With a hug and a promise to get together soon, they parted and Holly went in while Samantha took her rapidly cooling take-out to her pick-up truck.
Clay rose and kissed her on the cheek, ever a gentleman. “I wondered how long she would keep you.”
“Oh, you know how it is.” She sighed, and looked over the menu as if she hadn’t seen it a million times before. “She did say some lovely things about Stuart and Ally. I hope those two work out whatever it is they are going through.”
Clay took off his glasses and set them on his menu. “You know, I’ve had no fewer than five people come by and say something about them. I think one person even said it cured her cough.”
“What?” Holly was incredulous. “Are you serious?”
“Well… her exact words were,” he looked around and lowered his voice, as much averse to gossiping or being caught in a tale as his wife. “‘ I thought I was getting pneumonia, then they played and I was able to breathe as easy as you please.’” His imitation southern accent gave away the subject right away.
“Patti? You’re kidding. She’s practically an athiest.”
Clay crossed his heart and kissed two fingers, a sign she hadn’t seen since their youngest days. “Scout’s honor.”
“That’s not the Scout hand signal.”
“Well, both.”
“Hmm. Well, Samantha said it cured her insomnia, in so many words.”
They looked each other in the eyes for a few long moments, then burst out laughing. They were wiping away tears when Alex came to take their order, and it took them some time to catch their breath.
Chapter 16
Stuart saw Ally’s text come through while he was driving, and it took every ounce of his willpower not to pick it up and look at it while he was on the road. He pulled over when he got into town. When he saw what she had written, he wasn’t sure how to take it.
A lot of thoughts went through his head, but the one that stood above all was, It’s over.
He ignored it and kept driving.
The nerves of meeting his family - his family! - overrode most of his current worries, and he gave into it. He almost wished they lived farther away so he would have time to prepare, but it was only about an hour from Ally’s family. He had already told his brother he’d be there by 2. (In the back of his mind, he thought how convenient it was that their families lived so close, that it would make combining families so much easier…. Almost like destiny. But mostly he did a good job pushing down the crazy.)
It would be simple. They’d have lunch, meet, compare notes about family, and then Stuart would go to a hotel and… well, he hadn’t decided what to do yet, exactly. It would probably involve pizza and pay-per-view.
He felt a little guilty for implying to Ally that his family wanted him to stay for a few days. Maybe it had been a little more than an implication… maybe he had said it outright, and apologetically, as if having company (AKA girlfriend) was not an option, nor was his driving back at the end of Monday.
He was angry, and couldn’t put his finger on why, so he once again channeled his anxiety into meeting the family.
As he got closer to the house, he realized Joliet had something like suburbs. He supposed it was his city-boy bias, but he had assumed that there was a firm demarcator between city and farmland: civilization here, pastoral there. But here he found McMansions and grid-line neighborhoods with roads that blended into one another with the same names: Aspen Lane, Aspen Road, Aspen Acres. (With nary an aspen in sight.)
He pulled up in front of the house and marveled that people related to him were there; people who had possibly been at the hospital when he was born. It was just a simple brick house, but right now it held all of his hopes and dreams. (Well, maybe not all, but he put others on the back burner.)
When he got out of the car and slammed the door, he took a deep breath and stood as tall as he could, hoping that would make him feel a little more brave. The door opened before he had even made it to the steps.
A man stood there who could only be his brother. They shared the same features and build. He imagined that if they had grown up together, they would have been the kind of brothers people were always asking, “Are you twins?”
“Stuart! I thought I heard someone pull in.” The man called, and Stuart felt like he had known him forever. “You made it! Come in, we’re just cutting the pie.” As Stuart walked up the steps, his brother reached out a hand, and took it in a firm grasp. “I can’t tell you how glad I am you’re here, little brother.”
“Brother…” He shook his head, hardly able to believe it, then hugged this man he had never met. He felt strangely emotional. Miles squeezed him back hard and he felt a lump in his throat. The familiarity was overwhelming, but how was that possible? The smell of apple pie drifted through the door, and Stuart followed his brother into the warm and welcoming house.
They walked into the kitchen, where two women looked up. He was introduced with handshakes to Miles’ wife Sal and daughter, Jen. Stuart admired her purple hair and realized he had met her before.
“Oh!” exclaimed Jen. “So when you said you had family in Joliet, you meant my family. What a small world!” Stuart loved that the girl with purple hair and dark eyeliner chatted with such a Pollyanna brightness.
“You’ve met our daughter?” Miles looked between the two. Stuart tried to think of any math that would explain her as his brother’s daughter, and could only come up with Miles being a father at 12.
“Yes, getting coffee.”
“That is a small world,” said Sal, handing him a plate. They all settled around the table. It felt surprisingly natural, though Stuart was still nervous. “Or destiny.” Stuart startled a little now at the word, but reminded himself he shouldn’t take it personally.
“Mmm, delicious.” Stuart hadn’t had apple pie in years… He couldn’t remember when. It wasn’t the kind of dish the restaurants he worked at served.
He wondered if he could work it into their catering menu. Who didn’t like apple pie? “Did you make it?”
