by Edie Claire
Joan’s eyes flooded with tears. She dropped into her chair, her eyes still locked on Laney.
“This isn’t what we were expecting,” Gordon said gruffly. “Are you claiming to be our deceased granddaughter? Is that what this is about?”
Laney drew in a ragged breath, determined to keep her composure. She hadn’t said anything of the kind, and she would not let Gordon put words in her mouth. “I came here to tell you what I know,” she said softly, but firmly. “You’re free to draw your own conclusions. Until a few weeks ago I didn’t see anything strange in the tornado story I grew up with, other than the improbability of any toddler being lifted up into a funnel cloud and surviving. Everyone said it was a miracle. I had no reason to believe that any deception was involved until my mother—” her voice cracked. Guilt pummeled her at the implied accusation, but she reined it in. “My mother died of cancer shortly before Christmas. She was raised by her grandmother, my great-grandmother May, who is eighty-seven now and has dementia. Gran had been getting worse for years, but my mom’s death accelerated her decline, and after the funeral she started saying things that disturbed me. Like how I wasn’t their Laney. How I was ‘the other one.’”
Joan, who had been sitting with her husband’s arm around her shoulders, grasped his free hand tightly with both of hers. She turned her mouth to his ear and murmured something Laney couldn’t hear.
Gordon shook his head. He looked thoroughly miserable. “Please don’t do this, Joan. I told you that you shouldn’t come. You know what happened the last time!”
The last time? Laney’s stomach roiled. Had they been the targets of a fraud in the past?
“Listen, young lady,” Gordon said to her, sternly. “Stop dancing all around this. If you want to claim to be Jessica Macdonald, let’s see your proof right now. Otherwise, we’re done here. My wife has suffered enough. And frankly,” his eyes glinted ever so slightly with sadness, “so have I.”
Laney felt a new, crushing weight of guilt. Maybe she shouldn’t have put them through this. Maybe she’d only made everything worse. “I don’t have any proof,” she admitted. “I don’t know the truth myself. I didn’t ask for any of this; when I started having suspicions I set out to disprove them. But I couldn’t. Instead, I kept finding little things that made the impossible seem even more likely. And then when I saw a picture of your daughter—”
She stopped. She was getting ahead of herself. “I don’t want to upset anybody, or disrupt anyone’s life, including my own. That’s why I did everything I could think of to get answers myself, before involving you. I even sent off a DNA test, a maternity test with hair from my mother’s hairbrush. But lab results take weeks, and when I found the pictures—”
The pictures! She reached for her bag, but Jason was ahead of her. He had already fished out the stack of photos and was holding them out to her. Laney flashed him a small smile of gratitude as she accepted them.
“The first thing I did was go to our family photo album,” she continued. “So that I could prove to myself that I was me. But what I found was a gap. Between about six months and nearly two, there were no photographs of me at all. My mother had always said they were lost at the developers. But then I found the negatives, which she’d kept and hidden. The toddler in the negatives didn’t look like me. But these pictures did. They were taken after the tornado.”
She laid four pictures on the table, fanned out for the Tremblays to see. Pictures of a smiling two-year-old with her mother and her grandparents. The moan that escaped Joan’s lips was painful to hear. “Oh, Gordon,” she choked. “Look. Look!”
Gordon looked. And for a brief moment, he seemed nearly broken. His shoulders slumped, his jaw went slack, and his eyes widened. But in the next moment, everything changed again. He swept up the photos in his hand. “May we borrow these?” he asked, his tone less hostile, but still distant. “We’ll need to have them examined by a professional. Let’s go, Joan.”
She looked up at her husband disbelievingly. “But—”
“Photographs can be doctored,” he said to her tenderly, but firmly, helping her to her feet. “Please. You promised.”
Joan’s dark eyes, now watering profusely, rested on Laney apologetically. Longingly. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “But we’ve been through this before. And it was very hard.”
“I’m sure it was,” Laney said genuinely. “I’m sorry.”
