About Face

by V. K. Powell

As they ascended the stairs, Susan turned to Leigh. “I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

  “Nah, you’re probably right.” Alone with her mother again, Leigh was suddenly at a loss. She’d considered talking to her, but this didn’t really seem like the right time. Would there ever be one? There was only one way to find out. Hopefully Hedy and Macy were right about Susan having a different perspective on the past. “Susan…”

  “Yes?”

  Her throat tightened and she wasn’t sure she could speak. She remembered the times she’d pleaded with Susan and been ignored or had her concerns discounted. How could this woman reduce her emotionally to a prepubescent girl?

  “How about a cup of coffee? It’s a beautiful afternoon. We could sit on the deck and enjoy the spring air.”

  When they’d settled with their coffees, Leigh stared out across the yard, touched again by what a nice, homey place Susan had, unlike the dives they’d inhabited during her childhood. They sat in silence for several minutes until Susan spoke.

  “I don’t expect you to say anything, Leigh. I’d really just like you to listen, if you will.”

  Leigh clutched her coffee mug as if it would keep her from bolting and nodded.

  “Thank you.” Susan took a sip of coffee, and her hand shook so badly some of it sloshed over the rim of her cup. “Sorry. I’m really nervous.”

  She’d never seen her mother nervous to the point of clumsiness. She’d always been detached and totally controlled. The slip in composure would’ve been endearing in anyone else, but from Susan it seemed like a ploy.

  “When your father…died…” Her voice cracked and she swallowed hard. “I was devastated and—”

  “You didn’t act devastated.” The words leapt out quickly and her acidic tone sounded harsh. Her mother recoiled and guilt rushed through Leigh. “I’m sorry. I said I’d listen. Reflex, I guess. His death just didn’t seem to affect you at all.”

  “You have a right to be angry, honey, but I assure you, it did. Your father was the love of my life, my soul mate. When he died, I wasn’t sure I could go on. I considered…well, you don’t need to hear that…but I had two children to think about.”

  “It didn’t feel like you thought about us at all.”

  “I know it must’ve seemed that way to you, but I had to work to keep us together and to keep myself from going crazy with grief.”

  Her mother definitely hadn’t been around much, but she’d always equated that with the men in her life. “What about those guys? If you loved my father so much, how could you…?”

  “It was always about providing for you and Hedy. If I remarried I’d be able to stay home and take care of you, but after your father, I only attracted leeches and criminals.”

  “But three more husbands, Susan. Really?”

  “I was desperate to get us out of public housing. That’s no environment to raise children in, especially girls.”

  Susan sounded sincere and something inside Leigh wanted to believe her, but was it already too late? “What happened to the other three husbands?”

  “I left the first two. Do you really want to hear this? It’s not a pretty story. Suffice it to say they weren’t good husbands or fathers.”

  “And the last one?”

  Susan looked at her for the first time, and it was like seeing herself in a mirror twenty years later. Her emerald eyes had lost the spark of youth and hope for the future. Her copper hair was sprinkled with gray, as if each decision she’d made in life had left a trail. “Edwin Bryce was a good man and I stayed with him until he died. When he came along, Hedy was already in high school and you’d moved out. Most of the damage of my poor parenting had already been done.” Before now, Susan had never conceded she’d made mistakes bringing up her children. She couldn’t fake the sadness in her eyes.

  The hard lump in Leigh’s chest began to dissolve. “I know this is petty, but I have to ask. Remember the time I was sick and asked to stay home from school, but you made me go anyway? You said Hedy shouldn’t walk alone.”

  Susan’s eyes filled with tears. “Sending you off when you were sick was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I wanted to stay home and take care of you, but they were threatening to evict us if I missed one more payment, and I was already working two jobs. I couldn’t leave you alone with husband number two. I didn’t trust him.”

  “Why not?”

  Looking down at her coffee mug, Susan seemed to be contemplating whether to answer. “Is that really important?”

  “It is to me. In my mind that memory proved you really didn’t care about me, even when I was sick.”

