There was just one thing I had to do before I left. Something I dreaded more than walking into that “temple.”
I heard Mom’s car next door around four and began building up my confidence and defenses for the battle to come. I wasn’t even halfway ready when ten minutes later, the front door opened and Mom stepped in. I could tell by her fake pout and squared shoulders that she was still upset about the night before. Some of her therapists thought she had borderline personality disorder with narcissistic tendencies, but I wasn’t sure she fully fit the criteria. She definitely was bipolar and had been on medication for over a decade. But the dysfunction didn’t stop there. I’d decided long ago she was also stuck at age sixteen. Moody, immature, and selfish. I learned early that there was no point in arguing with her; she was all but a stone wall when it came to her position. Guess that’s where Billy and I got it from. I knew I had to be the more mature person, taking a few licks to the pride to smooth things out with Mom. At least when it came to events like the previous night’s tiff. But when it came to big issues like me dropping out of high school to get my GED or joining the FBI, I held my ground. World wars began between us, but I stuck it out and won in the end. Hell, even when I “lost” to her I usually won. As she stepped in, I said a silent prayer that I wouldn’t need my battle armor that night.
“Hi, Mom,” I said as she shut the front door.
“Hi, Faye. How was work?” Grandma asked beside me.
“Fine,” she said, pout still affixed.
I knew what I had to do. I rose from the couch, walked over to her, and pulled her into a hug. Her petite body grew tense in my arms for several seconds, but eventually she hugged me back. “I’m sorry for last night, Mom. I’m sorry I worried you.”
“I know. I’m sorry too. I just don’t want anything to happen to you,” she whispered. “I’ve almost lost you twice, and I may have lost Billy now. I don’t know how much more I can take.”
I released my mother and smiled. “I know. I’ve put you through a lot. And I am sorry for that. Really. And I’m sorry I haven’t been around. I wasn’t in a good place. It had nothing to do with my love for you all. It was selfish. But all I can do is try to make it up to you all. Okay?”
“Okay,” Mom said, nodding.
“And you haven’t lost Billy. He’s just…a little lost in himself, like I was. But I swear to you, Mom, I’ll do everything in my power to help bring him back. I swear on Hayden’s grave I will.”
Mom began tearing up and caressing my hair. “Thank you, baby. I know you will. I’m just…I’m so scared. And I hate feeling helpless. I hate it. Especially when my child’s involved.”
“I know, Mom.”
“You can’t. Not until you have children of your own, you truly can’t.”
She had me there. “You’re right.” I took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “But I’m committed to finding him.”
“Just don’t put yourself in danger too,” she said.
“Mom, I’m not in danger, and neither is Billy. At least not physically.”
“But he is in danger?” Mom asked, voice raising an octave with each syllable.
Me and my big, tactless mouth. “No. Danger isn’t the right…” I sighed. “If I had to guess, right now, Billy is the happiest he’s been in his life. Or that’s what he thinks at least.”
“Why? What have you found out?” Mom asked.
“Sit down, Mom,” I said.
“No. No!” She held out her arms as if I were going to move her. “I-I’m fine here. Don’t mollycoddle me. I’m the parent here. Just tell me.”
I glanced over at Grandma, who was listening as well, then back to Mom with a sigh. Just do it. “I discovered Billy…Mom, he married a girl named Betsy a few days ago. Because she’s pregnant.”
Grandma let out a quiet gasp and Mom’s eyes doubled in size. I mentally prepared myself for the screaming, crying, and hysteria. “Ar-Are you sure? How do you know?” she asked in a small voice.
“One of the people at The Temple told me when I brought his name up.”
“They could be lying,” Grandma said.
“They don’t know I’m his sister, and they had no reason to lie,” I said.
“That would explain why he left so suddenly,” Mom said, still in shock, still staring at the ground. “Do you…what do you know about this girl?”
“Not a lot. By all accounts she’s just a shy, nice girl.”
“Not that nice if she steals another woman’s fiancé,” Mom pointed out.
