#1-3--The O’Connells

by Lorhainne Eckhart

  Just then, her cell phone rang, and Ryan’s number was on the screen.

  “Hi, did you find her?” she said, slipping off the stool and pressing the phone to her ear. Suzanne, Karen, and Iris talked in low voices behind her.

  “She’s in the park with Ollie. Marcus is already on his way out there.”

  “I’m coming, Ryan,” she said. She thought she heard someone else in the background.

  “Thought you’d say that,” he replied. “I’ll be pulling up in a few minutes to pick you up. Be ready.”

  She hung up the phone, flooded with relief. This was something Wren would never have done. “That was Ryan,” she told the others, gesturing toward the door with her thumb. “They found her. He’s picking me up so we can go get her.”

  “Go,” Iris said and started toward her. She set her hand on her shoulder, rubbing, and then hugged her. “Then, once you’re settled,” she continued, “I’d like to meet her.”

  Jenny couldn’t explain this feeling of acceptance, and she knew Iris wouldn’t care how off the rails her daughter was.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “She’s not here,” Marcus said. He was walking their way, shining a flashlight toward them.

  The night had settled in as Jenny stood beside Ryan’s truck, which was parked in the backwoods lot at the base of the trail. Luke, who’d been in the back seat, stepped around her and placed his hand on her shoulder for a second. Something about being there now with Ryan and his brothers felt surreal. It had from the minute he’d pulled up as she walked out of the house.

  “What do you mean, she’s not here?” Jenny said. “Ryan, you said you talked to Ollie.”

  “Yeah, we did,” Marcus said. “He’s here.”

  She hadn’t seen the gangly teen beside him, whose hands were shoved in the pockets of his baggy jeans. His hair was on the longish side.

  “Ah, sorry, I guess you’re Alison’s mom?” Ollie said.

  She kept moving and found herself standing beside Ryan, unsure what to say to this boy. Everything seemed so awkward, and she welcomed the darkness, because it gave her a feeling of anonymity that she couldn’t have explained. “I am. So where is my daughter? I understand she was with you. I’d like to know what she’s thinking and what she’s doing out here, because this is beyond anything I expected—not that I know what to expect anymore.”

  “Look, she was here,” Ollie said, “but she heard me talking to my dad and Deputy O’Connell, and when I told them I was here and she was with me, she got really mad. She said she wasn’t waiting around. She was going up to the shelter I showed her, a place we go just to hang out. I tried to stop her and called her, and I was about to go after her when I heard you coming.” He was looking at Marcus, and all Jenny could think was to wonder what the hell was going through Alison’s head.

  She was at a loss for words, but she finally got her tongue to move. “Where did she go? Why is she running? Ryan, what the hell is it with her? I can’t believe she’d do this—but at the same time, I can. Like, why is she doing this to me? It’s cruel. All I did was try to protect her…”

  “I know,” he said. “Hey, we’ll find her. This isn’t all on you. Alison has some responsibility here, too.” He had his hand on her shoulder, and she turned to face him and allowed his arm to linger. It felt good. “Look, I’ll go after her,” he said. “I’ll find her.”

  And she knew he would. She really believed it.

  “Where exactly is this shelter, kid?” Luke said.

  Jenny was still leaning against Ryan as she turned and took him in. She was touching his arm. She still wanted to wring her daughter’s neck.

  “At the first mile marker, a fork in the path,” Ollie said. “Look, I like Alison. When she showed up at school, she didn’t fit in, just like me, so we clicked. She seemed kind of lost and everything. She said you’re her dad. She saw you today…” He was pointing at Luke, who was standing right in front of him, arms crossed, looking down at him.

  “Yeah, you approached me as I came out of the beer store. She asked me to buy her beer. You follow me or something?”

  The kid shrugged. “She knew your name. You were easy to find. We were actually outside your house, and we followed you this afternoon to the liquor store, I didn’t expect her to ask you for beer. She said she wanted to just talk to you, but I guess she chickened out.”

