The Color of a Memory

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The Color of a Memory Page 15

by Julianne MacLean


  I didn’t know how to take that. Had they gone to kindergarten together or something?

  She inclined her head at me. “You do know who I am, right?”

  To her, I probably looked like a deer caught in the glare of car headlights as I shook my head, because I really knew nothing about this woman other than the fact that she worked as a waitress and had borne my husband’s child.

  Carla sat back in her chair and spoke bluntly, without hesitation. “I’m Alex’s half-sister,” she said. “We only found each other again the week before he died. Who did you think I was?”

  The room spun in circles as I struggled to comprehend what she’d just told me.

  Thank God David was sitting beside me, because I couldn’t seem to make my mouth work.

  Chapter Forty-nine

  “You’re Alex’s sister?” David replied.

  Carla nodded. “Half-sister. Oh, God, this is awkward. I’m not sure what’s going on here. I thought you knew that.”

  David and I looked at each other. “We had no idea,” he said. “Audrey found Kaleigh’s ultrasound photo in Alex’s car, and she assumed…” He stopped at that.

  Carla’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh my. Did you think I was having an affair with him? No, that’s not it at all. Oh, Audrey…”

  I covered my mouth with a hand. “I’m so sorry. I feel like an idiot.”

  She stared at me. “What made you think that?”

  How could I ever explain? How could I tell her that I had lost faith in my husband, and that as soon as the first opportunity arose to confirm my early doubts about him…it was enough to convince me he was a cheater?

  I felt ashamed, yet I understood why I wanted to believe this. Perhaps I needed a place to project my anger over losing him. Maybe a part of me felt it would be easier to believe he’d betrayed me—and to hate him—than to accept that I had lost such a perfect, wonderful man.

  “Everything pointed to that,” I told her, because it was true. The evidence had been compelling. “Just before he died he became withdrawn and I sensed something was off, and then when I found the picture in the car… Do you remember what you wrote on the back of it?”

  Carla shook her head.

  “You wrote: ‘I hope she has your good looks.’ And you drew a heart by your initial. Then we found an email from you that made it seem like he was going to leave us for you. It never occurred to me that it could be something else.” I looked down at Kaleigh who was now playing behind a pink-and-white dollhouse under the window. “So she’s Alex’s niece?”

  “That’s right,” Carla replied. “Half-niece.”

  Quietly I whispered, “Can I ask who her father is?”

  Carla also spoke in hushed tones. “That’s not a good story. He’s someone I dated briefly a while back. I was in love with him, but he walked out on me when he found out I was pregnant. He left town—quite some time ago—and I haven’t heard a word from him since. I was pregnant out to here when I reconnected with Alex.” She gestured with her arms, as if she were holding a basketball in front of her tummy.

  “I don’t understand,” I said. “Alex never mentioned a sister other than Sarah.”

  “That’s because he didn’t remember me,” she explained, “nor did I remember him—and this is the part he wanted to keep secret, because he wanted to protect his mom. She never knew her husband was seeing someone else. So there was an affair going on. It just wasn’t Alex, and it was many, many years ago.”

  I cupped my forehead in a hand. “I can’t believe it.”

  I was both relieved and saddened to learn that it was Jean’s husband who had been unfaithful. Alex had told me many times how deeply his mother loved his father and how long it had taken her to overcome the grief of losing him.

  “Alex and I were born about a year apart,” Carla explained, “and our father used to spend time with us together on Saturdays when we were both really young. That’s how I found Alex two years ago. I kept having these vague, foggy memories of riding in an antique car and going to the race track with a boy I believed was my brother. My mom died in a car crash when I was five and I was sent to live with my aunt in Pennsylvania. That’s when our father died, sometime after that, which is why I lost all contact with Alex. I was too young to investigate anything, and my aunt just swept everything under the rug, so to speak. So I just kind of buried it and went on about my life until recently, when I got pregnant. That’s when I started having the dreams about that old car, driving around in the back seat and eating ice cream. I couldn’t get the memories out of my head, so I went online looking for vintage cars and found a picture of one that looked exactly like what I remembered. It had a red pinstriped interior and a crystal knob on the gear shift at the steering wheel. I went into every chat room I could find and asked if anyone remembered going to the race track as a kid in an old Buick Street Rod.”

