She signaled for the boy to come closer, then dug through her purse and produced two dimes. “Here you are,” she said in a hush.
He gave a nod and slipped the money into the pocket of his trousers. His gaze darted around before he asked quietly, “You is Vivian, ain’t ya?”
“Why–yes. But, how did you–”
“This here’s for you.” He handed her an envelope from the inside of his hat, folded in half, edges curled over.
“What is this? Who is it from?”
“Some fella in the alley. Gave me a whole dollar to deliver it right to ya.”
A dollar would be a fortune for the child. She unfolded the envelope to examine both sides. It bore not a single marking.
“How did the man know I’d be-” She looked up and found the child halfway through the courtyard. Thoughts swimming, she tore open the casing and pulled out a note. The handwriting, printed in block letters, had a messiness that appeared rushed.
VIVIAN,
MEET ME TONIGHT ON BINNEN BRIDGE AT 10.
TELL NO ONE. COME ALONE.
ISAAK
Her chest cinched. An ancient grip squeezed out her air, the hand of a ghost reaching from the soil. It wasn’t possible. Isaak was gone.
Or was he?
She snapped her head up to locate the messenger, now out of view. Whoever had employed the boy-she needed his description.
Vivian sped through the courtyard and out to the sidewalk. Her gaze combed the area in frantic sweeps, from cars to shops to alleys, but the child had evaporated like mist. He left no proof of existence. Save for the missive in her hand.
29
A half hour later Audra sat alone on a stranger’s couch, the slip of an address still in her grip. Upon arriving she’d barely said hello when Judith’s aunt ushered her inside. The compact lady with silver-blond curls introduced herself as Luanne, the sister of Judith’s father, Gene.
“Go on and make yourself at home. I’ll let Sean know you’re here,” Luanne had said, her smile as warm as the eyes behind her glasses. Then she shuffled out the front door.
Perhaps Sean was helping out in the barn. Audra had passed the brown wooden structure when coming up the drive. Two donkeys were grazing in a fenced-in field. The whole property looked to be two or three acres with trees scattered like freckles.
Only after parking did she pause to wonder what the heck she was doing here.
Skirting the thought, Audra scanned the cozy living room. The interior of the house conformed to the charm of its powder-blue exterior. Porcelain collectibles and framed photos sat on end table doilies. Cookbooks and craft books filled shelves flanking the fireplace. Hunched in the corner was a floor model radio, like Rip van Winkle in a decades-long sleep.
A song rang out from the mantel clock. “Westminster Chimes” marked the one o’clock hour.
She and Tess would usually be on lunch break. By now, at a restaurant near the clinic, they’d have devoured a veggie bento or spinach-and-cheese crepe. Already Audra missed their routine. More than that, she missed her regular clients and the animals she had treated and saved. And now another vet had taken her place. Just like that. Nothing to it. Wham-bam, you’re hired.
“Stop it,” she muttered to herself. “You’re the one who quit.”
“Audra?”
She flew to her feet and turned as Sean entered the house, his great-aunt right behind.
“Sean. Hi.”
“Hi . . .”
Audra couldn’t tell if his curious tone came from questioning her monologue or from surprise over her presence. Based on his scruffy jaw, wrinkled T-shirt, and dusty jeans, she went with the latter.
“I hope I’m not bothering you. At the gallery, your mom told me I should stop by. That she’d tell you I was coming.”
Luanne patted Sean’s arm. “Oh, dear, that’s my fault. Your mother did phone, but I didn’t realize your friend would be here so soon.” She shifted her attention to Audra. “I’m afraid I don’t move as fast as I used to.”
“Neither do I,” Audra assured her.
Luanne smiled. “Well, I’ll put some water on for tea. Better yet, I could make some hot cocoa if you’d like.”
Audra suddenly felt like she was younger than Jack. “Sounds delicious.”
“Sean?”
“Huh? Uh, yeah. Thanks.”
