by Various
Chapter 6
Expecting it to be her mother, she sucked in her breath. Instead of Patty Montgomery, a little girl around the age of eight with long red braids and glasses stared up at her. It was like looking back in time at herself.
“Is Patty home?” she managed to ask once the fear had left her voice.
The little girl turned and ran into the house, leaving the door open. She walked into the small kitchen. The same clock hung on the wall above the card table where two kids were eating. The kids looked up, one with the same shade of red hair Chelsea had and milk dripping down her chin, the other with jet black hair and glasses. The table was sandwiched between the refrigerator and pink wall. Chips in the paint stood out like a photo album of memories, each one rushing back to her like flipping the pages of her life.
She knew how most of the paint damage had happened, most had been caused by her or her sister’s rough, unsupervised behavior. She eyed the chip from when Allison had been practicing her pitching skills in the house. Chelsea had missed the ball, letting it sail into the wall. Plaster flung off the wall. Knowing they would be in trouble when their mother came back, they’d stayed in their room the whole evening. Their mom had forgotten about it by morning.
“I heard you were back.” The voice croaked behind her. She froze as if she were three years old and caught doing something bad.
“Hello.”
She slowly turned, scared to see her mom for the first time in ten years. If she had seen the woman on the street, there’s no way she’d recognize her. The once happy smile now set in a deep frown, wrinkles etching the sides. Her formerly flaming red hair was now pulled back into a sloppy gray ponytail, the uniform she’d always worn replaced with stained sweats and a faded ripped t-shirt. The poised woman from her past had disappeared. What had happened to the mother she used to know?
“At least you can come and sit down,” Patty Montgomery croaked again after she took a long drag on her cigarette. The constant stream of smoke dancing around her hadn’t changed.
She followed her mom into the adjoining living room. Another child sprawled on the couch, eating a candy bar and clicking the buttons on the remote control.
A patch of carpet had been rubbed all the way to the floor boards. “Gross,” she mumbled as she stomped on a roach scurrying across the floor. She sat down in the faded recliner across from the couch.
“Miss the place, do ya?” Patty asked with a chuckle and then swatted at the kid on the couch.
“Larson, move your lazy ass outta my spot.”
“I was here first, Grammy,” mumbled the boy with his mouth full of candy.
Patty sat down anyway. Her rail thin body wiggled on his legs. The longer she sat, the more he squirmed around the couch.
“Your ass feels like a sack of rocks, Grammy.”
Her mouth dropped open in shock. The kids talked to her mother this way? Patty had run a tight ship back then. Her mom had become a stranger to her.
“Then maybe you should move your ass, Larson.” Patty lifted her butt up long enough for Larson to snatch his legs from underneath her.
“Damn, Grammy, you gotta ruin everything,” Larson whined as he jumped up from the couch. He turned with his mouth open, ready to lash out some more.
“Watch your mouth. Go play outside.” Patty shook the cigarette at him as if it were one of her fingers.
“I don’t wanta.” His hands went into fists as he flopped onto the floor.
“And I don’t care!”
Things sure had changed. This scene was nothing like her own childhood. Even her mother had refrained from swearing most of the time. She and her sisters would’ve been fed a dab of dish soap for using foul language, but only if Patty could afford to buy another bottle. Otherwise, they would have been spanked, no matter their age.
“The foul-mouthed kid is Larson, Danielle’s youngest.”
That explained it all. “He looks like her.” Larson did too, with his wavy black hair, tanned skin and dimples. He was a spitting image of his mother. Larson had the same type of mouth as his
mother also. He stood up and grabbed the waistband of his baggy jeans so they didn’t fall down, then stomped out.
Patty snubbed out her cigarette and flipped another one from the pack, then put the cigarette to her lips. “I don’t usually smoke so much.” She leaned closer and whispered, “It’s just…well, my nerves are jumbled today.”
“So how are my sisters doing?” she finally got the nerve to ask.
“To be expected. Danielle finally married Paul. They live over on Bank Road and she works at the doctor’s office. Allison still lives here with her two brats. Those are them in the kitchen. She’s the manager at the diner where I work. Can you imagine her being my boss?”
The little girl with the red hair from the kitchen had come into the living room. A stack of coloring books were under one arm with a gigantic box of crayons under the other. She didn’t so much as make a peep as she dropped the crayons and books onto the floor, then flopped down beside them. Patty picked up the remote and turned cartoons on, making a smile spread across the pretty little freckled face.
“See her,” Patty nudged the girl’s scuffed Mary Janes with her own foot, “That’s my sweetie. Allison was pregnant with her when you left, but we didn’t know yet.”
“How many other children do they have?” How many other children would look like her little Elizabeth?
“Danielle has four children and Allison has two. I hope to God neither has any more. I didn’t even want you girls, let alone all of these mud suckers.” She gestured toward the group of kids running through the house. “I take care of every damn one of them and I’m too old for it now.”
The teenagers walked into the kitchen to rummage through the cupboards. Soda can tabs flipped open and happy chatter drifted in the living room. So far, that had been the only reminder of what life had been like for her amongst these walls. Living here had been more than cockroaches, cigarette smoke, and foul language.