  “And Alex replied,” I said.

  Carla nodded. “He was just as confused as I was about those memories, because the way he remembered it, he thought he had gone to the track with his sister Sarah, but then he realized that she would have just been a baby then. He said he never really questioned it. He just thought his memory of it was hazy.”

  I recalled the day Alex and I sat in the Buick in his garage and he told me about those fond memories of his father taking him and his sister to the race track. I realized I hadn’t done the math either, because he’d told me his father died when he was seven, yet Sarah would have been only about six months old. I remember Alex telling me how he and his sister would run to the creek to catch frogs.

  “I don’t understand why he wanted to keep this a secret,” I said to Carla. “Why didn’t he tell me?”

  This was perhaps the most hurtful thing. Did he not trust me? Did he feel it would reflect badly on him if I learned that his father had been unfaithful?

  Carla rested her temple on a finger. “He was shocked to learn about his father’s affair, and he told me he needed time to figure out how to tell you and his mom. Actually, he was reluctant to ever tell his mother about it because he didn’t want to spoil her perfect memory of him.”

  As I listened to all of this, my heart broke at the thought that Alex died without resolving this situation.

  “Oh, Alex,” I whispered, bowing my head with regret for all my suspicions and feelings of anger over the past few weeks. How could I not have known? How could I not have trusted him to be the good husband and father he was—right up until the day he died? He had never cheated. He didn’t deserve my censure.

  Maybe that’s why he always had his back turned to me in my dreams. It was me who couldn’t see him for the true and honorable man that he was.

  David touched my shoulder. “Now you know,” he softly said.

  Needing to be held, I turned into his loving embrace.

  Chapter Fifty

  “Now the burning question is this…” I said to David as we drove home from Boston that evening. “Do I, or do I not, tell Jean?”

  David turned off the radio. “That’s a tough one. I’ve known Jean since I was in high school and there was always a sense that she never got over losing Alex’s dad. Their house was like a shrine with family pictures everywhere. I swear we all thought he was some sort of saint. But I remember Alex saying once that he wished his mom could move on, but it was like…a part of her had died, too.”

  “It certainly took her a long time to find someone,” I replied. “I’m just glad she’s happy now.”

  “Me, too. Garry’s a good guy.” David’s eyes met mine and I saw a hint of melancholy in them. “What about you, Audrey? Now that you know Alex wasn’t unfaithful, will you go on mourning, like Jean did?”

  I gazed out the window at the passing landscape and thought about the relief—and love—I’d felt in Carla’s apartment when I learned that Alex hadn’t been unfaithful to me, and that he’d struggled with the decision to tell me about his father’s infidelity because he was ashamed of it.

  How ea
sy it would be to idolize and cling to the memory of that integrity…

  I looked at David, whose gaze was fixed on the road ahead of us. Then I touched his arm and asked, “Do you remember when you showed me the email from Carla, and I said it felt like Alex died all over again?”

  David nodded.

  “I honestly did feel that way,” I continued, “and it brought everything back—the terrible heartache. Then today, when Carla told us she was his half-sister, I was ashamed of myself for doubting him, and all the love I felt for him came flooding back. It was as if he’d risen from the dead.”

  David took his eyes off the road for a few seconds to study my expression.

  “But all that joy came from my memory of him,” I explained. “I’m so glad now that it’s not tarnished, that he really was the best husband and father in the world, and I can talk about him to Wendy without trying to hide any bitterness. I know now that I was right to trust my instincts and marry him, and that I can do that again… I can take a leap of faith—because the greatest joy I ever had was with Alex. I want to love like that again.”

