Broken Things (Faded Photograph Series) (30 page)

* * *

“I’ve got to apologize for Ronnie’s comment earlier this afternoon,” Steve said as he walked Jack to his vehicle.

“What’s to apologize for?” Just past eight o’clock, night had fallen. The wind had shifted and now a cool wind blew out of the northwest, tickling a neighbor’s wind chimes and rustling treetops. Fall had arrived and winter wasn’t far off. How would Jack spend his days in the months to come, now that he’d retired? But he pushed the troublesome thought aside for the time being, and looked at his brother.

Steve shrugged in answer to his question. “Ronnie made it sound like Nora and I never say anything nice to her. That’s not true.”

“I know it’s not, but think about it. Sometimes compliments don’t carry much weight when they come from parents.”

“But coming from her uncle they mean more?” Pursing his lips, Steve nodded. “I see your point.”

“To be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever paid much attention to Veronica until today, and that’s my fault. Maybe it’s me who needs to do the apologizing.”

“Naw, forget the past. What matters is you won her over and now you’re even more of a hero than Spiderman!”

Jack grinned. “Yeah, right.”

The two brothers shared a laugh. But Jack felt somewhat flattered that he’d made a positive impression on his niece. She certainly hadn’t been thrilled with him on Labor Day.

“Hey, listen, thanks for everything.” Jack unlocked his SUV.

“Let’s do this again sometime.”

Jack nodded and extended his right hand. Steve clasped it in an affectionate shake. “See ya later.

As he drove home, Jack had to admit that spending time with his family members had been a pleasant surprise. He might even be tempted to do it again next Sunday.

Arriving at his apartment complex, he reached up to the overhead visor and pressed the button on the remote control. Once the garage door had opened, he pulled his vehicle inside.

The telephone rang as he entered through the side door. Jack wasn’t in any hurry to answer it. He sauntered into his bedroom and removed his jacket. The phone stopped. By the time he’d showered, changed into blue jeans and a sweatshirt, it started ringing again.

Portable phone in hand, he pressed the TALK button. “Jack Callahan here.” He blinked. What did he think he was at work or something?

“Jack?”

He halted on his way to the kitchen. “Allie?” A bolt of concern shot through him. “What’s up?”

“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you…” Her tone of voice carried a tremulous note.

“Something wrong? You okay?”

“Yes, I’m okay. But I need to speak with you. It’s important.”

Jack glanced at the phone’s Caller ID. He didn’t recognize the number. “Where are you?”

“I’m at a little coffee place on Central Avenue.”

“I know the one. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

“No, wait…”

Jack paused.

“Under the circumstances, it might be best if I came to your place. I don’t mean to intrude, but the matter I need to discuss with you is terribly personal.”

“Is it about Friday night?” He hoped it was. He hoped Allie had changed her mind.

“No.

His heart felt like a lead weight at her reply. “Just say what you have to say over the phone then.”

When no answer was forthcoming, Jack questioned whether she’d hung up on him. “Allie? Still there?”

“I’m here. I’m just a little upset right now.”

He relented and figured he should just face facts. He would always be a sap where Allie was concerned. “Yeah, okay, come on over. Need directions?”

“Yes.”

Jack told her how to get to his place. Not two minutes after he’d disconnected the call, Logan walked in, whistling some cheery melody.

“Oh, hey, Dad.” Logan paused in the hallway. “Did you have a good afternoon?”

“It was all right.” Jack entered the living room where he began tidying up.

“I was glad to see you back at church tonight.”

“Listen, Allie’s coming over, and―”

“I’d be happy to chaperone,” Logan cut in with a guffaw. “No problem.”

Jack grinned at the wisecrack. “That’s not what I was going to suggest.”

“I know.” He headed for the kitchen. “I’ll make myself scarce. Don’t worry. I’ll just fix a PB and J and go read in my room.”

“Thanks.”

Minutes later, the doorbell sounded, and Jack answered it. He showed Allie into his home and when he saw her face beneath the foyer’s beveled ceiling lamp, he immediately noticed the dark circles under eyes. Had she been crying?

“Rough day?” He took hold of her elbow and escorted her upstairs into the living room.

“A troubling afternoon, that’s for sure!”

“Have a seat.”

