last saw her,” said Grant. “All grown up now.” She’d been a gangly college student ten years ago. Now she was the mother of this precious little girl. “Beth looks like her.”

  “I think so too,” Liz said.

  Peggy must have noticed Grant’s arrival because she was out of the pool and walking toward them. Tall and muscular with hair the color of dried hay, she was a beauty. The husband must be an idiot to leave her and this sweet little girl. He didn’t know what he had, the idiot. I give it a year and she’ll be snapped up by someone fantastic.

  He stood and held out his hand. “Hey Peggy. Great to see you.”

  “Hi Grant.” She smiled, but it was with some wariness. He had to win Lizzie and her sister over. What did he expect, that Peggy would’ve just forgotten what an ass he’d been? “I’m sorry for your loss.” The Teeny sisters always had impeccable manners. Some things didn’t change.

  He thanked her. Lizzie gestured toward the two empty lounge chairs next to her. “Sit, you guys. Beth and I were just agreeing that it might be time for a beverage and a snack.”

  “A beverage sounds good.” Peggy took the chair under the umbrella, leaving the chair next to Lizzie open for Grant. She lifted the flag on the back of her chair. “The service here is incredible, Grant.”

  “The town has changed a lot since we were last here,” Lizzie said. “This lodge is brand new.”

  He scanned the crowded pool deck. “It seems to be thriving.”

  “Tourist season,” said Peggy.

  A server came by and Lizzie ordered a cheese and cracker plate and glasses of wine for the women. Grant asked for a beer.

  “I’m going to take Bethy for a little dunk before we get the food,” Peggy said. “That’ll give you two a minute to catch up.”

  “Thanks, Pegs,” Liz said.

  After they walked away, Grant adjusted the umbrella to cover both chairs and sat back, taking in a deep breath of the clean, dry air.

  “How are you?” Lizzie asked. The concern in her voice almost choked him up. Keep it together.

  “It’s been a weird couple of days.”

  “No kidding,” Lizzie said.

  The server came by with their drinks. Liz thanked him, setting Peggy’s wine on the table in the shade.

  Grant took a sip of the beer, watching her. She had news. He could tell by the way she was fidgeting. “Out with it,” he said.

  She laughed. “How did you know?”

  “The way you keep crossing and uncrossing your legs.” Your hot legs.

  “I went out to see my cousin Lola last night. She remembers Mike Huller from high school.”

  “Holy crap.”

  “Lola said that she’d call an old friend—Ellen White—when and if you’re ready to see if she knows where he is. Apparently, this Ellen White has lived here forever and knows everything and everybody. Lola felt certain she would have answers for us. Are you sure you’re ready for the answers?”

  “I’m not ready. But I want them anyway.”

  She smiled, her gentle eyes softening him, making him porous and vulnerable.

  “That’s what I thought you’d say,” Lizzie said. “I’ll call Lola in a moment and let her know you’ve arrived and that we’d love any information she can find.”

  “This is all so surreal.”

  “For me too. Lola showed me the letters. There’s something there. She’s right.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “I will. But let me call Lola first.” Lizzie had already grabbed her phone from the bag under her hair.

  “Hi Lola. It’s Liz.” She smiled, nodding. “He is. And yes, he wants you to make the call. Okay. Great. I’ll keep my phone on.”

  **

  An hour later, the sun had lowered in the sky and intensified in heat. Most of the families had left the pool, including Peggy and Beth. The little one needed a nap and a break from the heat. Liz and Grant reclined in chaise lounges under the shade of an umbrella while she told him about the visit with Lola. He listened in amazement about the letters and what they might mean. Two litigators and a fifty-year-old mystery were enough to push aside all thoughts of his own troubles. They’d properly dissected the clues from the letters and had agreed that Liz’s next step was to find Rosemary. They were about to launch into full investigative mode when they were interrupted by Liz’s phone buzzing with an incoming call.

  “It’s Lola.” Her eyes widened. “This is it. Answers.”

  He sat up, bringing his legs to the floor. What did he want? Answers or dead ends? Which would be easier?

  “Hi Lola.” The crease between her eyebrows deepened. At least a minute passed as she continued to nod and murmur. Lola knew something or the call would have ended already. He pressed his hands into his bent knees. What did she know? “I see. All right. I’ll tell him.” She hung up, setting the phone aside. “You ready for this?”

  “God help me, but yeah.”

  “He’s alive and quite well. Not only does he still live here, but he’s like the honorary mayor of River Valley. Everyone knows him and loves him. The sawmill closed, but he’s been integral to the revitalization of the town. And get this—he’s a friend of Stefan and Gennie’s. They know him well. He’s part of a large group of friends they’d made when they were here. He owns half this town, including part of this lodge.”

