Blood Wounds

by Susan Beth Pfeffer

  "Did you know?" Jack asked, looking at his daughters. "Did either of you know Willa was hurting herself ?"

  "They didn't know anything," I said. "That's why I cut. So no one would know anything."

  We all heard my cell ring. "I'm taking it," I said, even though there was a rule that we never left supper for a phone call. I walked out of the dining room so I could talk in private.

  "Willa? It's Trace."

  "Yes," I said. "I know."

  "I spoke to that lawyer of yours," he said. "I guess you told him to?"

  "I called him this afternoon," I said.

  "I didn't know if I should thank you or sue you," Trace said. "He said I could do one or the other, but not both."

  "Have you decided?" I asked. "I mean, about suing me."

  "Well, the way I see it, the law's never been on my side," Trace said. "Besides, I've gone through every inch of this house, and the only thing I found was twelve bucks and forty-one cents in Kelli Marie's piggy bank. I was going to split it with you."

  "You can have it all," I said.

  "Don't mind if I do," Trace said. "Look, there's another reason I called. The rent's coming due here in a few days, and I don't see much point sticking around. I got Budge's guitar. I got the twelve bucks. I guess I'll be taking off for Nashville next week."

  "You'll stay in touch, won't you?" I asked. "I don't want to lose you, Trace."

  "I don't get lost that easy," Trace said. "I'm a bad penny. I always turn up. Anyway, they sent Budge's ashes back home, and Granny Coffey's threatening to throw them in the trash. I thought maybe we should bury them or something. Have a little service. Not like Crystal and the girls. I don't know any church would have him."

  "We could scatter his ashes," I said. "If you know someplace he might like."

  "He loved the woods," Trace said. "I think you should come down, Willa. I know you don't remember him, and he was an evil sonavabitch, but he was our daddy, and it's right for us to be there."

  I felt myself back in the basement, holding on to the razorblade, feeling Budge's rage, his insanity. I needed to see him blow away. "Yes," I said. "I'll be there."

  "Good," Trace said. "Give us a chance to say goodbye. And Willa..."

  "Yes?" I said.

  "Thank you."

  I walked back to the dining room, feeling everyone's eyes on me.

  "That was Trace," I said. "He has Budge's ashes. We're going to scatter them in the woods. I'll fly down on Friday. Sam said he could give me a small advance on the money if I needed it."

  "There's no talking you out of it?" Jack asked. "Accepting the insurance?"

  I shook my head. "I'm sorry," I said. "I'll understand if you don't want to be my father anymore."

  "No," Jack said. "Of course I'm your father. I'll always be your father. If you doubt that, Willa, then I really have failed you. I'm sorry." He paused for a moment, then turned to Mom. "We have to go with her," he said. "Back to Pryor. You know that, don't you, Terri? We've asked Willa to do too much alone as it is."

  "I don't know," Mom said. "It scares me to go back. It scares me to think about Budge, my time with him."

  "It scares me too, Mom," I said. "But he was my father, and I've got to see this through."

  "I want to go too," Alyssa said.

  We stared at her.

  "No, I mean it," she said. "Daddy's always talking about us being a family. Well, families do stuff together. Like go to funerals."

  "You have your tournament," I said. "I'd never ask you to give that up."

  "You didn't," Alyssa said. "This was my idea. I'm going with you."

  "I'll go also," Brooke said. "What's another dressage test in my life? You're my sister. This is a lot more important."

  "You can't just change your plans like this," Mom said. "Your grandparents are flying in. Your mother expects to see you in Brussels."

  Brooke looked thoughtful. "The service will be Saturday," she said. "Grandy and Gram can fly in to Dallas. We'll meet them there Sunday and fly to Brussels from there. You'll be tired, Lyss, for the first day of play, but you'll get there on time."

  "Willa can come too," Alyssa said, turning to me. "You can afford it now. Fly to Brussels with us, and then go to Madrid to see Lauren, and come back in time for the quarterfinals. I'll still be playing, I promise."

  For a moment, I was tempted. I would have loved to see Lauren, and now I was sure she'd be glad to see me. This was exactly the sort of trip I'd seen Brooke and Alyssa take whenever they wanted. And Alyssa was right. For the first time in my life, I had the money to indulge myself.

  I'm not sure whether it was remembering what Pastor Hendrick had said about temptations, or sensing what Jack must be thinking, or simply reminding myself where the money had come from. Maybe it was all of that.

  "I don't think so," I said to Alyssa with a smile. "It sounds like a lot of money, but there's an awful lot I need to do with it. Besides, I'd rather save up and see you at Wimbledon."

  "Then it's settled," Brooke said. "I'll call Gram right now and tell her. Then I'll make the plane reservations. Terri? You are coming with us, aren't you?"

  "Mom?" I said. "Not for Budge. For me."

  Mom took a deep breath. "For you," she said. "For me. For all of us."

  Thirty-Two

  IT WAS A DAMP GRAY DAY, but there was a gentle spring breeze that spoke of better times.

  After breakfast, Mom, Jack, and I had gone to the Penderses' gravesite. Curt and Pauline had sent a dozen white tulips, and I put one on each of the brothers and sisters Mom had never known, and one for her mother and father.

  Then I read Mom the e-mail I'd gotten from Martin. And for Mom and me, one last piece of our missing family was restored.

  Faye had taken Brooke and Alyssa to the spot in the woods Trace had selected. Mom knew exactly where it was, and we had no trouble finding them.

  Trace was already there, with Granny Coffey. Sam had come also. And so had Pastor Hendrick.

  "It's good of you to be here," Jack said to him.

  "He was a member of my flock," Pastor Hendrick replied. "And he's in my prayers."

  "I can't forgive him," Mom said. "I'll never be able to."

  "No one expects you to," Pastor Hendrick said. "But for all his evil, Dwayne is Willa's father, and Trace's and Kelli Marie's and Kadi's and Krissi's. There must have been some good in him to father such beautiful children."

  "His momma was trash," Granny Coffey said. "And his daddy was weak. Budge was trouble from the day he was born till the day he died. Never thought I'd outlive him, though. I buried my only son, and three of my great-grandbabies, and now this." She spat contemptuously. "Well, get on with it," she said. "Dust to dust. Ashes to ashes. This was your idea, boy. No point dawdling."

  "I think we should have some kind of prayer," Trace said. "I know the Lord's Prayer. Maybe we should say that."

  Pastor Hendrick began the prayer and we all joined in. In the distance a deer paused, then, seeing us, ran on.

  Trace opened the box and scattered the ashes onto the forest floor. "I love you, Daddy," he said.

  Those were words I could barely remember saying, would never say again. Like Mom, I didn't know that I'd ever forgive him.

  Still, I placed the white tulips over Budge's ashes. Then, surrounded by my family, my friends, and with the sweet cry of meadowlarks as a choir, I gave the gift of song to my fathers.