“Yes,” answered Miles. “I took it out of the box and putting it in the oven. A real challenge, but I think I’ll make the state fair this year!”
The ladies shook their heads in the manner of those used to corny dad jokes, and Stuart found himself charmed. He wondered if this was what his life would have been like, pie around the table with his family, if things had gone differently. His dad rarely fixed a meal to share. He just threw something in front of Stuart until he was old enough to make food for himself (which by his father’s reckoning, was about 4.)
They made small talk for a while, and Stuart was trying to think how to change the subject to his past, when Jen did it for him. “If you’re wondering how I could be their daughter-”
Stuart made a small shrug he hoped expressed, None of my business, but yes.
“They were my foster parents when I was 11, and they adopted me when I was 15.”
“Wow, that’s amazing. I was in foster care, too. I never met any teens who were adopted. You’re good people.”
Miles shook his head, and Sal said, “It wasn’t charity. We fostered several kids we didn’t adopt. But when Jen came to us, it was just so obvious. She was family.”
Stuart smiled, trying to hide his discomfort. He hadn’t meant to imply that they adopted her out of pity, it was just… He remembered what it was like, to be a kid and hope that someone would want you to be a part of their family. It was hard not to look at Jen with envy. She had won the jackpot, in his world.
Well, but we are both in food services, so maybe it all comes out in the wash.
“We only talked a little on the phone about what happened. What was it like for you? It must be awful being kidnapped.”
Stuart pressed his fork into the crumb remnants, playing with them more than planning to eat them. Kidnapped? That wasn’t a word he’d used to describe his life.
“That’s interesting. I never thought of it that way. Of cou
rse, it was the only life I ever knew. He was my father, and then he died… But…”
There was a long pause, then Sal prompted him softly. “Go ahead.”
“Just hearing that word, kidnapped, it makes things come to mind I haven’t thought of in years. We moved around a lot. And everywhere I went had a hiding place. Sometimes it was a cubby in the wall, under the stairs. Sometimes it was behind the couch. One time it was even inside an end table, when I was still small enough to fit in there, barely.”
“He made you go into these hiding places?” Miles looked puzzled, and Stuart had the strange feeling that must be what he looked like when he was trying to wrap his head around an odd concept.
“Whenever someone knocked. I never even questioned it. It was just the expectation. Every time someone knocked on the door, I was to go into the hiding spot. That’s just how it was.” He put his fork down and leaned back. “Like a trained dog,” he grumbled.
“You were just a child.” Miles reached across the table and rested a hand comfortingly on Stuart’s shoulder. Stuart swallowed, wondering why suddenly felt like he was going to cry. I am not going to cry in front of these people.
He coughed into his fist. “Anyway, he was my father, it couldn’t really be called kidnapping.”
The others at the table exchanged glances. They knew more about his childhood than he did, the look said.
“The thing is…” Miles scratched at the tablecloth with a thumbnail. “He was our father, but he didn’t have custody. And our mother had put a restraining order against him. For abuse.”
He met Stuart’s eyes. “For abusing me. He was supposed to show up for sentencing. He was supposed to go to jail.”
Stuart gulped, and he forced out the words. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”
Miles looked at his family, and they excused themselves brightly, but quickly and hastily. Had they actually discussed this, Stuart wondered, a time to exit the conversation. Stuart felt warm and suddenly nauseous. The pie wasn’t sitting well.
“Listen, Stuart… I know we’ve just met and we barely know each other. We absolutely do not have to talk about this if you don’t want to. But…” He couldn’t meet Stuart’s eyes now. “Did it happen to you, too?”
Stuart froze. “No. I mean, nothing I would call abuse. I talked back a lot, you know. Kind of deserved it.”
“Well… You were two when he took you. How old were you when he died? 9 or 10? That’s not old enough to deserve anything. If there is such a thing as deserving it.”
“I was five. I don’t know. I don’t remember much.” But even he didn’t believe what he said. “What do you mean, I was two? He took me from the hospital, didn’t he?”
“No, who told you that?” Jack tried to remember. Had anyone said that? “He showed up one night, completely drunk. He started off nice, like he wanted to come back. But she wouldn’t let him in. He kicked the door in, beat her up and stabbed her five times.”
“My God.”
“You and I had hidden upstairs. I hid under the bed and you hid in the closet. He found you. When I came out you were gone, and I thought mom was dead.”
Jesus. “What happened?”
“I don’t remember anything after seeing mom like that. I was told later that I ran to the neighbor’s covered in blood. They had already called the police because they saw him kicking the door in and heard her screaming. But then they called for an ambulance, too.”
“She survived, though?”
Miles nodded. “Barely. I lived with my uncle - who you met - for a while.”
“He seems like a nice man.”
“The best. Wish he had been our dad, you know?”
Stuart nodded. He did. He looked at his brother and realized the familiarity was real, from his earliest memories. They had spent years of their lives together. He had forgotten he had a brother at all. What was it like to have a little brother who disappeared?
As if reading his mind, Miles said, “I blamed myself for a long time. I always felt like I should have come out. Then he would have taken me and not you.”
