He held open the passenger door. “You really think you could stop me?”
She stared into his dark eyes. “Physically, no. But I could try reason. Or a food bribe.”
“Pie might work.”
She smiled. “That can’t have been pleasant. Thanks for coming with me.”
“You’re welcome. How are you doing?”
“I don’t know. Everything is different. When I woke up this morning, I understood everything about my past and how it made me the person I am. Now that’s all changed. I’m angry and I can’t figure out why or at whom. Everything is different.”
“You’re still who you were before.”
“Maybe. But for how long? I’ve gotten used to being alone. Now I have a family again.”
“Is that a bad thing? You like being with people. Mrs. Ford, your friends from work.”
“That’s different. I chose them.”
As he walked around to his side of the SUV, she wondered if she’d chosen Walker or if he’d chosen her, and if, in the end, it would matter.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
WALKER MOVED THROUGH the large space. He wasn’t sure where he was—maybe a ballroom in a hotel. There were so many lights everywhere—lights and noise and the sound of women’s laughter.
He circled the crowd, aware of being out of place. He was thirsty and while there was a glass in his hand, he couldn’t lift it to his mouth and drink. Was it too heavy? No, it was his arm. He couldn’t move his arm.
The lights faded, then blurred. He couldn’t see the edges of the room, only the women. All of them suddenly facing him, staring, pointing. They were angry—he knew that much—but he couldn’t say why.
“I don’t know Ben,” one of them said, and he recognized her from one of his many “Ashley” visits.
“I don’t know Ben,” another said. He remembered her, as well.
Then he realized he knew all of them. He’d spoken to them and they hadn’t been able to help him.
“I don’t know Ben.”
They repeated the words over and over until he thought his head would explode.
“I don’t know Ben. He has no one. No one, not even you. You let him die. It should have been you. It should have been you.”
The voices got louder and louder. He tried to answer, to tell them he already knew it should have been him, but he couldn’t speak. He lashed out, but the women only came closer and closer. Finally he took a step back and then he was falling and falling only to wake up on the hard floor, his heart racing, his body aching and his soul dark and battered from the truth.
It should have been him.
ELISSA PARKED across the street from the familiar house and looked at the rambling two story where she’d grown up.
There were changes. The once-green siding was now beige. The pine trees flanking the west side of the property had grown even taller and the small Lexus parked in the driveway was nothing like the old Taurus station wagon she remembered.
Maybe she should have called, she thought as she turned off the engine. Maybe it would have been better to give her parents a little warning. The problem was, she hadn’t been able to figure out what to say. Just showing up would be shocking, but it would force a conversation.
She’d called Bobby earlier that morning and he’d told her both her parents planned to be home most of the day. So that was something. She wouldn’t be left standing alone on the front porch.
Knowing she was only wasting time, she pocketed her keys and walked to the front door where she rang the bell. She heard a faint “I’ll get it,” then the door opened and, for the first time in eight years, her mother stood in front of her.
Leslie Towers was just shy of fifty, with highlights in her brown hair and hazel eyes that Bobby had inherited. Elissa noticed a few more lines, but otherwise her mother looked exactly as she remembered her. Only more surprised.
“Hi, Mom,” Elissa said, wishing she hadn’t left her purse locked in her car. Holding it now would give her something to do with her hands. As it was she shoved them in her jeans’ pockets and tried to figure out what she should do next.
Tears filled her mother’s eyes and her mouth trembled. “Elissa?” she asked, her voice wavering. “Elissa, is that really you?”
Elissa nodded.
“Leslie, who is it?” her father asked as he walked through the living room. “I’m not buying any more magazines. We already get too many as it—”
He stopped next to his wife and stared. “Elissa?”
She nodded. “It’s me. A little older—and hopefully wiser.”
Her father, a tall man who wore glasses, reached toward her. “Elissa?” he repeated.
“Oh, Kevin,” her mother breathed. “She’s back.”
Suddenly Elissa found herself pulled into the house and into their embrace. She was hugged and squeezed until she couldn’t breathe, but breath didn’t seem important just then. She closed her eyes and felt as if she’d finally, finally come home.
There were tears all around. Elissa hadn’t expected to cry, but there she was. Bobby appeared and joined the group hug, then they separated and there was a moment of awkwardness.
“I don’t know what to say,” her mother admitted, staring at her. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
“In the flesh,” Elissa said with a small shrug.
Her parents exchanged a glance as if not sure what to do next. They seemed happy, yet wary, which made Elissa wonder again if she should have phoned ahead and warned them she was coming.
“Let’s go in the kitchen,” her father said.
Her mother nodded, then led the way.
“Sit, sit,” her mother told everyone as she pushed Elissa into a chair at a glass-topped table. “I’m sorry. I’m in shock, I think. I can’t seem to figure out what to do next. Are you all right? Are you hungry?”
“I’m fine,” Elissa said, glancing around. Gone were the tile countertops and the harvest-gold appliances. Now the kitchen counters were dark granite and the ovens and cooktop a gleaming stainless steel. “You remodeled the kitchen.”
