by Dorie Graham
“I think I’m okay on that.”
His friend shook his head. “Which is pretty amazing, considering some of the stunts we pulled.”
Chase shrugged. “The firecrackers were your idea, as I recall, and the fire department got there in time. We remained anonymous.”
“I can’t believe we stuck around at all.”
“I wanted to make sure the place didn’t burn to the ground.”
“I’m locking my boys up when they get older,” Tony said. “Oh, and be prepared for a home visit. They’re going to want to check out your digs to make sure it’s suitable for a child.” He frowned. “They’re going to want to check out anyone else significant who isn’t in the household. How’s your father doing these days?”
Chase gritted his teeth. “He isn’t a big fan of Kara’s. I don’t think we need to count him.”
“Good. That’s probably for the best.”
Frustration built in Chase. He was tired of worrying about his father. “To answer your original question, yes, I want to give this guardianship thing a try. I owe Kara at least that. I should have made an effort on her behalf ten years ago when she went into foster care.”
“When you were a young twentysomething, barely out of college, with no stable career or home of your own?” Tony shook his head. “Now, that would have been a tough one. She was better off in foster care then.”
“So, what are my chances now?”
His friend blew out a tired breath. “It shouldn’t be difficult, but it’s hard to say. It may depend on the caseworker. We’ll need you to be ready for the home study. I think that should go okay, but your travel may be an issue. I wouldn’t say anything about her current foster care situation, even if it’s unsatisfactory. I would push your relationship as her stepbrother and that should get you all the traction you need. The preference is usually favorable where there’s a family tie. If things are really as bad as you say with her foster mother, maybe the woman will be happy with a change in guardianship.”
“I don’t think happy is in Pansy’s vocabulary. I know Kara can be a pain in the ass, but no one deserves to be treated the way that woman treats her. I do feel I should file a complaint, though. She has other foster kids and kids of her own. I think the agency needs to know.”
“You should do it, then. You’ve got to do what feels right to you. I’m just saying, as the father of two, they’re a handful, and mine aren’t even teenagers yet, which is a whole other ball of wax. Filing the complaint might get her a better placement and then you won’t have to take on the responsibility of guardianship.”
Chase pressed his lips together, and then he slowly nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure I want to request guardianship.”
Tony extended his hand. “Good luck to you then, my friend. Let me know if you need anything else. Oh, and if you do see Robert again, would you please give him my best?”
“Yes, I’ll do that,” Chase said and then turned to leave.
Maybe taking on Kara would distract him enough that he wouldn’t have time to think about how Robert had banned him from the Petersons’ household. Still, he wanted to help. Somehow, he’d have to find a way of doing so that would be acceptable.
In some small way he needed to make a stand with Alex’s family.
* * *
SHELVES OF PLUMBING FIXTURES towered to Alex’s left, and rows of caulking and tile lined the shelves to her right as she maneuvered through Three Corners Hardware. She’d been back only on rare occasions to her father’s store. She’d only come today to see Becky and report on her visit with their mother and to see if her younger sister had any tips on dealing with Robert.
Becky had always been a daddy’s girl, a fact that had strained her relationship with Alex long before the divorce. But her youngest sister had remained committed to maintaining a relationship with their mother, as well. She’d been Mom’s main caregiver and continued to be her biggest advocate at Parkside.
Alex made her way to the counter at the far right of the store. A key-making machine took up one end, with its carousel of uncut keys. An older woman scooted in behind the counter as Alex approached, smiling widely.
“How are you today?” the woman asked.
“I’m fine, thanks. I’m looking for Becky. Is she in? I’m her sister.”
The woman’s eyes widened. “You’re her sister? The one from Baltimore? I guess there are two of you there, though. Funny, I never would have guessed you were sisters.”
“Yes, I’m Alex.” She extended her hand in greeting. “I guess Becky looks more like Megan, our other sister.”
The woman pumped her hand with enthusiasm. “I’m Grace. I’ve heard so much about you.” She frowned. “I’m so sorry about your brother being sick.”
“Thank you. He’s holding his own. Is Becky here?”
“Yes, of course, she’s in back.” She gestured toward the stockroom, where their father’s office was. “She’s supposed to be putting her feet up. She’s been pushing herself this morning.”
“Thanks.”
Alex inhaled slowly as she turned the knob on the door marked Employees Only. Though Becky hadn’t pushed trying to get their family together the way Megan had, she had maintained clear support of their father throughout the years. It had kept tensions between her and Alex high, and Alex had avoided her youngest sister as much as possible since she’d left home fifteen years before, keeping in touch mostly through Megan.
“Alex.” Becky met her in the stockroom. She’d evidently been headed toward the front. Her belly was round with child. She rested her hand lightly on the bulge. “I thought I heard you.”
“Hello, Becky.”
Her relationship with Becky wasn’t any better than her relationship with Robert. As long as Alex was home, though, they’d need to put aside all the hurt feelings. Hopefully, Becky would be up for that.
Thankfully, Becky embraced her without hesitation. Alex patted her sister gently, leaning across her rounded belly.