Luanne winked at Audra and padded through the dining room, presumably on to the kitchen. The quiet left behind was the type that followed a shove off a cliff.
He gestured to the couch with the pair of work gloves in his hand. “Want to sit down?”
Audra nodded and reclaimed her seat. She stored the address in her jeans pocket to prevent fiddling with the paper. As Sean settled on the sofa chair, he set the gloves down and briskly smoothed his hair, appearing to realize his tousled state.
She thought of their last encounter, how she’d all but slammed the door in his face. An apology seemed in order. “I’m sorry I—,” she began, just as Sean began to talk. They both stopped short.
“You go,” they said, again in chorus, which caused them to laugh. A crack spread through the tension, loosening the air.
She tried again. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry if I was rude to you before.”
“It’s okay. It was my fault. I must have seemed like a crazy stalker hunting you down.”
“No. Not at all.” It didn’t seem necessary to point out how they paralleled in this respect. “From what your mom said, about what you’ve been through, I can understand why you wanted to find us.”
Now who was the scary one? It sounded like Audra was interviewing his relatives.
“I only talked to her, by the way, because I went to her home first.” That didn’t sound any better. “The address listed online was under your name, but a guy at the building said it was hers, and he told me about her gallery. I went, since it was close by. Otherwise, I really wouldn’t have bothered her....”
Sean laughed softly, making clear she was rambling.
“And,” she said, “I’m going to quit now.”
“No worries. It makes sense. I used her address for forwarding while I was away, after I sold my condo.”
“Oh, sure. Of course,” Audra said.
Chimes again rang from the clock, snapping her back to her mission. She had come to uncover answers, not for a leisurely chat.
“Sean, the reason I’m here is about my son—Jack. The German phrase you quoted, when you came to see me—”
He shook his head, lowering his gaze. “Look, you were right. If you’re saying we’d never met, I obviously just misheard.”
How many hours had the guy spent evaluating the lunacy of his claim, that a little boy, a stranger, had somehow memorized the foreign engraving on his necklace?
Straightening, Audra rephrased. “I really need to know what that adage means.”
A question knitted his brow.
“Please,” she said. “It’s important.”
Though hesitant, Sean nodded. He pulled out the charm from his shirt, a show of proof to eliminate speculation. “Viel Feind, viel Ehr,” he said, just as he had before. “A friend of mine works with a guy from Hamburg. Told me it’s basically: ‘The greater the risk, the greater the reward.’ ”
Audra realized, right then, she had no idea what she’d expected.
“The literal translation,” he went on, “is a little different. From what I could gather, it means ‘Many enemies, much honor.’ ”
Enemies.
Like Nazis in electric chairs.
“Do you mind if I ask where you got the necklace?”
“It belonged to my late grandma,” he said. “My mom’s mom, Vivian. I found it while going through Aunt Lu’s basement. I was making room for my things to keep here during my tour. I’m pretty sure of that anyway. I have some flashes of it in my head. Other than that, all I know is I was wearing it when I woke up in the hospital in Kabul.”
He gave the charm a wry glance and shrugg
ed. “I must’ve figured if it survived a world war in one piece, it might help me make it too. Now I just wear it, hoping it will spark more memories, I suppose.”
Audra nodded along, though her mind had latched on to two words. “When you say ‘world war,’ I assume you’re talking about . . .”
“World War Two,” he said, placing the necklace back under his shirt. “It may be older though. I’m not sure.”
“So, your grandma was German?”
“Not that I know of . . . but I’m guessing the man who gave it to her must have been.”
“You mean, it wasn’t from your grandfather?”
“Nah. It seemed like a first love kind of thing, years before they got married.”
A name suddenly drummed in Audra’s head. It pounded in her ears like a caller who refused to leave until someone opened the door. “Was the other guy—was he Jakob Hemel?”
Sean studied her as if deciphering where this was headed. “Don’t think so.”
“Are you certain?”
