by Becky Durfee
Just as Jenny had suspected, she was shaking the hand of the one-and-only Aunt Kathy. “I wish I could take the credit for it,” Jenny said. “But it was Patricia who did all of the work. I was just born with the ability to receive that kind of message.”
“Well, it’s still amazing.” Realizing they hadn’t been properly introduced, she continued. “I’m Patricia’s sister Kathy, by the way, and this is my partner Chris.”
Shaking the other woman’s hand, Jenny said, “I’ve heard a lot about you. Brian’s friend Derrick had plenty of nice things to say.”
“Oh, Derrick,” Chris said, turning to Kathy. “Do you remember him? He was such a nice kid. Whatever happened to him?”
“I don’t know,” Kathy said. “I haven’t heard his name in a long time.”
“He’s a hairdresser now, out in Seattle. He apparently works in an upscale salon and is doing well for himself. And he says hi, by the way. He spoke very highly about all of you.” Despite knowing better, Jenny kept quiet about the reason for the divide in the friendship. That wasn’t her secret to reveal.
She introduced Rod and Zack to Kathy and Chris, and condolences were given. After a short conversation they parted ways so other guests could approach the grieving family. Soon after, people were invited to take a seat and listen as Patricia was eulogized. Most people sat; Rod took this opportunity to make his way to the back of the room.
During one of the speeches, Jenny glanced over her shoulder to find Rod waving his hand in those familiar small circles in front of one of Patricia’s pictures. Despite her curiosity she turned back to face the speaker, trying not to pay too much attention to the words she was hearing, which stood to reduce her to little more than a pile of tears.
Once the speeches were over, Jenny reconnected with Rod at the back of the room. “Hey,” she said softly as she approached him. “Did you pick up on anything?”
“Probably what you might expect,” he confessed. “She feels happiness and a sense of peace. A lot of the people she loved are here, and I think she knows that. But I do feel that lingering sense of fear…a nagging one, not an acute one. I think she’s worried about the trial.”
As any mother would be.
Chapter 18
While Jenny approached Amanda’s house with Rod, she had to admit she was nervous about what she would encounter. Amanda had seemed pleasant enough on the phone, but her brother had been a little bit frightening—actually, a lot frightening. Hopefully that wasn’t a trait that ran in the family.
Jenny rang the doorbell, immediately inspiring a dog to bark excitedly. “It’s just a doorbell,” Jenny heard a woman’s voice say. “Settle down.” The door opened slightly to reveal a well-put-together blond woman restraining a medium-sized black dog by the collar. “Hi,” she said. “I’m sorry about Max. He’s friendly but he gets very excited when guests are here.”
“It’s okay,” Jenny replied. “I like dogs.” Jenny held out her hand and let Max sniff her.
“If you ignore him he’ll go away,” Amanda noted as she opened the door the rest of the way. Jenny and Rod came in the foyer and introduced themselves. While the dog’s tail wagged so frantically his whole body wiggled, he did eventually get bored by his guests’ underwhelming reaction and left the room. “Please, come have a seat,” Amanda said, sweeping her arm toward the back of the house. “Ignore the mess. I’ve got two little ones, and they destroy everything faster than I can clean it.”
Jenny smiled at the toys that littered the floor, noting the house was otherwise clean. “Oh, it’s no problem. How old are the kids?”
“Two,” Amanda said. “They’re twins, and they keep me on my toes, that’s for sure. I hired the neighbor’s college-aged daughter to keep an eye on them upstairs while I talked to you today…otherwise I’m not sure we could have a decent conversation.”
Any fear that Jenny had once felt subsided as soon as Amanda offered them muffins that she had baked that morning. This woman clearly lived a world apart from her brother—Jenny just needed to find out how that difference came to be.
As they sat at the kitchen table, Jenny brought up the sensitive topic. “I’m sorry if this is going to dredge up some painful memories for you, but my goal is to figure out what your parents want to tell me. I think it would help if I knew a little bit about the story behind your parents and your brother.”