“Oh, God. Does Gia know?” Grandma asked.
“Yeah. I told her today.”
“Is she okay?” Grandma asked.
“It was a shock, but she’s tough. She’s strong. It sucks, but I think she’ll be okay.”
“Should we call her? Offer our support?” Grandma asked.
“It couldn’t hurt,” I said.
“I can’t believe this,” Mom said, shaking her head. “Is-Is it legal? Do they plan to live with those crazies? Is she getting prenatal care or is some witch doctor dancing over her with a stick and berries? Is—”
She was getting riled up, so I took her hand. “Mom. Mom, I don’t know any more than what I’ve told you.”
“Faye, Billy wouldn’t do anything to put the baby in danger,” Grandma said.
“If they’re filling his head with mumbo jumbo, God knows what will happen. They could sacrifice it to Satan or something!”
“They’re not Satanists, Mom. And Satanists don’t do that, regardless.”
She wasn’t listening to me. I’d seen that look before. Mouth wide open like a beached fish, eyes double their size only half focused—she’d gone down the crazy chute. “You have to find him, Iris. You-You-You have to get them all out,” Mom said desperately.
“I’m working on it, Mom. I’ve called in some favors. I’ve interviewed former members, I know he’s somewhere in Niagaraville…”
“And you’re going back to their lair, right?” Mom asked.
“Uh…yeah. I have to.”
“Why can’t you just go in, flash your gun in their faces, and demand to know where he is?” Mom asked.
“Because that’s illegal and I’ll get arrested?”
“There’s a baby involved now, Iris! My grandbaby! Possibly the only one I’ll ever have! You’ll risk your life for strangers’ innocent children but not your own niece or nephew?”
“Mom, yesterday you were yelling at me for risking my life, even though I wasn’t, and now you’re yelling at me for not risking my life,” I spewed back.
“There is an innocent baby’s life on the line now, Iris. A baby that can’t defend itself. It’s up to us to look out for it and save it from those psychopaths!”
“Mom it’s not a baby, it’s a weeks-old fetus. It’s not crawling around and—”
“Of course you wouldn’t consider it a life,” Mom said, scoffing and rolling her eyes dramatically. “What would you know about children and compassion? You killed your own baby with Paul and then wouldn’t give Hayden one because of your stupid career.”
She may as well have punched me in the gut after spitting in my face. I was speechless for a few seconds, the rage too overwhelming. I was shocked I could still breathe. “Wow. Just…wow, Mother. You know what?” I walked toward the kitchen counter, where my purse sat. “I don’t need this. I don’t need you judging me, especially when you have absolutely no right to.”
“No right? I’m your mother!”
“Is that what you think you are?” I snapped.
“Iris…” Grandma said.
“You want to insult me, Faye? Judge me? No.” I stared directly into her brown eyes. “You have one child who skipped town the moment she could and another who would rather live on a farm working twenty-four/seven with a bunch of brainwashed cultists than see you ever again. And you’re lecturing me on motherhood? You’re lecturing me on anything?”
“Iris, stop!” Grandma said.
I glanced at Gra
ndma, then back to Mom. “No, no, you’re right, Grandma. In a battle of truth and wits she’s entered the Thunderdome unarmed. There’s no sport in this.” I put my purse strap over my shoulder. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, the dried-up spinster with no compassion is going to spend the evening trying to find your son. Although I’m starting to think he has the right idea staying the hell away from you, you ungrateful, childish, cruel bitch. Go to hell, Faye.”
I opened the front door, stepped out, and slammed it hard behind me. I was literally vibrating with fury as I walked toward my car. My hand could barely turn on the ignition. How dare she? How fucking dare she? I thought to myself as I hit the steering wheel with my palms. Part of me knew she was frightened and furious and needed to lash out as she usually did, as I’d told myself I’d let her, but she obviously hit a nerve. She mentioned Hayden’s name and I just saw red.