  “Oh, Leigh. You and Hedy were all I ever cared about after your father died. And you’ve grown into such amazing women, in spite of my failures. How have you both become so open and loving and successful when I was such a horrible example?”

  She didn’t remember getting compliments from her mother as a child, but it felt good to have her accomplishments recognized. “We’ve always been close, maybe that helped. Now, about husband number two?”

  “I see why you’re such a good detective.” She fiddled with the hem of her blouse before finally answering. “He hit me, and I was afraid he’d do the same to you…or worse.”

  “Why did you stay with him?”

  “I didn’t. When it happened the first time, I told him I was leaving. It was perfect really, gave me the out I needed, but it took a few weeks to get the necessary paperwork through the system. In the meantime, I couldn’t risk him hurting either of you.”

  The last stronghold of anger inside her collapsed. How many families had been torn apart or forever altered by domestic violence? She’d had no idea it existed in her home—a testament to her mother’s strength and courage. “And then you met Edwin Bryce.”

  “Yes, too little too late for my children, but he provided a stable life for me.”

  “Good for you.”

  Susan placed her hand on top of Leigh’s where it rested on the arm of her chair. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you. That’s my greatest failure in life. I hope you can forgive me someday. I know it’ll take time.”

  She was saved from answering when the doorbell sounded and Susan excused herself. Leigh followed her into the kitchen for more coffee, still reeling from their chat. She needed time to process what she’d heard and maybe talk with Hedy. She and Susan had kept in closer contact and Hedy might be able to provide more insight, now that she was willing to listen. When Susan returned, Pam and Macy were with her. “Macy…what are you doing here?”

  “Not glad to see me then?”

  “Of course I’m glad to see you. It’s just a surprise…a good one. Macy, this is Susan Bryce…my mother.” It was the first time she’d introduced Susan as her mother, and it felt strangely satisfying. “Susan, this is Pam Wilkinson from CFS.” She turned to Macy and placed her hand protectively in the small of her back. “And this is Macy Sheridan, my…I’m not quite sure what we are at the moment, but—”

  “Jack and I are ready to talk now.” Karla and Jack entered the kitchen and stopped short.

  Macy paled and looked as though she might pass out. Leigh pulled her closer. “Are you all right? What’s wrong?”

  Macy pointed. “J…Jesse…”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Macy’s knees trembled as she stood in Susan Bryce’s kitchen staring at the woman she’d thought was dead for sixteen years. She felt faint. Maybe she was hallucinating. She’d finally decided to move on, to tell Leigh she loved her, and now this apparition appeared to remind her of what she’d left undone.

  “Macy?” The apparition spoke.

  “Jesse. It can’t be. You’re…”

  “I’m right here.”

  Jesse moved toward her and she stepped back. “Not possible.” But those crystal blue eyes, though ringed by dark circles and bloodshot from worry, were distinctive. She’d sketched those eyes so many times it was impossible to mistake them for anyone else’s. “How?”

&n
bsp; Jesse inched slowly closer until she stood within arm’s length. “Can I hug you, please? I’ve missed you so much.” Without waiting for a response, Jesse hugged her gently, as though afraid she might break. “I’ve thought about you every day since that night.”

  This wasn’t happening. “Really? Then why haven’t I heard from you in sixteen years? Why didn’t you call? Send a note? Something? Do you have any idea what I’ve been through, thinking you were…dead?” Tears streamed down her face, and her heart pounded as fiercely as it had the night Jesse disappeared.

  “I couldn’t contact you, honey.”

  They rocked in each other’s arms and she lost track of time, place, and everyone else in the room. She and Jesse were together, as they’d been so many times as teenagers. Life was as it should be again.

  “It’s okay, Macy. I’m here now,” Jesse said.

  When Jesse finally backed away, Macy thumbed the tears from her cheeks, memorizing the face she hadn’t been able to portray on paper. Jesse’s eyes were the same, but her features had matured into those of a beautiful woman. Her flashy blond hair had started to prematurely gray, but her small frame was still slender and fit, and she spoke with the same reassuring tone she’d used when trying to lure her into another hair-brained teenage adventure.

