“I’m sorry, honey,” the nurse said, talking to her like a child like everyone here did. “All your meals will be served in your room.”
“In here?” Shannon looked around. “But why can’t I eat with everyone else?”
“It’s for your own good.” The nurse’s brown eyes softened. “And you will be with others. We play games together, paint pretty pictures, go outside on nice days and—”
“Noooo!” Shannon screamed, as she bolted into her on her way to the door, sending the nurse to the floor.
The bodyguard grabbed Shannon, turned her around and pinned her to his chest.
“Let me go.” Shannon tried to kick and bite him, but he knew how to hold onto her without getting hurt.
The nurse searched for the pills that were scattered across the floor, picked up the spilled cup of water, and put them into her pocket. Standing in front of Shannon, she took out a syringe from her other pocket and held it up. She pulled off the protective cover, exposing the long needle.
“Please, no,” Shannon pleaded. “I’ll be good, I promise.” Panic stricken she fought to get away, but the bodyguard held her tight as the nurse swabbed her thigh with a cotton ball, and quickly gave her the shot.
Immediately, Shannon’s muscles relaxed and her body grew limp.
As she was covered up in bed, the nurse stroked Shannon’s hair. “It’s going to be okay, I promise. We’ll take real good care of you here.”
“When… when will I out of here?” Shannon's eyes were heavy, her speech slurred.
“This is your new home now.” The nurse’s words were garbled.
“Sad that these people will spend the rest of their lives here.” She heard the man whisper when the door opened.
“But at least in confinement they won’t be able to hurt themselves or anyone else.”
Unable to move, a tear travel slowly down Shannon’s cheek.
She knew how these things worked and knew she would never be free again.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
“MOMMY, ARE WE ALMOST THERE?”
Charlie turned in her seat and looked at Mira who was in the backseat of the cab. Her hair was starting to grow back and sprouts of two-to-three-inch fine blonde hair stuck out from her head. “Just a couple more hours, honey.”
Mira looked healthy again, with pink cheeks and clear blue eyes. Charlie noticed that Hank was curled up next to her and remembered the nights when the he refused to sleep with her, knowing it wasn’t Mira.
She opened her window, letting the fresh spring breeze tickle her face. They’d waited two and a half months to make the trip to Kentucky, giving Mira time to gain back her strength.
It was mid-April and the leaves were starting to bud. Their first family trip together felt bittersweet knowing they were going to Winston’s home but he wouldn’t be there.
“Why are we going to this place anyway?” Mira asked.
“Because a friend of ours gave us his cabin to enjoy,” Charlie answered.
“How come I don’t know him?” Mira asked.
Charlie looked to Clint.
“Because your mother and I knew him a long time ago,” Clint answered without missing a beat. “Before you were born.”
“There’s a big lake there. Maybe Daddy will take you fishing,” Charlie said, hoping Mira wouldn’t ask more questions about Winston.
Mira clapped her hands, her eyes growing wide. “Yay!”
Charlie caught herself staring at Mira, but thinking about Faith. There wasn’t a day that had gone by that she didn’t think about Faith. Every night, she’d prayed that Faith would give her a sign that she was all right, but that had yet to happen.
When they crossed the Kentucky state line it was like being zapped into another world. The skies looked bluer, the grass greener, and the highways wider and cleaner. As they passed sprawling estates that were miles apart, Charlie pointed out horse stables that were smaller clones of the large homes down to the color of the shutters.
“It’s beautiful here,” Charlie said.
Clint glanced over at her. “Looks like everyone who lives in Kentucky is rich.”
“And has horses,” Charlie added.
“Are we almost there?” Mira asked again.
“According to the map, we’re about twenty minutes away,” Clint said.
“I have to go really, really bad,” Mira whined.
“You want us to stop, honey?” Charlie asked seeing Mira squirm.
But Mira had already moved on to the next question, “Daddy, can we get a pony?”
“No,” Clint answered. “Not a chance.”
