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Twist Page 18

by Roni Teson


  “I should have told you.” I went out the front door. “Dad?” My feet flew across the yard.

  Charlotte and Dad were standing in the street, hugging.

  Luke said, “Who’s that woman in the car?”

  My eyes shifted to the person in the passenger seat. I strode past Dad and Charlotte and went to the other side of the car. I bent down to the window. “Mom!”

  I yanked on the handle. Her frail body was a sight to be seen. I helped her out of the car and Aunt Charlotte pushed my father away. “Grace?” she yelled, and then started bawling.

  Aunt Charlotte and I helped Mom into the house. I heard Luke say to Dad, “It’s a pleasure to meet you sir.” I lifted my head from Mom and caught a glimpse of Dad standing near Luke. At least he hadn’t punched him.

  “Your father is something else,” Mom said. “He pulled it off. We’re alive.”

  “No, you’re something else,” I said. “I’m alive because of you.”

  Aunt Charlotte’s mascara was smeared all over her face as she hugged Mom and babbled about how grateful she was. Finally, after we were settled in the living room, she asked, “What about the FBI? And that secret-mission stuff—and Teddy being arrested?”

  Mom said, “They got what they wanted.”

  “The cruelest thing anyone can do is to fake their own death.” Tears streamed down Aunt Charlotte’s face. “How could you do this to me? And to Beatrice.”

  “Grace didn’t know,” Dad said. “She was in a vegetative state. I did it.”

  “Why?”

  “I thought they’d leave me alone. I was so close.” Dad closed his eyes. “Then things got complicated.” He turned to Aunt Charlotte. “Grace has had to relearn everything. We—”

  Aunt Charlotte broke in angrily. “Where have you been?”

  “I did what I had to, to keep my family alive,” Dad said. “I’m sorry if it hurt you. We were in Seattle, and now we’re going to stay here. I’ve set up a lab nearby.”

  “This didn’t just resolve itself, Dad,” I said.

  “True, we had Oliver Campbell on our side. He negotiated my freedom.”

  “You just handed over the drug?” I asked.

  “Not exactly,” he said.

  “I didn’t think it was that simple,” I said.

  Mom patted my leg. “Some things are, honey.”

  “Well, tell me how it ended with the FBI,” I said. “You were on the news and in magazines.”

  Dad smiled. The lines around his lips weren’t so defined now, and his hair was only dusted with gray. No disguises today. “You realize what this drug can do, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  Aunt Charlotte and I were sitting on the couch, with Mom sandwiched between us and Luke standing nearby. Dad was in front of the TV set. All eyes were focused on him.

  “I could picture it, MDT, getting into the wrong hands.” Dad’s foot pointed straight, as he bent down on one knee so he could be at our eye level. “The NSA wanted this drug so bad, and I’d refused for so long because it wasn’t ready. I was smart about eluding them.” He smirked. “But that was exhausting. So this time, when Agent Carter asked me what I wanted, I was ready.”

  “The answer was easy.” He paused, with his index finger in the air.

  I held my breath, and we all seemed to lean in toward him at the same time. “Finish the story!” I demanded

  “So you say,” he teased. And then he stood up and frowned. “All kidding aside, I have a highly classified agreement with the federal government and they now have limited use of my—our—drug.”

  “Are you sure you’re not nuts, too?” I said. “After everything they went through to capture you.”

  “In reality, I turned myself in,” he said. “And we pulled off the impossible.”

  “Am I hallucinating?” I asked.

  Mom’s grip strengthened around my hand. “It’s over, dear. It’s over.”

  Aunt Charlotte sniffled and clung to my mom. I sat quietly, not convinced we were done with the espionage.

  Dad and Luke wandered into the kitchen where they had an intense conversation. I hoped Dad wasn’t going to be mean to him, after everything Luke had been through.

  The front door flew open and Uncle George came stomping in. His eyes moved from Dad on one side of the house to Mom on the other. “What the . . .” He dropped his keys and leaped into the air. “No way!”

  He ran to Dad and hugged him, then over to Mom. “How can this even be possible?” he said as he grabbed her hand and massaged her arm. “You feel warm and alive.”