One of the greatest regrets of my life was not having a child with Hayden. On the nights I needed to torture myself, that was always the ammo I used to wholly eviscerate myself. He wanted children, we both did, and we talked about it even before we married. We always intended to have them, but I wanted to be farther along my career path, on surer footing, before I had to take time off. Sadly, most of the FBI mothers’ careers took years to get back to where they were before their babies. But there was time. Or so I thought. Fate had other notions. Hayden never got to hold his baby because of me and my career, twice over. Mom had to know I’d harbored massive guilt about that and used it to win a ridiculous argument anyway. And people called me heartless.
My cellphone began ringing before I got around the block. It was my grandparents’ number. Probably Mom calling to either continue the fight or apologize. I didn’t want to hear either. It was a bad fight but nowhere near our worst. After the whole abortion debacle plates got broken, we called each other every name in the book, and I spent two days living in my car. Paul wasn’t returning my calls after the news broke and everyone began giving him shit too. Mom and I eventually apologized to one another, but things were never the same. She made it so hard for me to empathize with people who played the victim. I’d met actual victims of the worst crimes imaginable who never used the label, never let it define them, but my own mother wore the badge with pride. Probably why I could never respect her. My grandpa lost his foot but he never, ever let it define him or stop him from a damn thing. He went hiking and hunting, and didn’t even use his handicap parking permit. When my grandmother got breast cancer she still made dinners, picked me up from school, and smiled while doing it. Grandma insisted. Of course I spent two years playing the victim, but I did my best to quarantine myself so I didn’t take my misery out on too many others. I loved my mother, or I thought I did, but I cannot say I ever liked her. On the drive to The Temple, I started to realize maybe the feeling was mutual. That was a blow.
I somehow got to The Temple without killing myself or anyone else with my road rage. There were a lot of cars on the street and packed into the driveway. I parked down the street and took several deep breaths to quell my anger and get into “Carol” mode.
Maybe it’ll be nice to pretend to be someone else tonight, I thought to myself as I approached the house. The three people smoking on the porch all smiled as I came into view. I recognized them from the party, especially Dutch, the one who thought he recognized me. I kept my head cowed as I moved up the path. “Uh, hi,” I said with an awkward wave.
“Carol, right?” Dutch asked. “Welcome back.”
“Thanks. I, uh, is Megan here?”
“Not right now,” he said, “but she’ll be back soon.”
“Oh, okay. I’ll come back.”
“Nonsense,” Dutch said, rising. “You’re welcome here anytime under any conditions. Helen’s here. She could probably use some help in the kitchen too. Most of us are out on ambassador duty.”
“Uh, okay. I can help. Sure.”
Dutch stubbed out his cigarette. “Come on.” He walked beside me past the other smokers, who smiled at me in unison. “You know, you do look real familiar. And I don’t mean that in a pickup-line kind of way.”
“People keep telling me that,” I said. “I-I don’t…” I shrugged. I was definitely working on borrowed time. He or someone else would figure it out soon. That fact did nothing to improve my mood or frame of mind. “I shop a lot. You’ve probably seen me around town.”
For all the new-frontier, new-values talk, the members seemed to adhere to traditional gender roles judging from the fact that I found only women in the kitchen preparing dinner. Helen and two pretty girls stood at the counter kneading bread, cutting veggies, and doing dishes. Helen’s face lit up when I entered. “Oh, my universe! You’re back!”
“Uh, yeah, hi,” I said with a little wave.
Helen moved around the counter toward me, pulling me into a warm hug. On instinct I froze up, but I quickly pushed the discomfort away and hugged her back as Carol would. “How are you doing? How are you feeling?” she asked, still hugging me.
“Better. I was up half the night sick as a dog, but I’m good now.” Helen pulled away first. “I came over to apologize. I was mortified by my behavior last night. It was so rude of me to come and go like that.”
“There’s absolutely no need to apologize,” Helen assured me. “None.”
“We’re just glad you came back,” one of the girls, a chubby brunette, said. We’d been introduced, but I couldn’t remember either of their names.
