Hometown Ties

by Melody Carlson

  Also by Melody Carlson

  As Young As We Feel (Cook)

  Limelight (Multnomah)

  Love Finds You in Pendleton, Oregon (Summerside)

  A Mile in My Flip-Flops (WaterBrook)

  The Christmas Dog (Revell)

  HOMETOWN TIES

  Published by David C. Cook

  4050 Lee Vance View

  Colorado Springs, CO 80918 U.S.A.

  David C. Cook Distribution Canada

  55 Woodslee Avenue, Paris, Ontario, Canada N3L 3E5

  David C. Cook U.K., Kingsway Communications

  Eastbourne, East Sussex BN23 6NT, England

  David C. Cook and the graphic circle C logo

  are registered trademarks of Cook Communications Ministries.

  All rights reserved. Except for brief excerpts for review purposes,

  no part of this book may be reproduced or used in any form

  without written permission from the publisher.

  This story is a work of fiction. All characters and events are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is coincidental.

  LCCN 2010930102

  ISBN 978-1-4347-6495-9

  eISBN 978-0-7814-0554-6

  © 2010 Melody Carlson

  Published in association with the literary agency of Sara A. Fortenberry.

  The Team: Don Pape, Erin Healy, Amy Kiechlin, Caitlyn York, Karen Athen

  Cover Design: FaceOut Studios, Tim Green

  Cover Images: iStockphoto, royalty-free

  First Edition 2010

  Chapter 1

  Caroline

  Caroline knew better than to trust her mother. Even before Alzheimer’s, Ruby McCann was undependable at best. Now she was unpredictable, unreliable, and sometimes downright sneaky. Today she was just plain missing. Caroline had been less than an hour at the grocery store, getting some milk, eggs, bread, and fresh produce in the hopes she could entice her mother to eat something. She’d left her mother contentedly watching a dog show on Animal Planet. And now she was gone.

  But Caroline wasn’t that surprised. Her mother had wandered off twice last week, and both times Caroline found her on the front porch of what used to be the Wilson house. Marge Wilson had been her mom’s best friend, and Caroline supposed that some old wrinkle in her mom’s brain sent her there for coffee or a cup of sugar or something. Each time, the current homeowners had appeared to be at work and, despite her mom’s incessant ringing of the doorbell, no one responded. However, Caroline’s mother was not on that porch this morning.

  “Don’t come undone,” Caroline told herself as she continued through her mom’s neighborhood—the same neighborhood Caroline had walked through hundreds, maybe thousands of times in the sixties while growing up. It should have been as familiar as the back of her hand, and yet it was different … changed by time. She looked at the back of her hand. Well, it had changed some too. And what appeared to be the beginning of a liver spot had her seriously concerned. Hopefully her hands weren’t going to go all blotchy and speckled like her poor old mother’s. Good grief, Caroline was only fifty-three. That was ten years younger than Goldie Hawn, and Goldie still looked fantastic. Of course, Goldie had lots of money to keep her good looks looking good. But what Caroline lacked in finances, she hoped she could make up in savvy. Which reminded her: Wasn’t lemon juice supposed to bleach age spots?

  “Caroline!”

  She turned to see a figure on a bike zipping toward her, waving frantically. Jacob, her mother’s neighbor, the preteen boy who’d rolled up his sleeves and assisted her with clandestinely emptying her pack-rat mother’s stuffed spare room, was quickly coming her way.

  “Hey, Jacob,” she called out. “What’s up?”

  “I think I just saw your mom,” he said, slightly breathless.

  “Oh, good. Where is she?”

  “Down by the docks in Old Towne.”

  She frowned. “Really, that far? Wow, she was feeling energetic. Thanks for tipping me off.”

  “Yeah … but … I … uh …” Now Jacob appeared to be at a loss for words, and his cheeks were blotched with red, which might’ve been from a hard bike ride … or was it something else?

  “What’s going on?” Caroline studied him. “Did my mom do something weird?”

  He nodded with wide eyes.

