“Hi, sweetheart.” I give my son a kiss on his lightly bearded cheek. He’s looking much healthier these days. I turn to Ember. “How are you feeling?”
She smiles and strokes her bulging waist. “Good, but ready to have this baby. She’s so active, she won’t let me sleep. See? Here she goes again. She’s dancing to the sound of your voice.” Ember takes my hand and rests it on her belly. I feel the baby move.
“I think that’s a foot,” I say.
“Or a fist.” Ember has let her hair grow; it almost reaches her neck. Soon there’ll be no sign of the scar left by the pastor’s knife.
Alice gets up and gives them both a hug. “Can’t believe my baby brother’s going to be a dad.”
Adam rolls his eyes and smiles. “Crazy, right?”
She nods. “I’ll put on some music.”
I eye her warily. “What kind?”
She laughs. “I’ll make it oldies just for you.”
“Perfect.”
“Alice doing okay?” I ask Adam once she’s inside the house.
He nods. “Think so. There might be a boyfriend. She’s been hinting around.”
“There is,” Ember says with a smile. “She’s mentioned him a couple of times. He sounds wonderful, but she wants to keep him a secret for now. Make sure he’s the right one before introducing him to the family.”
Alice’s reserve still hurts my feelings, but I work to swallow my words. It’ll take time to repair my relationship with my children. I can’t expect them to trust me right away. But the fact that we can have fun evenings together is more than enough for now.
“Is he a musician?” I ask.
“A writer. Mostly screenplays, I think.”
I nod, pleased to hear the news.
“I’ll break out the beer,” Adam says. “Want anything?”
“No, thanks.” I point to my glass of Pinot. “I’m good.”
Adam steps inside, and Ember turns to me. “He loves his new job, by the way. He thinks so highly of the chef.”
“I read a review of his restaurant. It’s the biggest hit in town.” I scan Ember’s face. She’s looking a little wan. “How about you?” I ask. “Still enjoying day care?”
She claps her hands together. “It’s wonderful. I love little ones. And I’m learning the Montessori system. It makes a lot of sense.”
“A lot easier than working with the elderly.”
“Yes.” Her voice drops the slightest bit. “But I liked working with them too.”
I understand why Ember won’t step foot on the Serenity Acres campus; the trauma of the knife attack will forever leave its mark. But I enjoy being in charge these days, making sure things run just right. No more targeting of the destitutes. They’ll have their homes for the rest of their lives. And we’ve brought in a counselor to work with our elders on managing depression and loneliness. The Goodnight Club continues on, just in another form.
The side gate squeals opens, and Zach steps in with Carlyn on his arm. “Ready for the master to barbeque?” he booms, his blue eyes sparking bright.
“I sure am.” I hurry down the steps and give them a quick hug. “How are you?” I ask Carlyn.
She waves her hand, and the diamond flashes. “I couldn’t be more content.” Carlyn has lost the weight she gained during the early months of incarceration. Thank God they gave her time served. With the support of Zach and me and a few old friends, the judge erred on the side of leniency. No additional jail time, just five years’ probation and a commitment to volunteer. We’re back to walking most mornings; it’s almost like old times. Despite the terrible events of the past few years, we both seem much happier now.
I spend a few minutes raving over her engagement ring. Zach smiles like the proud husband-to-be that he is and then grabs a plate of hamburgers and gets to work.
Later that evening, after everyone has left, Alice and I sit out on the back porch, marveling at the stars. They’re especially bright this evening—not the slightest hint of fog. She’s had a little too much to drink, but truth is, so have I. There’s a party raging nearby—lots of happy shouts and the ring of children’s voices.
“I’ve always liked Labor Day,” Alice says. “A family holiday without the pressure of gifts.”
“Yes, but it means the end of summer. And you’ll be leaving again soon.”
“I’ll be home by Christmas. That’s not so very long. And I’m excited about touring in Australia. I hear it’s an incredible place.”
I nod, wanting to ask about the boyfriend, but tell myself, Don’t you dare.
“What about you, Mom?” she asks, turning to me. “Won’t you be lonely?”
“I’ll have a granddaughter to fill my time.”
She’s quiet for a moment. “I know, but . . . does it bother you that Zach and Carlyn are engaged? I mean, somehow I thought you and Zach might hook up.”
I finger my purple Fitbit. It stopped working the night of the attack, but I have yet to take it off. It’s how Detective Ruiz was able to locate me after Zach filled him in on the Angel’s antics, he discovered the pastor’s fingerprint on the anonymous photos, and I was nowhere to be found. It’s become my good luck charm. “Zach and I are exactly in the place we should be,” I say. “We’ll always be friends, and I’m happy for him and Carlyn. But for the time being, I need to work on myself.”
“So you’ll be taking those photography classes?”
“I started at City College last week.”
“Good for you. And what about the therapist?”
“She’s been marvelous. It really helps.”
Alice reaches for my hand. “I’m proud of you, Mom. I really am.”
I smile and gaze at the stars and think back on my dream from last night. Once again, I had morphed into an oak tree, but this time it was my nightmare in reverse. I began life as a budding acorn, and my trunk grew thick and strong. Soon my limbs pointed toward the heavens and were covered with verdant leaves. Squirrels feasted on my seeds, birds nested in my crown, and children frolicked among my roots. And as a full moon rose in a velvety sky, I fell into a deep and peaceful sleep.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
First and foremost, thank you to my family, Phil, Jessica, Ali, Peter, and now Soren and Sage. Your steadfast encouragement means more to me than a million five-star reviews. Thank you to my fabulous agent, Rebecca Scherer, who brings calm to any storm. To my insightful reader Cynthia Wessendorf, who smooths flaws from my early drafts. To Jessica Tribble and the Thomas & Mercer team for their unfailing and tireless support. To my good friend Laurie Leighty, who leads my local publicity team. To my unofficial weapons expert Ruairi Bateson for introducing me to the nuances of knives. And to my coworkers at Santa Barbara’s Habitat for Humanity for reminding me of what is important in this world.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo © 2018 Linda Blue Photography
Catharine Riggs lives and writes on California’s central coast. Before turning to fiction writing, Riggs worked as a business banker, an adjunct college instructor, and a nonprofit executive. What She Never Said is her second novel. Visit the author online at www.catharineriggs.com.
What She Never Said Page 28