  “Jesus. How can this be?”

  “I don’t know.” She smiled. “But it is. Lola didn’t tell Ellen why she was asking about him. She thought you might like to think about whether to contact him. Regardless, she’s texting me his number. Ellen said he hangs out at the Riversong bar on Friday nights with his new wife. He got married a couple of years ago. Two sons. Neither lives here.”

  “Oh God.” I have brothers. Would any of them want to meet him? Or would they send him away? Was he setting himself up for more heartbreak? “Lizzie, what do I do?”

  She covered her mouth with her hand like she did when she was thinking something through.

  He looked away, studying the mountain in the background. His father was here in the shadow of this very same mountain. His family had been here for generations. My family. People to whom he might belong.

  He looked back at Liz
zie. She watched him with an odd expression on her face.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “It’s just weird you’re here. That I’m here. Just everything.”

  He leaned close, brushing her lips with his. “The universe has been leading us to this day for a long time. Apparently, we’re a little dense, so it had to go big.”

  She smiled. “Maybe.” Quiet for a moment, she adjusted her body away from the slant of sun on her chaise. “I think you should call him on the phone first.”

  “That’s reasonable. It’ll give him a chance to decide if he wants to meet in person.” He swallowed the fear that had crawled into his chest. “My sister asked if I was prepared for rejection.”

  “Are you?”

  “Not really.”

  She played with the hair on his forearm. “No matter what, I’ll be here to pick up whatever pieces need picking up.”

  He swept his finger over the bridge of her nose. Just a few days on vacation and freckles had scattered over her nose and cheeks. “All my life I wanted a place that felt like home. That place was you.”

  “If it’s still just me, will that be enough?”

  “More than enough. The rest’s just gravy.” He kissed her inner wrist. The tropical scent of her sunscreen and heat of her skin distracted him. He wanted to take her upstairs and forget about everything but pleasing her. Now is not the time. Focus on winning her back, not your needs. “I don’t know if this is a good idea or the worst one I’ve ever had.” He folded his body in half and rested his head in his hands.

  “Finding the truth is never a bad idea.” She put her hands in his hair and kissed the top of his head.

  “Unless it is.”

  She chuckled. “Right. Come on. Let’s go upstairs. You can call from there.”

  As he should have been doing for the past ten years, he followed her lead.

  **

  In her room, he made the call.

  It had rang four times before a deep voice answered. “Mike speaking.”

  “Hi. Um, Mike Huller?”

  “That’s correct. But I don’t take too kindly to sales calls, so you may as well just hang up if that’s what you have in mind. Whatever you’re selling, I already have it.”

  “No, no. I’m not a salesman. I’m calling on a personal matter.” He looked at Lizzie. How in the world did he say this?

  She gave him a reassuring smile. “Just say it,” she mouthed silently.

  “I see. What can I do for you?” Mike’s voice had softened.

  “Tell him straight out,” Liz whispered.

  “My name’s Grant Perry. My mother was Lily Pierson. I have reason to believe I might be your son.”

  That was met with silence on the other end of the phone for at least five seconds. Sweat dribbled down Grant’s spine. He sank into the chair by the window. “My birthday’s December 20th, 1983.” As if he’d asked.

  Finally, Mike spoke. “Lily Pierson’s your mother?”

  “Yes.”

  “You said was. Past tense.”

  “She passed ten years ago. Suicide.” Grant pressed his free hand into his closed eyes.

  “Suicide? No. That can’t be right. Not Lily.”

  “She was depressed.” Obviously. No need to state the obvious.

  Again, silence for several seconds. “Your birthday’s December 20, 1983. Is that what you said?”

  “Correct.”

  “How…how did you know about me?”

  “My dad died several days ago. My sisters and I were cleaning out his house, and I found a box. A hidden box.” Grant couldn’t bring himself to describe the box’s location. Hidden in the box spring of my father’s bed. Tawdry and dirty family secrets. I didn’t think my mother had any secrets other than her wish to die. “There were letters in there from you to my mom, along with photographs.”

  “Photographs?”

  “They’re of my mother when she was a young woman and a man with his arm around her. In one of them, they’re…kissing. Your name and River Valley were scrawled on the back of the photos. And the year. 1983.” No, scrawled was the wrong word. “Not scrawled. Written perfectly. Like with great care.”

  “What was in the background of the photos?”

  “A cherry tree. The man held a cowboy hat in his hand.”

  “Springtime.” It was not a question. He knows the photographs.

  “My parents were married in July, which tells me she was pregnant when they got married. Given the dates of the letters and my birthday…” He couldn’t continue.

  “You’ve concluded that the man in the photograph could be your father.”

  Grant heard the squeak of a door opening and closing. “Simple math.” Why had he said that? Did he sound condescending?

