Things Remembered

by Georgia Bockoven

  “I was in the garage when you were talking to Grace. I heard everything.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry for. I should have told you how I managed a long time ago. You had a right to know why there wasn’t money for your high school graduation trip and why your clothes came from thrift stores.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us about this then? You had to have a reason.”

  “You’d already had so much taken away from you, I didn’t want to take your father’s family, too. I knew I could never tell you how that money disappeared without letting you see how angry it made me. I hated those people, and I’ve always blamed them for stealing whatever chance you and I might have had to work things out between us.”

  Anna twisted the tie to her robe around her finger over and over again as she talked. “If I’d thought for a minute any of what they did was planned, I would have gone after them to recover the money for you. But they’re stupid people who never had their hands on more than a hundred dollars at a time, and they had no idea what to do with that money when it came to them. They don’t deserve you, but they’re your family, too. I never tried to stop them from being a part of your life when you moved here, and I never understood why they didn’t try harder to keep in touch.”

  The loyalty was all on Anna’s side. Karla had attempted to reestablish contact with her father’s family when she went away to college. Only her grandmother had responded, and that was to tell Karla how financially strapped they all were, that there was no way any of the Beckers could help her or her sisters with their college expenses, then or in the future. Karla wrote back to tell her she didn’t want or expect money from them. She never received an answer.

  She’d driven past her grandparents’ house when she went to visit her parents’ graves, more out of curiosity than longing. Their home was smaller than she’d remembered, and in a poorer part of town. The pickup truck in the driveway had rusted fenders and a gun rack; a chain-link compound in the backyard held three barking dogs. Plainly they hadn’t used the insurance money to better their lives in any substantial way. More likely, whatever they kept for themselves had simply slipped through their fingers in a rush of foolish spending.

  “They must have assumed you told us about them,” Karla said. “It’s something they would have done in your place.”

  “I should have found a way to tell you what you needed to know that wouldn’t have hurt you.”

  “This isn’t your fault,” Karla said. “It’s mine.” She told Anna about the conversations she’d eavesdropped on and the conclusions she’d drawn and how she’d been the one who kept the myth about their parents’ money alive by passing on what she thought she knew as fact to her sisters.

  “Thank you for telling me. I understand now why Grace feels the way she does.” Anna released the tie and smoothed it with her hand. “If I’d only known.”

  “How much of the money do you suppose was spent just trying to keep us from coming to live with you?”

  “I don’t know, maybe the majority. The lawyer they hired didn’t come cheap. But that was a lump in my throat I swallowed a long time ago. I was so happy to see the three of you get off that plane and so scared something was going to get in the way of my keeping you that I wasn’t taking any chances. I figured I could provide whatever you needed one way or another.”

  “There must have been times you wished you could have sent me back.” Karla didn’t have to reach for memories of how she’d been then; they were as fresh and troubling as her fight with Grace.

  “Not one.”

  “I was terrible to you.”

  “You hurt yourself more than you ever hurt me. My pain comes from all the years we missed. How am I going to explain those years to your mother?”

  “She’ll understand. Remember, I’m my mother’s daughter.” Karla wept inside for the lonely child and the woman who’d so desperately wanted to love her. “And my grandmother’s soul mate,” she offered softly.

  Anna looked at her with tears in her eyes. “My dear, sweet Karla, you can never know what those words mean to me. Thank you.”

  “We can’t be what we should have been, but we can be friends.”

  “Yes . . . I would like that. I know your mother would, too.”

  Karla saw someone come into the room and looked up.

  “What are you doing out here?” Heather said to Anna in a proprietary tone. “It’s almost midnight.” To Karla she said, “And where have you been all this time? Did you know Grace took off? I tried to stop her, but she said she had to get back for some audition or something.”

  “Karla went to see her fella,” Anna said.

  As easily as that, Anna took the focus off the conversation they’d been having and protected Karla from Heather’s curiosity. Grateful, she went along. “Please, not you, too. What do I have to do to convince you people that Mark is just a friend?”

  “If he’s your ‘friend,’ then Bill’s my UPS driver.” Heather ran her hand over her belly. “There’s something going on between you two that’s as obvious as Rudolph’s nose. Why don’t you just admit it? What’s the big deal?”

  “Since you brought it up, I told Mark I’d go with him tomorrow to deliver a dog to a friend in Grass Valley. I’ll only be gone a couple of hours. Is that going to cause a problem with anyone?”

  “Bill is taking the boys to The Galleria to see Santa Claus, and I was hoping the three of us could do something fun together—the way we used to. Of course, at the time I thought Grace would be here, too, but I’m sure we can struggle along without her.”

  Again, Heather’s selective memory had put Karla in a scenario where she didn’t belong. “I’ll try to be back by one.”

  “That’s when Grandma takes her nap. If we’re going to do something, it has to be in the morning.”

  “I promised Mark I would go with him,” Karla said. “I’m not going to back out on him now.”