  I noticed David’s Adam’s apple bob; a muscle twitched at his jaw. Then he checked the rearview mirror, flicked the blinker and pulled over, nearly skidding onto the side of the road.

  My upper body jerked forward at the abrupt stop. David shifted the gears into park, leaned across the seat and pressed his mouth to mine with a passion that knocked me senseless and sent my head into a dizzying spin. I parted my lips and opened myself to a violent rush of emotion.

  He kissed me hard until the luscious damp pressure of his mouth caused a tingle of excitement in all the outer reaches of my body.

  My skin erupted in goose bumps, and when he drew back, I felt shaky all over. I was completely overwhelmed.

  “I can love you like that,” he said in a low, husky voice that caused my body to melt like butter. “I’ve loved you since the first day I saw you in the ER, and God, there were moments I hated Alex for being the one who broke his foot that day. I wanted it to be me.”

  My breath caught in my throat and my eyebrows lifted. “I didn’t know.”

  “Well, now you do,” he replied with a flirtatious glimmer in his eye that made me weak in the knees. Thank God I was sitting down.

  He kissed me again, then resumed his position in the driver’s seat and shifted back into first gear.

  “Let’s go home then,” he said with a manly confidence that turned every inch of my quivering body into a pile of sticky jelly, “and figure out where to go from here—and what in the world we’re going to tell Jean.”

  Chapter Fifty-one

  After a great deal more discussion, David helped me decide how to handle the Carla and Kaleigh situation with Jean, but first I needed to call Nadia and tell her the latest developments, because she’d been instrumental in helping me locate Carla.

  As I dialed Nadia’s number, I experienced a strange sensation of excitement, as if by telling her about my incredible day, I was also telling Alex, somehow by proxy. I knew that was crazy, but oh, how I wanted him to know that I’d found his half-sister. I also wanted him to know that I intended to make her a part of my life and Wendy’s.

  Without a shadow of a doubt, I knew he would be pleased to hear it.

  If only he could have known before he passed.

  Nadia’s phone rang three times before she picked up. “Hello?”

  “Hi Nadia. It’s Audrey.”

  She greeted me warmly and asked how the day had gone. “Did you meet her?”

  “Yes,” I told her, “and it turned out totally different from what I expected. You’re not going to believe this.”

  Nadia was quick to reply. “Tell me.”

  I paused—just for dramatic effect. “Carla Matthews was Alex’s half-sister.”

  The news was met with silence, then Nadia exhaled. “Wow. He never told you about her?”

  “He didn’t even know,” I explained. “Not until the week before he died. He did once tell me about his vague memories of going to the race track in the Buick with his sister when he was really young, but he thought it was Sarah. Turns out it wasn’t. It was Carla.”

  The clock ticked ominously on the wall beside me.

  “Does that mean his father cheated on Jean?” Nadia asked.

  I sank onto one of the kitchen chairs. “Yes, and that’s the difficult part. It’s why Alex was so secretive. He didn’t want his mom to know about Carla. He was very protective of her. He was a good man, Nadia. The very best. Remember when I told you in the playground that he had a good heart? He did. There can be no doubt about that now.”

  I heard the smile in Nadia’s voice. “I’m so happy to hear it. I’m happy for both of us.”

  “Me, too. On that note, can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure.”

  “Would you like to meet Carla? Because if you want to, when we come to your place Saturday, we could bring her and Kaleigh. I know she’d love to meet you.”

  Nadia didn’t hesitate. “That’s a great idea. Our three girls will have a blast on the new play structure. But there’s only one problem.”

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “I’ve already invited Jean,” Nadia replied, “so things could get awkward.”

  I stood up to make some tea. “Yes, they could. I guess I need to give her a call.”

  “What will you tell her?” Nadia asked.

