by Gayle Roper
Well, so what? Her life was her life. She'd done her best to make something more of it than her history would have dictated, and she was succeeding, wasn't she? If anything could break the chains of generational patterns, it was Jesus. Sadly that determination to follow Him forced hard choices on her.
"You can't leave!" Nance had said the day she moved out, the day after high school graduation and the ceremony no one in her family had attended. "What will I do?"
What indeed. By then Nance had the two older boys and spent all day sleeping and all night partying. Kelli kept the house and watched over the boys as best she could.
"I have to go, Nance. I feel like I'm dying here."
As was happening with increasing frequency, Nance heard criticism instead of a statement of fact, and she reacted. "You…!" She screamed vile names. "You think you're too good for us! Ever since you got religion, you think you're better than we are. Well, you're not! You're nothing special! Nothing! You hear me? Nothing!"
Kelli had just ducked her head and dragged her plastic garbage bag full of clothes to the car. She drove herself to the little efficiency Mrs. Abel'd helped her find on the third floor of an old building down the street from the storefront church. Then she took the car back home, wondering how long it would be before Dad and/or Nance lost their licenses for drunk driving. It was a miracle they hadn't hurt or killed someone already.
Nance and the kids were gone when she got home, a good thing or Kelli doubted she'd have had the courage to go. Still she wept the whole long walk to her new home. It was her first rebellion.
Some days she felt she was wise for moving away. Others, she felt she was the rat deserting a sinking ship rather than staying and bailing and postponing the inevitable glug-glug as the whole family went under, pulling her down with them.
So now here she was, starting a new life in New Jersey. She had fingernails that weren't bitten to the quick for the first time in memory, and she hardly ever popped antacids anymore. She still jumped every time the phone rang, sure someone had done something unfixable. And she still felt guilty for running.
Trust in the Lord with all your heart, she reminded herself. Just look. The Lord had sent her a beautiful snowfall and an almost-date to make easing into Thanksgiving weekend less lonely.
Dane looked down at her. "I know your family wasn't there for you very often, and that makes me sad. I don't know the details." He didn't say yet, but the word swirled in the air. "But I think you are a brave and beautiful woman."
A lump lodged in her throat. She didn't think she'd ever had a lovelier compliment. She managed to whisper, "Thank you. Really, the particulars aren't all that terrible. They're just sad."
He squeezed her hand. "It's okay to admit to what's true, even when it's not shiny and good."
Kelli blinked back tears. "You are a very sweet man."
He looked appalled. "Don't ever say that in front of my sisters or any guy. Ever. Promise!"
"But it's tru— What's that?"
An apparition appeared in the falling snow as if by magic. She moved closer to Dane, and Charlie gave a great bark. When she blinked, she realized a man had come up a flight of stairs from the beach.
Dane slid an arm around her shoulder protectively. "It's okay. It's just Clooney."
Whoever Just Clooney was, Charlie greeted him with flapping tail, vibrating body, and a delighted rush.
"Hello there, handsome boy." Clooney bent to pat the wriggling Charlie.
Kelli smiled at the man as he straightened. Any friend of Charlie's…
Clooney grabbed Dane's hand and shook enthusiastically. "I just finished Unending. Loved it, and I didn't figure it out. Well done! When's the next one coming?"
Dane grinned. "If only I could write them as quickly as people read them." He indicated Kelli. "This is my friend, Kelli Parsons."
"I take it this beautiful boy is yours?" Clooney patted Charlie's head again.
Kelli watched Charlie lean into Clooney. "He is."
Dane indicated the metal detector in Clooney's hand. "You been scavenging in this weather?"
Clooney nodded. "I thought I'd get in one more pass before the snow." He looked at Kelli. "I think I've got something for the lovely lady."
He reached in the child's pail he held and pulled out a small plastic square. He held it out to Kelli. "I think if you rinse it out well, the pieces will slide again."