  “I’m finding this a little hard to take in. I must sound like an idiot,” Mike said.

  “I feel the same way. But I had to call.”

  “I understand completely. You had to. If I’d had any idea about you, I wouldn’t have left a stone unturned until I found you.”

  “So you didn’t know about me?”

  “My God, no. I had no idea. After we ended things, I never heard from Lily again. I tried to find her years later, but it wasn’t like it is now. There was no trace of her.”

  “Is it possible she was seeing my dad and you at the same time?” Grant asked. My dad who isn’t my dad.

  “They say love is blind, but I don’t believe there’s any way in hell she was seeing someone else. We were in love. Anyway, she wasn’t that type of person. I was the one at fault. I was married. Separated. But my wife came back. It was a mess.”

  “It’s all in the letters. I know what happened. You made a decision based on what you thought best for your boys. No one can blame you for that.”

  “I’m a man with a lot of regrets. Letting your mother go was one of them. Might be number one, if you want to know the truth.”

  “Yeah, I have one of those too. Just so happens to be a woman,” Grant said.

  “Well, if I am your father, you can blame your poor judgment on me.”

  Grant smiled. Mike Huller had a good sense of humor.

  “I made the best decision I could back then, thinking it was best for my boys. Turns out their mother left again when they were teenagers. In hindsight, it hurt them worse when they were older. I should’ve never taken her back. But listen, I want to know the truth, as I’m sure you do. Should we do one of those DNA tests like on TV?”

  “That’s all I ask. If you don’t want to be part of my life, that’s fine. I mean, it’s a little late for a fishing trip.”

  “It’s never too late for a fishing trip.”

  He believes I’m his son. It’s in his voice.

  “I can come to you. Wherever you are,” Mike said.

  “I live in Los Angeles normally. I’m an attorney. But I’m in River Valley.”

  “You’re here?”

  “I drove over from Legley Bay this morning. That’s where my father’s house is.” He went on to explain his other connections: Stefan and Gennie; Liz and her cousin Lola.

  “Well, holy smokes. If that ain’t fate, I don’t know what is. Heck, if you’re here, how about you come over for breakfast tomorrow.”

  “Sure. Yeah. That would be great.”

  “Nine work for you?” Mike asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  After exchanging phone and address information, Grant hung up the phone. He looked over at Liz who sat on the bed watching him with an anxious expression. “He suggested a DNA test. And, he wants to meet me. Tomorrow.”

  “He sounded nice?” Liz jumped from the bed and crossed the room to him.

  “Yeah. And stunned. He had no idea. I could tell it was the truth.” He’d cross-examined a lot of people over the years. He knew when someone was lying. His mother hadn’t told Mike she was pregnant. Instead she’d married someone else and continued to lie to her son for the next twenty-four years.

  As if she heard his
thoughts, Liz sat on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. “It was brave to call him. I’m proud of you.”

  He held her close, breathing in the scent of her hair. “You’re my lucky charm.”

  “Are you saying I’m like a leprechaun?”

  “The prettiest leprechaun in the world.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Liz

  LATER THAT AFTERNOON, per Gennie’s suggestion, Liz called Lee Tucker to introduce herself and let her know of their arrival. They chatted like old friends for ten minutes. Liz’s explanation about her connection to River Valley brought the expected exclamations, as did the story of rekindled romance with Grant. She didn’t mention anything about Mike. That could wait until the results of the DNA test came through.

  “You must bring everyone to dinner at Riversong tonight,” Lee said.

  “We’d love it,” Liz said.

  That evening, they left Beth with a sitter at the lodge and Grant drove the sisters out to get Lola and take them into town for dinner.

  Lola wasn’t quite ready when they arrived, so Liz and Peggy took Grant on a walk around the property. “There’s the tree where our swing used to be.” Liz pointed to a dead tree near the barn. “Lola said it got some kind of disease and the top fell off and then it died.” It was nothing but a tall, dried out stump now.

  “We loved that swing,” Peggy said.

  They walked out to the edge of the yard. Tall, dry grasses had replaced the cow pasture. “They used to have cows and horses, but now it’s all overgrown.”

  “Uncle Jimmy kept everything tidy,” Peggy said. “It looked nothing like this.”

  “Do you remember the root cellar?” Liz asked.

  “Sure.” Peggy gestured toward the hillside. “It was built into the side of the hill, Grant.”

  “Is it still there?” Grant asked.

  “Let’s find out,” Liz said.

  They wandered over to where they thought it was and found it after a few minutes of searching. The door was overgrown with moss and ivy, but it opened when they tugged on it. In turn, they poked their heads inside to have a look around. Without a light, it was too dark to see much, but Liz spotted shelves with empty canning jars.