  I listened while Mom explained to Uncle George and Aunt Charlotte about my illness, and about what she’d been through.

  I walked over to Luke. “Is this really happening? Can you believe this?”

  “No,” he said. “Beatrice Malcolm, force of one.” He put his arms around me and whispered in my ear, “Your dad’s pissed at me.”

  I peered around Luke and saw that Dad had taken my spot on the couch next to Mom. He was holding her. When Dad glared at Luke, Luke took his hands off of me and held them up, and Uncle George chuckled.

  Luke held my hand and we walked out the front door. “Your dad offered to help me. Said it was only because of you, and that he doesn’t like me.”

  I grimaced.

  “He’s not convinced that any damage I have is permanent.” Luke looked back over his shoulder, and then he put his arms around me. “Beatrice Malcolm, what’s it feel like to have your family back?”

  “Incredible. It doesn’t seem real.”

  We laughed and hugged. Swirls filled my head, just like before. Then Luke pushed away from me when Mom and Dad stepped outside. Aunt Charlotte and Uncle George followed.

  “What do you think of Jessica Gray?” Dad said, as he approached. “She’s smart.”

  I chuckled and said, “Be smart.”

  “Bea smart, Beatrice smart, she’s so smart it hurts,” Dad sang.

  “It’s really true now,” I said. “Unless I’m completely nuts and this is one big illusion.”

  Mom’s warm hand touched my arm. “We both might be seeing things. That’d be some trick, wouldn’t it?” She held on to my dad’s waist and they moved slowly toward the car. “Beatrice, your father’s taking me to our hotel, and he’s off to the lab.”

  “Don’t leave me again,” I said.

  “Your Aunt Charlotte’s going to drop you off tomorrow. You and I will have some alone time.”

  After he helped Mom into the car, Dad waved me over. His eyelids looked heavy. A tear fell down his cheek.

  “What’s wrong, we’re all together,” I said.

  He wiped his face with his shirtsleeve. “In the next week or so we truly will be. Your mother’s going to find a house, near Charlotte, and we’ll stay there for a while.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  He hugged me, but he was sad. “Everything’s good. We had a close call, that’s all.”

  “I’m going with you,” I said.

  Dad squeezed me.

  “I want to be with you,” I said.

  “I know,” he said. “I’m proud of you for handling yourself so well.”

  That made my stomach light up, but still, everything seemed so crazy. “I’m not sure this is real,” I said.

  Dad chuckled. “Oh, it’s real. It’s just something no one will ever believe. I promise, we will all be under one roof in the next week or so.”

  “I want a minute alone with Mom,” I said.

  Dad opened the car door and motioned for me to sit. I tucked my legs under the dash, and he closed the door. Mom put her hand on mine, and we sat there crying, again. I gulped. “Are you going to recover, physically?” I asked.

  Her grip tightened around my fingers. “I’m giving it my best shot.”

  “Is your brain on warp speed, like mine?”

  She closed her eyes and nodded. “Kind of frightening, isn’t it?”

  She handed me a tissue and I wiped my
nose. “What do I do about this boy?” I asked.

  “What do you want to do?” She looked into my eyes. “He’s cute.”

  I giggled. “I know.”

  “Why don’t you just enjoy each other’s company?”

  I felt the dark cloud—and for no reason.

  “Why are you so sad, honey? Is something wrong?” Mom asked.

  “I suppose everything is right, and I’m not used to that,” I said. “What about this medicine, this illness, and . . .”

  “And what?” Mom said. “In reality, Bea, we only have this moment. Why not enjoy it?”

  “So it doesn’t matter if I’m crazy and in the middle of a delusion, because I’m happy?” I asked.

  Mom chuckled. “Not exactly, but that could work.” Her fingers brushed across my cheek. “No matter what, Bea, know that I love you, and so does your father.”

  We hugged and then I somehow ended up standing in the street. And as the car drove off and I walked into the house I thought, How could I not know that they loved me? And so what if I’m hallucinating, at least my mom is alive.