  She braced herself, hoping that her mom hadn’t gotten into some kind of verbal dispute with a hapless bystander. Her mother, who’d always been a reserved and somewhat prudish sort of woman, was now capable of swearing like a sailor. Just one more unexpected Alzheimer’s perk. “Okay, tell me, Jacob, what’s she done this time?”

  “She, uh, she doesn’t have her clothes on.” His eyebrows arched, and he made an uneasy smile.

  “Oh.” Caroline felt like the sidewalk was tipping just slightly now, like she needed to grab on to something to keep her balance. “You mean she doesn’t have any clothes on?”

  He shook his head. “Nope.”

  “Nothing?” Caroline tried to imagine this, then shook her head to dispel the image. “Not a stitch?”

  “Nothing. Not even shoes.”

  “Oh.” She turned around and started walking back toward her mom’s house, still trying to grasp this. “Well, now that’s a new one.”

  Jacob nodded as he slowly half walked, half pedaled his bike by the curb alongside her. “People are trying to help her,” he explained, “but she keeps yelling at them to stay away or she’s gonna jump.”

  “Jump?”

  “Yeah, into the bay.”

  She started jogging now. “I better hurry.”

  “She was heading out on the dock, the one by the big tuna boat, when I last saw her.”

  Caroline ran faster now, glad that she was still in relatively good shape despite missing her yoga classes down in LA for the past few weeks. “Thanks for letting me know.”

  He smiled apologetically. “Yeah. Sorry that it was kinda bad news.”

  “Hey, don’t ever be sorry to bring me news about my mom, Jacob. Believe me, I don’t usually expect it to be good.” And she broke out into a full run.

  She ran into the house, which she’d left unlocked just in case her mom wandered back while Caroline was gone. She hurried down the dim hallway, quickly unlocked the deadbolt she’d installed in her bedroom (to keep her mother from going through her things), grabbed up her purse, and, remembering her mother was naked, pulled the yellow and white bedspread from her bed. On her way to the front door, she noticed her mom’s favorite purple paisley shirt neatly folded on top of a pile of old magazines and books cluttering the worn coffee table. That should’ve been Caroline’s first clue. Where her mom’s other clothes had disappeared was still a mystery. But Caroline’s plan was to wrap her mother in the comforter, escort her to the car, and quickly get her home.

  It only took a couple of minutes for Caroline to drive her SUV down to the docks, where she parked in a no-parking zone near a patrol car, then jumped out and, with purse in hand and the bedspread flapping behind her, ran down the boardwalk toward the tuna boat. A small crowd of spectators had already gathered on the wharf to witness this interesting event, and a couple of uniformed police officers with perplexed expressions stood at the edge of the dock.

  “Hello!” Caroline called breathlessly as she hurried toward them, peering past them to see if she could spot her mother. She cringed at the idea of spotting a naked old woman wandering around with that bewildered expression in her faded blue eyes.


  “Stay back!” the female officer yelled at Caroline, as if she were about to perpetrate a crime.

  “I’m here for my mom,” she told them, pointing down the dock. “I heard she’s down there.”

  “That’s your mom?” The woman looked at Caroline suspiciously, like Caroline was somehow responsible for the bizarre behavior of her senile parent.

  “Yes. She has Alzheimer’s and—”

  “Hey, are you Caroline McCann?” the other cop asked.

  She nodded, glancing curiously at him. He appeared to be about her age, although he wasn’t familiar. “Do I know you?”

  He grinned. “Probably not. Steve Pratt. I was a couple years behind you in school. But I remember you, all right. Coolest senior cheerleader at CHS and—”

  “And don’t forget we’re on duty here,” his partner reminded him.

  “So”—Caroline squinted to see down the dock, which was looking alarmingly deserted—“about my mom? Where is she?”

  “She’s holed up in a fishing boat down on the end,” Steve told her.

  “Said she was going to jump if we didn’t back off,” the woman filled in.

  “So we left”—Steve glanced over to the parking lot—“and called for backup.”