Allie set down her purse, then lowered herself onto the couch. Jack sat in the matching armchair. He crossed his leg, ankle to knee, and considered Allie, sitting several feet away. She looked somewhat disheveled.

“Did you have another run-in with Brenda?”

Allie shook her head and smoothed her skirt over her shapely knees. “There’s this lady at Arbor Springs. She’s dying and I befriended her. She’s actually the one behind all the media hype because a CNA physically abused her. He’s no longer employed by Lakeland Enterprises.

“Anyway, I’ve continued to visit this woman because she’s estranged from her family members. It’s largely her own doing, I admit it, but I still feel sorry for her.”

“What’s this got to do with me?”

Allie held up a forestalling hand. “I’m getting there, Jack.”

He tamped down his impatience.

“One of the things this woman has been doing is dwelling on her past. Sometimes when I walk into her room she’s muttering about some song she used to sing back in the sixties. She looks like a ninety-year-old bag of bones, but she’s really only a few years older than I am. Now her liver is failing, so her skin is a sickly yellow. Her name is Cynthia Matlock.”

Jack thought over the name, but it didn’t register. He shrugged, and Allie continued.

“Cynthia has had three failed marriages and apparently she’s been thinking about her ex-husbands.” Allie sucked in a breath. “Her first ex-husband in particular…”

Logan appeared at the doorway. “Hi, Allie.”

She glanced up forced a little smile. “Hi, Logan.”

Jack looked at his son. “I thought you were going to make yourself scarce.”

“I’m on my way to Scarceville right now.” He held up a hand. “G’night.”

“Actually, Logan, you should probably hear this too,” Allie said.

He pivoted and his questioning gaze met Jack’s.

“If that’s what the lady wants, come and join us.”

“Okay, sure.”

Wearing a puzzled expression, Logan entered the living room. Jack moved next to Allie, leaving the armchair for his son.

Allie repeated everything she had just told Jack, catching Logan up on the preface.

“This afternoon when I walked in,” Allie continued, “Cynthia told me she knew who I was. That seemed obvious to me, since I’ve been visiting her for the past month. But then she said that she knew I was…I was ‘the one Jack never could get over.’”

A frown heavy on his brow, Jack peered at her and reran the story through his head. The name…

Suddenly it struck. “Oh, God in heaven,” he muttered, allowing his head to drop back so it rested on the top of the couch. “Cynthia Roxanne Scott.”

“Matlock now.”

Jack lifted his head and stared at Allie. “How in the he―” His conscious pricked him, and he stopped before cursing. “You have a real knack for getting yourself all tangled up in people’s lives, don’t you?”

Allie didn’t reply, but lowered her gaze.

“Dad, um, I don’t think Allie got herself tangled in anything on purpose.”

“Oh, I know it,” he groused. Feeling like a heel, he looked at Allie, but she kept her chin lowered. “I apologize.” He set his hand on hers. “It’s not your fault.”

When she finally lifted her head, the anguished expression on her face crimped his heart.

“Trust me,” she said, “I had no intention of walking into something like this.”

“I believe you.” He slipped his arm around her shoulder and she leaned into him.

Logan cleared his throat. “Pardon my ignorance, but is the woman you’re talking about the same one that I
think
you’re talking about?”

Jack gave her a little squeeze before disengaging himself and pushing to his feet. “No sense in me being in on the rest of this conversation. Allie, I care a great deal about you, but I don’t give a hoot if that woman is dying.” He stepped around the coffee table. “Logan,” he said, glancing over his shoulder, “your search is over. Allie found your mother.”

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-three

 

 

Logan sat forward and set his plate on the coffee table. “No way. You found my biological mother?”

Allie nodded.

“I’ve been scouring the Net for Roxi Scott, Roxanne Scott.” He glanced off into the next room. “Dad could have told me her real name is
Cynthia
.”

Jack appeared in the doorway. “Hey, can I help it that I blocked it out of my memory? Besides, you never asked.” He turned and walked away, leaving Logan shaking his head in his wake.

Allie brushed an errant tear off her cheek. “Logan, your mother’s dying and she doesn’t know the Lord. I’ve told her about Him…” Allie fetched a Kleenex from her purse. “She’s so broken and sad. She’s sorry for leaving you. She told me the whole story this afternoon.”