  “Well, he’s not her father,” Ryan said. “I am. She had the wrong O’Connell.”

  Jenny stood there, wondering if this was where her daughter had been when she was supposed to be in school. She couldn’t shake her feeling of frustration and helplessness.

  “I know where that shelter is,” Luke said. “Sounds like the one I built way back when, kind of a lean-to under three fir trees…”

  Ollie nodded. “Yeah, that’s it. Great view. Overlooks the valley.”

  “She’s going to find it in the dark?” Marcus said.

  “Look, I know the way up,” Ryan said. His hand was still on her arm. “Maybe we can get a search party started, too. If she’s lost, she could be just about anywhere. How long ago did she take off?”

  “I’m right here.”

  There was that feeling of surrealness again. It took Jenny a second after hearing the voice that came out of nowhere to realize that it was her daughter.

  “Alison?” she said.

  Marcus and Ryan shone their flashlights, and there was her daughter, wearing a loose tank top, low cut, and those godawful jean shorts that were so high Jenny knew her butt cheeks were hanging out. She squinted in the light as she walked closer.

  “Hey, Alison,” Marcus said. “A lot of folks have been worried about you.”

  Jenny was still taking in her daughter. She couldn’t remember ever having seen her look so damn vulnerable. She started over to her and pulled her into her arms. “I am so angry at you,” she said. “Why didn’t you tell me that your dad had told you he wasn’t your father? Running off like this isn’t the answer, Alison. And cutting school…” She held her daughter away from her, really looking at her. It was dark out, but the flashlight was behind her. Still, she was having trouble making out what her daughter was thinking or feeling. She felt her shrug.

  “I heard you just now,” Alison said. “Did you know he was my father?”

  Jenny didn’t have to look behind her to know she was talking about Ryan, as she could feel him step up behind her.

  “It seems we have a lot to talk about, Alison,” he said. “But yes, I’m your father, not Luke. I guess I’d like to know a lot of things, but how about we get out of here, and then we can sit down? I have questions, and I’m sure you do, too. We can talk, the three of us, your mom, you, and me.”

  Her daughter stiffened, and Jenny could feel her anger. “He didn’t know about you, Alison,” she said. “I didn’t tell Ryan. There was no reason to. I was already with your dad. We got married, and he wanted to be your father—but at the same time, I didn’t know Wren told you. He never wanted you to know. I know things got bad, and what happened…”

  Alison said nothing. Jenny knew there was so much more that her daughter knew and she didn’t. She could feel everyone watching, listening.

  Then Ryan somehow maneuvered her and Alison into his pickup, and he climbed behind the wheel and simply said, “Luke’s riding with Marcus.”

  When he started the truck, she didn’t miss the way he glanced in the rear-view mirror at Alison in the back seat. Instead of saying anything else, he put the truck in gear and just drove.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Ryan felt a sense of urgency he never had before as he drove in silence with the woman who’d haunted him since that night together so long ago, and the girl in the back seat who appeared to sulk in silence. He tried to see some of himself in her, a resemblance through the painted face, the hair dye, through everything she seemed to be trying to change about herself.

  He could feel her hurt, pain, trauma as he drove in the darkness down their street, and stil
l no one had said a word as he pulled up and parked in the driveway in front of his house, beside hers.

  He turned off the truck and stepped out just as Alison and Jenny did. “We’re talking now, at my house,” he said and gestured to the darkened windows. Both just stared at him. He couldn’t have explained to anyone why he needed to control his turf.

  “I want to take a shower,” Alison said, then shut the door and started walking around the truck to her house. She wasn’t about to make any of this easy. Jenny sighed from where she stood on the other side of the truck, and she didn’t have to say a word.

  “Hey!” Ryan called out. “Stop walking right now.”

  But Alison was already across the brown grass to her house and heading up the stairs. He started after her, and Jenny fell in beside him.

  “See what I’m up against?” she said. “It’s not you, Ryan. She’s just not going to go quietly and listen.”