“It was more like . . . Isaiah. Or Isaac, I think . . . but with a k.”
Relief swept through her, colliding with an illogical surge of disappointment—all of which ceased when he added, “The necklace came with a letter from him—that’s how I figured it was wartime. But I haven’t looked at it in a while.”
It was a clue. Or another element to eliminate. Either way, she needed to read what the man had written.
“Is there any chance I could see the letter?” she asked.
Sean paused, his expression clouding. He had complied long enough without knowing her purpose. Tit for tat, it was her turn to share.
A kettle whistled from the kitchen. Luanne would be joining them soon. If her views were anything like Meredith’s, the whole conversation could end just as poorly. There was no time to waste.
“The thing is,” Audra said, “I’m not sure you misheard my son.”
At this, Sean looked dubious. But then he leaned forward, hands clasped, elbows on his legs. She had forgotten about his hearing.
She controlled her pace, despite a desire to speed through. “Everything started a month ago. See, Jack’s always had a fascination with planes, so I thought he’d love riding on one for a trip to Philadelphia. But then we took off....”
Sean listened intently as she stuck to the relevant highlights. He gave no impression of the need to find a straightjacket. In fact, his topaz eyes conveyed genuine interest that paved the way for her summary to flow.
Audra had just finished when Luanne entered the room with a tray of steaming mugs, cheese slices, and animal crackers.
“I wasn’t sure if you wanted marshmallows, dear, but I took the liberty of adding them. I hope you don’t mind.”
“It’s perfect,” Audra replied. “Thank you.”
Luanne distributed the drinks and parked the tray. She eased herself onto the far end of the couch, where she took several sips. Audra blew on the surface of her cocoa, aware of Sean’s distracted state.
“I’m sorry,” Luanne said. “Did I interrupt something?”
“No,” Sean said abruptly, as if coming to. “We were just talking about Audra’s son. It’s ‘Jack,’ isn’t it?”
Audra looked at him, afraid he was about to request she repeat the whole story. “That’s right. It’s Jack.”
“He sounds like a great kid,” Sean said.
“Yeah. He’s ... amazing.”
Sean gave a small, rigid shake of his head—Don’t say anything more—and drank his hot chocolate. Grateful, Audra did the same.
“So you’re married, then?” Luanne said with a tinge of disappointment.
“Actually, I’m not anymore.”
“Oh, I see.”
This was Audra’s standard for the topic: let the answer hang there, let people assume what they’d like. Divorce was the natural assumption, given current statistics, and one that didn’t create an awkward exchange, a dutiful condolence over someone they had never met.
But for some odd reason, the words spilled out of her. “My husband died two years ago.”
“Ahh, yes.” Luanne lowered her mug, held with both hands. “I’m sorry to hear that.” There was no discomfort in her tone, no pity in her face. Just an empathy that, in an instant, explained why she lived alone. No wonder Sean had taken up residence on the farm, even temporarily, providing help as well as company.
All the same, Audra had said enough. She downed more of her drink and observed the clock. “Gosh, it’s getting late. I should probably get going.”
“Already?” Luanne asked.
“I’m afraid so. Jack will be home from school soon.” Audra set her mug aside as Luanne nodded in understanding.
“Whereabouts do you live, dear?”
“Just down in West Linn. We’re staying at the Forest Side Apartments, but only until—” Once again she was sharing too much with the woman. “Until we find something permanent,” she finished while standing up. “I’m sorry I can’t stay longer.”
“Here, I’ll walk you out,” Sean said.
Luanne waggled a finger at Audra. “Be sure to grab some eggs in the barn. We only have three chickens, but those fine ladies have fully honed their craft.”
Audra laughed. “I appreciate that, but I’d hate to risk missing the bus.”
“How about a rain check?”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
Sean escorted Audra into the serene landscape. The donkeys were still chomping away, a goat now too, and birds trilled from the branches of an apple tree. It was refreshing to see animals so happy and healthy and out of cages.
