The Year of Chasing Dreams

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The Year of Chasing Dreams Page 26

by McDaniel, Lurlene


  “You mean like on the CSI shows?” Alice Faye asked.

  “That’s right.” Eden jumped in, as Garret had shown her the Web information and she’d read every word of it. “The test can establish any genetic links between Jon and Ciana. But it’s best if you get tested, too, Alice. That’ll settle everything once and for all.” When there was no response, Eden hurtled ahead. “It can be done at a clinic in Nashville. It’s painless. They’ll just swab the inside of your mouth, send it off, and you’ll get the results in the mail.”

  For a minute Ciana wasn’t sure what was scarier—knowing, or not knowing. But not knowing had turned Olivia into a vengeful woman with a secret that had shaken three future lives.

  “I’m in,” Jon said, gripping her hand.

  “Me too,” Ciana said.

  Alice Faye sat at rigid attention.

  “The results are private, but there are home test kits,” Garret added helpfully. “But a lab seems more trustworthy to me.”

  Ciana said, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Mom.”

  “But it’d be more conclusive if I do it too.”

  “Better,” Garret said. “It’s about you too.”

  Alice Faye gave a look that spoke only of pain, deep and thorough. She buried her face in her hands. The AC units kept humming. The noisy stove clock ground out a faint buzz. After awhile, Alice Faye straightened. “I reckon it makes sense for me to be tested. Find out once and for all who my daddy was.”

  Knowing once and for all. Would this solve a problem? Or open the lid on a box of more? Ciana hoped that knowing was better than not knowing. The test would be conclusive. The future was not.

  Jon drove to the clinic in Nashville with Ciana and Alice Faye sandwiched in the front seat of his truck. He turned on the radio, let it blare out country music, making conversation on the ride impossible. It didn’t matter because no one felt like talking. What was left to be said? Ciana had made an appointment, was told they’d first meet with a counselor, then samples of their DNA would be taken that would determine their genetic relationships.

  Before driving off, Eden pulled Ciana aside. “Need to tell you something.”

  Eden looked nervous and on edge. “Couldn’t bring it up at the table yesterday, but there’s something else that I learned from the Internet.” She wiped sweaty palms down her jeans. Ciana waited expectantly. Eden said, “Just to put your minds at rest, there’s no law against related people getting married in Tennessee. It’s one of nine states that allow even first cousins to marry.”

  If the remarks were meant to give Ciana comfort, they didn’t. “Didn’t know that. What about having children? That all right too?”

  The genetics of inbreeding. “I think genetics matter more if you’re brother and sister.”

  That idea didn’t free Ciana at all. Marrying kin held a taint that made her squirmy.

  “No need to even think about that until you know for sure about your grandfather,” Eden said hurriedly.

  It was like looking down a dark well and being unable to see the bottom. “I’ll keep it in mind,” Ciana said, heading toward the truck.

  Once the truck left, Eden told Garret, “Hope this works out for them.”

  “I do too.”

  Eden slipped her hand into Garret’s. “Come with me. There’s something I need to do, and I want you with me.”

  She led him to the barn, where they climbed up into the loft, and she opened the old trunk. She dug in one corner and pulled out a gray rectangular box wrapped in an old towel.

  “Your mum’s ashes?”

  “Time to scatter them. I should have done it sooner.”

  “Don’t you want the others here when you do it?”

  Eden thought about it, had even planned it that way. But now seemed like the perfect time. “I don’t think they need any more sad moments. Do you?”

  Garret took the box and went down the ladder, Eden following him.

  They went to the garden, with Soldier at their heels. The large garden had been blessed by sun and rain and was now lush with blooms and budding produce. Because it was early, there was a coolness in the air and a fragrance that Eden always associated with that time of the morning—fresh earth perfumed with growing things. She stopped in the middle of the acre-sized garden. Tomatoes grew on one side, pole beans on the other. Red and green. Balance. “Here,” she said.