“No, don’t apologize,” Amanda said, “I find this fascinating. What do you want to know?”
“Well,” Jenny said. “I know your parents were killed in a car accident twelve years ago, when you were sixteen and John was eleven.”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“What type of relationship did you kids have with your parents?”
Amanda sighed as she reflected. “A great one. They were good parents…hard working, caring…a little strict, maybe, but I know that was based in love.”
Jenny pinched a bite of muffin and popped it into her mouth. “And did John get into trouble as a kid?”
Shaking her head, Amanda said, “Not at all. He was a really good kid.” She looked solemnly downward.
“So I imagine he was devastated after the accident.” Jenny knew she was stating the obvious.
“Oh, absolutely. We both were. That’s the most horrible thing that can happen to a child. You have to figure that we didn’t just lose our parents, but we lost our home. I was a couple of weeks shy of my seventeenth birthday when the accident happened; I wasn’t old enough to legally be responsible for John, so we had to move in with my grandmother a few towns over. As a result, we also had to switch schools, which meant we didn’t see our friends, either. Our entire lives got turned upside down.
“I think it was harder on John than it was on me because of his age, though. I had my license and a car, so I had more freedom than John did. I still had the ability to drive around and hang out with the same group of friends. John didn’t have the means to go and see his friends regularly, so it was like he lost everything, not just his parents.”
“How was life at your grandmother’s?” Jenny posed.
“How was life at my grandmother’s?” Amanda repeated while drawing a deep breath. She wiped the back of her neck with her hand and said, “Interesting. My grandmother’s health was failing, and I really believe she took us in because she had to, not because she wanted to.” She held up her hands. “Don’t get me wrong; she loved us a lot. That wasn’t the issue. It was just that a woman her age shouldn’t have had to deal with raising teenagers, especially when she needed to be focusing so much energy on her own well-being…Never mind the fact that she’d just lost her child. We can’t lose sight of that in all of this.
“I honestly think she was a little resentful that we were there. I don’t blame her for that, especially since I’ve had my own kids. Raising children is hard. Besides, grandmothers are supposed to spoil the grandkids and then send them home, you know? They shouldn’t have to be the primary caregivers and disciplinarians. But we really had nowhere else to go, so she let us live there. I just think she lacked both the physical ability and the desire to effectively parent.”
“What about your grandfather?” Rod asked.
“He had passed away several years before the accident,” she explained. “My grandmother lived alone…well, that is until we moved in.”
Things started to make sense in Jenny’s head. “And John ended up living with her a lot longer than you did.”
“Exactly,” Amanda said. “And those were his formative years. I only had one year before I went off to college, and like I said, I kept my same friends as before. John made a whole new set of friends, and as you might suspect they weren’t the best crowd.” Her eyes found their way downward again.
Jenny understood. It was the curse of the woman. “Let me guess; you feel guilty about that.”
Amanda smiled politely, but it was clearly to mask some pain. “Yes. Very much so. I was rather self-absorbed back then. All I knew was that I only had to endur
e life at my grandmother’s for one year until I graduated high school, and at that point I’d be able to use my parents’ life insurance money to pay for an off-campus apartment at my college. And then I’d be free. I didn’t spend enough time thinking about what life was like for John. Maybe I should have gotten a bigger place and let him stay with me…”
“So he could watch you drink yourself into oblivion with your college friends?” Rod posed with a smirk.
Flashing a devious smile in Rod’s direction, Amanda said, “Exactly.” But then she shook her head and said, “Although, if I knew how badly John was going to spiral out of control, I would have gladly sacrificed the partying lifestyle in order to keep an eye on him.”
“You say that now that you’re an adult,” Rod said compassionately. “But at the time you would have been resentful of that. Besides, you probably wouldn’t have had any more control over him than your grandmother did. You were, what, eighteen years old?”