When she stepped back, she nodded toward her sister’s abdomen. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired most of the time. I can’t seem to catch up on my sleep.” She sighed. “It’s hard to get comfortable and I can’t stop thinking about all the stuff that needs to get done here and, well, I worry about Robert, of course. And Mom. You saw her?” Becky asked. “Dad said you were going.”
“Yes,” Alex said, not sure which of her sister’s issues to address first. “We had a nice visit. She’s forgetting more words, though. At least it seems like more since the last time I saw her, which was about six months ago. She didn’t know me at all this time.” She laughed derisively. “Kind of like the past couple of times. And she asked about where she was, but I changed the subject and that worked to distract her.”
“Good. I hate when they have to sedate her.”
“Yes, me, too. We had a nice time. I took her for a walk around their garden. She liked it. The roses were blooming.”
“It’s a blessing she doesn’t understand what’s happening with Robert,” Becky said. She glanced down at her belly and a melancholy smile curved her lips. “It might be nice if she could appreciate this, though.”
Alex nodded. “Yes, it would. If it makes a difference, Dad should be able to spend more time here, now that I can fill in for him with Robert, so that should help relieve some of your stress, help you to sleep better. Give you more time to put your feet up.”
“Has Robert given you his spiel about his not wanting anyone’s help but Dad’s?” Becky asked.
“Yes. Has he been like that with you, too, or was that just for me?”
“I used to try to get by there more often after work.” She rubbed her belly. “But it’s all I can do to get through a day here, to be honest. All I want to do when I’m done is go home and crash.”
Becky sighed. “Robert lets me help from a distance. I research stuff for him, send him articles. Megan does, too. But he won’t let me drive him anywhere, or cook for him, or help hi
m when he’s sick from chemo...or radiation, though I understand there isn’t much to do there but make sure he’s got lots of aloe on hand, which I do.” She shook her head. “You’d better be ready for the chemo aftereffects. He doesn’t handle it well. He gets really sick and mean as a bear. He doesn’t want anyone around when he’s like that. I think he just tolerates having Dad there, because he has to have someone. It was pretty horrible last time. It tore him up. He couldn’t swallow even his own spit at one point. That’s hospital time, of course.”
“Well, he’s going to have to get used to having me around if Dad’s going to be spending more time here.” Alex gestured around the stockroom. “I don’t mean to be sexist, but you shouldn’t be handling all this by yourself while you’re in this condition. You should be resting.”
“Grace is a huge help and we have a couple of part-timers who come in afternoons, as well. I don’t do any lifting, but there’s still so much to do besides that. I was supposed to have inventory done weeks ago, but I’m so behind.” She laughed. “Not that sales have been breaking any records, but we’re still carrying on, and the equipment rentals are stronger than ever.”
“I think Dad wants to spend more time here,” Alex said.
“He definitely does, but he doesn’t like to leave Robert. He says even on days when he’s feeling okay, he wants to be there to distract him, keep him busy. Otherwise, he gets down.”
Alex nodded. Why couldn’t her father have been equally as devoted to their mother as he was to Robert? “Becky, can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“You’re on better terms with Robert, but if you were me, how would you get him to feel comfortable with letting me pitch in more, so Dad can be here for you?”
“I don’t know, Alex, he’s as stubborn as you are. You and Robert have always been alike in that way. That’s probably why you two don’t get along. You’re both too bullheaded.”
“Thanks,” Alex said dryly.
“I guess I’d help him by letting him help himself. He’s got so much pride. He hates having anyone do stuff for him. You know, if he’s sick, place a wet washcloth where he can reach it, but don’t hand it to him and whatever you do, don’t wipe his brow with it or anything like that.”
“I can do that. It’s not like I want to baby him.”
“Honestly, do you know what I think would help him the most?” Becky’s blue eyes rounded.
“What?”
“Listen to him. Just be there. Let him vent. Most of the time I think all he needs is someone to talk to. He’s always in such a bad mood. Maybe that would lighten him up.”
“Okay,” Alex said. “I’m thinking we’ll just have more long, uncomfortable silences, but as long as he doesn’t throw me from the room, I’ll listen to him, if I can get him talking.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
SILENCE GREETED CHASE as he entered his father’s house for the second time that week. “Hello?”
A low light shone from the den, where his father spent most of his time when he was home, but his father wasn’t asleep in his recliner and the TV sat silent in its place of honor in the room. Chase had tried to call on his way over but hadn’t gotten an answer and his father hadn’t returned his call.
Chase pulled out his phone and sent his father a quick text. Where r u?
While waiting for a response, he moved to the big rolltop desk sitting in the far corner. Where would his father keep his important papers? What if he didn’t have a copy of the marriage license documenting his marriage to Kara’s mother? At least Tony seemed confident they could get a copy from the local records office.
His phone vibrated with an incoming text. At a meeting. Ending now. Got ur message. Look in basement on metal shelves. Home soon.
Chase replied, Thanks. C u soon.
A musty odor permeated the air as Chase flipped a light switch at the bottom of the basement stairs and then entered the unfinished portion of the basement, where he found the metal shelving his father mentioned. He slid open one of the small daylight windows to let in some fresh night air.