  Macy blinked to clear her tears and to be certain her best friend was really standing in front of her. But why was she here? How could she be here? Where had she been? Once the questions started, they wouldn’t stop. “Jesse, I—”

  “I know you have a lot of questions, and I’ll answer every one as soon as I can.” Jesse turned toward the other people in the room, who’d moved to the far side of the kitchen. “But first, I need Detective Monroe to do something for me.”

  Hearing Jesse speak Leigh’s name was surreal, like she was in a dream that didn’t really make sense—her living and breathing best friend and the woman she loved standing in the same room about to have a conversation. God. She hadn’t thought about Leigh since she’d seen Jesse.

  Leigh moved closer to them. “I guess it’s safe to assume your real name is Jesse Quinn? That answers one of my questions but raises a lot more.”

  Jesse looked around the room again and then directed her question to Leigh. “Can everyone here be trusted?”

  Leigh hesitated, and Macy saw her glance at her mother before she answered. “With my life.”

  “I’ve just explained everything to my son, so maybe it’s time to end this story once and for all. We should sit down. It’ll take awhile.”

  Leigh herded everybody around the small kitchen table, and Susan set more coffee, water, sodas, and an assortment of cookies in the center. When they were settled, Macy noted that Leigh had purposely orchestrated the seating arrangement. She and Jack flanked Jesse, with Susan beside Jack, then Leigh, and Pam to Macy’s right. She’d expected Leigh to sit next to her and was a little disappointed when she didn’t.

  Jesse looked down at the bottle of water caged in her hands. “You probably know part of the story, but believe me, you could never imagine what really happened. It’s like something out of the twilight zone.”

  Macy held Jesse’s hand to give her encouragement and to feel connected to her again. “Take your time.”

  “Macy and I went to the club that night. She didn’t really want to go, but I insisted. I was supposed to meet a boy I liked. When we got there, I basically took off and left Macy on her own. Near closing time, I walked outside to get some air. I heard a commotion around the side of the building, so I went to take a look. A tall, muscular man was holding a shorter fellow at gunpoint. The tall guy said the smaller man owed someone money and he’d run out of patience. Then the tall guy shot the other man, three times.”

  The kitchen was as quiet as a funeral home until Susan spoke. “Oh, my God, honey. You could’ve been killed. What did you do?”

  “Apparently, I screamed when the shots started. The tall guy chased me down before I could make it to the door of the club.”

  “Jesse, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.” Macy stroked the back of Jesse’s neck to calm her, kneading the bunched muscles along her shoulders.

  “It’s not your fault. I knew you’d blame yourself for my disappearance.”

  “I should’ve been with you.”

  “No. You weren’t responsible for my teenage hormones and bad behavior. I shouldn’t have taken you to that club in the first place. It was mostly a college hangout.”

  “What happened next?” Leigh’s voice was very matter-of-fact, a tone Macy hadn’t heard before. She couldn’t determine if Leigh was just being professional or if she was annoyed.

  “The guy took me hostage. I knew he was going to kill me and dump my body. He bound me with duct tape in a van, gagged and blindfolded me, and drove around for what seemed like hours. I had no idea where we were when he finally stopped. He made a call from a phone booth. I only caught snippets of his side of the conversation, but he asked to speak with a guy named Francisco.”

  “You’re sure about that?” Leigh asked, not looking up from a small notepad she was writing on.

  “Positive. He told this guy about me, waited, and then his voice got very loud. I heard him say, ‘I didn’t sign on to kill a kid. I won’t do it.’ Apparently Francisco didn’t like that because they argued back and forth for several minutes. My guy gave Francisco directions about where to drop the money for the earlier hit and told Francisco he’d take care of me. I was so scared. If I could’ve just died, I probably would’ve.”

  “Why wouldn’t this guy, this paid assassin, not just kill you right away and move on?” Leigh glanced up at Jesse but never looked her way.

  “I don’t know, Detective. Don’t you believe me?” Jesse asked.

