Tamera should be here for this, I thought. She had died for no reason, trying to help me.
At that moment, I wished I could tell Elaine how grateful I was to her for leaving me the letter and the name Kendra Trafton. Without that, I would not have found this place and these people. She must have known that her health was failing, and she wanted to finally give me the truth.
Kendra’s gaze continued to flit up to the mirror, as if she were checking my reaction.
‘You’re watching me,’ I said to her reflection.
‘Because I’m happy. I can’t tell you how happy I am that you found us.’
I leaned forward and touched her shoulder. ‘I’m sorry it didn’t work out the way you’d hoped. Your daughter, I mean.’
She sighed and shook her head. ‘It was my own fault. I’ll pay for it the rest of my life.’
‘It was not your fault,’ Leighton said.
‘I never should have left Jillian in the car, not even for a moment.’
‘You were trying to do the right thing,’ he insisted. ‘You did do the right thing. The moment Rena told you she was pregnant and giving birth, you drove to the nearest phone booth and called me. It was just too late for me to do anything. I was already headed for boot camp. The next thing I heard—’ He turned to me and touched my face with fingers so light that I could barely feel them on my flesh. ‘But it was a lie. You’re here now, and we will be a family, I promise you.’
‘There it is,’ Kendra said.
The structure I had been seeking suddenly appeared: a tumbledown country store with an old-fashioned gas station in front. Its odd-shaped pumps looked as if they belonged in some fifties monster movie. A battered sign in front, black on a white background, announced ‘Gerald’s Gas’.
‘It’s not much,’ Kendra said quickly, ‘but the house is nice.’
‘Is Dale still out of town?’ Leighton asked.
‘I’m not sure for how much longer,’ Kendra told him.
They pulled into the drive. I didn’t know how I should feel, didn’t know how I should look. I wore only a black tank top and faded jeans. Was this how I was going to meet my mother?
‘I’m scared.’ I realized the fear wasn’t new, but something I’d buried for many years, maybe my whole life.
Leighton put his arm around me. ‘You’re beautiful,’ he said. ‘You are going to change Rena’s life, maybe even save it.’
‘One thing’s for sure,’ Kendra told him. ‘Rena leaves with us, today. I should have insisted on that sooner.’
‘You just got back this year,’ Leighton told her.
‘I still should have.’ Kendra’s voice rose as she spoke, and I figured she was thinking about her daughter.
She pulled to a stop right outside the store. I started to ask where Rena was, but the words didn’t get out. A young woman with long blond hair ran from the back, screaming. Kendra opened the door and started to get out.
‘My daughter,’ Leighton told me, then did a double take as he realized what he was saying. This girl, then, this shapely, young and very, very scared girl, had to be my half-sister.
She ran to the car and grabbed Leighton. ‘He’s going to kill Rena,’ she said. ‘Oh my God. He’s going to kill her. I pretended to go along with it so I could call you.’
‘Dale?’ Leighton asked.
‘Yes. Oh, Dad, I screwed up big time. He wanted to go away with me, get rid of her. He said divorce, that she was crazy. But she isn’t.’ She choked out tears and clung to Leighton. ‘Hurry, Dad,’ she said. ‘He has a gun.’
Leighton shot through the drive leading to the back. Kendra followed. I did the same as I looked at this young woman who resembled me so completely.
‘What’s your name?’ I asked.
‘Bryn.’ She drawled it out. ‘Who are you? Why are you here?’
‘Bryn,’ I said, ‘I think I’m your half-sister.’
‘No. How?’ Then she looked at me, grabbed my shoulders, and pulled me closer. ‘Oh my God,’ she said. ‘Rena Pace, that lady out back there. She’s your mother, isn’t she?’
‘Yes.’ I could barely speak.
‘She hates me,’ Bryn said. ‘But I didn’t realize what I was doing to her, how wrong it was.’
‘Don’t worry about that now. Come on.’
‘My dad will stop it.’ Bryn looked in the direction in which the others had fled. ‘Our dad, I guess,’ she corrected herself.
‘Yes.’ Our dad.
‘Do you have a phone with you?’ she asked.
I nodded. ‘We need to call for help.’
