Secrets She Left Behind

by Diane Chamberlain

  “Do you know who I am?” He leaned toward Madison, who turned her head against my neck and grabbed my arm.

  “It’s okay, Madison,” I said. But it didn’t feel okay at all. I slid even farther down in the recliner, trying to get away from the man’s rank breath.

  “Look at me!” he shouted at Madison. “Do you know who I am, little girl?”

  “Rudy,” she whispered.

  He let out this half growl, half moan. “It’s time you put an end to that Rudy shit. I’m your daddy! And I’m gettin’ you outta here.”

  Madison cried quietly against my neck. “He’s not my daddy,” she whimpered.

  The man folded his arms sloppily across his chest. “The hell I’m not!” he said.

  Taffy suddenly appeared in the doorway. “Did you buzz…” She looked from me to the man and back again. “What’s going on?”

  “Call security.” My voice shook, though I was practically whispering.

  “We don’t need no security!” The man flung his arms out at his sides, and even though he was still a few feet away from Madison and me, I ducked. I saw Taffy take off at a run down the hallway.

  “You!” He shouted at me now. “Let go of her or I’ll yank her outta your arms. I’m not joking.”

  I was totally confused as well as frightened. “Are you her father?” I asked. If he was her father, didn’t I have to do what he said?

  “Hell, yes, I’m her father! Now give her to me!” He reached for Madison, but I batted his hand away before I could think. He could probably sue me if he was really her father, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t turning her over to him until I knew for sure.

  Instead, I stood up, still holding Madison, who had to be the world’s lightest six-year-old, and turned my back on him.

  “Rudy!”

  I looked over my shoulder to see Joanna run into the room.

  The man grabbed her shoulder. “You left Madison here with some stranger!” he shouted. He tried to hit her, but he was so drunk that he missed totally and fell to the floor. I climbed over him before he had a chance to get up, ran past Joanna and into the hallway, still clutching the little girl in my arms. Two security guards practically crashed into us.

  “In there!” I nodded toward Madison’s room. Then I carried her to the playroom, which was empty. Thank God. I sank with her into one of the rockers, shaking all over and totally winded from carrying her.

  “Are you all right, Madison?” I asked as I started to rock the chair.

  Her head was still pressed against my chest. “He’s not my daddy,” she said.

  “Your mom and the security men will figure it all out,” I said as I rocked her. “You’re safe here.” I hoped that was true. I hoped the security guards could arrest that guy or something. Mostly, I hoped he wasn’t her father. What an asshole.

  Madison slipped her thumb into her mouth. She sniffled, and I felt her heart beating hard against my ribs.

  Or maybe it was my own heart I was feeling.

  That night, after Andy went to his room to do his homework, I walked out to the porch where Mom and Uncle Marcus were sitting all lovey-dovey under an afghan on the glider.

  “I need to talk to you two.” I flopped into a wicker chair. I’d been waiting for the chance to talk to them ever since getting home from the hospital.

  “What’s wrong?” Mom asked. It was dark on the porch and I couldn’t see her face, but I heard the worry in her voice.

  “I’m fine,” I said. “But…an incident happened at the hospital today, and it made me realize we need to talk about something.” Damn, I’d been scared! That drunk Rudy guy bursting into the room, coming at me. It had reminded me of when Lizard would come after me in the prison yard. Only with Lizard, I just had myself to protect, not some helpless little kid.

  “What happened?” Mom asked.

  “This little six-year-old girl who has cancer…I was reading to her in her room and this guy came in, falling-down drunk and screaming that he was her father and I should hand her over to him.”

  “How frightening!” Mom said.

  “What did you do?” Uncle Marcus asked.

  I told them the whole story about how the cops eventually showed up and how I sat with Madison in the playroom while everything got sorted out.