When he tugged a cord for a bare bulb hanging in the middle of the area, light illuminated the space. Rows of boxes and containers covered the rows of shelves, with an odd lamp or old appliance here and there. The top shelf held most of the boxes and that’s where Chase began, pulling down one with a faded shipping label. He lifted the lid, but rather than documents the box held pictures in all shapes and sizes. A photo on the top caught his eye. He pulled it out and moved under the light to better see it.
It was a picture of him at a birthday party. He was maybe four or five. He wore a pointy birthday hat and sat in front of a cake almost as big as he was. A young boy about his age leaned toward the cake with him, his hair in curly dark waves. Could that be Robert?
He flipped the picture over. The names Chase, Alexandra and Robert were written in faded blue ink on the back. Frowning, he looked again at the old photograph. So if that was Robert, the chubby little girl beside him must be Alex. He shook his head and smiled.
He remembered the wall clock in the back. It had hung on the wall in the kitchen upstairs until recently. So, had his mother thrown him an actual birthday party and invited the Petersons? Mrs. Peterson was a blurry figure in the back, but he was pretty sure that was her and that was probably Aunt Rena with her. His mother wasn’t in the picture, probably because she’d taken it, but she was there in the cake and decorations and smile on his young face.
“Twit,” he said to his four-year-old self.
Look at those ears and that grin that spread from ear to ear. He looked...happy. This was probably the only birthday party he’d ever had and he hadn’t remembered it.
He put the picture back into the box and closed it. There was no sense in meandering down memory lane. It was nice to know that happier times had once existed, but for how long? He’d been in school, in the first grade, when his mother had cut out on them. Those happy times were a blip on the radar. There one moment and then gone the next.
He should have appreciated them while he’d had them.
The next box looked more promising. He lifted the lid to reveal file folders with worn tabs displaying handwritten labels in varying inks and legibility. They marked everything from recipes to warranty paperwork. He flipped through the tabs, but they didn’t seem to be in any order he could identify. Pursing his lips, he settled in to search the contents. With the number of other boxes on the shelves, this could take some time.
Some twenty minutes or more later, a door slammed upstairs. His father called out to him from above and Chase responded. The stairs creaked and a moment later his father stood facing him, his hands on his hips.
“Any luck?” he asked.
“Not yet, but maybe you can find it faster. I’m not sure how these are organized.”
“Here, let me look. Most of these your mother started and then I tried to keep up with some of it. We can probably trash most of this.”
He dug through one box and then moved on to another, while Chase also continued to search. “It was a license,” Chase said. “And not from Mom, so maybe it would have been put somewhere else. Are some of these boxes from Kara’s mom?”
“It’s all mixed together. I remember seeing it....” He pulled the last box from the shelf. “Here we go. It’s filed under C for certificates.”
Chase shook his head. “But it’s a license.”
His father shrugged. “Same thing.” He handed the document to Chase. “It’s all yours. I have no need for it.”
“Thanks, Dad.” Chase stared at the aged paper. “You’re not still married to her, are you?”
“I filed for divorce after she’d been gone a year. Did the same with your mother. I figured if they weren’t back by then they weren’t coming back.”
He gripped Chase’s shoulder. “I’m so very sorry, Chase. You know it was me she was leaving.”
Chase shook his head. “I’ve been telling you that about Kara.”
“Oh, that one. She was very high maintenance from the start. Her mother couldn’t take it.”
“Okay, Dad, whatever you say.” Chase waved the marriage license. “This is going to help me gain guardianship of Ms. Kara Anders, and frankly, I’m looking forward to it.”
“Well, good luck to you, son. You’re going to need it.”
* * *
ALEX HAD BARELY put the car in Park when Robert was unbuckled and out of the vehicle, shaking his head and muttering under his breath, moving with more speed than she’d seen in him since her arrival. She grabbed her purse and hurried after him.
“You are the worst driver,” he said. “I’m driving myself tomorrow. There’s no need for you to come along.” He crossed the parking lot and headed for the double glass doors of the radiation unit marked with bold lettering.
Alex stared at the word Radiation as she pushed through after her brother. A shiver ran through her. Every patient who passed through these doors battled some form of cancer. How had her brother fallen into their numbers?
They immediately entered a waiting room with a windowed reception booth at the far wall, next to another door, beyond which was a visible hall and second waiting room. A sign with Patients Only Beyond This Point hung on the wall beside the door. Robert didn’t slow, though. He moved on through the door, without looking back or saying anything to her.
A little out of breath, Alex glanced around the nearly empty room. A TV played quietly at one end, displaying the news with headlines scrolling across the bottom of the screen. A woman with a sparse sprinkling of gray in her hair sat in a seat midway along the closest wall, staring blankly at the screen.
Alex sat across from the woman and scanned the coffee table before her for something interesting, but the only thing that appealed was a Forbes magazine she’d read ages ago. She settled back in her seat empty-handed. But if the past sessions she’d brought him to were any indication, Robert wouldn’t be too long.
“Was that your husband who went back just now?” the woman asked.
