A Change of Plans

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A Change of Plans Page 18

by Donna K. Weaver


  An almost overwhelming desire to tell Braedon how much I loved his family filled me. Nighttime was hardest for me anyway. I ached to feel his body close to mine, and his arm around my waist as I drifted to sleep.

  For a fleeting moment, as sorrow gripped me, I wished I had never met him. Then I shuddered as an even greater pain caused me to gasp. No Braedon? That was the stupidest thought I had ever had.

  ELLE AND Mal came over the next morning while we were still eating breakfast. Eggs were what I craved the most. I had missed them on the island, and they were easy to cook in a variety of ways—without salt.

  Pulling up the chair beside me, Mal flipped it so he could sit on it backward. “Lyn, we keep getting calls from the press. Everyone wants to interview you—and I mean everyone. I even got a call from a big daytime talk show. You know, that classy Native American, Olivia Howard. She wants to do an entire show about you.”

  Aislinn bristled. “Lyn’s not interested, Mal, and we support her.”

  “I’m good with that,” he said easily. “But as the family spokesman, I need to provide some kind of statement.”

  I stared at him. “Family spokesman?”

  D’Arcy put his arm around his wife. “During the search for the catamaran, we were being pestered by the press, so we designated Mal as the family spokesman. He specializes in communications, so he’s comfortable in front of a camera, and he was more emotionally removed from what happened.”

  I regarded Mal and Elle. They probably would have never met if not for the pirate attack. I raised my orange juice in a toast. “To unexpected blessings.”

  Everyone raised their glasses and murmured agreement.

  CHAPTER 25

  OVER THE next few weeks, I finally stopped jumping at the sound of any phone call, thinking the Coast Guard might be calling to tell us they had found Braedon and the boys. I stayed a couple of weeks at Aislinn’s house and a couple with Elle. I got used to wearing clothing again and forced myself to sleep in a bed. I could even drink a cup of hot chocolate at three-quarter strength.

  I spent a lot of time on the Internet reading about world events and catching up on what I had missed. Having such a huge gap left me feeling even more disconnected. We had a new president, and I knew nothing about the campaign issues.

  Aislinn had a piano, and I spent a lot of time playing. It was in a room far from the bedrooms, so I could use it when I had trouble sleeping without bothering anyone. I lost myself in the music and found it therapeutic.

  I continued to dislike being in public, but Elle and Aislinn lured me out one morning with the temptation of looking for sheet music. When we arrived at a small shopping complex, I started toward the music store, but Elle snagged my elbow. “We’re going to hit the music store after the spa.”

  Aislinn took my other arm. “We’re going to get manicures and pedicures, and you’re going to have your hair done.”

  I pulled back. “Not my hair.”

  “Yes, your hair,” Elle insisted. “It’s not healthy, Lyn. We brought a bag so you can keep what they cut off.”

  Aislinn held up a gallon-sized plastic bag.

  They shepherded me into a high-class spa. I had always frequented the dollar cut type places. Wary, I checked for other customers, but we were the only ones there except for the receptionist.

  After she confirmed our appointment, she led us through an elegant door and down a hallway with a plush carpet, expensive artwork, and velvet-covered chairs. As she separated me from the others, I glared at Elle.

  The receptionist left me with a hairstylist, who complained about my hair and asked what I had been doing to let it get so damaged. All I could think of was everything Braedon and I had gone through to make our rudimentary soap. The memory made the scar on my leg itch. I was done.

  I stood up just as the owner approached from behind me. “My name is Patricia,” she introduced herself and turned to the hairstylist. “I’ll be doing Mrs. Randolph’s hair.” When the other woman left, looking abashed, Patricia gently pushed me back in the chair. She picked up one of my hands, rubbed the skin, and examined my nails.

  “I assume they have you on a good vitamin regime now.” She then pulled at a few strands of my hair. “I’m sure your limited diet contributed to the poor condition of your hair and skin.” She dropped the strand and smiled. “Under the circumstances, I would have expected your skin to look much worse.”