  I wished I could answer the question, but I still wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do. Jean’s husband’s affair was in the past now. He’d been dead for years. Was she better off not knowing? Or was it more important that she have some contact with her late son’s niece and half-sister?

  Most importantly, what would Alex have wanted?

  “I’m not sure yet,” I replied, “but I’ll let you know before Saturday.

  We hung up so I could dial Jean’s number.

  Chapter Fifty-two

  The following morning, I pulled into Jean’s driveway and turned off the car.

  David wasn’t scheduled to work that day so he volunteered to watch Wendy so I could have some time alone with Jean.

  “Come on in,” she said cheerfully as she opened the door. “I just made us some carrot muffins.”

  “Mmm, they smell delicious,” I replied as I crossed the threshold and followed her to the kitchen.

  Planting myself at the breakfast bar, I reveled in the aroma of hot muffins straight out of the oven. Jean set a plate in front of me and slid the butter dish closer. “Coffee?”

  “I’d love some,” I replied as I reached for a warm muffin and peeled back the paper.

  A moment later we were both seated. She gently asked how I was getting along—as if I was the one who needed help and comfort. I regretted that it wouldn’t be long before the shoe would be on the other foot.

  “Actually, there’s something I want to talk to you about,” I said. “It’s about Alex, sort of.”

  Her expression clouded over with concern. “What is it, Audrey?”

  I had thought long and hard about this decision—whether or not to tell Jean about Carla and Kaleigh—and it was vitally important to me that I respect Alex’s wishes. But now that he was gone, how could I know—how could anyone know—what he truly would have wanted?

  In the end, I chose to follow to my heart, to trust that I knew the man he was deep down—just like I did on the bridge that day when he dropped to one knee before me and proposed. I’d said yes because I loved him and I believed we were meant to be together, and it turned out I was right to put all my faith in him. Now it was time to put my faith in my own heart and intuition.

  Setting down my butter knife, I leaned back on the white leather stool. “It’s something I’ve been keeping from you for a little while, and I’m sorry about that. It started a few weeks ago when I was here for the two-year anniversary of Alex’s death. Remember when I went out to sit in the Buick and didn’t come back for a long time? Then I left abruptl
y?”

  “Of course I remember.”

  I dropped my gaze to the granite countertop of the breakfast bar and blinked a few times, fighting to gather the right words.

  “I found something in the glove box of the car that day. It was an ultrasound of a baby, and there was a note to Alex on the back that suggested the child belonged to him. Ever since then, I thought maybe he’d been having an affair before he died, but it turns out he wasn’t.”

  Jean blinked a few times, then sat back in shock. “Well, thank God for that.”

  I nodded. “I agree. I was relieved to find out he wasn’t cheating on me…but that’s where it gets complicated.” I paused for a moment, then met her gaze directly. “The woman who was pregnant—the one who’d had the ultrasound… She was related to Alex.”

  I stopped before going any further because I couldn’t bring myself to be blunt. I didn’t want to hurt Jean. I had no idea how to tell her the truth, but I knew I had to.

  She stared at me intently. “How do you mean…related?”

  I breathed deeply and let it out. “The woman was his half-sister.”

  While I gave Jean a few seconds to make sense of what I was trying to tell her, I began to perspire heavily. I shrugged out of my sweater and let it drape on the back of the chair, then wiped my forehead with the back of a hand.

  “Was her name Carla?” Jean asked.

  My lips parted in surprise. “Yes. It was.” I felt my eyebrows pull together in dismay. “Did you know about her?”

  Jean slowly nodded. “I certainly knew who her mother was. William tried to keep it from me, of course, but I knew. A wife always knows.”

  “But you forgave him?”

  Her hesitation surprised me, and she shrugged. “Not really, but I did my best to keep everything together. For Alex and Sarah.”

  A puff of air sailed out of my lungs. “But everyone thought you worshipped Alex’s father. Alex thought that was the reason you didn’t remarry for such a long time… Because you couldn’t get over the loss of him.”

 

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