Читать книгу Bringing Maddie Home - Janice Johnson Kay - Страница 12

CHAPTER FOUR

“I’M NOT SURE you’d recognize big parts of town even if you hadn’t lost your memory,” Colin said. “Twelve years is a long time.”

Transfixed by the quiet rumble of his voice, Nell clung to her phone. She’d silenced it earlier when she went to her book club, but hated the idea of missing a call from him. She had become so hungry for his calls, she felt pathetic. How embarrassing if he ever knew she had put his photo on her refrigerator door where she could see it when she paced through her small apartment talking to him. This call had started with him wishing her happy birthday—Maddie’s birthday. She was still reeling from knowing when she was really born. The fact that he’d remembered and wanted to call today of all days had brought her close to tears.

“I checked the town out online,” she told him. “To see if anything looked familiar.”

“Did it?”

“Maybe the river. And...and a park.” She had started breathing hard when she looked at those pictures.

“There are only two large parks within city limits.” A new thread in his voice was hard to single out and identify. Compassion? Pity? “Angel Butte and River Park, which combines a couple of picnic areas, a playground, a boat landing for canoes and kayaks, and maybe fifteen acres of old ponderosa forest.”

The always-hovering panic clutched at her throat. “That’s where you found my bike.”

“Yes.”

She didn’t know why her hands were shaking. Whatever happened was a long time ago. Of course she knew it was that park. And didn’t she want answers?

I don’t know. No. Maybe.

She focused on his face in the newspaper photo she could have seen clearly even with her eyes closed. Those watchful, penetrating eyes made her feel safe.

Which didn’t mean she wanted to talk about this anymore.

“You’ve never said where you grew up.” He had promised—hadn’t he?—to let her get to know him so that she could trust him. He’d been keeping that promise, although in their four previous conversations he had mostly told her about his job and some of his frustrations. Otherwise, they’d talked about unimportant things. Their plans for Thanksgiving, the way they celebrated holidays in general, national politics, music, movie and book tastes. It had occurred to her they’d had the kind of conversations that newly dating couples had.

“I grew up right here,” he said simply. “If I didn’t think of Angel Butte as home, I’d have looked for another job a long time ago.”

“But you said your sister is here in Seattle.”

He was silent for a moment, making her wonder if this were more personal than he wanted to get.

He promised, she told herself stubbornly.

“My parents divorced when I was sixteen and Cait was only ten. My mother has moved around some. Cait ended up going to Whitman College, and she’s now in grad school at the UW.”

Nell nodded; she’d finished her B.A. at the University of Washington, which also had one of the nation’s top graduate programs in library and information science. She had been saving, but the idea of not being able to work more than part-time for the two years it would take her to earn her master’s degree made her cautious.

“The divorce was bitter,” he said, before she could ask an innocuous question, like what his sister was studying. “I didn’t see much of them after that.”

He’d closed up, as if he were reluctant to betray emotion.

“Why?” she asked, then flushed with shame. “I’m sorry. That’s really nosy of me. I can tell you don’t want to talk about it, and it really isn’t any of my business.”

“That’s not true, Nell. I want us to be friends. The fact that I know so much about you has got to make you uneasy. I’ve been hoping we can find a better balance.”

Uneasy? What a weak word to describe this complex brew. It bubbled in her chest, sometimes barely simmering, sometimes reaching a furious boil that splattered her painfully and threatened to overflow.

He didn’t wait for her to respond. Instead, he went on.

“I haven’t spoken to my mother in, oh, seven or eight years and not often before that. I hated my father, and she chose to take my sister but not me when she left.”

“You hated your father?” And he had lost his mother, too.

“He abused my mother and beat me. I...tried to protect her, and most of all Cait, but it wasn’t always possible. I was as big as he was by the time I was fourteen or fifteen, and I quit taking it. We fought, sometimes physically. Punched holes in the walls, threw furniture. I suspect that, by the time my mother worked up the nerve to leave him, she associated me with the violence as much as she did Dad.”

“So she saved herself and not you.”

“That’s what she did,” he said flatly. “I forgave her in one way, because she did save Cait, too.”

“I can’t imagine abandoning my own child.”