Joan almost smiled, but then averted her eyes. “Let’s go, then,” she said to her husband.
“Give us twenty-four hours to check this out,” Gordon ordered. “Then we’ll see where we stand. We’ll meet here again, tomorrow. Same time.”
“That’s… fine.” Laney felt a sudden spurt of terror. She rose with them. “But… please! Before you go, I need you to understand something!”
The Tremblays stopped moving and looked at her. “What’s that?” Gordon demanded suspiciously.
“Please, try to understand my position,” Laney pleaded. “I’m a graduate student. I have my great-grandmother to take care of. Only Laney Miller can do that. If something gets out that… that I’ve been living under a false identity, that my passport isn’t valid, that I’m not really my great-grandmother’s legal guardian…” The Tremblays were staring at her blankly. She began to panic. “Don’t you see? I have to trust you, right now. What I’ve told you could put me in serious legal jeopardy!”
Joan shot a warning look up at Gordon, who for once kept his mouth shut. Joan stepped forward and put out a hand to press Laney’s arm. “We do understand,” she said mildly, although her voice was still strained. “Don’t worry, honey. We’ll… well, we’ll talk more tomorrow, all right?”
Laney didn’t see that she had a choice. With no more than quiet, sharp nods all around, the Tremblays took her pictures and walked out the door. Their mugs of coffee remained on the table. Untouched.
Laney dropped back into her chair, exhausted.
“You handled that brilliantly,” Jason praised.
She blew out a breath. “It didn’t feel that way.” She had ruined everything. She hadn’t known what to expect, but she’d never thought the encounter would end like this — would feel like this. Gordon had acted as though he hated her. Joan had seemed more open minded, but sooner or later he would convince her that Laney was a fraud — a lookalike that some scammer had recruited to play the part. They’d hardly even asked her any questions! Now she’d lost her baby pictures. Never mind that she hadn’t looked at them for years — she felt like a chunk of her life had been stolen.
“You can’t expect to be objective,” Jason said.
Laney could hear him, but his voice seemed disembodied. Her eyes stayed fixed on the puddles of coffee that had sloshed out on the table. The air around her was frigid.
“From my perspective, your approach was perfect,” he continued. “You didn’t make any demands on them, you didn’t claim anything you couldn’t prove. You were upfront and honest; you were even sympathetic to their position. They could have been a hell of a lot more sympathetic to yours, in my opinion, but I’ll make allowances for their being blindsided. Their reaction was normal and expected. You have to remember, this meeting was just the first step.”
Laney turned to him, feeling slightly more hopeful. “You think so?”
“Of course. You have to give them time to digest the information, to process the shock.” He rose and offered her a hand. “Now let’s get out of this insane air conditioning and back into the sun. You could use a little more Maui right now, don’t you think?”
Laney smiled weakly, put her hand in his, and stood. He looked so alive, so solid, so dependable. He had said almost nothing, yet his quiet presence at her side had been priceless. He’d felt no need to butt in or take charge. He’d just been there. For her.
“Would you mind terribly if we just go back to the condo?” she asked. “It’s already evening in Tofino time, and I’m beat.”
“What about dinner?” he asked, sounding d
isappointed.
“We bought groceries this morning, remember? I can just nuke something.” Laney wondered if she should tell him that all she really wanted to do was curl up on the couch with her head on his shoulder, eat popcorn, watch a movie, and forget that anyone named Tremblay ever existed. But she wasn’t sure how he would take that suggestion. It sounded pretty relationship-y.
He shrugged and nodded. “Fine. Back to the condo, then.”
They drove back to West Maui in near silence. The sun was already dropping low in the sky, and despite the beauty of the ocean on one side and a dormant volcano on the other, she had trouble keeping her eyes open. Only after they had returned to the condo and she had shoved her dinner into the microwave did either of them speak of the meeting again. She wanted to put the Tremblays out of her mind, but her brain wouldn’t stop replaying the conversation. “Jason?” she asked uncertainly, leaning out over the kitchen counter toward where he stood, gazing out the windows at the lowering sun. “Do you think there’s any chance Gordon is really… a nice person?”
