More Than We Remember

by Christina Suzann Nelson

  Seth scrubbed his fingers through Chester’s thick fur, earning the mutt’s loyalty forever. “I love him. How old is he?”

  “Nearing five months.”

  Seth stood straight. “You’re kidding me. He’s huge.”

  “No kidding. I thought he’d be good protection, living out here on my own, but he’s more coward than warrior.” She tugged Chester back by his collar and stepped out onto the porch, slipping the door closed between the dog and them.

  “Wow.” Seth took in her appearance. “You look amazing.”

  She shrugged, feeling as though she’d gotten away with something, thanks to her last-minute clothing change. “It’s easy to impress when you’ve seen me in the middle of the night and after a long run.”

  A dimple appeared on the right side of his face, and his gaze lingered until she found herself forced to look away, reminding herself that he was the same guy she’d grown up with. Isolation was probably messing with her mind.

  She looked back toward Seth, who held out an arm for her. It would take a lot of convincing for her brain to believe the story she was selling. She couldn’t find a trace of the jock who didn’t look her way. The man who walked beside her carried himself with confidence and humility. If she could talk to anyone about the concerns in Amanda’s case, it was Seth.

  They pulled up to the pizza place. Already, many of the outside tables were filled with families or couples. Hanging bulbs glittered in the dimming light. The scents of oregano, basil, and garlic drifted on the warm night air. Something about Pisano’s gave Brianne the feeling that she was on vacation, transported to another country.

  Seth grabbed a menu from a rack by the cast-iron fence that bordered the outdoor seating. “What do you think? Inside or out?”

  She started to answer with the typical I don’t care but thought better of it. “Outside.”

  “My thoughts exactly. We don’t get enough of these perfect summer evenings. It would be a shame to waste one.”

  Brianne’s heart raced. Those were her very thoughts whenever she sat on her porch watching the sun slip behind the mountains, listening to the frogs take up their songs.

  Seth led her to an open table and handed her the menu.

  It took only a moment to settle on the chicken pesto pizza and two iced teas. But once they’d finished, silence stepped between them.

  Brianne listened as other couples laughed and joked, wishing she were the kind of woman who had adventures to relay. But she found it easier to chat with Hannah about books than with a man about any subject.

  “Did you think any more about the Tanger guy?”

  Brianne swallowed hard. If she was right, an injustice had occurred. An innocent man had spent years in prison for a crime he didn’t commit. But those thoughts slipped away more easily now that she knew he was out of prison. Wasn’t that enough? Clyde may have paid for a crime he didn’t commit, but by the sound of it, he had gotten away with others. She sighed. “It’s complicated.”

  “Sure. Anything that involves people is. Would talking about it help?”

  A server delivered two tall glasses of iced tea and set straws on the table.

  Seth reached for the sugar and poured at least a tablespoon into his glass.

  Brianne’s eyes grew wide. “Wow.”

  “Hey.” He winked. “Don’t judge.”

  The awkward silence drifted away on their laughter.

  She took a long drink, then set her glass back onto the circle of condensation it had already formed on the table. “I’m not sure what to do about the situation. I’ve reviewed my notes and rewatched the sessions, and I’m convinced I was wrong. I screwed up, and a man went to prison.”

  He held up his hand. “Wait a minute. You’re pretty impressive, but I’ve been a cop for a while. You made the initial report to Child Protective Services, right?”

  She nodded, wishing she liked even a little sugar in her tea so that she’d have that to stir.

  “Doesn’t CPS have some responsibility too? What about the investigating officer? And then there’s the mother. She needs to carry some of this weight. It was your job to make a report. You were a mandatory reporter. It wasn’t your job to declare innocence or guilt.” He reached across the table and laid his hand over hers. “Give yourself a break. You’re not God.”

  “Ouch.” She cringed.

  “I know. My brother gave me this same talk a couple of years ago.” He squeezed her hand, then looked down at it, seemingly shocked to find their fingers intertwined. He pulled back. “I’m sorry. That was very presumptuous of me. You obviously know how I feel about you, but I shouldn’t have crossed that line.”