‘I don’t know. I thought I loved Dale, but what he’s doing, it’s not right.’
‘Who’s Dale?’ I asked as we ran up the drive.
‘Rena’s husband. He always said she was crazy.’ Bryn shouted the words over her shoulder. ‘He thought she’d go nuts, and we could be together. That’s not what’s happening, though. He has her on the ground.’
My mother, on the ground. I had to do something. I fumbled for my phone. ‘We’ve got to call the police right now,’ I said. ‘Do you have a gun? Any kind of weapon?’
Bryn shook her head. ‘Dale has the only one.’
I looked around frantically. Against the side of the building, next to the faucet, I spotted several garden tools stacked in a neat row. Hoe, rake, clippers. And next to them, a tire iron. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. I picked up the tire iron and followed Bryn.
I wasn’t ready for what I saw in the backyard. A large man stood poised with a gun in his hand. Beneath him, in the dirt, a small blond woman in a pink robe cowered. My mother. Rena Pace, her dusty face streaked with tears. I started to run to her, but Kendra held me back.
‘Let Leighton settle this, and don’t worry. Rena’s going to be fine.’
‘What the hell is going on?’ Leighton demanded as he marched toward Dale.
‘Butt out, Coulter. This is between me and my wife.’
‘Leighton, be careful,’ Rena called out.
I was terrified for her, afraid I’d lose her after I’d come all this way.
The big man’s boot shot into her side, and she screamed. So did I, as if he’d kicked that steel toe into me, as well.
Leighton jumped him with an animal noise that sent chills through me. I called emergency, and when a voice answered and tried to confirm our address, I gave as much information as I could. Then I added, ‘We need help out here. A man is trying to kill a woman, and the woman is my mother.’
Leighton was thinner but in better shape than Dale Pace. They struggled on the ground, and for a moment, I thought Leighton had him. Then, Dale got on top of him as Rena squirmed away.
‘He’s strangling him,’ I shouted.
‘Stop him,’ Rena called out.
Kendra tore across the distance and attached herself to Dale Pace’s meaty shoulders. He screeched, and I realized she’d jammed her fingernails into his flesh. I could see the blood. He rose, shook her loose, and in one slow, horrible moment, as she tumbled to the ground, he grabbed Leighton by the neck and placed the gun to his head.
‘No,’ I shouted. Before I knew it, I was there, the tire iron in my hand. I struck Dale Pace over the head with it, gagging at the sound it made, yet unable to stop.
Blood running down his face, he wrenched it away from me. As I stood there, ready to attack again, he fired the gun, and Leighton fell.
‘You killed him, Dale,’ Bryn shouted. ‘You killed my father.’
‘It was an accident. Self-defense. You saw what happened.’ Dale dropped the gun. Blood dripped down his face. He tried to wipe it away. ‘Start the car. We’re getting out of here.’
‘No. You killed my father.’ She flew at him, and he tried to push her away. ‘I wouldn’t go anywhere with you.’
For that distracted moment, Dale didn’t realize how close I crouched to the gun. I reached out for it, knowing what I must do. Someone had to stop him. Before I reached it, another hand snatched it up li
ke a claw.
‘You killed that woman, Tamera, didn’t you?’ Kendra, her shirt torn and bloody, tried to take aim.
Dale Pace spotted her, pushed Bryn away, and tried to wrestle the gun away from Kendra. ‘Tamera thought she could come mess up our lives, try to tell some kind of truth that would hurt more than anything,’ he shouted.
‘How’d you kill her?’ Kendra danced just far enough from his grasp. ‘A rock to the head? A gun butt?’
‘A rock. And the gun butt. You happy now, bitch?’
For a moment, it looked as if they were dancing. Dale Pace had Kendra in a bear hug, pulling her tighter. Then the gun fired. Kendra screamed. Dale staggered back, his features twisted, his hands on his throat. Then he dropped to the ground a few feet away from Leighton. Kendra stood alone, staring down at the gun.
THIRTY-TWO
Rena lifted herself from the dirt. Leighton lay before her, his head bleeding. The blond girl crouched over him.
‘He’s breathing,’ the blond shouted.