  “She’s not saying that,” Macy said. “Are you?” Leigh still wouldn’t meet her gaze.

  “Well, if you don’t believe me so far, you’re certainly not going to believe the rest of what I have to say.”

  “Just get on with it.” Leigh’s tone had turned almost hostile.

  “We waited all night.”

  “How do you know?” Leigh asked.

  “Because I got chilly, and then the morning rush-hour traffic started and the van got warmer again. Wasn’t hard to figure out. When you’re tied up, you don’t have anything else to do but pay attention to what’s going on around you. Believe me, if you think you’re going to die, every little thing becomes significant.” Jesse’s voice quivered.

  “Shh, shh, it’s okay, Jess.” She scooted her chair closer and wrapped her arm around Jesse’s shoulder. “You’re safe.”

  “Get on with the rest of this unbelievable story.”

  “Leigh!” Susan gave Leigh a look that mothers had used for centuries to silently censure their offspring.

  “My mother doesn’t lie,” Jack said.

  “Evidence to the contrary,” Leigh said. “She’s apparently been doing it quite convincingly for sixteen years.”

  “It’s okay, Jack.” Jesse patted his arm. “When the guy got back in the van, I started talking to him, trying to connect in some way so he wouldn’t want to kill me. I told him my name, and my best friend’s name, where I went to school, and about my parents. He’d grunt occasionally but not really say anything. Later in the day, he went to the drop spot to pick up his money and I heard gunshots. Apparently, Francisco didn’t trust him to take care of me. I heard the other shooters calling my guy Brewster as he dove back into the van. Bullets were pinging off the side of the vehicle. I thought I was a goner.”

  “Brewster,” Leigh muttered, and scribbled on her pad.

  “When he got back in the van, Brewster was a changed man. That’s the only way I can describe it. He drove to a bank, and before you ask, Detective, I know because he told me. He put his cash in a safety-deposit box and said we needed to decide what to do next. We needed to decide. This was the first bright spot in the whole horrible event.”

  Macy stared at Jesse as she told her tale, unable
to digest the convoluted story. One minute her heart was racing and the next she could barely breathe. She glanced at Leigh, willing her to look up so she could get a read on her reaction, but she was doodling—doodling. She didn’t believe Jesse’s story at all.

  “And then?” Leigh said, her gaze locking on Macy. In that moment she saw a mixture of anger and pain in Leigh’s eyes. She’d seen that expression in the mirror for sixteen years.

  “Please go on, Jesse,” she said.

  “He drove awhile longer, but when he stopped this time, he opened the back of the van and took off the gag and blindfold. Before he untied me, he gave me his proposal, as he called it. He wanted to contact the federal authorities, release me, and testify against this Francisco guy in exchange for a lighter sentence. He asked if I’d be willing to stand up for him, swear he hadn’t hurt me. I agreed. What else was I going to say under the circumstances? He explained I’d probably have to go into the witness-protection program. At that point, I would’ve agreed to anything. We made a pact of sorts and he starting making phone calls.”

  “An assassin with a conscience? Really?” Leigh’s tone was one of total disbelief.

  “It’s the truth!” Jack said. “And Karla Chance was born, then she married my dad.”

  Leigh looked at Jesse, her face an unemotional mask. “And when did you decide it would be okay for your son to travel sixteen hundred miles alone to complete the family tree?”

  “Leigh, that’s not fair,” Macy said.

  Jesse shook her head at Macy. “You’ve been around my son long enough to know when he decides to do something, he’s going to do it no matter what. I tried desperately to talk him out of it, but I couldn’t tell him the whole story. I didn’t know where he was going, had no idea he’d come here. How could I know he’d heard us talking about Greensboro? The first time he called we reached an understanding that he’d call me everyday and check in. He was supposed to tell me where he was, but that part didn’t go so smoothly.”

  Pam spoke for the first time. “So, how did you end up here, Jack?”

  “I told you the real story about that. But I got it wrong. When I heard my parents talking, it was about mom’s past, not his. I thought this was the place to start looking. Guess I should’ve talked to my mom and got my story right.”