“About four years ago. I couldn’t stand scrubbing that awful grout or dealing with the stove anymore.” As she spoke, she pulled out a pitcher of iced tea and several glasses.
Elissa’s father took the seat across from hers and reached for her hands. “How are you really?” he asked.
The contact felt both familiar and strange. She squeezed his fingers. “I’m good, Dad. How are you?”
“Fine. Fine. Still at the bank, of course.”
“Your father’s been made district manager,” her mother said proudly.
“Wow, that’s great, Dad.”
Her mother carried the iced tea glasses to the table. “Come join us,” she told Bobby who hovered in the background.
He reluctantly took the fourth chair.
Elissa accepted a drink, then sipped while everyone stared at her.
There was a surreal combination of old memories and a new situation. She wasn’t sitting in her usual chair. The view was wrong, even discounting the remodel. But she couldn’t remember where she usually sat.
“You’ve grown up,” her father said.
“You’re so pretty,” her mother told her. “You’re all right? Healthy and everything? Do you have a job?”
“I’m good. I’m a waitress and I make jewelry on the side.”
Saying it all aloud made her want to cringe. She’d been raised to believe she would go to college and have a career, not work in a diner and barely get by. Still, she’d survived on her own under difficult circumstances and she refused to apologize for that.
“So you don’t need money?” her father asked.
Elissa stiffened. “No, Dad. I didn’t come here for money or anything. I wanted to get in touch with you.”
“Kevin, don’t,” her mother said. “Elissa’s back. That’s a good thing.”
“I know that,” her father said. “I’m happy. It’s just…” He frowned. “You were gone for so
long. We didn’t know what happened to you. Your mother…”
“I missed you,” Leslie said, interrupting him and smiling. “Where do you live now? In Washington?”
Elissa remembered what Bobby had said about her mother having to go away for a rest. Had she had some kind of emotional collapse? Guilt settled in her stomach. If something had happened, Elissa’s disappearance was the reason.
“I live here. In Seattle.”
“Seattle?” Her mother’s mouth trembled. “So close. For how long?”
“A few years now.”
“But you n-never…” Leslie pressed her fingers to her mouth. “I see.”
Elissa’s father released her hand. “You didn’t want to call and let us know you were all right? You didn’t think that was important?”
Bobby swallowed and stood. “That’s my fault.” He cleared his throat. “Mom, Dad, I have to tell you something. I’m really sorry. I know you’re going to be angry and upset and I can’t blame you. What I did was wrong.”
Both their parents stared at him. “This isn’t a good time, Bobby,” Leslie said, her voice shaking. “Not a good time at all.”
Kevin put his hand on her shoulder. “Just relax, Leslie. We’re fine. Everyone is fine.”
Bobby shifted his weight and looked as if he would rather be run over and left for roadkill than speak. “I, ah, I’m the reason Elissa never got in touch with you before.”
As Elissa still didn’t know how she felt about what Bobby had done, she didn’t feel the need to come to his rescue now. She kept quiet while he explained her phoning and what he’d told her.
Her mother turned back to her. “Elissa, no! How could you believe that of us? Of course we wanted to talk to you, have you come home. Do you know what we went through? Do you know how hard it was? How horrible?” She stood and faced her son. “Bobby, why? You saw. How could you have kept this from me?”
She took a step, then gasped and sank back in the chair. Kevin was at her side in an instant.
“Leslie?”
“I’m fine.”
Elissa half rose, then sat down. “Mom, are you all right?”
Her mother gave her a shaky smile. “Of course. This brings back so much. Don’t worry about me.”
The words said all the right things, but the darkness in her eyes told another story. Her leaving had changed everything, Elissa thought unhappily, and not for the better.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m so sorry I ran away. I should have called.”
“You should have come home,” her father snapped.
Elissa stiffened.
“She tried,” Bobby said. “Don’t blame her, blame me.”
His willingness to take all the responsibility surprised her. “It wasn’t just that,” she told her brother. “I shouldn’t have left in the first place.”
“I’m better, Kevin. I’m all right,” her mother said, then patted her husband’s hand. “It was that boy, wasn’t it? The one you were dating.”
“Mitch,” Elissa said. “Yeah, he’s the one I ran away with. We ended up in L.A.”
“I knew it,” her mother said, fighting tears. “I just knew it.”
“We looked in Los Angeles,” her father said. “There were too many kids down there. On the streets, in shelters.”
Elissa hated thinking what they must have gone through. “I wasn’t in either place. I lived with Mitch for a few months. Then we broke up and I got a job with another band.” She decided to gloss over the more sordid aspects of her earlier life. “It turns out I had a great knack for finding cheap accommodations and making other travel arrangements, so that’s what I did. I was paid in cash and usually rented a room in an apartment with a bunch of girls, so there’s no way you could have traced me.”
There was that look again, between her parents. What were they thinking? That she was nothing but a disappointment? That they’d expected no more of her?
“I can’t believe you thought we wouldn’t want to talk to you,” her mother said. “I loved you, Elissa. You were my daughter.”
Elissa did her best not to read too much into the past tense of the words. “I know, Mom. I was young and stupid and…” She almost said scared, but quickly changed it. “Confused. I felt a lot of guilt and what Bobby told me actually made sense at the time. Looking back, I know I should have asked more questions.”