Where had this girl come from? Her long, curly hair was splashed with blood, yet she didn’t seem bothered by it. And she was right about Leighton. Although still unconscious, he was taking in shallow breaths.
‘Somebody call the police,’ Rena said.
‘We did.’ Bryn knelt beside her, tears streaking her face.
Kendra stood over Dale’s body. Slowly, she put one hand over her mouth. Then, her gaze met Rena’s, and she shook her head. ‘I’d do it again,’ Kendra said, and then she collapsed into tears. Bryn began to sob as well.
‘You’re going to be all right now,’ Rena said, stroking Bryn’s hair. ‘You didn’t know about him. Neither of us ever knew about him.’
‘I’m the one who should be shot,’ Bryn said. ‘I brought all of this on. Please, please don’t let my daddy die.’ She begged it as if Rena had the power to make that decision.
‘He’s not going to die,’ she said. ‘He can’t.’
How much later was it? A few minutes? An hour? How long had this other girl been standing there watching her? Rena had been so concerned about Leighton and Bryn that she hadn’t been aware of anyone else.
Rena looked over at her again. The girl started crying, not a sound, just a steady wet stream of tears streaking through the cuts on her face. The black top she was wearing had been torn down one side. She was a fighter for such a tiny thing, but now she looked like a little girl, standing there as if not sure what she should say.
Rena moved closer to her. Her foot felt as if it had been seared. She wanted to cry, too, but she wasn’t exactly sure why any more. There was something about this girl that was so sad. The girl worked her mouth, as if trying to find her voice, as if trying to tell Rena something important.
‘What is it?’ Rena asked.
‘I can’t believe it,’ the girl finally managed to say. ‘I just can’t believe it.’
Rena couldn’t turn away from those eyes, pale yet cloudy, strange but familiar. She stepped closer until they were face-to-face, until she could smell sweat. Her own or the girl’s? She wasn’t sure any more.
‘Where did you come from?’ she asked. ‘Who are you?’
The girl smiled and put out her arms. ‘Don’t you know?’
THIRTY-THREE
Leighton survived his wounds. Dale Pace did not.
Kendra was not going to be charged, as her shooting Dale was a clear case of self-defense. He had died almost instantly. Through a daze, Rena had asked if he’d suffered and seemed to relax when someone told her he had not.
Dale had been willing to do anything to get rid of Rena, and he’d been convinced that Leighton had made up the story of Kendra’s daughter as a way of getting back in Rena’s life. Besides, he couldn’t afford to let anyone get too close to Rena. I also suspected that Dale had been the one to phone our station with the news that I could not possibly be Kendra’s daughter.
Soon after I’d tried to introduce myself, Rena had collapsed and was able to focus on what was happening around her for only moments at a time. She was dehydrated, they said, and weak. But other than the injuries sustained from Dale, she would be fine. My mother would be fine.
Bryn and I sat together in the hospital waiting room. Neither of us had showered or changed, but we had encouraged each other to share a dry tuna sandwich an hour before. I couldn’t imagine what in Bryn’s life had forced her to seek what she perceived as strength in Dale Pace, but I couldn’t judge her. In the time we’d sat there together, she had told me how she was raised, and I thanked every god who tended to such matters that I’d had the relative stability of Elaine and Mick.
‘What are you thinking?’ Bryn asked me just then.
I looked into her slate-blue eyes and knew I could never lie to her. ‘Relative stability,’ I said. ‘I guess it’s about the only type there is.’
Here I was on a well-worn tweed sofa, looking at this young woman who bore such a resemblance to me and to her father that anyone could pick us out of a crowd as family. And to think we almost never met.
‘Do you think Rena’s going to be all right now?’ Bryn asked in a shaky voice. ‘I mean, in her head.’
‘I hope so.’ At this point, I wasn’t sure of anything. ‘According to Kendra, most of Rena’s problems were brought about by Dale’s abuse.’
‘And I just added to it.’ She tried to blink back tears. ‘I hope she makes it, Kit.’
‘So do I. And just from what I saw of her, I can tell my mother’s tough.’ I covered my lips with my hands.