He walked toward her. “I don’t know, Laney, but I do know that the man we met today wasn’t Jessica Macdonald’s grandfather.”
“What?” she asked, distressed.
He shook his head with a smile, then leaned over the counter. “The man we met was Gordon Tremblay, CEO. The businessman. The hard-nosed intimidator. It’s a role he plays; all executives do. It’s like a poker face. At home with his wife, with his son, even out on his fishing boat — he could be completely different. You saw hints of that in the way he talked to Joan, didn’t you? He was trying to be a hardass with you and comfort his wife at the same time — that’s why he didn’t want her to be there. My guess is she was with him this morning when he got the letter, and she insisted on coming.”
Laney wanted to be hopeful. But she was afraid to be. “He seemed domineering. He could have made her come.”
“Why would he? Nah. I’ll bet you anything Joan has that man wrapped around her little finger.”
Laney smiled. Jason was being so sweet to her. He seemed to know just what to say. But she wanted more than words. She walked around the counter, and he straightened as she approached. “I don’t know what to do with myself now,” she confessed. “I don’t even know what to hope for. What do you think they’ll do?” As she’d hoped, his arm slid naturally around her shoulders, and she leaned into his side.
“I think they’ll hire a private detective,” he answered, giving her a brotherly sideways hug. “I think that by four o’clock tomorrow, they’ll know everything there is to know about Laney Miller, and probably about Jason Buchanan, too. And every bit of it will back up your story. You have nothing to worry about. They’ll know you’re not a fraud.”
A sudden chill crept down her spine. She had other fears. Deeper fears. Fears she hadn’t managed to voice yet, even to herself. “But what is the truth, Jason?” she forced out finally, her voice a rough whisper. “Who am I, really? Am I still Laney, or… am I Jessica?”
He turned; his eyes found hers. “You’re the same person you’ve always been, and always will be,” he said with emphasis. “It’s not your fault if people called you by different names at different points in your life. You are you. The reality you’ve lived is the only reality.” He broke off his gaze and pulled her to his chest, then rubbed her back gently. “Call yourself whatever you like. Let others make the adjustment. I have to confess, though, I like the name Laney. It’s cute and sassy, just like you.”
She chuckled into his shoulder. This felt good; he felt good. But she wanted more. What would it matter if he broke her heart later? That organ had been nothing but a quivering mass of pulp since her mother died, anyway. What was one more blow?
She raised her head. She smiled and leaned her lips toward his…
Suddenly, they were apart. Jason was holding her away from him. “No,” he said softly. “Not now.”
“Now is good,” she argued.
“No, it’s not.” He dropped his hands from her arms and stepped away. “You’re vulnerable as hell right now, and despite first impressions, I am not a jerk.” He picked up his keys from the counter. “We’ve had this conversation twice already. We’re friends. Period.”
“Where are you going?” she asked with horror. She couldn’t deal with another night like the last one. She just couldn’t!
He stopped. His gray-green eyes studied her a moment, their depths fraught with conflicting emotions. Frustration. Lust. Resignation. Hopefulness. But what finally rose to the surface was pity. “I’m only going out to grab something to eat,” he said mildly. “I’ll come back.” His lips curved into the faintest of smiles. “Alone.”
Chapter 29
Jason threw away the wrapper from a ridiculously overpriced burger and headed to the beach to catch the sunset. He felt bad leaving Laney in the condo by herself, but if she insisted on tempting him to take advantage of her she was eventually going to get what she wanted. Except that it wouldn’t be what she wanted. He wasn’t what she wanted.
No woman who cared about marriage and a family would want him. He’d never had the faintest desire to get married, or even to date one woman exclusively for any length of time. He wasn’t jealous or possessive of the women he dated, and he studiously avoided any who refused to offer him the same leeway. He had a system. It had been working great for a long time now.