Amanda nodded. “I would have made a lousy mother figure, that’s for sure. I could barely take care of myself back then.”
“Precisely,” Rod said. “So don’t beat yourself up for what happened to John. It was just an unfortunate series of events, and in no way your fault.”
Jenny glanced at her father. Leave it to a man to be able to view the situation so scientifically. Jenny, on the other hand, could understand why Amanda felt badly about the whole thing—it was an odd form of survivor’s guilt.
“So when do you think John started using drugs?” Jenny asked.
Amanda looked surprised for a second before she realized Jenny wasn’t judging; then she relaxed. “Young. Too young. Late middle school, maybe? It wasn’t the hard drugs back then, but that’s awfully young to be delving into pot and alcohol. I think the poor kid was trying to make himself numb, and without the guidance of a suitable parental figure, he fell very far very fast. By the time I got my head out of the clouds and focused on somebody besides myself, John was already a full-fledged addict. Once someone reaches that point, it becomes very difficult to help them.”
“So you said you spent your parents’ life insurance money to get an apartment,” Rod noted. “I imagine John used that money to fuel his habit?”
Amanda nodded emphatically. “You got it. I think he burned through his inheritance pretty quickly. I guess that’s what happens when you give a young guy a lot of money without much supervision. I did use some of my leftover money to buy him that old, beat-up house he lives in. I at least wanted to make sure he had a roof over his head. But anyway, the last I heard he now supports himself—and his habit—by selling crack.”
The word choice wasn’t lost on Jenny. “Last you heard? I guess that means you’re not in contact with him anymore.”
Amanda looked at her lap again. “No. Not since the twins were born. I know you might think I’m a horrible person for what I’m about to say, but I tried to help him. I truly did. I tried for years, but he was beyond help. And once I had the kids…” She shook her head. “I felt like I had a choice to make. From the minute they were born, the twins have taken up so much of my time. I swear there are days where I don’t even have the time to shower, so I certainly don’t have the time necessary to devote to my brother. Besides,” she said with shame in her voice, “he made it very clear that didn’t want to be helped. I didn’t want to take time away from my kids to engage in something that was sure to be futile. Instead I’ve chosen to put my efforts into things I have control over—like making sure my kids don’t end up on a similar path as their uncle.”
“There’s no shame in making your kids your first priority,” Jenny noted.
“I know,” Amanda whispered, “but it breaks my heart whenever I think about John.”
“Well,” Rod said in a much more chipper tone, “do you happen to have any old photo albums with pictures of your parents?” He gestured to Jenny with his thumb. “She may have the ability to receive contacts without them, but I need photographs in order to get a reading. Either that, or do you have a laptop or a tablet or something? I do remember seeing a picture of your parents on the Internet; I could always use that.”
An awe-filled smile graced Amanda’s lips. “I have some old pictures; I’ll go get them.” She got up from the table, leaving Rod and Jenny alone with their silence. John’s story was a sad one, no doubt about it, made sadder by the fact that he could have had been anyone’s child. His life had been ruined by a complete stranger’s decision to get behind the wheel after a night of drinking. Nobody deserved to pay that much of a price for somebody else’s bad decision, especially not an eleven-year-old boy.
Amanda returned with a stack of three old albums, the edges of the pages yellowed with age. She opened the top one, looking at the first page before posing, “Any particular time frame you’re looking for?”
Rod frowned. “Not necessarily. I just need a picture that clearly shows your parents’ faces.”
Amanda continued to look through the first album when Jenny touched her hand to the second one, politely posing, “Do you mind?”
“Oh, no,” Amanda said, pushing the book in Jenny’s direction. “By all means, help yourself.”
Jenny opened the book, which featured older pictures, presumably of Amanda when she was a baby. Jenny smiled as she looked at the photos—they looked like nice memories. She tried not to focus on the fact that Amanda’s parents had been cheated out of so many years with their children and a lifetime with their grandchildren.