  “Where you been?” Uncle George asked.

  Aunt Charlotte saw the look on my face. “Did you see them again?” she asked.

  “Yes, I said. Don’t ruin it by explaining anything. I like it the way it is, right now, in my head.”

  “Okay,” she said.

  “Wait,” I said. “Did Luke stop by yet?”

  “No,” she said.

  “Okay, don’t tell me anything else,” I said. “This one was longer than the others. I think it started with Luke coming over . . . or really not coming over.”

  And then I headed upstairs and stopped halfway. “What about Mrs. Gray, was she here?”

  “Yes, but she had a quick turnaround,” Aunt Charlotte said.

  “I got it. No more, please.” Fatigue consumed my entire being, as I slowly continued up the stairs and climbed into bed. I closed my eyes and thought about the type of house Mom would chose.

  Epilogue

  I woke up in a room I didn’t recognize. A tattered piece of paper was lying on the bedside table. The writing looked familiar. I squinted in confusion when I read the title. From Beatrice to Beatrice.

  I sat up and continued reading.

  Your name is Beatrice Malcolm. You live with your Aunt Charlotte and Uncle George. Your father was on the FBI’s Most Wanted list, until he turned himself in. Your mother passed away. Although your mind may constantly trick you to believe that she is still alive, don’t believe it—it will only hurt more.

  You’ve experienced love, loss, and happiness, and when your brain is firing on all cylinders, an intellect that is unsurpassed. Yes, that’s quite a bit for a girl who is only sixteen. seventeen.

  When you read this and decide that today will be a great day, remember what you can, and twist what you need to.

  Enjoy!

  Beatrice Malcolm.

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  The Bishop Girls

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  Roni Teson

  I. A Family Secret Revealed

  1

  Sleight of Hand

  Mama’s friends, meaning everybody in Mountford, Ohio, came running when Lydia’s body arrived. That’s when we realized Lydia didn’t exist anymore. Shattered Mama’s heart into a million little pieces. Got to me, too. I missed everything about my glamorous sister, the one person I wanted to be.

  Rainey, my big-city sister, arrived at the last minute. Slid into the limo, sandwiched me between her and Mama. “My plane got delayed. Got here soon as I could. How you holding out, Molly?”

  “My heart’s cracked,” I said.

  Tears rolled down Mama’s cheeks. I grabbed her hand.

  “Are they sure about the accident?” Rainey said.

  Mama shot Rainey her not now look.

  But Rainey kept on. “I’d like to hire an investigator. Find out what happened. The whole thing sounds suspicious.”

  “Let’s talk about that tomorrow,” Mama said. “Today, we need to pay our respects.”

  “I have to catch a plane later on,” Rainey said.

  “No. You won’t be leaving today.” Mama huffed.

  Rainey crossed her arms. Twenty-seven, but she’d obey Mama. We always did.

  At the church, people crowded into the pews. Mama’s bloodshot eyes made me want to cry more. She patted the tears with her white hanky, forced a smile. A church lady led us to the family waiting room.

  I had to find a bathroom. When I came back, I caught Mama and Rainey arguing real loud, until they noticed me. A fake smile filled Rainey’s face. Mama brushed the stray hair into place on my forehead.

  “What’s going on?” I asked her.

  The organ started to play. Mama seemed relieved that she didn’t have to answer me. “That’s our cue,” she said. We followed her to the entryway of the church where she positioned herself between Rainey and me.

  The ushers motioned for the guests to rise. We walked to the front row, where I saw my dead sister. The coffin lay wide-open. I heard a woman say, “That little one, Molly, sure does resemble Lydia.”

  The preacher guy motioned for everyone to sit. The crowded church got noisier until somebody said, “Shush!” Then the quiet became scary loud, because everyone could hear Mama’s sobs.

  Mayor Hallman, who sat behind us with his wife, put his hand on Mama’s shoulder. When Mama’s hand came up to meet his, I swear I saw Mrs. Hallman cringe. But Mama acting friendly with any man wasn’t unusual.