  The fact that she knew who I was and was so matter-of-fact about it put me at ease. I rubbed my hand, which looked much better than it had on the island. “I made a sort of lotion from coconut milk.”

  “I can’t even imagine how much work that would take. Well, we’ll provide everything you need today, and I’ll give Mrs. Armstrong a list of products to help.” Patricia’s eyes twinkled. “And you won’t have to make any of it yourself.”

  I spent the rest of the morning being soaked, deep conditioned, buffed, and painted. I tried to argue that my hair looked so much better after being conditioned and didn’t need to be cut anymore, but Patricia was resolute. I finally gave in. She kept it long but had to layer it to cut off the damaged ends.

  I had only one more unpleasant experience. During the full-body massage, I got to thinking about the island. When the therapist saw the tears running down the sides of my cheeks, she asked if she had gone too deep.

  Patricia, who was sitting to the side, came to me and asked, “Are you all right?” She seemed to understand it was more than physical pain.

  I shook my head and whispered, “No, but I will be.”

  She watched me, sympathetic. “Tell me if I can do anything.”

  I looked away to the wall. “You can’t bring him back.”

  Patricia touched my hand. “No, I’m sorry to say I can’t.” She nodded to the therapist.

  When everything was done, including the application of a little makeup, Patricia stood behind me before a full-length mirror. She fluffed and patted my hair as I examined my reflection.

  “Mrs. Randolph, I think you’ll be able to move around in public a little easier now. You don’t look so much like the wild woman dressed in animal skins from the news.”

  I smiled.

  After we purchased some music, we had lunch at a nice restaurant. No one gave me a second glance. I began to believe I might yet fit back in the real world.

  DURING THOSE weeks, in the back of my mind, I waited. It was more than the limbo of waiting for the slim chance that Braedon and the boys might be found. I needed to do something, but I didn’t know what. The last two years of my life had been focused on surviving, and before that, my job had given me purpose. While I began to feel like a civilized woman again, I still felt lost. I needed to move ahead, but I had no idea what direction to take.

  I decided to ask Marc if anything was left from our parents’ estate during a chat the following week.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, dismayed. “You were declared dead, and I inherited everything. I sold the house, but once I paid off the mortgage and the funerals, there was barely enough to settle my school loans.” Marc perked up. “Hey, my car’s paid off. I can get a loan against it and send it to you.”

  “No, that’s not necessary. I just need to do some traveling, and I don’t have any money.” I leaned back in my chair. “I’ll see about getting a job. You did what you should have, so don’t worry.”

  His face became somber. “It must be strange for you, not having a home to go to.”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  Aislinn entered the den. “She does too have a home, Marc— here. You of all people know that.”

  He put on a brooding expression that shifted to a mock seductive leer. “Hey, Ash! You’re lookin’ good ... as always.”

  Aislinn looked at me. “Your brother is such a flirt.”

  I eyed him. “Into older women now, huh, little brother? What would your Georgia peach think of this?”

  Marc waved a hand at me. “She knows about Ash.” He turned puppy dog eyes to A
islinn and exhaled. “The one who could have been the love of my life ... if I’d been born twenty years earlier.”

  “Ouch!” Aislinn cringed, laughing.

  Marc twisted in his seat when someone called his name. He turned back. “Hey, I gotta run.” He gave me the sign language symbol.

  “Love you, too,” I said, and Marc logged off.

  I grinned at Aislinn. “I can’t tell you how weird it still is that you even know him.”

  She came to sit beside me. “You do have money. Or you will when we work through the legal issues.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Braedon’s estate.”

  I held up my hand. “That’s yours.”

  “It is not!” She sat up. “It belongs to his wife. We could’ve had him declared dead a long time ago, but we decided to wait the seven years. D’Arcy, Mal, and I have been talking. We think we should appeal to the court for a death declaration now. If there’s any legal concern about your claim to his estate, I’ll just gift it to you. There’s close to a million dollars in the account.”