“I don’t understand.”
“What don’t you understand, Chelsea?” Patty lit another cigarette.
“I have so many happy memories from here. You worked a lot, but weren’t a bad mother. I don’t understand what you mean by not ever wanting us girls.”
“I didn’t, Chelsea.” Patty leaned back onto the couch and crossed one bony leg over the other. “I never wanted to be pregnant and never wanted to raise any kids. I did my job though. Now I’m raising all of my grandkids.”
“I see.”
“Do you really?” Half the cigarette was smoked when her mom snubbed it out again. Chelsea expected another to be slipped from the pack but her mom leaned back against the couch instead.
“Yes.” How did one digest the fact they were never wanted? Did her own daughter feel the same way? The very idea made her want to vomit.
“I found a pregnancy test in the garbage the night you left. Did it belong to you?”
“Not one for small talk.” She picked at her nail. She didn’t want to talk about this, but what choice did she have now?
“Never have been.” Her mother’s eyes stared at her as if they were trying to steal the truth from her.
Her stomach tied up into a knot. A lie rested on the tip of her tongue. It would be so easy for her to say Danielle’s or maybe she didn’t know whose test it was. But what would that accomplish?
Nothing.
“The pregnancy test was mine.” She let out a deep breath.
It seemed for a second Patty’s anger washed out of her as the idea set into her head. She sat back up and lit another smoke. A noisy argument broke out in the rear of the house, probably over the single bathroom.
“That’s why you left.” It wasn’t a question. Patty knew the answer already.
“Yes, Mom. I’m so sorry.”
Her mom took a deep breath. “I didn’t know you had run away. I couldn’t accept that as an answer.” She stared down at the coffee table in fron
t of her. “I’m sure you’ve heard about the abduction thing?”
She fought back tears. “Yes.”
“After the investigation, Sheriff Jacks released your hoodie to me. Your hoodie didn’t have any evidence on it besides being dirty and torn so they figured you had run away. The weird thing is, the sweatshirt is gone.”
“Gone?”
Patty finally looked up and held her arms out. “Gone! I had the thing on my dresser. I looked for it and it wasn’t anywhere in this house!”
“Did one of the girls misplace it?” She looked toward the kitchen entry as half of the teenagers made their way back outside. One stopped at the fridge again.
“No.” Patty swiped at her eyes, then leaned back on the couch. One leg crossed over the other and she glanced down at her cigarette as if she finally realized how many she’d smoked in the past half hour. A deeper frown set in, pronouncing the creases around her mouth. The cigarette was snubbed out into the ashtray, barely even smoked. “So what are you sorry for? Becoming pregnant or leaving?” The anger crept back in her eyes.
“Both, I guess.” She crossed her arms over her chest. She wanted to leave but she needed to be here, to do this. “And for scaring everyone. I had no idea they’d have thought I was abducted.”
Patty’s hand shook as she lit another cigarette. “So why are you back?”
She shrugged, trying to make it appear casual. “Just thought I should make things right.” She didn’t want to reveal anything about Jordan. Not yet.
Patty stamped her foot against the floor. “You’re here to bring another kid for me to raise?”
“No.” She shook her head.
“Well, don’t get any ideas, now you see what your sisters are doing. I won’t do it for you.”
“I don’t have her anymore. I gave her up at birth.” The words were harder to say than to think. Would it be easier to say the hundredth time than the first? How many times would she have
to explain herself?
Her mom nodded with a faint smile on her pasty lips. “Good. At least you did the sensible thing.”
She flinched. “I’m not so sure of that, Mom. But I wouldn’t have you raise her anyway…”
Hopefully she could relieve some anger Patty held in her heart for her.
Patty pointed at her. “No. Don’t come in here, trying to make yourself seem any better than your sisters. You’re just like them.” Her mom’s hand flew up to her mouth as a cough wracked
her body. She couldn’t seem to catch her breath.
“Do you need something? Water?” asked Chelsea.
The coughing subsided. “No, I’ll be all right.”
The front door opened and footsteps came toward the living room. The click-click sound of heels filled the house, making any further questions die in the air. She sucked in her breath. Anxiety swirled around in her stomach like a ball of snakes as she waited for her sister to appear in the doorway.
Chapter 7
“Mom! Guess what? I—” One look at Chelsea caused Danielle to stop in her tracks, her mouth wide open.
“Hi,” Chelsea said with a slight wave.
“Chelsea, is that you?” Danielle screeched in delight.
“It’s me.” Trying to hide her nervous smile, she held her arms out wide. “Surprise.”
Danielle’s face relaxed into a big smile, showing glimmering white teeth. Her hair looked almost raven colored against the white sundress with the bright flower print. Her tan was as vibrant as it had always been.
Danielle walked over and wrapped her arms around Chelsea’s waist. After swinging her around in a circle like she had always done when they were younger, she set her down and stepped back to get a full view.
“How the hell are you? Where have you been? Damn, we got a lot of stuff to catch up on!”