She could hear him breathing. Somehow she wasn’t surprised when he managed a wry chuckle. “By that age I was hairy, six feet tall, uncommunicative and angry all the time. Probably didn’t bear much resemblance to her little boy.”

“Still.” Nell pictured boys she’d gotten to know at SafeHold. Rebellious, obscene, angry and, yes, violent, but also bewildered—the vulnerable boys still visible beneath the troubled teenagers.

“Still,” Colin echoed, and she heard that same bewilderment in his voice, although she doubted he was aware of it.

“I’m surprised you didn’t run away.”

“Crossed my mind, but I was too proud. I vowed never to back down. If he beat me bloody every day, I wasn’t going to surrender one iota of defiance and hate.” Colin was all man now, sardonic and almost amused at the idiot boy who had set himself up for such brutality. “Kept my vow, too.”

“What happened?” she asked.

“Finally left for college—none too soon—at Portland State University. Started out thinking I was pre-law, but after a few courses in criminal justice, I was sucked in. The couple of times cops came to our house, I saw that Dad was intimidated by them. I guess there’s nothing subtle about my choice.”

Nell found herself smiling. “No.”

“Fortunately, I got over the swaggering ‘I am armed and more powerful than you’ phase quickly. I hadn’t been home in four years. I’m sure I took the job in Angel Butte because I wanted to face down the monster from my childhood, but...”

Nell didn’t say anything, only waited for him to think through how much he wanted to share, or perhaps choose the right words to describe how he had felt.

“While I was gone I’d grown, or he’d shrunk, I was never sure which. No surprise, he was a heavy drinker and was showing the effects by that time. He owned a tavern when I was growing up, but he’d lost it. Angel Butte was changing, brew pubs were already hot and his place was dimly lit, unwelcoming to women, homey only to intolerant sons of bitches like him. Business declined and he had to give up. Ended up bartending for someone else—finally lost that job, too. He was a heavy smoker and died of lung cancer four years ago.”

“I’m sorry,” Nell said simply.

“Don’t be. I’m sorriest that Cait and I are strangers. She’s the one part of my family I’d have liked to keep.”

Nell had an unsettling thought. “She must have been close in age to me.”

Was she wrong in hearing an undertone to this silence?

“She is,” he agreed at last.

“I wonder if we knew each other. If we were ever in a class together.”

“That...never occurred to me. I suppose you might have been.” He sounded a little disturbed at the idea.

Nell’s pulse quickened. “She might have recognized me, if we’d happened to run into each other.”

“From when you were ten years old? I doubt it.”

“I’d have been safer if I’d moved farther away. I told myself I didn’t know where I was from, but...” She tried to reach for calm, even though this touched on the fear that had always lived inside her: What if someone recognizes me? “I suppose I wasn’t very brave. I was running away but clinging to the familiar at the same time.”

“Most kids who run away get hauled home. The ones who don’t often stay on the streets. They don’t go to college, build a solid life for themselves. If they manage to find that kind of security, they don’t reach out to help kids as lost as they were. Don’t tell me you weren’t brave, Nell.” His voice roughened at the end, making it hard for her to form a rebuttal.

“Don’t make me out to be more than I am,” she said at last. “I did things...”

“Yeah.” Now she heard a tenderness she had no defense against. “I know you must have. Fifteen years old and afraid to turn to any adult? How much choice did you have?”

Did he really understand what she’d been trying to tell him? Nell couldn’t tell, and lost the courage to elaborate. She didn’t even know if it mattered. Maybe it didn’t matter what she had done. Maddie Dubeau was the one he longed to bring home, not Nell Smith. She couldn’t afford to let herself forget that.

“I should go,” she said. “I’m working in the morning.”

“I suppose I should get to bed, too. I’ve probably dumped enough on you for one night anyway.”

“You didn’t dump. I asked.” She hesitated, then closed her eyes. “Thank you. For telling me all that. It helps, knowing your life hasn’t been trouble-free, either. Which means I’m not nearly as good a person as you’re trying to make me out to be. I should wish you had a perfect childhood with a loving family, and you made all that up to convince me we were, I don’t know, fellow travelers.”

He laughed. Really laughed, rich and deep. “I’m not trying to fit you for a halo, Nell.”