Kelli took the object and turned it over. Fifteen small squares with numbers on them sat inside the larger square, waiting to be moved around until the numbers were in the correct order. She looked at Clooney in delight. "I haven't seen one of these slide puzzles in a long time. Everything's electronic these days."
"And some mom wouldn't let her kid bring his electronics to the beach. She gave him this instead." Clooney pulled off his baseball cap, slapped it against his leg to dislodge the snow collecting on it, and put it back on, pulling his ponytail through the back opening.
"How did you find it?" Dane asked. "Since it's plastic, your metal detector didn't discover it for you."
"I found several coins under the boardwalk, and I dug this up when I went for the coins. I'd bet they were all resting on someone's towel and got flipped off and forgotten when the towel was picked up and shaken at the end of the day."
Kelli held it out to return it to Clooney, but he shook his head.
"It's yours now."
"But—"
He pushed nosey Charlie's head out of his pail and gave him a goodbye scratch on his huge head. "Nothing for you, big guy. Happy Thanksgiving." With a wave, he walked away.
Dane watched him leave with a smile. "I was about thirteen when he gave me a Dick Francis mystery he'd found, and my course in life was set. Seaside is full of people who have gotten gifts from Clooney that somehow change life's trajectory."
Kelli slipped the slide puzzle in her pocket. As Dane reclaimed her hand, she couldn't stop smiling. How a slide puzzle would change her life, she couldn't imagine, but she, Kelli Parsons, was now part of a Seaside tradition. Sometimes the smallest things made all the difference.
Chapter Seven
Kelli and Dane walked home, hung their damp coats over the kitchen chairs, and sat on the couch. They opened their laptops and began their search for Annalise Bennington. A cup of coffee for him and a can of Diet Coke for her sat on the coffee table in front of them. They weren't exactly touching shoulders, but Kelli could feel the heat radiating from Dane, and she had to work to stay focused on their project.
Was there such a thing as love at first sight after all?
She made herself concentrate on the reason he was here.
She typed "Annalise Bennington" into Google and hit enter. No one with that name appeared. She glanced at the package resting on the coffee table beside her soda and checked the spelling. She'd gotten it right. Of course, maybe the one who'd sent the package had misspelled it. Still, she'd keep looking for it the way the package indicated.
How could there be no record of her? Between Facebook, Instagram, YouTube and all the social media sites, everyone was public these days. Everyone but Annalise Bennington.
"Bet she's ninety years old and never uses the Internet," Kelli muttered.
She opened a site that featured the name Annalise. "Listen to this."
Charlie opened one eye and studied her from his prone position in the middle of the floor. "Annalise is two names combined. Anne means full of grace and Liese means God is my oath. This site says it's of Scandinavian derivation."
Dane made an mmm noise as he concentrated on whatever he was reading. Charlie yawned.
She hit a few more keys. "This other site says it's German, not Scandinavian, a variant of Hannah, which means grace." She shrugged. "At least they agree on the name's meaning."
Dane mmmed again, and Charlie snored. Kelli leaned over and peered at Dane's screen as a search engine combed through public records including births, marriages, census reports, arrests, and deaths. Benningtons named Aaron, A
my, Aisha, Arla, Anna Laura, Autumn, Austin, and Amber showed up, but no Annalise.
Kelli entered the name Bennington alone. "A college, a town in Vermont, even a brand of pontoon boats. No Annalise."
"Maybe it's spelled wrong," Dane said.
"I wondered about that."
He tried several variations on Annalise—Analise, Annaliese, Analiese. Nothing.
"I found Annalise Keating from TV, Annalise spelled like on the package." Kelli got up from the couch and walked to the kitchen. "Ever watch How to Get Away with Murder?"
Dane leaned back on the couch and stretched. "Only two little problems—Annalise Keating is the wrong name, and she's an imaginary character."
"Picky, picky." She pulled open the refrigerator door and moved a few things around. "I have Cherry Garcia, Chunky Monkey, and vanilla. What would you like?"
"Cherry Garcia, please." He wandered into the kitchen. "You happen to have any pretzels? Salty is good with ice cream."