Chelsea smiled and wondered why Danielle only swore in every day conversation and not while angry as most people did. “It’s great to see you, Danielle,” she replied once her sister would let her get a word in edgewise.
“Wow. It’s wonderful to have you back, but you’re still in trouble with me. Lots of explaining to do,” she said with a wide grin and then giving her a hug. “I never thought my little sis would ever come back.”
“I’m going to be in town for awhile.”
“Hannah, go tell Larson and Katie to get in the car,” Danielle said to her daughter while she let go of Chelsea, then to Chelsea she said, “Stop by my house. Would love to visit.”
“I will for sure.”
“Allison knows you’re back. Don’t expect a warm reception from her, though. She took all of this personal.”
“To be honest, I didn’t expect a warm friendly reception from any of you guys. I certainly don’t deserve it.”
“I haven’t been very friendly to you,” Patty croaked from the couch.
Danielle scribbled her address and phone number down on a piece of paper she had picked up off the overstuffed coffee table and shoved it into Chelsea’s hand.
“Mom is happy you’re home. Don’t let her tainted attitude fool you,” Danielle said with a laugh before turning for the door.
A smile formed in her heart and made it all the way to her lips. She’d never realized in the past ten years how much she really missed these people.
“Can I use the bathroom?”
“Let’s get something straight, Chelsea. You may have run off, but this is still your home. You never have to ask to use anything here.” Her mother’s chapped lips parted a tiny bit to form a half-smile.
Smiling in return, she went through the kitchen to the bathroom. As soon as she pushed the bathroom door open, images of the
last night in this house flooded her mind. She tried to push them back out. She’d thought the memory was gone forever since she had pushed it out of her mind so many times over the last several years, but here it was, fresh as if it had happened yesterday.
The cracked toilet had been white at one time but had turned off-white due to age. It was hurting her butt. Tears streamed down her face as she looked around the small bathroom. Only one person would be able to fit comfortably in here, but on several occasions the three of them had crammed in to get ready for school, work, or to go on dates. They would crowd around the small porcelain sink to stare at their young faces in the chipped mirror. When they had been in
there together, they weren’t the easy Montgomerys, but were Danielle, Allison, and Chelsea. In the bathroom, the teasing didn’t seem so real and her sisters had been teenagers again instead of
mothers.
Here she was, ten years later, and the toilet seat hadn’t been changed, but one of the screws had fallen off and so when she sat down, the seat slid sideways. The faucet dripped and years of use
scarred the linoleum even more. The lock on the door was gone and someone had half attempted to paint the small room from an olive green to a sky blue. The paint job wasn’t very good. Perhaps it had been her nieces and nephews? She tried picture the children painting the room with Patty watching over them. No images would come to her. She didn’t know these people anymore. Would she ever?
* * * *
“Right there. That’s the one.” She pointed at the big yellow house. She remembered pulling into the circular driveway with Zack for the first time and had thought it was nothing short of a mansion. Now it didn’t seem so big or impressive.
Jordan gave her hand a squeeze as he pulled the rented SUV to the side of the road.
She looked up at the house. Jordan’s daughter was in there, but what if they refused to give her back? “If they don’t give her back, will you take them to court?”
“Do you think they’ll fight me about it?”
“Jordan, I don’t know them,” she said softly, staring up at the window to see if she could spot any glimpse of Elizabeth.
Jordan pushed his door open, then turned back to her. “You knew them enough to sell them our baby.” He got out and slammed the door before she could even reply
.
She joined him on the porch and peered through the glass on the front door. A little girl, with the same shade of hair as Jordan’s, did a series of twirls through the foyer. Classical music floated to them outside. Was the ballerina Elizabeth?
She knocked on the glass but didn’t think the girl had noticed them. The girl closed her eyes and danced in the opposite direction for a few more moments. Lost in her own world. A world she and Jordan were about to disrupt.
“Think it’s her?”
“It has to be. Go start the car and keep it running,” he ordered her.
She didn’t like the change in his voice or the mischievous gaze that swept across his features. “Why?” she asked.
“I’m not leaving without my daughter.” He pushed the keys into her hand.
“Don’t tell me you’re going to take the little girl.”
He knocked again. “Yes. I most certainly am.”
“What if she isn’t Elizabeth?”
Jordan sighed. He grabbed the keys back from her and put them into his jeans. “Fine. We’ll talk first, but the option isn’t totally out.”
They watched as the girl pushed the button on her stereo, then left the foyer. Jordan jabbed the doorbell, sending some strange music ringing through the house.
“That would get old real quick,” whispered Jordan.
She folded her arms over her breasts. She didn’t want to be there, standing on the Markales’ porch, getting ready to demand the little girl to be returned to her father. But she was here anyway to end the pain for the only man she’d ever loved.
The little girl reappeared. The closer she got to the door, the more she didn’t think the girl resembled either herself or Jordan.
“I don’t think it’s her,” Jordan replied.
“What are you going to say to them?”
“I’m going to wing it.” Jordan took a step back as the girl pulled the door open.