  “How you feel about me?” Her heart thundered. “What do you mean?”

  “Well.” His face flushed. “I like you . . . a lot.”

  Brianne felt her eyes start to burn. She couldn’t cry. No one cried when a handsome man told her that he liked her. She blinked hard, begging them not to spill over. What kind of fool would he think she was?

  “And now I’ve totally put you on the spot. I’m sorry.” He thunked his forehead with the heel of his palm. “Nice one. I hope I haven’t ruined our friendship.”

  She grinned. In what dream could she have come up with Seth sitting across the table, thinking she wasn’t interested in him? She’d had a crush on him for as long as she remembered knowing him. Brianne reached across the table and wove her fingers between his.

  32

  Emilia bent over, picked at another weed, then tossed it back to the ground. What was the point? She wasn’t ever going to be one of those bring-home-the-bacon-fry-it-up-in-a-pan kind of women. When left to be the head of the household, she felt like her talents were limited to just getting by.

  Tally flipped another page in her book. August 15. Summer break was into its final weeks, and for once, Emilia could send her daughter back to school knowing she’d completed the requested reading hours. With her back pressed up against the siding and her ankles crossed in front of her, Tally looked like the sweet girl Emilia knew was still in there.

  “I love you, Tally.” Emilia curled her lips inward.

  She looked up from her story, eyes narrowed as if she was evaluating her mother’s words for errors. “Okay. Thanks.”

  Something thunked inside the house. They both turned toward the door as if the source would show itself.

  Two more deep thumps; then they came in a rhythm. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.

  Emilia jumped to her feet, her hand on her weapon out of training and habit. She threw the door open. Bang. Bang. Bang. “Roger?”

  No answer. Bang. Bang. The hollow thumps continued, maintaining their beat. She followed the sound toward the bathroom, where it reverberated off the walls. The door wouldn’t move. Something heavy held it shut. Emilia pounded on the door. “Roger? What’s going on in there?”

  Again, no answer.

  “Tally. Call 911, then bring me a screwdriver.” Emilia turned to her daughter. The color had faded in her face. “Hurry.”

  Bang. Bang. Bang.

  “Roger, I’m here! We’re getting help. Hold on.” Emilia slid to the floor, one eye against the gap between the door and the linoleum. A foul smell and the jerking movements of her husband pushed her back. She could be losing him right now. No matter how many times she’d wondered if death wouldn’t have been better, right now, she wasn’t ready. “Stay with me, Roger. Hang in there. I’m coming around to the window.”

  Emilia jumped up and found Tally with a screwdriver in her shaking hand and a cell phone to her ear.

  “Talk to him. I’m going to see if I can get in.”

  Tally dropped to her knees. “I’m here, Papa.”

  Emilia shook her head, dismissing her tears for action. She jogged through the house, grabbing the step stool as she ran through the kitchen. Outside, the hot sun scorched down on her as if in punishment. She pushed through brush, then edged along the narrow space between the side of their house and the weathered old fence t
hat separated their property from the neighbors’.

  At the window, Emilia attempted to balance the stool on the uneven ground. She climbed to the top step and popped the screen out of the way. The pounding had stopped, and Roger lay motionless in a pile on the unswept floor. Drool formed a ribbon from his mouth to his arm. His eyes were shut. Perspiration dripped along his brow.

  Emilia took hold of the windowsill and launched herself forward. Her belly landed hard on the edge of the windowsill, while her head and shoulders made it partially through the opening. The stool flew back, clanking into the fence. She shimmied and scooted, rough surfaces scraping at her skin, until she got both arms and her chest through the tight opening.

  Sirens blared in the distance, but she couldn’t take time to evaluate how far away they were. Emilia hung forward, her fingers catching hold of the counter, and pulled herself through, her legs crashing down on the toilet.

  Without missing a beat, she crawled to his side. “I’m here, Roger. Stay with me.”