Kelli glanced at Dane and thought how easily she could become used to him in her kitchen. "Third shelf in the pantry."
He pulled out the bag of fat pretzels. "How does someone not exist in today's record crazy world?"
"That's what I wondered." Kelli shrugged. "Maybe she's as fictitious as Annalise Keating."
Dane stared into space, the pretzel bag hanging forgotten from his hand. "A person who doesn't exist as far as records go, but is real. No record of Social Security, no bank accounts, no birth certificate, no nothing. But there she stands."
Kelli stared at him. Was this how a book started? "That's a great idea."
He waved his hand dismissively. "I'm sure it's been done before, but—" He frowned in thought. "I'd make it mine with the spiritual angle. If the world says you no longer exist, does God say so, too? When your existence is erased on earth, does your name disappear from the Book of Life? Or if you don't exist, is this death you're experiencing? Then what of the afterlife? What of Heaven?"
"But the God Who knows everything would still know you, right?" Kelli couldn't resist playing along. "But unraveling the plot against you and the theft of your identity teaches you to trust in the Lord with all your heart in spite of circumstances."
He stared into middle space for a few moments before he blinked and came back to the room. "Something to think about."
Kelli put the dishes of ice cream on the table, refreshed Dane's coffee, and folded the napkins into triangles on which she set spoons. She slid into a chair and was taking up her spoon when the phone rang. She glanced at the clock and scrunched her eyes closed. Ten-thirty. Too late for normal people to call.
"Aren't you going to answer?" Dane asked on the third ring.
She wanted to say no. She was afraid to. There was no one in Seaside who would call her on a holiday weekend. If someone from home was trying to reach her at this hour, that meant trouble.
With her heart fluttering, she glanced at the readout. James. Her shoulders sagged in relief. At four years old, James was as trouble-free as her family got. He was also cute as a button with his big brown eyes and adorable smile. One day the girls would descend on him in droves. She hit the button. "Hello, James."
"Aunt Kelli, it's me."
"I know, honey. How are y'all doing tonight? And what are you doing still awake?"
"I'm scared." His voice was tiny, fragile.
Her stomach took a nose dive. "What's wrong, sweetie?"
A sniff echoed down the line. "I don't know where anybody is."
Oh, Nance! Not again! "Isn't your mom there?" Dumb question. "Or Marius or Regis? Or Pop-pop?"
"Nunh-unh. I waked up and called Mommy, and nobody talked back. And it's dark."
"Do you mean outside or in the house?"
"Both."
Kelli was aware of Dane listening, brow furrowed as he followed her end of the conversation. Oh, well, he had to learn about her baggage sometime. Might as well be now.
"Okay, James honey. We're going to walk together from room to room and turn on all the lights. Then you can see that you're all safe and fine. Okay?"
"Okay. Y'all comin' over?"
She shouldn't have moved to New Jersey. God, I shouldn't have moved. She should be there to go to him. "I'm going to walk with you long distance, James. You and me together. I'm right beside you."
"I can't see you. Where are you?"
She could imagine him looking all around. "We're going to make believe I'm holding your hand, okay? Feel me squeezing?" She was squeezing the phone hard enough to break it.
He sounded confused. "I don't feel you."
"What? Then I'll have to squeeze harder."
His breath caught. "I feel you!"
Thank goodness for childhood imagination! "Just hold on tight."
There was no answer, and she imagined him nodding his head.
"Where are you, honey? What room?"
"In my bedroom, mine and Marius's and Regis's."
"Can you turn on the light beside your bed?"
"I already did, but it's dark in the hall." His voice sank to a whisper. "It's scary out there. Monsters live out there at night. Marius told me. And they might come in here and get me. He said."
Oh, Marius! "Well, did you know that if you sing the ABC song, they're scared away?"
"They are?"
"They are, because the ABC song means a big kid is coming, and big kids are smarter and braver than monsters."
Dane was watching her with a bemused expression. "I didn't know that. My childhood would have been easier if I had."
She made a face at him. "You ready to sing, James? My friend Dane is going to sing along with you and me."