  “The thing is,” I said, “he really was her father. Her biological father. Though Madison—the little girl—didn’t know that. She thought he was some…I don’t know…annoying family friend, I guess. He found out she was sick and wanted some other treatment for her.” I wasn’t sure of the facts. Once the nurse told me that the guy really was Madison’s father, that’s all I heard. “But I started thinking, what if Keith tells Andy that Daddy was…that he—Keith—is our half brother. You know Keith. He could blow at any minute. I’m amazed he hasn’t already. I think Andy really needs to know the truth.”

  Mom and Uncle Marcus looked at each other. It was dark, but I knew they could see each other’s eyes and they were communicating in a language I didn’t know.

  “What?” I asked. “I think it’s important.”

  “You’re right,” Uncle Marcus said. “He should know.”

  Mom let out this long breath. “Maggie, there’s more to it, though. There’s something neither you or Andy—or Keith—knows. Marcus and I have been trying to figure out how to tell you and there’s just no easy way.”

  Oh, crap. What more could there possibly be?

  “Do you want me to leave?” Uncle Marcus asked Mom.

  “Oh, you chicken.” She actually laughed. It couldn’t be too horribly serious. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  Mom stopped laughing. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t mean to make light of it, because it’s not funny at all.”

  “What’s not funny?”

  “Back when I was drinking,” Mom said, “after you were born—”

  “You had postpartum depression.” I wanted her to get to the point.

  “Right. And you know Uncle Marcus was an alcoholic, too.”

  “Yeah.”

  “We spent a lot of time together, drinking. And we…one time we—”

  I stood up. “I do not want to hear this!”

  “Sit down, Mags,” Uncle Marcus said.

  I did. I looked at my mother. “So you and Daddy both cheated on each other.” I felt sick. “This is totally too much information. Why do I need to know this?”

  “Because I’m Andy’s father,” Uncle Marcus said.

  I stared at him. “No way.”

  “Yes,” Mom said. “It’s true.”

  I rubbed my head. This was unbelievable. My family was a train wreck.

  “Did Daddy know?” I asked.

  “Yes,” they said at the same time.

  “Is that why he had the affair with Sara?”

  “No, remember?” Mom said. “Keith is older than Andy.”

  “So did you know about them, and you were angry and—”

  “No, Mags,” Uncle Marcus said. “At the time, nobody knew anything about anybody. What happened with your mom and me was independent of what was happening with your dad and Sara.”

  “This is so fu—screwed up.”

  “Well,” Mom said. “I admit things were very screwed up back then, but what we have to deal with now is how to tell Andy, because you’re right. He’s old enough to know. Especially now that Marcus and I are together.”

  “No. I don’t want him to know.” I was pissed off with both of them. “It’s going to hurt him.”

  “I know it will confuse him,” Mom said. “I know that and I’m so sorry for it, but you said it yourself…that it’s time for the truth to come out.”

  “I didn’t know about this truth, though,” I said.

  I thought of how Uncle Marcus treated Andy. For as long as I could remember, he was always around, even when Mom wasn’t exactly putting out the welcome mat for him. He saw Andy whenever he could. Showing up at his swim mee
ts. Taking him places. He did the same for me. I always thought he was being a dad to us because our own father was dead. I suddenly realized that not only was Keith my half brother, so was Andy. It felt like someone was twisting my heart in his fist.

  “I think you’re both underestimating Andy,” Uncle Marcus said.

  “I know you say that,” Mom said to him, “but I’m just…I’m worried, that’s all.”

  I could tell they’d talked about this a lot, that this was like a continuation of a conversation they’d been having a long time.

  “Look. Am I your daughter?” I asked my mother. “Yours and Daddy’s? Are there any more big skeletons going to pop out of the closet? Because I don’t know if I can take any more.”

  “You’re Jamie’s and mine, Maggie,” Mom said. “Absolutely.”

  “Let’s all get on the same page about this, okay?” Uncle Marcus leaned toward me, elbows on his knees beneath the afghan. “Maggie, we need you behind us on this. If you and your mom are breaking down in front of him and everything, it’s only going to make it worse for him.”

  “I don’t want to be there when you tell him,” I said.

  “Please be there,” Mom said. “He’ll need you there.”