  Garret opened the box and extracted a plastic bag, handed it to Eden. She cupped it in both hands, peered at the gray mass inside, knowing that this had once been her mother and that this tangible matter was all that remained. She had told herself she wouldn’t cry, so she bit her lip hard in order to keep the promise. She also realized that she had nothing to say. She looked at Garret. “I—I don’t have any words.”

  He touched her hair. “They’re in your heart. You just have to dig them out.”

  “What do the Aborigines do when someone dies?”

  “Sometimes they cut themselves.”

  The idea caused Eden to smile. “Already did that.”

  “Then just let go.”

  She carefully turned the bag, let the gray dust filter out. It was light, and an unexpected breeze caught it and sailed the powder away. She kept pouring a little at a time until the bag was empty and the blue sky and bright sun had turned the air brilliant and crystal clear once more. “Goodbye, Mother. I hope you’re at peace.” A lump clogged Eden’s throat.

  Garret took the bag, stuffed it into the box, and hiked it up under his arm. His other arm went around Eden. They turned and trudged back toward the trailer, the dog close on their heels.

  The clinic was located between a hospital and a courthouse, a dour beige building without personality. Inside, the place held no charm, just a front desk, a few chairs. The main business of the place was paternity testing to determine if any given man had fathered a particular child. Ciana felt a pang for any kid who could be so easily classified to either receive or be rejected for child support, while the question, “Who’s your daddy?” could be answered conclusively in a few days’ time. One person would be happy, another not. DNA paternity testing, a double-edged sword.

  The counselor who met with them in a tiny cubbyhole of an office was a man in his forties. He wore a lab coat, but the sleeves were too short and came off looking silly instead of professional. He explained about avuncular DNA testing, of how three potentially related people could be scientifically matched for comparison of genealogy. The three of them would have the inside of their cheeks swabbed, and the sample would be sent off to be tested for genetic markers. A forty-one marker test would be the most accurate, so that’s the one they paid to have.

  A tech rolled a long cotton-tipped swab on the inside of Ciana’s cheek and popped it into a plastic tube and sealed it. Jon’s cheek swab was also quick. Ciana’s heart went out to her mother, who shut her eyes and held her breath for the tech when her turn came.

  When the process was over, Jon asked, “How long before we know something?”

  “Usually only takes a few days,” the counselor said. “But these results might take a few weeks because we’re going for a forty-one marker comparison. Takes a little longer.”

  A few weeks, Ciana thought. Until then their lives were on hold.

  The three of them returned to the truck. Heat had been building, so Jon turned on the engine and the AC and rolled down the windows. Heat waves shimmered off the asphalt parking lot. Mesmerized, Ciana watched them dance like puppets on strings.

  “Now what?” Alice Faye asked.

  Jon shoved the gear handle into reverse. “Now we wait.”

  At Bellmeade there was plenty to do while they waited. Two people showed up wanting Jon to help them work with new saddle horses, and he took on the jobs. Ciana was busy cutting and putting up early alfalfa hay and tending cornfields. Eden and Garret took over the garden, left Alice Faye to the trailer where she kept laundry and food prep going. And in a walk that became a ritual, Ciana went to the mailbox
at the end of every day. After three days, Jon stepped beside her, took her hand. “Want some company?”

  “Yes,” she said. And the two of them strolled down the long driveway, hand in hand, between the newly planted oak trees painstakingly mixed with the old growth to fetch whatever the postman brought. One letter came that totally took Ciana by surprise. It was postmarked Chicago and bore the address of Hastings Incorporated. She opened it on the spot while Jon waited. She skimmed it, smiled with satisfaction. “Gerald Hastings wants to build us a house. Imagine that.”

  Jon tipped his head to salute her. “Good. You’ll need a house either way.”

  Either way. She wanted to live in the house with Jon. She slipped the letter back into the envelope, and at the road’s edge put her arms around the man she loved, where they stood for a long, long time.

  Garret liked sleeping under the stars at Bellmeade. Eden preferred a bed, even the camper, but the camper was closed in and hot in these early summer months, so sleeping bags under the stars did make sense. “We’ll be sleeping outside a lot once we get on the road,” he told her.