“I’m not an angel. Don’t call me that.”

She was as shocked at her sharpness as he must have been.

“I won’t,” he said after a discernible pause. “It didn’t occur to me.” He was soothing her again, much as he had that night he frightened her in the parking lot. Using his voice to convince her he was harmless, that he would never hurt her.

She wondered if his mother had been afraid of him.

Breathing fast again, she said, “I really have to go.”

“Would it help if I came back to Seattle, so we could talk face-to-face?”

Yes. Oh, yes. Please. As her lips formed the words, her eyes stung. She was torn between a desperate desire to see him again and terror that was just as strong. His willingness to let her take their conversations at her own pace had been the reassurance she’d needed. If he had pushed too hard, insisted on trying to delve into her memories, or had shown up unexpectedly, she would have known she couldn’t trust him.

“No,” she made herself say. “I like talking to you, but...”

“All right, Nell. I promised. No pressure. I just find...” He hesitated. “I’d like to see your face, that’s all.”

Her shakiness wasn’t only about panic now. She wanted to see his face, too.

“You’ve been really patient.” He had been. “Given me a huge amount of time. There must be a million things you’d rather be doing.”

“No.” The certainty in his voice was rock-solid. “There is nothing I want more than to help you feel ready to come home.”

Would she ever feel ready?

A sound slipped out that might have been a laugh.

No. Facing her past would be harder than anything she’d done since she escaped from the trunk of the car and shivered her way through that cold night, not knowing who or where she was, only that she didn’t dare go back.

But Nell knew again that if she didn’t reclaim the part of her that was Maddie she would be continuing to live only half a life. Now that she knew she was also Maddie, now that she’d seen pictures of her parents and even the house where she’d grown up, she couldn’t block out the past the way she had.

“I think,” she heard herself say in a voice that shook, “I might come to Angel Butte.”

“Home.”

“I don’t know if it’s home. Nothing I do remember makes me think it is. But maybe...maybe whatever or whoever I was running away from will have shrunk like your dad did. I want to find out there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore.”

He said some things—how glad he was she had made the decision, how gutsy he thought she was—but most important he renewed his promise not to tell anyone about her, not to warn a soul that she was coming.

One of the things he said shook her a little because he delivered it so thoughtfully. “It might be interesting to see how people react to your reappearance.”

“I have to get time off from work,” she said. “I’ll let you know.”

After they’d said good-night and ended the call, Nell discovered she was sitting on the kitchen floor, very close to the corner, her back to the cupboard, her knees drawn up tight.

“Gutsy,” she said aloud, and laughed until she cried.

* * *

TOO ANTSY TO sit behind his desk, Colin killed an hour watching the SWAT team train, went by a house where an ugly domestic scene had occurred the night before and finally simply drove the streets of his town.

He wasn’t fit company right now. Knowing Nell was on her way worked like the most powerful shot of caffeine he’d ever had. His heart kept racing and occasionally thudding out of sequence. It felt like Christmas morning when he was young, before his father’s drinking and temper tainted every family occasion. A couple of times he caught a glimpse of himself in the rearview mirror and discovered he was grinning like a fool.

Not something he wanted anyone to catch him doing. If he’d hung around the station, he might have come face-to-face with Duane. Usually Colin prided himself on his ability to hide what he was thinking. He doubted he’d succeed today, especially with a man who knew him well.

Yesterday he’d been okay, even though he’d known Nell was planning to leave after she got off work. He’d made it home before he started envisioning her car like an electronic blip on his mental screen. Leaving heavy downtown Seattle traffic. Hitting Tacoma. An empty stretch, then Olympia. Had she reached Chehalis yet? He wondered if she’d made reservations at a Portland hotel, or had waited to spot one at a freeway exit and gambled on vacancies.

“I know I could make the drive in one day,” she had told him, “but I’d rather it be daylight when I get there.”

He didn’t blame her. Given that she would be arriving on the first of December, she was nervous about driving on snowy roads and would rather cross the Cascades in the morning when she was fresh. Colin had checked weather reports last night and again first thing this morning. It sounded as if Highway 26 had been plowed where it climbed high by Mount Hood. He hoped she’d stop for coffee and even lunch rather than pressing on.