  I gaped at her. “I can’t take that.” I felt dizzy. “Why would you even consider this? I have no legal claim.”

  Aislinn slid her chair until we were facing each other. “I wish you could have seen Braedon before he met you. He dated plenty, but it was like he was just going through the motions. Even that first day when the ship was departing and we met you on the deck, I saw how he looked at you.” Her smile became sad. “He was so devastated when you wouldn’t see him. This is his money, and he would have wanted you to have it.”

  She took my hands in hers. “I’ve already been in touch with our attorney, and he’s working on it. In the meantime, we’ve opened an account in your name. You said last night you have some business to take care of before you decide what to do long term. Well, you’ve got the money to do it.”

  I didn’t know what to say.

  CHAPTER 26

  I BEGAN TO make plans, and it felt good to have purpose again Even though Elle and Aislinn repeated several times that they wanted me to stay, they also encouraged me to do what I felt was necessary.

  Aislinn and I spent the day before I left together, just the two of us. We went to Long Island, where she gave me a tour of Winterwood, her and Braedon’s childhood home. The name seemed appropriate, dressed as it was in winter snow. Though it was too cold to stay outside long, I had her show me her secret garden and the ghost path that had frightened Braedon as a boy.

  We went to lunch, and I told her everything I could think of that I hadn’t mentioned about the island. I tried to give her the two years with Braedon she had missed.

  “You’ll come back here, won’t you?” she asked as we drove back.

  “Everything’s so different from what Braedon and I planned.” I looked out my window, sliding my hand along the door. “Who knows? When I go back to the Springs I may decide I want to stay there after all ... but I doubt it.”

  She glanced over her shoulder and changed lanes. “You can live here. We’d love to have you close.”

  “I don’t know.” I rubbed my temple. “Let me do these visits before I decide anything.”

  Resigned, she asked, “Where are you going first?

  “Colorado Springs. And then Texas.”

  “Jimmy’s and Maria’s families?”

  I nodded.

  “Anywhere else?”

  I hesitated for a long moment. “Montana.”

  “To see my father?” Her eyes opened wide.

  “I want to meet him. I want to see the ranch Braedon loved so much.” I leaned the back of my head against the window and looked at her. “Did you know Braedon planned to move out west?”

  “Kate said something about that, but I thought she’d misunderstood him. They loved Braedon at Cornell, and I thought he enjoyed working there.”

  “He did love it, but he told me Cornell was never more than a place to get experience.” I shifted my gaze to the passing landscape. “He’d been considering the move even before your mother died, so he could be closer to your father. And then when we met ....” I squeezed my eyes shut.

  Aislinn put her hand over mine. “Just stay in touch, okay?”

  “I will.”

  THE NEXT morning, as we loaded my luggage into Aislinn’s car, Mal said from the doorway, “We’re going to have to come up with another plan.”

  I frowned. “Why?”

  “The press.” He grimaced.

  “But we went out yesterday with no problem.”

  Mal leaned against Aislinn’s car and folded his arms. “It’s funny how that works,” he reflected. “The more mysterious someone is, the more intrigued the press gets. It was a slow news day yesterday, and your story got attention again. They want to hear from you. Have I mentioned we got a call from a TV producer who wants to do a movie?”

  “What is wrong with these people?” I shouted, heat flushing through my body. “They just want to be entertained by our pain. It makes me sick!”

  Startled by my outburst, Mal straightened. He put a hand on my arm. “There’s some truth to that, but telling your story is also a way to let the public know about people you loved. You haven’t said a lot about Jimmy and Maria, but until you were found no one knew what happened to them either.”

  He hesitated and then spoke slowly, his voice firm. “You can’t talk to everyone who cared about them. Hearing about their last days might be part of the healing process for the friends you don’t visit. I know it’s all still too raw for you right now, but give it some time and think about it.”

  He twisted to regard D’Arcy, who had entered the garage. “I’ve talked to Mr. Statler down the street. He said he’d be glad to drive her to the airport.”