Laney was screwing up everything. The woman was possessive as all get out — she’d practically cried when she thought he was heading out to the bars again. Never mind that she kept saying they should only be friends! But instead of having the reaction he should have had, which was to be annoyed and set her straight, he’d actually liked it. He was glad she was jealous. What the hell was that about?
Even worse, he felt possessive of her! The idea of her being with another man drove him batcrap crazy.
He picked up a hunk of coral from the sand, drew back his arm, and sent it sailing over the ocean. The beach was crowded with happy people, which was irritating. Spooning couples, cavorting kids, intergenerational families… all were oohing and aahing over the magnificent sunset.
There was nothing wrong with his chosen lifestyle. He tried to make women happy, they made him happy, and nobody got hurt. He was happy!
Except when he started thinking about something he never used to think about: the distant future. His own middle age. Would the lifestyle he enjoyed so much now still work for him then? When he was in his fifties, would he be hooking up with single forty- and fifty-year-old women? He frowned. Not too many women in that category came to Tofino to surf. And the image of his middle-aged self trolling the beaches for twenty-somethings was disturbing. He knew men like that. He considered them pathetic.
The sunset was brilliant, with vibrant oranges and reds and almost-purples reflecting off the low-lying clouds over the water. He turned away from it and headed for one of the alleyways between the resorts.
Was his chosen lifestyle a legitimate, socially evolved choice… or was it just immature?
No, he argued with himself. Marriage wasn’t for everyone, and it wasn’t for him. Age was irrelevant. His dad was in his seventies, and — aside from the brief, otherwise disastrous marriage that had produced Jason and Thane — he had always been happily single. Jason was like his dad in many ways. Stanley Buchanan insisted that he was better off single because he could never make any woman happy, which made perfect sense to Jason. Stanley had certainly hurt Jason’s mother enough. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t a good father to—
Jason huffed out a growl. He liked kids and wouldn’t mind having a few of his own, but the idea was a non-starter. Kids didn’t fit into the big picture, and that was that. Mei Lin and Thane would have a baby soon; being an uncle would be stellar.
He emerged into a lighted parking lot. He stopped. His muscles were tense, his heart was beating fast, and he felt like crap. What was wrong with him?
Laney was wrong with him.
H
e had to do something about it. He pulled out his phone and clicked into his contacts. His call rang several times before it was answered.
“Jason!” his brother’s hearty voice greeted. “What’s up?”
“Hey, bro,” Jason returned, leaning against a lamppost. “Listen, I need some advice.”
“Oh? You got a wolf problem?”
Jason wished. “No. Woman problem.”
Silence followed.
“Thane?”
“Yeah, man, I’m here,” his brother said finally. “Just looking for someplace to sit down.”
Jason’s eyes rolled. His brother would milk this occasion for all it was worth. When it came to women and sex, Jason had always been the one giving the advice. Never mind that he was nearly three years younger.
“Okay,” Thane boomed happily. “You’ve got the guru of love, here. What seems to be the problem?”
Jason gritted his teeth a moment, then proceeded. “I just want to ask you a question. When you first met Mei Lin, what exactly was different about her? I mean, compared to the others.” Jason wasn’t sure how to put the question. His brother hadn’t had many others; where women were concerned, he’d always been like a bull in a china shop. Women were attracted to Thane; he just never knew quite what to do with them. But still, he’d managed a few relationships before his wife had come along. He must know something.
“Well now,” Thane said thoughtfully. “That’s pretty easy. For one thing, I thought about her constantly. Even before anything physical happened between us. I just wanted to be around her, you know?”
Jason knew. He sighed. “What else?”
Thane thought a moment. “Well, the better I got to know her, the worse it got. I felt like I’d lost control of my own mind. And then there was this thing… I kept catching myself obsessing over what was best for her. You know, rather than just thinking about what I wanted. Makes me sound bad, I know, but when you first start seeing somebody you don’t always really care what—”