  “She needs some ground rules…”

  “You see how well that’s worked so far? Or is this where you try to say that because you’re her father, a man, you can get her to listen more than I can?”

  That was the reality of it, but he hadn’t expected her to say so. Jenny followed Alison inside, where the lights were already on, and Ryan felt himself drowning. How had his mom ever done it with six of them? They hadn’t made it easy, either. He was sensing the impossibility of it as he followed Jenny inside. Alison was already on the staircase.

  “Hey, stop!” His voice was loud, and the demand was clear.

  He expected her to keep going, to ignore him, but she stopped, and for a second he could see how rattled she was, maybe at his tone.

  He walked over to the staircase and rested his hand on the rail. “You can shower after, but we’re talking first. Come on down here,” he said, staying right where he was.

  She stood there, as in a standoff.

  When he took in her indecency, the little she was wearing, it was on the tip of his tongue to ask her to change. Instead he said, “Your mom told me what happened in Atlanta, the shooting…”

  He wasn’t sure what to make of her expression. She was just a kid trying to be an adult and failing miserably.

  “Come on down here now,” he continued and gestured toward her, the same motion he used with troublemakers in the park, and he couldn’t have explained his relief as she walked back down, though dragging her heels.

  He gestured to the living room, where he’d sat more than a few times while Althea served him tea and something freshly baked from the oven. He allowed his gaze to slide over to Jenny, who was watching her daughter, watching him, as if she expected this to be a trick or for something to go completely haywire.

  “Is it true?” Alison said, like an accusation.

  “Yes. I told Ryan what happened.”

  “No, about him being my father.” She jabbed her arm toward him as if he were no one, and she sounded furious, as if him being her father was the worst thing possible.

  Jenny strode into the living room and took a seat in one of the easy chairs, and Alison took up a spot by the window, standing. Was there anything of him in her face? She had Jenny’s brown eyes, those amazing big brown pools, but her mouth and the way she held it so stubbornly seemed so much like an O’Connell.

  “Yes, Ryan is your biological father,” Jenny said.

  “Why would you hide it?”

  It seemed Alison operated from only two emotions, anger and resentment, but Jenny sat so calmly in the chair, tapping her fingers on the arm as if considering what to say. Ryan knew there was so much more about her that he didn’t know.

  “I met your dad…” she started.

  “Wren isn’t my dad!” Alison said, cutting her off, and Ryan realized she also had only two ways of talking to her mom, either yelling at her or ignoring her.

  “Do you not want to know, Alison?” Jenny said. “Because I’m getting really tired of the way you’re talking to me as if you hate me. Enough, already. Sit your ass down over there and listen for once in your life. This anger you have for me, I’m done with it. Everything I’ve done has been for you, so I’m just asking for a little give here, Alison. You want answers? Then sit down and shut the hell up and just listen!” She pulled in a breath as if she’d run a marathon, and Ryan could feel her anger, how unsettled she was.

  “Look, let’s all calm down,” he said. “Alison, sit down. Jenny…” He strode over to the sofa, gesturing to it.

  Alison wrapped both her hands around herself, tapping her foot, the anger rooting her to her spot. He could see her considering something, ready to race out, to vent. Then she sat down, and for a second he wanted to let out a sigh of relief. Had he seriously been thinking it would be easy?

  “Your mom is trying to tell you that she was with your dad when she found out she was pregnant with you,” he said. “They were already building a life together. Your mom and I were together only once.” He leveled a glance at Jenny, signaling for her to continue.

  “That’s right,” she said. “There was no reason to tell Ryan. I was already in Atlanta with Wren. I had met him shortly after Ryan, and we were in love. He said it didn’t matter. He’d be your father. That was the way he wanted it. We got married, and he loved you, and he was a father to you. Ryan never knew about you.”

  Alison was sitting stiffly, still tapping her foot, anger ricocheting through her. She was looking over to her mom and to him, and he took in the exasperation on Jenny’s face.