“Paul will be especially,” the blonde with the knife said. “He wouldn’t shut up about you all night.”
“Were you all introduced last night?” Helen asked. “If not, that’s Nessa with the knife, and Britt covered in dough. Guys, this is Carol.”
“We met last night. Hello,” I said.
“You’re staying for dinner, right?” Britt asked, still kneading the dough.
“Of course she is,” Helen said as she wrapped her arm around my waist and pulled me into a side hug. “And I promise it won’t make you sick like that processed junk you’ve no doubt been eating. You may as well be downing straight poison with that trash.”
“After last night, I believe it. I’m just…I-I’d offer to help in the kitchen but when I boil water it lights on fire, so—”
“I’m sure you’re not that bad. Stop putting yourself down all the time,” Helen ordered.
“Yeah, now you have to say two things you like about yourself,” Nessa instructed, “to cleanse the negativity. You should start by saying ‘I’m not a good cook, but…’ ”
I glanced at all three women with their pleasant smiles and realized they were serious. “Okay, uh…I may not be a good cook, but I’m smart and I’m a hard worker.”
“There. Don’t you feel better about yourself now?” Nessa asked, her smile growing.
“Yes,” I lied, my own humble smile stretching. “I-I think I do. Thanks.”
“It’s amazing how little life hacks like that help build your self-confidence and esteem. Right, Helen?” Britt asked.
Helen’s proud smile grew to epic proportions. She wasn’t faking, either. I didn’t have a doubt she genuinely cared for that girl’s well-being without an ulterior motive. A rare trait. “You’ve come so far, sweetie. I am so proud of you.”
Britt’s chubby cheeks turned bright red and she looked away. “Thank you.”
Helen squeezed my waist. “And as for you, we’ll make a chef out of you yet. We’re making two cheese lasagnas with the fresh goat and cheddar cheese Betsy sent from The Apex. It’s all organic and homemade. You will be my sous chef.” She pulled me toward the counter. “I’ve already started. It’s easy. Just layer the pasta, white cheese, then the yellow.” She pushed the two cheese blocks at me. “You’re on grating duty for now.”
After washing my hands with a block of soap I think they made themselves from God knew what, I returned to the cheeses and grater. “Do you make all your own food and ingredients?” I asked.
“We try to,” Nessa
said. “The universe blessed us with Hannah, Betsy, and Ruth. They were some of the first members. They were raised Amish and taught us so much about how to raise livestock and make our own food. It’s so much healthier.”
“Tastes better too,” Helen added.
“And Betsy made the cheese and pasta?” I asked.
“Oh, yeah. She’s amazing in the kitchen.”
“Maybe that’s why Billy likes her,” I said. “They say the way to a man’s heart is his stomach.”
Within five seconds Nessa took the bait. “Do you know Billy?”
“Sort of. He was engaged to my cousin Gia.”
“Oh,” Nessa said.
“I talked to her today. I told her about…them. She was pretty upset. I didn’t know he’d cleared out their bank account. She can’t pay her rent.”
“That’s sad,” Britt said.
“I know he didn’t do that lightly,” Helen said. “But with a baby on the way…they are not cheap.”
“He talked to you about the situation?” I asked Helen.
“Oh. He felt so guilty about straying but elated about the baby. I’m sorry for what your cousin’s going through. I actually quite liked her. She’s strong. She spoke her mind. She even helped me in the kitchen like you are now. And they were integral parts of each other’s paths. That will never change. But their paths have simply diverged. It’s not good, it’s not bad, it just…is. Without their joining together they never would have come here, he never would have met Betsy, and there wouldn’t be a new life on the way. And who knows what that life will contribute to the universe? And when your cousin meets the man she’s meant to reach the end of her path with, and holds their child in her arms because, in part, of what Billy did, her current pain won’t even be a memory.”
“So the ends justify the means?” I asked without thinking.
“No. Of course not. Billy betrayed a trust, and I guarantee he is punishing himself for it,” Helen said.
Darkness at the Edge of Town Page 12