Dane sat up straight. "I am?"
She shot him a double-dare-you look. Loudly for James she said, "We're going to show those monsters!" She walked to Dane, put the phone on speaker and started, "A, B, C, D…." To her delight, Dane joined her on C, and James's piping little voice sang along. Even Charlie gave a bark.
They were on N the second time through when James announced. "I gots the hall light on, Aunt Kelli."
"See any monsters?" she asked.
"Nunh-unh. Y'all were right."
"Now the living room, James. Turn on the lamp by the couch."
"Sing again?"
"Sure. A,B,C…."
"Gots it!" James announced. "And look! It's Pop-pop sleeping."
More likely passed out, but sleeping would do fine for James. "On the floor or the couch?"
"The couch."
"Can you climb up there with him and take a nap until your mom gets home?"
"I gotta get my blankie." She could hear his little feet slapping their way first to his bedroom and then back to the couch. He made little boy grunting noises as he climbed up. He gave a little giggle. "I'm sitting on Pop-pop's feet."
"Just push them to the side. He won't mind." He won't know.
More grunting. Then, "Can I watch TV?"
"Sure, buddy. Watch some TV."
"It's cartoons," he said as garbled electronic sound filtered over the line. "I'm not scared any more. Bye."
The line went dead, and Kelli let out a long sigh. She returned to her chair and, elbows on the table, rested her face in her hands. All she wanted to do was cry.
Chapter Eight
"They left a four-year-old alone with a drunk who has passed out," Kelli said. "I can't stand it."
"He's your nephew?"
She straightened, trying to compose herself, and nodded. "The youngest of three."
Dane took her hand and drew soothing circles over her skin. "How'd he know to call?"
"I bought him a phone before I left and put my number in it. He knows to push the one, and I'll answer." She gave a small smile. "He's yet to understand about not calling during school."
Dane smiled. "You were wonderful with him."
"Was I? I feel like I failed him. I mean, I'm here and he's there."
"Sometimes to survive and be healthy, you have to separate yourself, at lea
st for a time, maybe for always."
She closed her eyes and nodded. "Thank you for saying that. It doesn't take away the guilt or the feeling that I abandoned them, but it reminds me why I did it."
He reached out and wiped at a tear she hadn't realized was sliding down her cheek. "You can't fix the world, Kelli."
"I don't want to. Just my family."
"Chances are you can't fix them either, no matter how much you want to."
"It hurts," she managed before the sobs came. She put a hand to her mouth. "I'm s-sorry."
"Shh." He pulled her and her chair close and wrapped a comforting arm around her. He held her lightly, and she let her head drop to his shoulder. She had spent so many nights crying alone, mourning for her family, it felt unbelievably good to have someone hold her.
Finally the tears stopped, and she rested wearily against him. He brushed her hair back where it stuck to her wet cheeks.
"I won't tell you it'll be all right, because it probably won't." His voice was kind. "But I will tell you the Lord cares—for you and for them, and especially for little James."
She wanted to snuggle into him and prolong the comfort of his touch and concern, but she knew it was time to pull away. She straightened and brushed awkwardly at his wet shirt. "Sorry."
"Not a problem." And she sensed it wasn't.
"All I want is for them to realize He cares and…" She stumbled to a halt, unsure how to articulate all she wanted for them.
"And get fixed?"
"Yes! And get fixed. Shazam!" She waved her hand through the air. "Dad's dry. Nance's responsible. Marius stops stealing. Regis stops bullying. And sweet James stays sweet."
"I'm sorry life is so real."
She gave a sad smile. "Is it ever. Sometimes I think I ought to fight Nance for James while there's still time to make a difference, but she won't let him go. I know she won't. In her own hapless way, she loves her kids."
He played with her fingers. "How did you find your way out of the family cycle?"
"You got a couple of hours?"
"Short version."
"One night when I was eight…." She told him of her prayer, of the little storefront church, and of Mrs. Abel. He listened, those blue, blue eyes intent.