  “What about crawly things? And wild animals?”

  “I’ll fight them off for you,” he joked, adding, “plus we have Soldier with us.” He ruffled the dog’s fur.

  The shepherd slept out with them, and that did make Eden feel better.

  They each held their electronic tablets, Garret reading over the article he’d written and was getting ready to send off, and Eden with an ebook, when he said, “Want to head to Yosemite Park soon as we can get Jon and Ciana married off?”

  “Okay,” she said absently. The wait for the DNA results was taking forever, and like Garret, she was anxious to be on their journey too. The weather was good now, so travel and camping would be good also.

  “Amazing what science can do with a dab of spit these days.” He rolled up on his elbow, gazed down on Eden. “My family comes from a line of convicts. You aware of that?”

  “You trying to frighten me off?”

  He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Well, if we marry and have children, you might want to know who you’re related to. Could be some wild-eyed pirate.”

  She put the tablet down, unable to concentrate when he kept interrupting. “Is that a proposal?”

  He grinned. “I’ll plan a better proposal for later.”

  She blew him a kiss, raised the tablet. “And don’t worry about children. I’ll never have any.” Garret went silent. Too silent. Eden glanced over at him staring down at her. “What?”

  “No children? No wee people who look like us?”

  “No.” She studied his face, which looked as if she’d slapped him. Suddenly the conversation took on a whole new dimension. “Garret, I’m not being difficult here. It’s a fact that bipolar passes genetically. It hit Mom when she was a teen. Ruined her life. So far it’s passed me by, but it can happen to me too. I’ve told you that. I won’t bring a baby into the world knowing this is hanging over its head.”

  “I—I just never thought I wouldn’t have kids. I’m the last of my family.”

  She grasped the dynamic for him. With Phillip gone, Garret was the only Locklin son. “I thought you had an uncle.”

  “Three daughters.”

  “Maybe they’ll take up the Beauchamp tradition of keeping their family name.”

  “They’re on my mother’s side. Not my dad’s.”

  She could see that she’d rocked him with her announcement. She felt bad about it, but she knew she’d feel worse if any kid of theirs was saddled with bipolar disorder. She reached up, touched his cheek. “I had a horrible childhood, Garret. I know what bipolarism is like. I know the unhappiness it can bring.” His expression was still troubled. She raised up, gave him a kiss. “Let’s not talk about this now. Let’s talk about something fun and happy.” She snuggled closer to him. “Show me on your tablet the trip we’ll be taking.”

  He moved slowly, but finally lay back down, his head touching hers, and raised his tablet, aglow with a map. “Thought we’d start here.” He touched Yosemite, traced a meandering path through the upper plains and into the northwest.

  She made appropriate sounds of enthusiasm, but felt his subtle disappointment and withdrawal. Later Eden lay awake watching the stars travel across the sky, and wondered if something had broken between them.

  The results of the DNA tests took three and a half weeks getting to Bellmeade, and although she’d been waiting for it to arrive, when Ciana removed the oversized envelope from the mailbox, her heartbeat jumped into overdrive. In her hand she held her future, determined by sins from the past. Jon asked, “What is it?”

  “The answers.”

  As they walked back to the trailer, she held it gingerly, like a bomb that might explode any second. The others were setting up for dinner on a folding table close to the trailer, which was just too hot and small to be crammed into for the meal. “You got it.” Eden was the first to realize what Ciana held. All other movement stopped.

  “I haven’t opened it.”

  Alice Faye squared her shoulders. “Come. Sit. We’ll read it together.”

  Ciana wasn’t sure they should, but her mother was.

  Garret and Jon quickly set folding chairs in a circle and they all took a seat, attention glued on Ciana. She stared down at the envelope, decided she shouldn’t be the one to open it. She handed it to her mother. “You open it. Jon and I have made up our minds what we’ll do no matter what it says.”

  Jon nodded, leaving no doubt as to their choice—they would marry.