  “We are here today.” He moved around that small stage, added extra syllables to each word. “Paying tribute to a life lived to the fullest. Lydia Bishop, known as Constance Holiday to the world, but also a daughter . . .” He stopped in front of Mama, squeezed her knee. “. . . sister, wife, mother, and philanthropist. On behalf of her beloved family, I want to thank you for being here today to help us celebrate Lydia’s life.”

  He spoke about Lydia like she lived here, went to his church. Shoot, coming here is the last thing she would have done.

  He stepped behind a podium, read from the Bible. Sounded so good, I actually wanted the Lord God to take away the tears from my face, from Mama’s face, too. By the time he finished I thought I needed to be saved. I said amen and hallelujah with the entire room. I got so swept up, I forgot about Lydia.

  When everyone bowed their heads in a prayer, I caught the mayor touching Mama’s shoulder again. Good thing Mrs. Hallman had her eyes shut that time.

  The ushers motioned to the congregation to come up front. Mama and Rainey clung to each other while a whole bunch of strangers walked by for a final look at Lydia.

  I wanted to punch the old guy who waited in line to see her. He didn’t know how to whisper. Everyone heard him. “She married for money. Rich lucky bastard.”

  I glared at him until he saw me. He got pink cheeked, embarrassed, I guess. Finally, he scooted away.

  A perfumey woman dragged a young boy toward Lydia. The kid patted my arm until she jerked him along.

  Where did these people come from?

  When the church finally emptied, the pastor gestured for me to take my turn with my sister. Tears flowed down my face. I soaked that darned hanky Mama gave me—couldn’t move.

  Mama, Rainey, and the preacher stared at me—waited.

  Like that old guy, I scooted toward Lydia. Froze in front of her casket, my insides split apart. Her hair dyed blond. Her cheeks sunk in. She looked so different from when I saw her last Christmas. I remembered excitement on her face—which made me sadder, because I’d never see my sister’s beautiful eyes dancing again.

  Rainey moved to my side, mumbled words that sounded like a prayer. She dabbed her runny mascara with a torn-up tissue. “I can’t believe this. Lydia seemed so invincible.”

  “It really doesn’t look like her, does it?” I said.

  Rainey wrapped her
arms around me. “Sweetie, they had to rebuild her face.”

  We moved out of the way so that Mama could be alone with Lydia. My cracked pieces crumbled when Mama kissed her dead daughter good-bye and let out the loudest sob. I wanted to run to her but Rainey held me back.

  “You need to let her be for a few minutes,” she whispered in my ear.

  Mama bent over the casket, reached inside, placed a cross or something in Lydia’s hand. Didn’t seem like anything Mama would ever do. Then she motioned with her other hand, like she took something out of the coffin. But maybe I saw wrong with the tears blurring my vision.

  By the time we finished our farewells and drove behind the hearse to the graveyard, the cold seeped into my bones. “How come we never go to church?” I asked.

  Mama’s skin turned two shades brighter. “Some people are spiritual, Molly, don’t like organized religion. The Bishop girls have an understanding with God.”

  “Spiritual, us?”

  She put her hand on mine, half-smiled. “You’re still my baby, fifteen-years old and—”

  Rainey butted in. “Are we having people over to the house afterward?”

  “Of course,” Mama said. “Wouldn’t be a proper funeral without a gathering.”

  My sister jerked her head toward the window.

  Mama reached across me, put her hand on Rainey’s chin, and pulled her face around. “Why can’t you take time away from that man?” She shook her hands out as if she flicked something off. “You should’ve been more like your sister. God rest her soul.”

  The limousine parked at the curb, far enough behind the death wagon so the pallbearers could remove Lydia’s coffin. I glanced up the hill.

  Mama said, “I’m having Lydia placed on the top so she can have a view.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. She can’t see. She’s dead,” Rainey snapped.

  “This isn’t a day to be mean to your mother.” Mama’s eyes bugged out when she reached across me again. This time, she grabbed Rainey so hard her knuckles turned white. Shook her. “You disappoint me, Lorraine. Your sister did so much for this family and that—” Mama caught me staring and let go of Rainey.

 

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