  That’s how I ended up riding to the airport wearing old Mr. Statler’s wife’s knitted cap, scarf, and coat. He had no idea who I was and talked all the way to the airport, which suited me just fine.

  IT WAS surreal to fly into Colorado Springs after so long, a very different return from the one Elle and I had planned three years earlier. Luckily, no one paid any attention to me. My story didn’t seem to be making headlines here, which was a pleasant surprise.

  Everything had a dreamlike quality as I drove through areas I should have recognized but didn’t. It reminded me of a mixed-up collage with pieces from my memories pasted on places I had never seen.

  I drove to the cemetery first. The plain headstone Marc had chosen fit the simple couple our parents had been. I knelt on the grave, despite the snow, and arranged the silk flowers I had brought with me.

  By the time I finished, my body shook with the cold, my toes numb. Stiff, I rose to my feet and stared at the grave. They were gone. Really gone.

  In the morning, I made a trip to the high school where I had taught. I didn’t go in but parked outside and watched the comings and goings. Life had moved on, and I wasn’t a part of the place anymore.

  Sitting in my motel room the second night, I tried to think who else I should visit in Colorado. I couldn’t think of anyone. It wasn’t my home anymore.

  I booked a flight to Houston, Texas for the next morning. Jimmy’s ranch was northwest of Sealy, and Maria’s home was in a small farming community close to Houston. I decided to hit Jimmy’s first.

  While I had the agent on the phone, I considered getting tickets to Montana, but memories of what Aislinn had said about her father held me back. The last thing I wanted to do was to cause him further grief. She and I had agreed if I decided to go, I would call her so she could let him know of my imminent arrival—imminent being the key word.

  CHAPTER 27

  SO AT the end of February, I flew into Houston. With the city close to the Gulf Coast, the milder weather was a relief after New York and Colorado. It seemed like Jimmy’s entire family waited for me as I pulled up the long drive to the white clapboard farmhouse.

  They prepared a huge meal for me, and we exchanged stories about him. When I reached the part where he was s
hot while fighting the pirates, I worried it would distress them. They thought it was heroic, however, and just the kind of thing Jimmy would have and should have done.

  When I pulled out my keys, Mrs. Hewitt jumped to her feet, replacing a flash of disappointment with a big grin. She followed me outside once I had hugged the others goodbye.

  Mrs. Hewitt embraced me, her eyes glistening. “Thank you so much for coming. The people from the cruise line could never tell us enough.” She breathed out a sigh. “With the four of you disappearing, well ... it’s just good to know. If a mother has to lose a son, it’s nice to know he went down fighting.”

  I drove away, surprised at how good I felt, and that night in the motel was free of dreams.

  The next day, I met with Maria’s grandmother, and that meeting was nothing like the one with Jimmy’s family. Maria’s parents hadn’t been a part of her life for several years, and her younger siblings had been divided up and sent to live with other family members. The grandmother I met had one grandchild with her, a sullen youth of about fifteen. When I introduced myself, he barely nodded and quickly left the room. The old woman spoke poor English, and I think she feared I wanted something from her.

  I was impressed that Maria had done so well coming from this home. It was a shame that of the three who had died, the only one I could report a burial place for didn’t have anyone who cared.

  Indecision still plagued me. While my need to do something had diminished, it was still there. I didn’t know where to go next, but I knew I wasn’t ready to return to New York. After a drive to Galveston and some time spent watching the open water of the Gulf of Mexico, I returned to the airport and got a flight to Montana.

  Landing in the cold weather of Great Falls, I shivered all the way to my motel room and cranked up the heater as soon as I arrived. After a shower, I crawled into bed, wishing I knew what to do. Knowing that Braedon’s favorite childhood home was so close felt like an itch I couldn’t scratch.

  It took me forever to fall asleep, and I dreamed I went to the ranch. In the dream, I drove up to the house, and Braedon stepped out of the front door to welcome me. The constant ache, the one that sometimes threatened to overwhelm me, disappeared, replaced by a sense of peace.

 

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