“I can definitely understand why you’re staying here,” she said. “It’s nice. Really nice.”
“My mom doesn’t agree though. Right?”
Audra shrugged, not wanting to cause problems. “I think she’s just concerned about you.”
“Yeah.” He gazed off as they walked. “I know.”
“Well, maybe ...” She stopped herself. Why was she acting like an old family friend? And who was she, of all people, to dole out a map for the road to recovery? “Never mind,” she said, and smiled as they reached the car.
“Hey, I almost forgot,” Sean said. “I’d be happy to show you the letter if it’ll help, and anything else I come across. Might take a couple days. I’d have to figure out which box it’s in.”
“That’d be wonderful. Thanks.” She climbed into her seat and glanced back at the house. “Also, thank you for not saying anything to Luanne. I know how hokey it all sounds.”
“No worries. It’s not a time in history she likes to talk about anyway. Dredges up a lot of tough memories.”
Audra should have realized the detour wasn’t only for her. The woman could have lost her husband, or any number of loved ones, during a period of such massive tragedy.
Sean went to close the car door as Audra noted her oversight. “Wait. Should I write down my phone number?”
He tightened his lips to squelch a smile, suggesting he’d already found it on his own.
At the red light two blocks from her apartment, the cell phone buzzed in her purse. Audra felt a flutter of excitement before reminding herself that he wouldn’t call this soon.
As she scrounged for her phone, she thought of another person. Meredith. They hadn’t spoken since the party three days ago. Audra couldn’t blame her entirely for questioning Jack’s bruises, his cast, his not remembering how they happened. Still, Audra looked forward to her mother-in-law’s call of apology.
Those hopes fizzled from the name on the screen.
Audra answered on speakerphone. “Hi, Tess.”
“Where have you been all day? I left messages on both of your phones. You know you’re not allowed to have a social life without me.”
“Sorry. I had some things to take care of.” The light turned green, prompting Audra forward.
“Things, huh? That sounds cryptic.” Tess barely paused before pressing, “And?”
“And ... it was nothing. I was just out . . . seeing this guy . . .” Audra didn’t know how to continue unless she told her friend everything.
Tess gasped. “You’re seeing someone?”
“What? No. That’s—no.”
“Oh, my word. I can’t believe you’ve been holding out on me. Who is he?”
“Nobody.”
“Nobody, my tush.” The woman even cursed like a perfect mother. “Don’t make me skip my appointments to go find you.”
Audra tried to argue, but a laugh escaped instead. The whole idea was ridiculous. Besides, in two months, barring a horrible twist, she and Jack would be moving to Boston.
“Seriously, Tess. I’m not dating anyone.”
“In that case, who is this guy you’re not dating?” Tess clamped down like a pit bull.
Audra fended off the inquisition as she steered through the parking lot and into her spot. “I’ve got to meet Jack at the bus stop. I’ll call you later.”
In the midst of her friend’s objection, Audra hung up and laughed again. She couldn’t recall the last time she had enjoyed her day this much.
She hopped out and headed for the apartment. The yellow transport would be rolling up soon. She could sort through the mail, even pay bills, while she waited.
“Are you Audra Hughes?” A lean man in a navy windbreaker stepped away from her door.
“Can I help you?”
“Are you Audra Hughes?” he repeated as if robotically programmed.
“Yes. Who are you?”
He handed her a thin packet of papers and walked away.
“Hold on a second. What is this?”
He straddled his motorcycle, threw on a helmet, and started the engine. As he zoomed away, Audra regarded the document.
IN THE CIRCUIT COURT OF THE STATE OF OREGON
“A summons?” she read.
She skimmed the pages, first not understanding, then in disbelief. Every word was a brick, every line a steel beam. Yet she continued on to the end. As comprehension bore down, her arms nearly gave out.
Meredith and Robert had filed a petition.
The Pieces We Keep Page 18