  “Backup?” Caroline grimaced. Did they plan to take her mother by force?

  “A professional,” he said quietly. “Someone from the hospital is bringing … uh … a counselor-type person to talk her into coming peacefully.”

  “Well, that won’t be necessary,” Caroline said as she folded the bedspread over her arm and moved past them. “I’m sure I can entice her to come with me.” Okay, she wasn’t as sure as she sounded, but she would at least try. Sometimes her mother knew and responded to her. Most times she didn’t.

  “We’ll still need to file a report,” the female cop called out as Caroline pushed past them and onto the dock. “We need your information.”

  A report? Caroline tried to imagine filling out their forms with her frightened, naked mother in tow. Didn’t they realize this would be tricky at best?

  “All I ask is that you try to stay out of the way.” Caroline directed this at Steve, since he actually seemed a bit infatuated with her, which might’ve been flattering under different circumstances. “Police uniforms frighten her,” she explained. “And if she sees you two again, she might really jump, and I’m sure it wouldn’t take long for someone her age to get hypothermia. You wouldn’t want to be responsible for that, would you?”

  “We’ll keep a low profile,” he told her. “You just take your time and see if you can calm her down and get her safely out of there. Just yell if you need help.”

  Of course she needed help, she thought as she walked down the dock. As calm as she had tried to appear for the sake of the police, she knew her rescue attempt could go a number of directions. And so she whispered a desperate plea for real help. “Please, God, let my mother come peacefully.” She was near the end of the dock now. “Peacefully and painlessly. Please!”

  “Mom?” she sang out in a sweet voice. Not that her mother normally responded to either Mom or a sweet voice, but it couldn’t hurt to try. “It’s Caroline,” she called again. Still no answer. At least she wouldn’t be catching the poor woman unawares. Her mother hated to be surprised.

  Fortunately, there was only one boat on the end of the dock, and since it was tied off close, it was easy to climb aboard. Caroline hopped onto the deck and called in a pleasant tone, “Ahoy, Mom, are you aboard?” She heard a shuffling sound on the other side of the cabin area and suspected her mom had heard her calling, was fully aware that Caroline was there, and yet didn’t want to reveal her whereabouts, which meant this was going to be a game of hide-and-seek. It had been one of Caroline’s favorite games as a child. Not that her mother ever had time for such games back then—back when Caroline could’ve appreciated it. Now her mother liked to play it a lot. Unfortunately, it was never much fun now.

  “It’s okay, Mom. It’s just me—your daughter—Caroline.” She noticed a dirty bait bucket and wished she had something to tempt her mother with, something to entice her out of hiding. If only she’d had the foresight to bring a Milky Way candy bar, which she tried to use only on the rare occasion when her mom was being completely unreasonable. The best way to her mom’s heart was via a McDonald’s cheeseburger and fries and, in really desperate situations, a milkshake. A vanilla shake would come in quite handy right now.

  “Are you hungry, Mom?” she called out, hoping it wouldn’t backfire on her when her mom discovered that Caroline had come empty-handed. “How about a cheeseburger and fries, Mom? And a vanilla shake, too?”

  No answer. Just the sound of a westerly breeze snapping the pirate flag on one of the masts. “Are you cold, Mom? I brought something for you to wrap up in.” Now Caroline opened the bedspread as if it were a net, deciding to go ahead and make her approach. Worst-case scenario, she could wrap up her mom, forcibly remove her from the boat, and herd her back down the dock, calling out for reinforcement from the police. Surely the three of them could wrangle her into the back of the SUV. Caroline tiptoed around the side of the cabin, careful not to startle her mother by stumbling over the heavy ropes loosely coiled at her feet.

  As she quietly rounded the corner and spotted the hunched figure of her mother, Caroline felt a shockwave of recognition run through her. Turned away from Caroline, the old woman was crouched in a fetal-like position with her arms pulled tightly together in front of her, fists clenched in a protective and defensive way. But her parchment skin was so pale and her body so skinny, with shocks of white fuzzy hair sticking off the top of her head, she almost didn’t seem human. From a distance, and in a lesser light, she might’ve been mistaken for an alien.