Logan worked the corner of his lower lip between his teeth. His heart did a somersault at the mention of his mother’s “leaving him” and, as much as he hated to admit it, a measure of insecurity welled up inside him. It was true. He occasionally fretted over his impending marriage, wondering if Marilee would tire of him and leave him. In his soul, he knew she wouldn’t, but his heart was, as the Bible described, “deceitful and desperately wicked.” Satan would surely get a foothold if Logan ceased to fight those ungrounded fears. But if he got a chance to connect with his natural mother, he sensed the battle in that area would be won.

“She meant to come back and get you, but your father wouldn’t allow it,” Allie continued. “Your mom had been arrested for prostitution, except she really didn’t do anything wrong, other than dance at a nightclub behind your dad’s back.” Allie paused. “What am I saying? That’s ‘wrong’ enough, isn’t it.”

“Yeah, it is.” Logan bobbed his head.

“Well, after she lost custody of you, your mother left Illinois and changed her name back to Cynthia. And, Logan, I don’t mean to sound callous or judgmental, but you can count your blessings that she didn’t raise you. She’s told me some of her past and about some of the people she’s been involved with…” Allie gave a wag of her head. “There’s no doubt in my mind that God protected you.”

“I know He did.” Logan had pretty much arrived at that same conclusion on his own. “I have no regrets. Just questions.”

“Maybe she’s the one who can answer them.” Allie toyed with the tissue in her hand. “I asked Cynthia if I could tell you where she is and she said it would be all right. I told her that I planned to tell Jack too. She wasn’t thrilled about that, but she didn’t forbid me to say anything.”

“I want to meet her. I’ve already made up my mind.” Logan inched forward on the chair. “The fact that you’re the one who located my natural mother just makes God’s will all the more clearer to me.” He smiled. “See, I had prayed that the Lord would just drop all the information I needed in my lap. I didn’t want to hurt my dad, even though he said he didn’t care if I tried to find her.”

“That makes me feel a little better. I would like to think that God has used me and that He’ll use this circumstance for good.”

“He will. No doubt about it.”

Allie stood. “I need to warn you, though, you don’t have a lot of time. Before entering Arbor Springs, your mother underwent extensive Chemo treatments. They were hard on her body and, sadly, ineffective. Now the cancer has spread. She’s in a tremendous amount of pain and her major organs are shutting down.”

“How soon can I show up? Tomorrow morning?”

Allie grinned at his enthusiasm. “Visiting hours start at eight a.m.”

“I’ll be there.” Logan accompanied her to the door.

“Oh, and you’ve got two-half sisters. They’re here in the Chicago.

area. And you might have grandparents in Iowa.”

“No kidding?” Logan grinned and let the idea sink in…siblings! Sisters!

“Good night, Logan.”

He gave himself a mental shake. “Night, Allie.”

“Please say goodnight to your dad for me.”

“Will do.” Logan watched her retreating form until she was safely in her car. Stepping back inside, he bolted the door. Awed by everything he’d just learned, he picked up his plate in the living room and made his way back into the kitchen. Dad stood, leaning against the counter, drinking from a can of cola. Logan grinned inwardly, noting it wasn’t a beer in his hand.
Thank You, Jesus!

“Allie sure knows how to drop a bomb. I’ll give her that much,” Dad said. “Every time I’m with her I feel like I get beat up.”

“Sounds like true love to me.” Logan let out a laugh.

“You know, after spending the afternoon with Steve and talking with Veronica, I’ve come to the conclusion that sarcasm runs in our family.”

“I could have told you that long before this afternoon.” Logan chuckled.

“I think we get it from Dad. He was always making wisecracks. Mom would laugh until her sides ached.”

“Grampa? Really?”

“Yeah.”

Several moments of silence passed between father and son. Logan took the opportunity to finish eating his peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Finally Dad spoke up. “So what are you going to do?”

“Visit my biological mother, of course.”

He nodded. “I figured.”

“Do you object?”

“Nope. It’s not my place to object, even if I did.”

“I appreciate it, Dad.”

He frowned. “You know, whether it’s out of paranoia or prophesy, I predict that I’ll wind up the hated enemy when this is all through.”

“Not with me, you won’t,” Logan promised. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. The way I see it, you wanted the best for me and you went out of your way to see that I got it.”

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