Her mother pointed to the empty chair. “Sit down, Bobby. What you did was wrong, but we’ll talk about it later.”
Her brother did as requested, but he looked as if he wished he could disappear. For the first time since hearing his story, Elissa felt compassion for him. What he’d gone through couldn’t have been easy.
“I screwed up big-time,” she said honestly. “I’m so sorry. If I could change what I did, I would.”
Her mother attempted a smile. “It’s all right. You’re home. That’s enough, isn’t it, Kevin?”
Her father nodded slowly, as if he would need more convincing.
Elissa’s throat tightened. Somehow she’d expected open arms and unconditional acceptance. Not questions and a messy past.
Her mother drew in a breath and squared her shoulders. “So, what brought you back to Seattle?”
Interesting question, Elissa thought, not sure how much she wanted to tell her parents. “I got pregnant,” she said, knowing there was no point in hiding that. “That’s why I called home. I was scared…anyway, it all worked out.”
Her mother paled. “You have a baby? I have a grandchild?”
Elissa nodded. “Her name is Zoe. She’s five and about to start kindergarten. She’s wonderful, Mom. Smart and funny and curious about everything.”
“A grandchild? Oh, Kevin.” The tears started again.
“You named her Zoe?” her father asked, his voice a little warmer now.
“After Grandma Zoe.”
“She would have liked that,” he said gruffly.
“Who’s the father?” her mother asked. “I take it you two aren’t together anymore?”
“He’s dead,” she said, knowing there was no point in trying to explain the Neil portion of her life. Sometimes she still didn’t understand it herself.
“But he was a rock singer?” Her father asked the question in the same tone of voice he would use to ask if she recently picked up head lice.
“And a songwriter.” She drew in a deep breath. “I know I made a lot of mistakes. Everyone does—mine just had permanent consequences. But I survived. I have a good life. Zoe and I are happy together. I made it and I guess I owe a lot of that to what you taught me when I was growing up.”
“If you’d respected what we’d taught you—” her father said, but her mother cut him off with a shake of her head.
“What made you come back now?” her mother asked.
Elissa looked her brother. “Bobby hired a private detective to find me. He wanted me to know what he’d done and try to make things right. Once I knew you hadn’t turned your back on me, I wanted to get in touch.”
“Of course we wouldn’t turn our backs on you,” her mother said. “Elissa, you’re our daughter and we love you. We’ll always love you. No matter what.”
Would they? Did they? Then why had the detective who found her been hired by her brother rather than her parents? In L.A. she’d been living off the grid, but in Seattle she had a job, an apartment, credit cards. She wouldn’t have been that hard to track down. Neil did it on a regular basis. But they hadn’t.
She knew in her heart that if something had happened to Zoe, she would never have stopped looking, no matter what. So what had made that different for her parents?
ELISSA SPENT THE REST of the afternoon working on her jewelry and thinking about the meeting with her family. While they’d said all the right things and had expressed interest in meeting Zoe, she couldn’t help feeling that something was off.
Maybe it was her. Maybe her fantasy of the homecoming was so based in perfect television families that she couldn’t de
al with reality. Maybe she was wishing for the moon.
Needing someone else’s counsel, Elissa waited until Zoe was asleep, then walked up to Walker’s apartment.
“I understand that we have an undefined relationship and that we both agree that we’re not getting involved,” she said when he’d opened his door. “But I like to think we’re friends, and right now I need someone to talk to, so you’re going to have to suck it up and be that person. Do you have a problem with that?”
He stared at her for a couple of seconds, grinned, then asked, “Do you want me to bring liquor?”
“Sure. If you have it.”
“I’ll be right down.”
He appeared at her front door less than a minute later. She sighed in appreciation at the bottles of vodka and tonic he brought nearly as much as the way he looked in worn jeans and a loose T-shirt. There was something to be said for a winning combination of potentially mind-numbing booze and male eye-candy.
“You have ice?” he asked.
“Always. I even have a lime.”
She led the way into the kitchen where she got out her ice tray, then collected two glasses. Her lime was a naked little thing, huddling in the fruit basket.
“I used the zest earlier,” she said as she sliced it into eighths. “We had Caribbean tacos for dinner. Lots of citrus.”
He poured, she squeezed, then they silently toasted each other. She took a drink, then sighed as the cold, tart drink settled in her stomach.
“Perfect.”
He led the way into the living room. When they were both settled on the sofa, he asked, “What happened?”
She took another drink. “I went to see my parents today. It was weird. Like being in a time warp. Everything was nearly the same, but it wasn’t. I felt uncomfortable and angry and confused. My mom is different. More emotionally frail. My dad was critical. I wanted a big party to celebrate my homecoming and all they had were questions.”
“In some ways it’s easier not to have to answer to anyone. Now you’re back in their lives. There are going to be explanations and misunderstandings. None of you are the same.”
“I get that. Time has passed. But I feel like everything is my fault. I’m the one who left and set this all in motion.”
Susan Mallery Bundle: The Buchanans Page 67