  There was no response.

  Voices boomed through the house, followed by Tally’s cries of relief.

  “We’re in here!” Emilia yelled. She threaded her arms under her husband’s and slid him away from the door.

  Paramedics squeezed into the tiny room, and life went blurry. Beeps and thumps. Orders called out. Someone helped Emilia from the bathroom. Someone checked her leg, where blood flowed freely. Then they put her husband in the back of the ambulance, and he was gone.

  33

  I’m calling in Aunt Maria.” Emilia slid her cell from her pocket and scrolled through the contacts.

  Tally groaned. “Why? I’m not a little girl. I can handle myself. Besides, Maria is far less mature than I am.”

  She was probably right about the last part, but Emilia knew the dangers that lurked in the shadows of West Crow, and Tally was balancing on the line. One wrong move, and her daughter could be in trouble. She wouldn’t be the first officer to have a kid frequent the court. “I’m calling her.” Emilia pressed the call button.

  “Long time no talk, sis.” Maria sounded like she’d just gotten out of bed.

  “Hey. Roger is in the hospital. It’s getting late. Can you help me out? I need you to come get Tally and take her home.”

  Tally rolled her eyes.

  “Seriously? What’s going on with him now?”

  Emilia willed herself to ignore Maria’s tone. “Can you do it?”

  “Sure. I’ll see if I can borrow Trevor’s car. I can be there in a couple hours. At the house?”

  “Come get Tally at the hospital.”

  “Got it.” Maria yawned, then disconnected.

  “I can’t believe you hate me this much.” Tally crossed her arms, her jaw tight. “You treat me like I’m a useless baby.”

  If only Emilia could go back to Tally’s baby days. What she thought was tough then was nothing compared to now.

  Emilia walked to the door of the private family waiting room. How long would it take to get some answers? Her mind drifted back to that night fifteen months earlier. She’d gotten the call and rushed to the hospital after dropping Tally at the neighbors’ house. That night had stretched on, leading to weeks in the hospital followed by a rehab facility. And just when she thought her husband was coming back, Roger had started drifting further and further away, until she now lived with a complete stranger.

  How could this night be any worse than that one?

  He could die.

  The possibility was just as strong now as it had been then. At any minute, a doctor could come around the corner, a somber look on his face, and declare Emilia a widow.

  Would that be worse or better than the way they’d been living?

  Emilia pressed her palms into her face. She was a monster. That was the only explanation for a wife who wondered if she and her husband would be better off if he died. How would she ever be able to forgive herself if he did?

  The grim-faced doctor entered and walked toward her, and Tally’s hand slipped into Emilia’s.

  “Mrs. Cruz, I’m Dr. Harrison.” His eyes were deep with sympathy. “This must have been a horrible scare for both of you.” He motioned to a set of chairs.

  They sat, Emilia’s gaze never leaving the doctor’s mouth. Her profiling gifts didn’t always come in handy. “What’s happening?”

  “We have Roger stabilized. And we’re running tests. I’ve also made a call to a specialist who will be consulting on this case.” Dr. Harrison laced his fingers together. “Roger has been through a lot this year. I’m afraid it looks like we may have another battle to fight with him. I want you both to take good care of yourselves. He’s going to need you.”

  JUDGMENT CAME IN many flavors. The judgment of the court was just the vanilla. There was public judgment, like the recent letter to the editor calling for Caleb to be fired, and the hidden kind that found its spice in whispered secrets and exaggerated rumors. Addison had grown full of all of it.

  Had no one in this town ever made a mistake?

  She should have let Brianne come along like she’d offered, but taking her up on it felt like failure of another kind. It was Addison’s job to keep her family on track, to keep them from sinking into the darkness. She had to stay strong.

  “Come on, Mom.” Hannah tugged at her arm. “I want to see if Tally is here.”

  They took those first steps into West Crow Middle School, a place that, by definition, would leave her daughter with scars under the best of circumstances.