  Anna leaned her elbow into the arm of the sofa, pushed herself up, and put her hand out to Heather. “Stop making such a fuss. With everyone gone we’ll have the house to ourselves. Think how nice and relaxing that will be. We can go through my catalogs and you can help me pick out Christmas presents for everyone.”

  Anna was providing a way out for Karla, and Heather acted as if she’d won the coveted best-student award at school. Karla felt like thumping her on the back of the head the way she had when they were kids. The thought brought her up short and she almost laughed out loud. “This is perfect,” she said to Heather. “I’ve been trying to figure out a way for you and Grandma to have some time alone together. I’ve had her all to myself for over a month—it’s only fair that you have your turn.”

  Anna’s eyes narrowed in amusement as she looked at Karla. “That’s very thoughtful of you.”

  Karla picked up Anna’s jacket and hung it in the closet. Before closing the door, she ran her hand along the worn sleeve. She hoped she aged as well as her grandmother. Anna’s body might have betrayed her, but her mind was as sharp as her three granddaughters’ combined.

  She waited to hear the sounds that let her know Anna had settled in for the night, turned out the porch light, and went to her room. She looked for a note from Grace, but wasn’t surprised when she didn’t find one. The hours since the confrontation had given her enough distance that she was no longer sure she’d made the right decision about cutting Grace off financially. She was convinced it had to be done, but worried about doing it so abruptly that Grace wound up with nowhere to live.

  She wanted her sister responsible, not desperate. Grace was a survivor, but desperate people took desperate measures. If she was telling the truth, which, considering the circumstances and their result, seemed pretty certain, she was in too deep to charm her way out this time. She needed help, but Karla wasn’t sure yet how she was going to give it to her. The one thing she did know was that this had to be the last time, and it wouldn’t come easy. Grace was going to find out wha
t “struggling actress” really meant.

  Karla crawled into bed, put her hands behind her head, and stared up at the shadows playing across the ceiling. “If you just happen to be listening, Mom,” she whispered. “I could really use your help.”

  She closed her eyes, expecting to see the image of her mother that had come to her for twenty-two years. Instead, this time, she saw Anna. And she was smiling.

  Chapter

  20

  She’s so beautiful. And so sweet,” Karla said, passing a dog biscuit through the cage to the Irish setter as they pulled onto the freeway. “If she were mine, I’d have notices posted everywhere looking for her.”

  “She hadn’t been out on her own for long,” Mark said. “She was well cared for—and obviously well loved.”

  “Then why do you suppose the owners didn’t try harder to find her? And why wasn’t she microchipped?”

  “I’m only guessing, but I suspect whoever they are discovered we had her and were afraid to come forward because they couldn’t afford to pay the bill. Which is too bad, because we could have worked it out. We always do. As far as the microchip, you’d be surprised how many people still don’t consider it important.”

  She took a second to study him while he concentrated on traffic. He was a man whose passion and compassion were such an integral part of his nature that what he’d done for a stranger’s pet was no more extraordinary than breathing. If she wasn’t very careful, Mark would become her standard, spoiling her for any other man. “I’ve never even owned a goldfish, so I have no idea how much something like this would cost.”

  “I didn’t bother adding it up, but it probably would have been several thousand.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “There isn’t anything cheap about medical care for animals anymore. We use the same supplies and no one gives us discounts. About the only place we can save money is on equipment that we sterilize and use again and hospitals for humans throw away.”

  She stuck her fingers through the cage to scratch the setter’s ear. “After all you went through to save her, I’m surprised you didn’t want to keep her for yourself.”

  “I would have if I hadn’t found someone else who clicked with her. He and his wife own their own business and work out of their home a lot, so they’ll be around to make sure everything continues to heal the way it’s supposed to.” They had reached Auburn, and Mark changed lanes to take the Highway 49 exit.

  The setter curled up and closed her eyes. “She’s obviously been in a car before.”

  “I think she might have belonged to someone who worked construction. Of course that’s only a guess. I’ve taken her for walks around Rocklin and Loomis and she didn’t show any sign that she was in familiar territory.”

  Karla turned back around in her seat. “I like that you’re the kind of man who takes on hopeless cases and looks for happy endings.”

  “And I like that you’re the kind of woman who leaves her life and business to take care of a woman she feels more loyalty to than love.”

  “I got more out of coming than Anna did having me here.” She’d been slow reaching that conclusion, but when it came, it was as clear as a freshly cleaned window, as obvious as Mark’s love for his daughter.

  “It must be hard knowing you’re leaving in a couple of days.”

  “Harder than I thought it was going to be,” she acknowledged. “If I didn’t have to get back to the shop, I’d probably stay another week or two.” She’d talked to Jim that morning, and he was anxious to get going on his search for his own place.

  “Where do you see yourself twenty years from now?”

  She thought about her answer. “That’s an odd question. Why do you ask?”

  “I was curious about your dreams—your ambitions.”