“Or killed us both.” He knew the man. He had been sure he was going to die at his hands a few times.
“I know. I had a good therapist.” He smiled sadly. “We were just kids. It wasn’t my fault, and anything that happened while you were with him? It wasn’t yours.”
***
Things went downhill for Brad when he returned to his campsite. Everything had been fine, and then the girl ruined it.
He decided to start a fire when she snuck up on him. She was wearing a sweater dress and boots, like a vision from a fairy tale. She was even wearing red. If she’d only had a hood, he might have made a joke about being the Big Bad Wolf. But maybe that was too close to the truth. His thoughts did go immediately to devouring her. She was precious. Dressed too lightly for the chill day, cheeks flushed with red from the walk. When she came to the clearing, she looked for a few moments at the camper, head tilted quizzically, like she was trying to place it. Then he stood, from where he had been prepping his fire, and she jumped. “Oh, sorry,” she said, backing up. “I didn’t know you were there.”
“It’s okay,” he said hurriedly. “Don’t go.”
“I have to get back.” She continued walking backwards without turning. “My boyfriend is waiting for me at the cabin. He’ll worry.”
She was lying. She’s scared of me, he thought with a small thrill. His heart sped up.“Your mom and dad live over in the white house on route 8, right? They know I’m here. Tell them I said hi.” He tried to sound casual, though his breath was coming quickly and his mind was already overwhelmed by images of what he could do - what he could have- if he could only get her in the camper.
She will enjoy it, too.
“Okay,” she said hesitantly. “I will. How do you know them?”
“Oh, I worked with your dad back at the factory.” He hoped he had gambled right. It didn’t look like a working farm, and there were only so many jobs in the area. His luck, he’d be a retired lawyer.
“I think they mentioned you. They missed you at the party last night.” She watched him carefully. She was testing him.
“I was a little under the weather,” he said easily, walking toward her. She backed up. “Was that you singing?”
She gave a small nod. He edged closer to her. “Stay. Sing for me.” He was almost within arm’s length when she turned like a startled deer and ran. He ran after her. Part of him knew this was going to get him in trouble, that he would end up in jail or worse… He had a lust and a bloodlust, though, that was driving his steps. On a primal, driven level, he felt like he couldn’t let her go without getting what he wanted. He just couldn’t.
He was gaining ground when a white-hot fire paralyzed his leg. As he fell hard to the ground, another slice of pain tore up his arm. He had been holding the knife he’d been preparing the wood with, and his reflexes hadn’t kicked in to remind him to drop the knife to break his fall. He fell on the arm at a terrible angle, and to make matters worse the knife sliced into his chest.
Irrationally, he thought, Please let this kill me quickly. When we wasn’t dead, and had taken a few ragged breaths, he called out, “Wait, I’m hurt! Help me!” He heard the girl running away, the leaves sounding all the world like a deer in the woods. “Send help, please!” he gasped, then passed out.
Chapter 17
When the man started coming toward her with the knife in his hand, Ally thought, I’m going to die here.
The night before, she had had a dream. She was walking through the woods, and the red-gold light of autumn was all around her. In the dream, Cath had appeared by her side, walking silently for a while. When she did speak, she said, You’ve made a mistake, but it’s not too late. It’s not like the conservatory. You can still do the right thing.
Alison had looked at the trees, shielding with their dark branches, and not felt like it was a dream at all. She felt embraced by the old spirits of the trees. T
hey understood her, and protected her, and never asked more of her than she was able to give. I’m okay. Everything is fine.
No, Cath had responded, you’re not. And if you try to do this alone, you will fail, and people will die. You need him.
In the dream, Cath had vanished, and Ally had kept walking down the path. Even in the dream, she felt resentful, and unhappy with the vague guidance she was getting - or supposedly getting - to follow the signs of destiny.
It had been days since Stuart had left, days since the party that had been at once so invigorating and so overwhelming. She felt like she had been living in a fog since then. She and her parents had spent a lot of time together, and her dad had drafted a business plan for her “just for fun.” They had gone shopping, and she had put clothes in her cart that made her feel like she could embrace this climate for a little while longer (and they would probably stay in her closet here, if she tried to travel back to the city any time soon… not that she was a snob… but sometimes she was a little bit of one). When they had gotten to the checkout, her dad had snuck in front of her and paid for the whole cart.
They had had quiet days, and an evening out for the Tuesday “fish fry” at Romy’s, where she had met even more cousins she didn’t know she had, and didn’t even know how that was possible. She had grown up here. How was it possible she hadn’t met them? But they gradually became more clear in her mind, and she realized that it was just that they had been children when she had last spent any real time here. How had they grown up so quickly? Some of them even had kids of their own.
By Thursday, she had settled into a gentle rhythm. It stopped feeling like she was a guest visiting from out of town, and more like she was actually living here. Her mom and dad stopped fussing over her, and when she offered to wash dishes, there was no argument. She liked it here, she realized with not a little bit of surprise. It made her wonder why she had ever left. She had gone looking for a better career, but it now looked like she might find her best life right here, teaching at home.
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