  Alice Faye recoiled from the envelope, but she took it, fanned the air with it, then thrust it at Eden. “I think my other daughter should open it.”

  “Me? I—I—”

  “Do it,” Ciana said.

  Eden tore open the envelope and extracted several sheets of paper. “Top paper is a cover letter with results spelled out.”

  “Tell us!” Ciana growled.

  Eden’s eyes went wide as she read silently. She looked up, her face absolutely blank. “It does appear that the three of you do have something in common.”

  Ciana’s heart fell with a sickening thud.

  Impishly Eden said, “Belly buttons. You all have belly buttons.”

  Garret was the first to catch on. He roared out a laugh. “Good one, love!”

  Seconds later Ciana and Jon caught on too. Only Alice Faye sat with her brow puckered. Eden leaned over. “No shared genes between Ciana and Jon. Although there is proof positive that you and Ciana are related.”

  Alice Faye snatched the letter, began to weep. “She got it wrong. Olivia was wrong. Charles is my father.”

  Jon pulled Ciana to her feet, buried his hands in her thick cinnamon-colored hair. “You get a preacher. And if he has to marry us out here in an open field, let’s get it done before some other disaster comes along.”

  “I’m on it,” Ciana said, raising on her toes and kissing him to Eden and Garret’s applause.

  Much later, after glasses of wine and beer, and water for Alice Faye, Ciana found her mother sitting alone outside and gazing up at the moon. She dragged a chair over and joined her. “You all right?”

  “First time I’ve been at peace since this whole thing started. Amazing world we live in. Just the swish of a swab and we know who we came from. I feel a little sorry for my mother.”

  “She and Roy were on a collision course, Mom. Eden and I saw it all through the diaries. They had this fatal attraction for each other, and when opportunity came along, they took it. The pregnancy was a coincidence.”

  “But she never knew that,” Alice Faye said. “In her mind, I was punishment for sleeping with Roy while she was married. ‘A punishment’ … isn’t that what she called me?”

  The hurt in her mother’s eyes made Ciana wince. She slogged ahead with her explanation. “Great Grandpa Jacob hated Roy, so he and Olivia could have never married. She was a Beauchamp. Her path was predestined. And in those days gir
ls like her didn’t go against her family’s wishes.”

  “I’d like to forgive her, but oh, the pain she caused me.” Her mother sighed heavily, covered Ciana’s hand with hers. “You are the best of the Beauchamps. You and Jon will make this place great again. I’m only sorry your daddy couldn’t be here to give you away at your wedding.”

  “That’s for you to do, Mom.”

  “Me?”

  “And Eden my maid of honor. My family. Forever.”

  Ciana located a small chapel in Nashville and a minister willing to do the ceremony on short notice. The chapel was booked solid on weekends, but in the middle of the week, if they were willing to come in the late afternoon, Ciana and Jon could marry there. They invited no one except Angela, who flew up immediately. “We’ll have a big reception at the Baptist church downtown later,” Alice Faye announced. “Don’t want Mama’s only grandchild not having a reception befitting a Beauchamp.” She and Ciana laughed over the inside joke.

  Since the DNA results, Alice Faye had been a new person. Gone was her unhappiness, along with much of her anger. The change made Ciana happy. She was sorry Olivia had suffered all the years she did, but all was in the past now. She and Alice Faye and Eden held a diary-burning ceremony in the yard’s fire pit late one evening. The flames blazed and danced and sent ashes of the distant past into the night sky. Eden called it a final sacrifice to the gods of unhappiness.

  Ciana never did find a dress to her liking, not that she shopped much for one. On her wedding day she wore white denim jeans, a white cowgirl shirt with pearl buttons, and white leather western boots, no veil. For her bouquet she picked purple and yellow wild flowers and Alice Faye wound the stems with white ribbon and tulle. Garret pronounced her “gorgeous!”

  Eden chose a flattering red dress for herself because she liked the way she looked in red. Jon wore jeans and a black, western-style dinner jacket. Alice Faye, wearing a pale blue dress, gave her daughter away while Angela wore lavender.

 

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