  “I see myself still running the coffee shop, only twenty years closer to retirement and financially secure. That’s a big thing with me. I don’t ever want to be dependent on anyone.” She’d almost added “again,” but that would lead to other questions she didn’t want to answer. All of her and Jim’s friends, even their families, believed she’d wound up with everything of value after the divorce, because she ended up with the shop and the house. What they didn’t know was that Jim had taken the cash while she assumed the debts. She drove an old car and bought all her clothes on sale and ran the shop six days a week with only part-time help because she was determined to be debt-free one day. Another year like the last one and she would reach her goal.

  “And your dreams?”

  “I’ve been too busy with the ambition part to have time to dream.”

  “Then you need to slow down. Dreams are what put the silver linings in those clouds that come along and dump on us every now and then.”

  “Tell me yours.”

  He didn’t hesitate. “I want someone to share my life with. The problem is, I won’t settle. I’d rather be alone than do that. And I want more kids. Every day I’m with Cindy she manages to make the world new for me again. Life through her eyes is pure and basic and full of promise.”

  “I envy the two of you that. It’s been a long time since I’ve looked at anything that seemed full of promise.” She sounded pathetic, even to herself.

  “It’s there, you’re just not seeing it. You have to find the kid in you again and take another look.” He groaned. “Did that sound as corny as I think it did?”

  “Well, now that you mention it . . . But then, I gave you the lead and that cancels my right to complain.”

  “I’m glad you came.” He glanced her way and gave her a wink. “You’re my new best friend.”

  If it was true that inside every man was a little boy, Mark represented the best part of childhood. He still looked at the world in wonder, believed only good waited for him around the corner, and had room in his life for all strays, whether human or animal. “I guess that means you’re my new best friend, too.”

  “Want to come over to my house and play later?”

  “I can’t. I told Heather I’d be back for this family thing she’s planned.” She was more tempted than she sounded. But it wasn’t Heather she was worried about disappointing, it was Anna, and that made the deciding difference.

  “Does she know what happened with Grace?”

  “No, and I’m not going to tell her.”

  “For her sake or Grace’s?”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe even mine. Grace is a sore point between us.”

  “Now that you’ve had a night to sleep on it, are you still thinking about helping her out after all?”

  “I really am afraid to push her too far,” she admitted.

  “Why? What do you think will happen?”

  She hated considering the possibilities, let alone saying them out loud. But the need for someone to talk to was more powerful than her fear. “I’ve read about girls who turn to drugs and prostitution when they have nowhere else to go.”

  “And you think that supporting Grace’s spending habits will keep her on the straight and narrow? Do you really make that much money?”

  “You’re leading up to something—why don’t you just say it?”

  “Grace is twenty-five—”

  “Almost twenty-six,” Karla said.

  “What were you doing at that age?”

  She’d been on her own for four years by then, paying for her own graduate degree by working two jobs. “That’s beside the point. Grace and I are nothing alike.”

  “What about Heather?”

  “You can’t compare any of us to each other. We’re nothing alike.”

  “All right—there’s Susan and Allen and your ex-husband, Jim, and a hundred other people I can name who are nothing like each other either. But most of them were their own people by the time they were Grace’s age. When is Grace going to grow up?”

  Karla didn’t have an answer. She put her head back and looked at the passing countryside. They’d left Auburn and moved deeper into the foothills. Here the earth was red, the f
orests pine, and the hamlets named by gold prospectors instead of conquering Spaniards. She was a Californian by choice rather than birth and couldn’t imagine herself living anywhere else. Not until she’d come north again, however, had she realized how deeply this part of the state, the valley and foothills, were imbedded in her mind. Even scarred from development, this was the land her mother had loved, the place she would talk about with longing in her voice, the place of the dry heat, an expression and reality Karla couldn’t understand until she’d lived here herself.

  “Why did you settle in Loomis?”

  He followed her lead, never questioning the abrupt change in conversation. “You mean rather than Fresno, or anywhere in general?”

  “Anywhere.”

  “I knew I wanted to stay in California, so that narrowed it down some. I did some part-time work at the clinic and got to know and respect the people there. Then, when the partners invited me to join them and I took a harder look at the area I found I particularly liked the semirural setting and the militant attitude of the longtime residents against wholesale development. By then Cindy was on the way and I couldn’t think of a better place for her to grow up, so I said yes.”

  “And this is where you intend to raise those other kids you’ll have someday?”

  “Why do I get the feeling there’s more to this than idle conversation?”

  The question threw her. “I don’t know. Am I prying? I didn’t mean to.”

  He let it go. “We’ve talked about me enough. Tell me something about you.”

  She tried to think of something interesting. “I’m a movie buff.”

  “I already knew that. Anyone who knows the plot of Land Before Time either has kids or has started a second pass through Netflix.

  “When I wear out a pair of socks, it’s at the heel, not the toe.”

  “Hey, that’s pretty good. Certainly not something I would have figured out for myself. Now tell me something else.”

  She dropped her voice to a sexy purr. “I like long walks on the beach, curling up by the fireplace with my well-read copy of the complete works of Dostoyevsky, bubble baths by candlelight, and Sunday afternoon football in the park.”