  “That’s right,” he said. “I didn’t know. I just found out, and I’m still in shock, but I can also tell you, Alison, I’m not washing my hands of you. You’re my kid, which means we’re in each other’s lives whether you like it or not. I’m not going anywhere. I would have wanted you if I’d known about you, but here we are. We can’t go backwards, and I’m not turning my back on you. At the same time, when you pull crap like this and take off and do stupid-ass things, thinking you can do and say whatever you want and hurt anyone because you’re hurting…I’m here to tell you that it stops, Alison. No more.” He sat down on the arm of the sofa and didn’t pull his gaze from his daughter. He wondered how long he’d have to wait until she decided to give just a bit.

  “Yeah, so you think you get to suddenly tell me what to do?” she said. “Step in like a dad and be a dad to me? What if I tell you I don’t want you in my life? I don’t want to know you.”

  He got the bite. It was cruel, how she spoke, and he had to remind himself this was just a scared kid lashing out. “Then I’d tell you too bad, because I’m not going anywhere. All that aside, though, we have a bigger problem. Wren told you he wasn’t your dad, so why is it that you thought my brother Luke was your father? In your journal, what you wrote…”

  The look she gave him revealed her betrayal, and she leveled a glare at Jenny. “You read my journal?”

  “I read it,” Ryan said, “with my brother Marcus. You were missing, so yeah, you bet we went through everything of yours to find you. What I don’t understand is why you thought it was Luke, why you took off the way you did, why you approached him and tried to hustle beer. Where did you get these answers from? I have to wonder if there’s more I don’t know. Alison, look, you need to level with us. You’re in trouble, and unless you talk, I don’t know how to help.” He was leaning forward, pleading. Did other parents do this as well? It was such a helpless place to be.

  Alison just shrugged.

  “Alison, I never knew your dad told you that you weren’t his,” Jenny said. “That was cruel. He never wanted you to know, so I’m at a loss as to why he’d do it. Why did he say what he did to you? Why did you shoot your father?”

  Time slowed. Alison lifted her gaze to her mom so sharply, and her expression changed from anger to confusion. “I didn’t shoot Dad,” she said, her voice so low.

  He found himself leaning forward, and it took him another second to realize she was probably in shock, blocking it out.

  She shook her head and looked over to
him, and it was there in her eyes, in her expression. She had changed from a kid who thought she knew everything to a scared little girl. “I didn’t do it,” she said. “I was hurt and angry at him for ripping my world apart. One minute I thought he was my dad, and then he wasn’t. I tried to protect you, Mom. After one of those fights, he was so cruel to you. The way he talked to you, and you let him… I told him to stop, and he said that he and I were so much alike, and the sad part was that I wasn’t even his. He said I’d never be like you, Mom, and he said thank God for that.

  “It was later that same night. He was drinking like he always did, and I went back downstairs to confront him and demand he take back the lie, but on the way down, I heard the gunshot and saw a man run out of the house. I ran into his office and found him lying there, bleeding. He said he was sorry for everything he did to me, for telling me he wasn’t my father, for a lot of things. I screamed at him and asked who my father was, my real father, and he said he was in Livingston. He kept saying ‘O’Connell.’ He had a file on him, everything about him. I knew Dad had files in the drawer in his office, in the cabinet, where he kept secrets about people.

  “I just saw the gun on the ground, and I walked over and picked it up. Then you ran in, Mom, and I froze, I just froze, because I didn’t know what to do. Then I just left and ran…” She was crying, her forearm over her face.

  “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Jenny said. She hurried over and sat beside Alison on the sofa, and Ryan moved right in front of her, looking down, taking in the shock on Jenny’s face. She had completely misunderstood what had happened. “I thought you shot your dad,” she said. “You were holding the gun, and you didn’t say anything.”

  Alison was shaking her head, still crying, sniffing. When she dropped her arm, he could see her shaking. Her eyes were red, and the thick black liner and mascara was a mess.

  As he leaned down and touched her shoulder, he just took in this girl who was his, seeing what she was doing to her body, how she looked, and he sat on the sofa table in front of her, right in front of Jenny, so close his knees were bumping theirs.