Charlie didn’t believe him, as Clint gave in to Mira’s wishes more often than not. “I’m not taking care of it,” she said.
Clint laughed. “Duly noted.”
She stared out the windshield, marveling at the rolling, green hills dotted in regal pines.
Clint nodded at a sign. “There’s the sign for Lexington. We need to watch for the highway 53 exit.”
A few minutes later Charlie pointed. “There it is.”
Clint turned onto the exit and within minutes took a right onto a narrow dirt road.“I hope this is right.”
As they merged deeper and deeper into what looked like a thick forest, Charlie squinted through the foliage, but didn’t see any houses. “Are you sure this is it? Because I don’t see— Stop!” she shouted at the same time she rammed her hands against the dashboard. “Mira, hang on!”
Clint slammed on the brakes, the truck swerved to the right, left, and back again as Mira let out a scream.
“What the hell?” Clint said when a deer and fawn gracefully sprinted across the road. “How did you see them coming?”
Charlie tried to catch her breath, turned around and checked on Mira. “You okay, sweetheart?”
“I hit my head on the window.” Mira rubbed her forehead. “It hurts.”
Charlie placed hand on Mira’s thigh. “Let me see.”
Mira leaned forward and Charlie saw a red mark, but no bump. She patted her leg. “I’m sorry, sweetie. We’ll put some ice on it when we get to the house.”
“Okay.” Mira sniveled.
“Charlie, what the hell just happened? How could you have possibly spotted those deer?” Clint asked again. “This place is like a jungle.”
Charlie’s heart thundered in her chest. Everything had happened so fast. She’d seen someone standing in the middle of the road and caught a fleeting look at his face.
“I caught them out of the corner of my eye.” She couldn’t tell Clint, let alone Mira, that she’d seen Winston’s ghost.
“Well, then you have super powers to see through all those trees and bushes.”
“Hank’s on the floor,” Mira whined. “And he doesn’t look happy.”
Charlie was grateful for Mira’s interruption. “Oh Hank, are you okay?” she asked. She leaned over, picked him up and set him back down next to Mira.
Hank let out a sad growl.
“It’s okay,” Charlie soothed, patting the top of his head. “You’re okay.”
Clint started back down the road. “We dodged a bullet.”
Charlie eyes moved through the thick bushes and trees, searching for Winston.
“You okay?” Clint asked. “You look a little pale.”
“Just scared me. We could have killed a fawn.”
“And the two of them could have demolished the truck or hurt one of us.”
“True,” she agreed, again trying to end the conversation.
Chewing her thumbnail, she rationalized that her imagination was working overtime. But from the ponytail, to his small stature, Charlie had no doubt that Winston had warned her about the deer.
“Daddy,” Mira said. “Are there big ole growly bears here too?”
“I hope not. But if you see one, don’t invite him in,” Clint teased.
“So not funny.” Charlie moved a hand up and down her arm, trying to rub the goose bumps away. “There’s the lake, Mira
.” She turned around to watch Mira’s expression. “Can you see it?”
Mira pressed her cheek against the window. “A little bit.”
Clint turned into a rock driveway and wound back into the woods. Seconds later, he parked in front of a log cabin.
“Is this it?” Charlie’s eyes landed on the two bright red Adirondack rocking chairs on the front porch. “It looks wonderful.”
“According to the map that Winston’s lawyer sent, it is.”
“Well, we need to make sure we’re not trespassing.” Charlie opened the car door and, as she started up the steps to the porch of the log cabin, she noticed a piece of weathered wood hanging to the right side of the door. When she read the plaque with the words, “Winston and Saul’s Home Sweet Home,” she waved to Clint who was helping Mira out of the truck. “This is it.”
“Look Mira.” Charlie pointed behind Mira. “You can see the lake now.”
“Whoa!” Mira’s face lit up. “That looks like a big ocean.”
Clint put the key in the lock and opened the door. “Let’s go check it out.”