At lunchtime, he finally called his assistant and told her he was taking half a day. As useless as he was, he might as well make his absence official.

Just after one, Nell called.

“I’m on the outskirts.” She sounded tense. “You’re right, I wouldn’t have recognized a thing. There’s a Walmart here.”

“Walmart is everywhere. And yes, we have a half mile stretch filled with chain stores and restaurants, pretty much like every other city in America.”

“Did you make a reservation for me?”

“Why don’t you meet me at my house?” he suggested. “I’m there now.”

Her hesitation was brief. He gave her directions and paced while waiting, one ear cocked for the sound of a car in his driveway.

He had the front door open before she came to a stop. She drove a peanut of a car—a Ford Focus, the one she’d backed right up to in the parking lot at the library.

As if he gave a damn. Part of him couldn’t believe she was here. But the driver’s side door opened, and there she was, just as he remembered her from the library, unmistakably Maddie Dubeau. Her warm brown eyes were wary, but the young Maddie hadn’t looked on the world with much faith, either.

Seeing her this time was different, though. He’d felt a punch that evening at the library because, damn, he’d found Maddie. But getting to know her during their long phone conversations had complicated his thinking. The woman he was looking at now wasn’t Maddie grown up. She was a woman named Nell, who had amazing cheekbones, legs a mile long and a build he thought was a little short-waisted to make up for those legs. He was surprised by her lush mouth, something that either had changed since she was a teenager, or hadn’t shown in those photos because she kept her lips pressed together so tightly.

He was attracted to her. Nonplussed, Colin did his best to shut it down. She’s Maddie Dubeau. This isn’t personal.

It was all he could do not to wince at the inner jeering. Still, the lecture had worked to an extent. Maddie. She was Maddie.

“You made it.” Despite the evidence before his eyes, he still fought a disbelief that mixed with his newly confused feelings.

She made a face at him. “I swear my knuckles were white driving over the pass by Mount Hood.”

“Wasn’t it plowed?”

“Yes, but it was still icy and there were snowbanks to each side so I couldn’t even pull over and let drivers by who wanted to go faster.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “You could have flown in.”

“No, I’ll need my car.” She turned to look around her. “This is really nice. I pictured you in town.”

“I wanted privacy.” He only had an acre, but that was enough. His chalet-style house was built on a ridge of exposed lava and shielded by ponderosa pines younger and smaller than those in the park. He’d encouraged native growth, too. One of his jobs growing up had been mowing the lawn. He could live without ever mowing again.

“Come on in,” he said. “Coffee is ready.”

When she stepped inside his house, her eyes widened. “It’s beautiful.”

Outside, he had thought she’d been pretending to be interested. Now she didn’t look as if she were faking it anymore. Nell’s scrutiny made him self-conscious and Colin glanced around. “I haven’t done much decorating.”

“With that fireplace and those windows, it doesn’t need much.”

The river-rock fireplace had sold him on the house, though the vast expanses of glass hadn’t hurt even though he had known they would raise his heating bill substantially. The view from here looked northwest, toward a spine of mountains. It even caught a snippet of Mount Bachelor.

The floors were broad planks of chestnut. Low built-in bookcases formed a long seat beneath one wall of windows. The ceiling-high river rock took up most of another wall, with an ancient slab of wood inset as a mantel. He’d hung a Navajo rug above it instead of a painting.

Nell disappeared to use the bathroom while he poured the coffee in the kitchen that opened to the huge living room. When she reappeared, he saw the stress on her face that she’d been trying to hide.

She added both cream and sugar to her mug, then perched on a stool at the breakfast bar. Colin sipped his own coffee and watched her.

“My parents have a house right on the river.”

“I know. You remember it?”

“Not exactly.” She stirred, gazing into her coffee as if seeking patterns in tea leaves instead. “I looked them up online, then used Google Earth to see the house. I guess I’ve retained enough fragments that the house didn’t surprise me.”

“It’s not far from the park.”

“So it makes sense that I was cutting through on my way to wherever I was going.”

“Yes. Except that it was dark and you hadn’t told your parents you were going anywhere.”

Her eyes, strangely blind-looking, met his. “Are you sure about that?”