  Addison shivered as she remembered her own eighth-grade year. She was sure she’d fallen in love with a boy who played the trumpet and who had hair that floated on the wind when he ran. Her heart raced and her palms sweated. At home, she wrote her name with his last name over and over, until she mastered her future signature. Her hopes had all come crashing down during lunch in the cafeteria. The girl she thought was her best friend told the boy, and the boy stuck his finger deep into his mouth, miming his need to vomit at the thought of the two of them together.

  If that had been the only humiliation, maybe she wouldn’t have such fear for her daughter now. On top of the normal drama, Hannah was the new girl—the one whose father had just been arrested.

  They followed signs directing them down the hall and turned into the gym for registration. Where the halls had been calm, the gymnasium was buzzing. Teachers were stationed along the wall, with lines of students and parents in front of each of them. In the middle, another table was set up with a Start Here sign.

  Addison and Hannah did as the other sheep, stepping into the line. Eventually they reached the front of the short line, where a rounded older woman with tight curls and a welcoming smile asked for Hannah’s name.

  “Hannah Kilbourn,” Addison said.

  A gasp turned Addison and Hannah around.

  The woman behind her, blond and too tan, put her hand over her mouth. “Sorry. I just remembered something.” Her eyebrows twitched.

  Prickles dotted Addison’s arms and legs. She’d just witnessed one of the worst liars in the state, and the woman didn’t appear to have an ounce of regret. She was starting the year with a thirty-something middle schooler to contend with.

  The woman behind the desk tapped Addison’s arm with a stack of papers.

  “Oh, thank you.” Her voice shook.

  “This is very simple. Read over the schedule. We already have Hannah in our system, and her school records have been transferred. We did our best to anticipate which classes she would like, but kids this age are hard to predict.” She winked at Hannah. “If you don’t like your classes, look through what’s offered during that time slot and request a change with the counselor. And take some time to meet the teachers. It’s going to be a great year.” Her smile was like a reassuring hug.

  “Thank you.” Addison held one hand to her chest.

  “It’s my pleasure. Caleb spoke so highly of you all. I’m glad we finally get to have one of your kids in our school. Call me at the of
fice if you have any questions.”

  Addison took her first deep breath of the day. “Thank you. That means a lot.” Addison waved good-bye as the woman next in line let out another exaggerated sigh.

  “There she is.” Hannah pointed to a slender girl with straight dark hair and hurried over to her. The pair thrust their schedules toward each other, then got down to the business of comparing.

  All that worry about Hannah withdrawing from others and not finding a friend—what a waste of time that had been. Worry wasn’t the answer. Addison knew that. Taking control and deliberate action, those were the qualities she needed to employ now more than ever. “You must be Tally.” Addison pasted on her best fun-mom smile.

  Tally nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

  The girl had good taste in friends and manners. Perfect. “Is your mother here?” Addison looked around as if she could spot a woman she’d never seen before.

  Tally’s smile faded. “No. My dad’s in the hospital. My aunt Maria is here instead. She’s staying until . . .” Tally pointed at a woman leaning on the wall of the gymnasium, her gaze glued to her cell phone and her long red nails texting at breakneck speed.

  “I’m so sorry, Tally. Please let us know if there’s anything we can do to help.” Addison’s heart ached. No wonder she and Hannah were connecting. They were both in the middle of family trauma.

  “Thank you.”

  “How about a playdate at our farm? I can pick you up and bring you home.”

  Hannah rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Mom. We’re in middle school. We don’t have playdates.”

  “Okay.” Addison reached to brush Hannah’s hair away from her face but caught herself just in time. Bad choice. “Tally, would you like to come over tomorrow and hang?” She cocked a hip.

  “I’d love that. Let me check with my aunt.” She trotted over to the woman and tapped her arm to get her attention.

  A moment later, the aunt waved their way and nodded, her bright lips a red that matched her nails.

  Tally returned. “She said tomorrow would be fine. Hannah knows where I live.”