‘That’s the first time, isn’t it?’ Bryn asked me. ‘The first time you called her that?’
I could only nod.
We picked up magazines, but I couldn’t focus on the articles or even the photos. World news, celebrity gossip, and recipes seemed to have no place inside our tiny world. I thought again of Tamera. She should be here with us now.
Sometime later, Bryn nudged me and gestured across the room. ‘Do you know that guy?’ she asked. ‘He’s acting as if he knows you.’
I glanced up in disbelief. Richard flashed me a smile, waved, and covered the lobby in his wide gait. I was glad to see him. I couldn’t believe how glad.
‘How’d you hear?’ I began.
‘Farley, how else? He called and filled me in on what he knew. I couldn’t just stay home, so I thought I’d come out here and do the hospital wait with you. If that’s all right, I mean.’
I nodded my gratitude. ‘It’s better than all right,’ I said. Then, aware of Bryn watching this exchange in utter confusion, I said, ‘Richard, I’d like you to meet Bryn. My sister. I have a brother, too. Daniel. He’s on his way.’
His eyes registered shock, then something else so honest and warm that I had to turn away. He took Bryn’s hand and put an arm around me. ‘I’m so glad to meet you, Bryn,’ he said. ‘I’m Richard McCarthy. I’m your sister’s husband.’
THIRTY-FOUR
Rat-a-tat. Roar. Rat-a-tat. Roar. Would she always hear that gun? Would she always see Dale, striking like the rattler, trying to kill her? Trying to kill Leighton? She was feeling more like herself now, trying to figure out what to ask the white-uniformed nurse holding the back of the wheelchair.
Was Dale really dead?
Was Leighton really going to live?
Was the girl here not just a wish Rena wanted so much that she appeared as real as life?
‘I’m feeling much better,’ she said, not knowing how else to start.
‘I know. You’re ready to go home.’
Home? ‘Yes.’ There was no way she could ask her questions. Instead she looked at the wheelchair and said, ‘I don’t think I’ll need that.’
‘Oh, come on,’ the woman said. ‘Your daughter wanted to come get you herself, but it will be easier on you if we just wheel you out to her.’
Your daughter. She hadn’t imagined it. ‘What does she look like?’ she asked.
The nurse chuckled. ‘You know what your daughter looks like, don’t you? Cu
rly blond hair, petite figure, very pretty.’
‘That’s right,’ Rena said. Yes, this was the same girl.
‘In short,’ the woman said, ‘she looks just like you. Now, into the chair, please. You don’t want to make her wait.’
All the way down the long hall, Rena thought about her daughter. Would she be embarrassed that Rena wasn’t married when she got pregnant? Would she be able to accept Bryn after what happened with Dale? Would she like Daniel? Would she like her? Would her daughter like her? Would she be proud of her?
The wheelchair jolted to a stop. ‘Do you want to walk the rest of the way,’ the woman asked, ‘or do you want to ride?’
‘I want to walk.’ Rena looked at her foot. The scruffy blue hospital sock covered the snake bite, but she could picture it small and drying. And she knew she wouldn’t be alive if not for Kendra’s fast action, hers and Leighton’s.
She let the woman help her from the chair, then stood firmly on her own two feet.
‘There’s a rail here,’ the woman told her, and touched the wide piece of wood along the wall of glass.
‘Thank you,’ Rena said. She looked at the woman’s name tag. ‘Thank you, Betty.’ Then, she hugged the woman who had taken her this far. She would have to go the rest of the way on her own.
With her hand on the rail, she slowly made her way down the rest of the hall. This was how she wanted to meet her daughter: walking through the front entrance, not in a wheelchair.
She looked through the glass. Someone was walking toward her on the other side of it. Her face was scraped, and her long hair frizzed all over the place, but she was beautiful standing there in her torn shirt. Rena remembered the shirt, remembered when and how it had been torn. It wasn’t a dream. It was as real as anything she’d ever lived.
‘Leighton’s hair,’ she said through the glass, but her daughter couldn’t hear her. She put up both hands on the glass. Rena covered them with her own. She pressed her forehead against the glass. Rena giggled and pressed her own head against the other side.
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