“I’ll be along in a minute,” Charlie said. She was still in shock after seeing Winston. Looking out over the lake that was only a few hundred feet away from the house, she remembered what she’d read about Deer Creek Lake on the internet. It was a quiet lake, with only fishing boats allowed. The setting shouted peace and privacy, the two words Winston cherished most.
She drew in a deep breath of clean fresh air. Now Charlie knew for sure that the few times that Winston had come to her in her dreams he was trying to tell her that he was watching over their family. She tilted her head back and looked through the tree branches at the sky. “Thank you, my friend,” she whispered.
“Charlie?” Clint called. “You coming?”
Charlie looked around one more time, hoping she’d spot Winston before she went inside.
The great room was as rustic as the outside, with walls paneled in knotty pine, plank flooring, and exposed trusses on the soaring A-framed ceiling. The furnishings were modest with a leather brown couch that sat under a large picture window with a view of the lake and two La-Z-Boy chairs facing a massive boulder rock fireplace.
Open to the great room was the square kitchen with an abundance of cupboards with no doors that displayed mugs, crystal, and china. A wrought iron rack hanging over the center island held copper pots and pans in every size and shape. Winston had told Charlie that Saul was quite the chef. “This place is—”
“Incredible,” Clint finished her sentence.
Mira did a little dance in the middle of the room. “I have to go to the bathroom.”
Clint nodded toward the hallway. “I’m sure there’s a bathroom down there.”
As Charlie gazed out the picture window she felt Clint’s strong arms go around her waist and relaxed back into his broad chest.
“We’re going to make some beautiful memories here,” Clint told her.
“I think Mom and Dad would love it here.”
“Maybe over Thanksgiving we’ll bring them here.” He kissed the top of her head.
She turned around to face him, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed him sweetly.
“I can’t believe this is really ours,” Clint said.
The photos on the mantel behind Clint caught Charlie’s attention.
She walked around him to the fireplace and picked up a picture. “This must be Saul.” She stared down at a beaming Winston standing next to a tall, burly man with a full head of curly salt-and-pepper hair.
“Mommy?” Mira asked, scampering back into the great room. “Can Daddy take me to see the ocean?”
Charlie raised an eyebrow at Clint.
“I’ll watch her,” Clint promised.
“Be careful.” Charlie carefully placed the photo back where she’d found it and strolled to the screen door. It warmed her heart to see Mira holding Clint’s hand and skipping beside him. Hank lollygagged after them, his short legs stopping every few feet to do his duty on a tree trunk.
Charlie started down the hall to check out the rest of the house and stopped in front of a collage of pictures. Most of the photos were of Winston and Saul, but a couple of them were of Winston with an older man and woman who Charlie assumed were his parents. His mother had perfectly coifed white hair with a dainty pearl necklace around her neck. Winston’s father looked dapper in a gray three-piece suit, white shirt, and tasteful tie. Winston resembled his father, but had his mother’s kind eyes.
His parents had given Winston a solid, loving childhood, but it was Saul who’d brought the whimsical and unexpected into his life. Charlie had no doubt that if Winston were standing next to her right now he’d tell her he’d didn’t regret one moment of his life.
Sliding glass doors in the large master bedroom opened to a half-moon concrete patio. The four poster bed looked like an antique with a massive, intricately carved headboard.
She ran her hand over the dark green bedspread that felt like velvet. Two cushy, round-backed chairs upholstered in a fabric swirled in burnt orange, forest green, and chocolate brown took up one corner of the room. The woodsy, warm colors throughout Winston’s home were warm and welcoming.
Charlie couldn’t help but smile when she opened the door to the walk-in closet and saw Winston’s clothes were not only perfectly pressed, but arranged by color. He’d been a perfectionist, down to his polished shoes and manicured nails.
The master bath looked newer than the rest of the house. The fixtures were modern and an oversized whirlpool tub was positioned in front of a Palladian window that framed yet another breathtaking view.