Jenny skimmed the photographs until a particular picture caught her eye. The image featured a woman that Jenny assumed to be Amanda’s mother, Marcy, with a toddler girl cuddled on her lap, nestling her head sleepily into her mother’s neck. A wave washed over Jenny as she saw a brief glimpse of that photograph in action. Although that picture gave no indication of it, Jenny said to Amanda, “You used to twirl your hair when you were little.”
Amanda looked up at Jenny with awe. “I did?”
“I just got a vision of you sitting on your mother’s lap, and you’re doing this.” Jenny demonstrated the motion on her own hair, looping loose strands repeatedly around her fingers.
Amanda covered her mouth with her hand. “My daughter does that,” she whispered.
Jenny smiled. “I think your mother knows that.”
Amanda’s eyes filled with tears as she cleared her throat and blinked repeatedly in an attempt to maintain her composure.
“It’s okay,” Jenny assured her. “You wouldn’t be the first person I’ve made cry.”
Amanda laughed at herself as a tear worked its way down her cheek. “I’m sorry,” she said, embarrassed. “It’s just the thought of my mother knowing she has grandchildren…it’s a little overwhelming. One of my biggest regrets has been that my parents never got to know their grandkids.”
“I’m sure,” Jenny said with a smile. “But it appears they actually do.”
Having found a close-up picture of Anthony Zeigler, Rod began to circle his hand over the photograph. Out of respect for Rod’s craft, Jenny remained quiet as he worked his magic. After a few moments he announced, “Your father was the disciplinarian of the house, wasn’t he?”
Still choked up from Jenny’s revelation, Amanda silently nodded.
“I get the feeling he wants to put his foot in your brother’s behind.”
Amanda’s tear-filled laugh reflected sadness and happiness at the same time. “Oh, I’m sure of it.” She wiped a tear with a napkin she’d grabbed from the center of the table. “He was a firm believer in consequence. If my dad was alive, my brother would probably still be grounded for the pot he smoked as a freshman in high school.”
Jenny’s gaze shifted back and forth between Rod and Amanda. “I guess to go from that kind of strict upbringing to a guidance-free home is a little too much for a kid that age…especially one who is angry at the world.”
Amanda nodded subtly. “He went completely wild at my grandmother’s house.”
“Did he
ever get any counseling to help him deal with your parents’ death?” Jenny posed.
“I wish he had.” Amanda looked at Jenny with genuine sadness. “Maybe he would have learned a better way to deal with it than turning to drugs and alcohol.”
A stir began within Jenny; at first she wasn’t sure if it was a vision surfacing, but before long she realized it was a tug. She got up and wordlessly put her purse over her shoulder, heading toward the front door. “Come on,” she heard Rod say to Amanda, although his words sounded distant. “We’re going somewhere.”
“Where?”
“We won’t know until we get there,” Rod explained as he followed Jenny out the door.
“Well, let me just tell the babysitter…”
“No time,” Rod said. “Call her from the car.”
Jenny took advantage of someone else’s well-timed entry as she skirted her car through the open gate of the storage facility. She drove down the main aisle, took a right, and returned halfway up an aisle a few rows down. Stopping her car, she turned to her passengers. “This is it.” She pointed to a unit marked 556, although in every other way it looked just like all the others. “That one right there. Does it mean anything to you, Amanda?”
“No,” she replied in a flabbergasted tone.
Still feeling a little funny inside, Jenny got out of the car and walked toward the unit. She placed her hand on the orange metal door, closing her eyes and focusing on the message inside her head. Turning to Rod and Amanda, who had emerged from the car, she announced, “There’s a foot locker in there. You know, one of those dark ones with the gold trim around the edges.” She gestured with her hands, estimating the dimensions of the box. “That’s what we’re looking for.”
“What’s in it?” Amanda asked.
Jenny shook her head. “I have no idea.”
Amanda looked confused. “I don’t even know whose storage unit this is.”