  Caroline felt a lump in her throat and a sickening in the pit of her stomach. Was this what it finally came down to? Was this how Caroline would end up one day? Naked, frightened, alone, and confused? Where was the purpose, the meaning in this? Why did some old people have to suffer so?

  “Oh, Mom.” The words came out in a quiet sob as she wrapped the bedspread around her mother’s scrawny frame and held her tight. At first her mother struggled against her, but with little strength, and she eventually gave in. She was obviously spent—too tired, too cold to resist. Caroline continued to hold her mother in her arms, pulling her close, hoping some of her own body warmth would soak through the bedspread and into her mother. Caroline rocked her gently as if soothing a frightened child. She gently crooned to the tune of an old seventies song: “It’ll be all right, it’ll be all right.” Slowly, her mother relaxed.

  The question now was how to get her mom off the boat, down the dock, past the police and curious crowd, and into her SUV. It seemed impossible. And her mother seemed very weak. How far could she realistically walk?

  “Do you want to lie down and rest?” Caroline asked quietly.

  Her mother nodded, her eyes damp and tired.

  “Yes.” Caroline nodded too. “That’s a good idea.” She helped her mother to a vinyl-upholstered bench that ran along the sunny side of the cabin. Grabbing an orange life vest to use as a makeshift pillow, she eased her mother down, the bedspread still wrapped around her like a shroud.

  “Just close your eyes and rest, Mom.” Caroline sat near her mother’s head, tucking the bedspread around her bare shoulders and stroking the fine white hair, wishing for a miracle. Caroline took in a slow, deep breath in an attempt to calm herself so that she could think more clearly. She leaned her head back, feeling the warm sun on her face and listening to the sound of the water lapping up against the sides of the boat, the flapping flag in the breeze above her, and the haunting cries of seagulls nearby. Yes, it would be all right. Somehow it would be all right.

  It wasn’t long until her mother’s even breathing assured Caroline she was soundly asleep. Quietly and almost refl
exively, Caroline reached into her bag to retrieve her cell phone. But who to call? She wished she knew a big, strong guy—someone who could simply pick up her mother and carry her to Caroline’s car—and then perhaps he’d carry Caroline away as well, off to his palace. But this was real life. She needed real friends, and there, listed first in her cell phone directory, was Abby’s name. Since Abby seemed to know almost everyone in town, she would be a good choice, except Caroline was pretty sure that Abby and Paul had a marriage counseling session today. There was no way she wanted to disturb that.

  Marley was a possibility, except that her house was a ways out of town, and Caroline knew that Marley was working feverishly to finish a painting in time for a special exhibit at the One-Legged Seagull. Finally, Caroline decided on Janie. Although their relationship was sometimes strained, she trusted Janie. And having been a smart New York attorney, Janie should have some brilliant ideas for how to handle this.

  “It’s Caroline,” she said quietly after Janie answered. “I need help.”

  “What’s wrong?” Janie sounded alarmed.

  “It’s my mom.” Caroline gave her a quick rundown of her morning thus far and explained how she was now stuck with a naked and frightened mother on a smelly fishing boat with the police waiting nearby. “I asked them to hold off,” she said finally, “but I don’t know how long they’ll do that. You know how police can be.” Just then Caroline noticed her mother’s bare feet and gasped. They were bleeding.

  “What is it?” Janie asked with concern.

  “Her feet—she might need medical attention too.”

  “Okay,” Janie said crisply. “I’m on it.”

  “Or just some flip-flops so we can walk her to my car.”

  “I’m getting in my car right now.”

  “Hey, could you stop by McDonald’s on the way?”

  “What?” Janie sounded incredulous. “Are you serious?”

  Caroline quickly explained that fast food somehow soothed her mother. “You know, just in case she’s difficult when she wakes.”

  “Okay, I’ll call Abby and ask her to pick up the food and to meet us at the dock, okay?”