On her way out the door, she glanced back at the patio, envisioning Saul and Winston sitting in the rattan chairs toasting each other with a glass of wine.
She moved through the house slowly, taking everything in. In Winston’s office, the bookcases were filled with novels about psychics and mediums. She picked up the gold letter opener on his mahogany desk, wondering if he’d used it to open her letter.
She started back down the hall, past a guest bathroom and opened the closed door across from the master bedroom. When she stepped inside, she gasped. “Oh, my God.”
Above the double windows were the words “Mira’s Room” written in a childlike font, each letter painted in a different primary color.
Tears filled her eyes as she slowly turned full circle, her eyes moving over the colorful mural: A two-story home with a wide front porch that looked like their home in Iowa. puffy white clouds in blue skies hung above tall cornstalks… Mira’s swing set… her sandbox… the John Deere tractor, even Hank sitting next to Mira, her fine hair pulled back into a ponytail.
Charlie moved closer to the caricature of herself in cutoffs and tennis shoes standing by the clothesline, her light-brown hair tousled and then to Clint wearing a Hawkeyes cap standing on the stoop at their back door.
“Winston,” she whispered. “I can’t believe you did this.”
Thinking back, she remembered him snapping photos of the house, and had asked Charlie if she had any pictures that were taken of the house in the summer. He’d told her that he wanted to put them into his memory book, but now she knew he’d sent them to an artist, feeling a premonition that he would never come back to Kentucky.
If there’d been furniture in the bedroom, Winston had had it removed so that Mira could decorate her new room.
She wiped away tears as she closed the door thinking that she’d never met anyone like Winston Fry, the third. And Charlie knew she would never meet anyone like him again.
She made her way back to the great room and stepped out onto the front porch. After she brushed the brittle leaves off one of the rockers, Charlie sat down. Finding Clint, she saw Mira kneeling next to the water’s edge.
When two people appeared beside them, Hank began to bark, circling around behind the strangers. Charlie was about to shout at Clint to calm the dog down when she saw him reach down and pat Hank. He stopped barking but cont
inued to prance around the couple, his tail wagging.
A few minutes later, Charlie went back inside. She rummaged through the kitchen drawers until she found a notepad and pen. She pulled one of the two stools out from under the island that separated the kitchen from the great room and sat down trying to think what they would need for the next few days.
“Mommy.” Mira rushed through the door, out of breath, her eyes like saucers. “I saw a big, big fish.”
Charlie smiled. “You did?”
“We did,” Clint answered, following Mira inside.
“Uh-huh, and Hank’s all wet.” Mira giggled and looked down at the sopping-wet dog.
“Oh, Hank.” Charlie jumped down off the stool. She leaned over and took hold of his collar. “Oh no you don’t, buddy.” She tugged Hank back out the door. “You dry off out here.”
Mira followed Charlie out the door. “I’ll stay with Hank.
“Don’t leave the porch, Mira,” Charlie told Mira.
“I won’t.”
“Want me to go pick up some groceries?” Clint asked
“That would be great, thanks. I’m almost done with the list.” She started to tell him about Mira’s bedroom, but decided against it. Charlie wanted Mira to think she’d discovered it first.
She went back to the counter and continued to jot down groceries. “Who were the people you were talking to?”
“Where?”
“Down by the lake.”
“I didn’t see anyone.”
Charlie looked up. “I saw two people beside you and Mira. Looked like an older couple.”
“Well, they must be invisible because I didn’t see them.”
“You messin’ with me, because Hank was barking at them.”
“Huh?” Clint took a glass out of a cupboard and turned on the spigot.
Charlie massaged her forehead with two fingers, stood, and walked to the front window. “Must have been your shadows I guess.” She wasn’t going to argue.
When she turned back around, her eyes landed on the photo of Saul and Winston and it came to her.
The two people Charlie had seen by the lake had a noticeable height difference. And one of them had a full head of graying hair.
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