  “Your mom’s right,” Uncle Marcus said. “The easier you are with it, the easier it will be for him to hear it.”

  “Fine.” Even to myself, I sounded stupidly immature and belligerent. I sighed, tipping my head back to look at the dark porch ceiling. “All right,” I said. “I’ll be there. When are you going to tell him?”

  They looked at each other again with that weird silent communication.

  “Tonight,” Mom said. “Let’s get it over with.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Sara

  Part of the Family

  1991

  DURING LAUREL’S SIX-MONTH STAY IN REHAB, JAMIE MOVED Keith and me into a double-wide trailer in the Persimmon Trailer Park in Surf City, which it turned out he owned. I knew he’d inherited plenty of property from his father. Marcus, quite a bit less. But I’d driven past that trailer park any number of times and never knew it belonged to him. He told me I could live in the trailer—rent-free, of course—for as long as I liked.

  I had never even been in a trailer before and was surprised how much I liked it. First of all, it was mere steps from the beach. Second, Keith and I would nearly have the park to ourselves during the winter months. The trailers were definitely summer rentals, yet ours was cozy and warm, and it felt solid. Not as solid as a house with a foundation, especially since it was raised up on stilts in case of flooding, but it didn’t feel as though it was going to topple over in the next nor’easter. The rooms were small, though no smaller than in the house Steve and I had rented outside Camp Lejeune.

  Best of all, it was only a few miles from the Sea Tender and Jamie.

  Not only did Jamie essentially “give” me the trailer, along with two thousand dollars a month to live on, but he told me he planned to make arrangements for Keith and me for the future. “I want to be sure you and Keith will be taken care of in case something happens to me,” he said as he helped move my things into the trailer.

  I should have asked him what he meant. I should have pushed him to “make those arrangements” as soon as possible. Instead, I simply laughed.

  “Nothing’s going to happen to you,” I said with that sense of immortality only someone in her twenties could possess. “Don’t talk like that.”

  I expected the months Laurel spent in rehab to be blissful, having Jamie all to myself, but even though we saw each other often, he was preoccupied with her progress and with the baby he was not even allowed to visit. He loved our sweet son, but he knew Keith was safe and adored, while his other son was on his own in a foster home.

  Laurel got out of rehab on a Thursday, and I wasn’t invited to visit the Lockwoods until the following Tuesday. It was a very lonely few days. It felt as though Keith and I had suddenly been cut out of Jamie’s life. On that Tuesday, I tried not to feel bitter as I pulled up in front of the Sea Tender and got Keith out of his car seat. I’d put on my game face.

  I could barely believe that the woman opening the front door of the Sea Tender was the same woman I’d chewed out in the hospital. Laurel looked vibrant and healthy and very, very pretty. So much so that I felt a wave of jealousy as I imagined Jamie holding this attractive woman in his arms. Worse—much worse—sleeping with her. Laurel the depressed drunk had been a weak adversary for me. This woman looked strong enough to take on the world.

  “Laurel!” I hugged her, Keith squawking as he got crushed between us. “You look fantastic!”

  “Thanks,” she said. “I feel like I’ve come back from the dead.” She grabbed my arm and drew me into the living room. “Come in. Come in.”

  “Miss Sara!” Maggie ran up to me.

  “Let me take that little guy so you can say hi to Maggie,” Laurel said. “She’s been babbling about you all weekend.”

  I did as I was told, numbly handing Keith over to Laurel and squatting down to hug Maggie, the whole time knowing that my world was shifting beneath my feet.

  Jamie had gone out to pick up a couple of pizzas, and once he arrived, we sat out on the deck in the spring weather, eating and talking. Laurel spoke openly about her months in rehab—how long it had taken her to accept that she was an alcoholic, how amazing the antidepressants were and what a fool she’d been to turn them down when her doctor suggested them after Maggie was born. The only time I saw sadness in her face was when she talked about Andy.

  “We’ve started the process to get him back,” she said. “They’ll do a home study in a few weeks and then I hope it won’t be long after that.”

  “I’m sure you’ll get him back soon,” I said.

  “I hope so,” Jamie said. If he was uncomfortable with me being there, he didn’t show it. He seemed happy and at ease, more so than I had seen him in a while, and seeing him that way made me realize what a terrific strain he’d been under the past six months. I knew that Marcus had moved to Asheville just the day before, and that Jamie was hugely relieved he was gone, afraid of his negative influence over Laurel. This new Laurel, though, wasn’t going to break, I thought to myself. She wasn’t even going to bend.

  They didn’t get Andy back until he was a year old. By that time, I had allowed myself to be drawn into their family by deepening my friendship with Laurel, knowing it was the only way I could ever safely have Keith and his father together, as well as be with the man I loved on holidays and birthdays. My loneliness away from him was profound, and there was not a soul I could confide to about my grief and longing. So, I helped Laurel learn how to mother a year-old boy, a role she was suddenly thrust into with no real preparation since she’d mothered Maggie not at all. I thought she was far too overprotective with Andy because of her guilt over his rocky start in life. But aside from that, I had to admit she did well, and she and Jamie were both effusively grateful to me for my help.

  My true feelings about Laurel vacillated between admiration and disdain, affection and animosity. I knew that she had fought hard to regain her sobriety and mental health, and that none of my situation was her fault. Yet Laurel had what I wanted, and I couldn’t simply will away my sense of envy and resentment.

  Jamie seemed careful about showing Laurel too much affection when I was around, but that didn’t stop me from imagining it. Sometimes, alone in my bed at the trailer, I’d picture him making love to Laurel, and I’d have to go outside and take in deep breaths of salty air to erase the image from my mind.

  One evening, Laurel and I were cleaning up the kitchen after a celebratory dinner for Maggie’s third birthday, when she suddenly stopped drying the dishes to smile at me.

  “I just want you to know that, next to Jamie and my kids, you’re the most important person in my life,” she said.

  I felt stunned. “I am?” I asked.

  “I owe my happiness right now to you,” she said with a laugh. “I ne
ver would have gone into rehab if you hadn’t called me a self-absorbed bitch.”

  I laughed myself, and hugged her, knowing I’d never be able to use those words to describe her again.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Andy

  ME AND KIMMIE WERE IM’ING ABOUT A GIRL AT HER SCHOOL when Mom and Uncle Marcus and Maggie walked in my room.

  “Hey, Andy,” Uncle Marcus said. “We’d like to talk to you. Are you done with your homework yet?”

  “Yup.” I was totally done, which was why I could IM Kimmie. I wasn’t allowed to IM or text her or call her when I still had homework. I didn’t really want to talk to them, though. “Is this a good thing or a bad thing?” I asked.

  “Neither,” Mom said. “Just an important thing.”

  “Okay. Wait a minute.”

  I wrote in the IM to Kimmie, Gotta go. C U later.

  I swirled my desk chair around. Mom and Maggie were on my bed. Uncle Marcus stood by Mom. His hand was on her shoulder. I wondered if this was going to be about sex. Uncle Marcus gave me four new condoms with good dates on them, even though he didn’t want me to do it.

  “This is going to be a little…shocking,” Mom said.

  I thought she meant like when you walked across a room and touched something and got a shock. Then I knew she meant like a surprise. My brain was thinking quicker as I got older.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Andy,” Uncle Marcus said. “I’m not really your uncle. I’m your dad. Your father.”

  I laughed. He was being silly. “No,” I said. “You are, too, my uncle.”

  He shook his head. “There are some secrets your mom and I kept from you and Maggie because we didn’t want to upset you, but we’ve decided it’s time you know the truth.”

  All of a sudden, I got scared. Was this one of those things I just didn’t know about? I thought Mom and Uncle Marcus had sex when he slept over sometimes. I tried not to think about it, but I was pretty sure they did it. Could him and Mom having sex now somehow make him my father?

  I thought of how Kimmie was adopted.