Down the Hidden Path (10 page)

She tried unsuccessfully to corral the strands. Her head dropped, but it didn’t stop Miah from seeing what lay inside. Fear, in her eyes, flashing from her being.

He turned her to face him. “When things are good, what?”

She tipped her head back and examined the sky. “Something always seems to mess it up.”

He used his hands to help her corral the hair. “That doesn’t sound like the Gray I know.”

She nodded. “Used to know.”

“She’s still in there.”

“No, Miah. I’m a different person now.” It almost seemed as though she were pleading with him to understand.

“We change, we grow. We don’t turn into someone else.”

She drew a breath. “I did.”

“Yeah, a mom.”

Horror shot into her gaze; her face paled.

“Gray, I just meant that you sounded like a mom warning her kids earlier. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
What the heck was that?

She swallowed, mouth a straight line. “No. It just surprised me. You know, I’m not the motherly type.”

Well, that was debatable. But he’d obviously said the wrong thing. Maybe Gray had lost a child. He didn’t know; she was so mysterious about the past several years. He’d try to find out more once she got home from her little trip with David. Until then, he’d just have to wonder.

Gray gazed out the kitchen window of the lovely four-bedroom house. It sat in a gated community in Laver, where the sky above had started dropping beautiful, fat snowflakes. The scent of fresh cookies filled the kitchen while the oven timer counted down the minutes to hot snickerdoodles.

David glanced up from the table. “Do you think it’s too early to start looking at colleges?”

Gray stopped at his chair and peered over his shoulder. “You’re twelve.”

“So that’s a yes?”

“David, you’re going to get a full ride from whatever school you choose. You’re super smart. But a lot of factors can change between now and then.” Colleges? Really?

“Like what?”

“Your interests.”

“Gray,” he deadpanned. “I’ve loved science and space travel since I was a kid.”

She bit her cheek. He was still a kid, but she saw no reason to mention the fact. “I think you’ll always love it, but you may like other things as well.”

He shrugged. “Maybe. Hey, I ordered a charm bracelet for Mom for her birthday next week.”

“Great idea. She’s been dropping hints for months.” They were planning a small party to mark the occasion. Gray and Bill were handling the arrangements.

“Yeah. She’s all about subtle.” He popped a hunk of cookie dough in his mouth.

“Raw eggs, David. Don’t make me hide the dough from you.”

“Don’t make me wait so long for cookies.”

“These are for your folks. Remember?”

His grin was quick and sly. “Of course. It was my idea to make cookies.
All
for them.”

She pointed the spatula at him and closed one eye. “You know, the older you get, the more devious you seem to become.”

A knock at the front door ended the conversation. Gray hurried to put the spatula on the counter. “Must be them.”

“Nah. They wouldn’t knock. They’d just come in.”

She was getting ready to argue that perhaps they’d lost their house key when David pulled the door open to find a police officer standing on the other side. He smiled, but Gray froze in place. When the officer removed his hat from his head, Gray took a firm hold on the doorframe. Her heart pounded in her ears and cold wind rushed in, slamming her in the face. Her hand instinctively came around David’s shoulder.

He peered at the officer, then asked, “Is this about the kids down the road? My mom called you guys last week. They were drag racing in front of our house, but I didn’t think it was any big deal.”

The officer smiled. “No, son.” His eyes trailed to Gray. “Is this the Olson residence?”

“Yes.”

He was holding something in his hand. It looked like a driver’s license. When he tapped it against his other hand, Gray saw that it was Bill’s. Oh no.

“May I come in?”

She moved out of the way and wasn’t sure if it was better for David to be there with her or not. But her fingers were in a vise grip on his shoulder. “Has something happened?”

“Yes, ma’am. There’s been an accident.”

The contents of Gray’s stomach began to churn. She looked at David.

His face clouded, the heaviness of the moment settling in. “Did someone get hurt?” David asked. His eyes, now filling with fear, shot from Gray to the officer and back again. “Are my mom and dad okay?”

“Your mother is in the hospital, son.”

“My dad?”

Words were useless when the officer’s demeanor said everything he wasn’t. “I’m very sorry. As a result of his injuries, your dad died at the scene.”

CHAPTER 6

“My dad’s . . . dead?”

Gray sucked a sharp breath. This . . .
this
was how tragic news was delivered to a twelve-year-old? David’s face turned white, ghost white, and Gray was scared to touch him for fear he might shatter.

But the horror of what the police officer had said caused her to reach out and capture David in a hug. He didn’t hug her back; he felt stiff, in shock, not even breathing.

The officer pointed to his car. “I’d be glad to drive you to the hospital. Mrs. Olson was asking for David. I think it’d be good for him to be there. Also, she said you have a temporary guardianship document? Please bring it if you don’t want CPS involved.”

As he spoke, she had to decipher each word, break them down syllable by syllable as if English were a second language. “Yes. Of course.” She stumbled to the small table to the right of the front door, her gaze narrowing to a tiny tunnel before her. Temporary Guardianship. It was a paper they were never supposed to have to use. The wooden drawer groaned as she pulled it open and retrieved the paper that gave her guardianship of David in an emergency. She stared at it blankly. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was for a worst-case scenario. She sucked a full breath when she realized this was exactly that. Gray tried to focus. There were other things she’d need. A purse, keys. For some reason, all of that escaped her as she attempted to pull things together enough to get David to his mother. It was a good thing the officer was there. She’d never be able to drive right now. “I just need . . .” She glanced around the room as if it would anchor her and tell her what to do.

David moved to the officer’s side. His eyes were wide, an unnatural line drawing his mouth tight.

The officer pointed down. “You’ll want your shoes, ma’am.”

Gray looked at her feet. Socks, no shoes. She had shoes. Where were they?

As if she were a robot, she gathered her things.

“I smell something cooking. Is the oven on?” The officer was patient, but the strength of his voice helped power her, her body having gone on complete shutdown.

“Yes,” she answered.

David absently tugged his coat from the hall closet and the officer wrapped it around him. “We’re making cookies for my parents.”

Tears began to flow unbidden down Gray’s cheeks. The streams of moisture created a sort of cocoon, refining her scattered thoughts. Basic necessities flashed through her mind. She needed to turn the oven off. Gray disappeared into the kitchen and returned with the oven mitt still on her hand. David removed it for her and placed it by the door. With the policeman at their sides, they walked to the squad car. When David was tucked inside the back of the patrol car, Gray caught the officer’s arm as she closed the car door. “What happened?” she whispered.

The officer glanced inside the car where David sat staring straight ahead. “A furniture truck struck Mr. Olson’s car.”

Gray kept David tucked under her arm as the nurses and doctors made their way in and out of Angie’s room. Gray couldn’t see inside from their vantage point, but the rush of people and the intense concern on each face let her know the battle was just beginning for Angie.

“We’re getting her cleaned up,” a nurse told Gray in a half whisper, as if David wouldn’t hear. She tilted her head to look David in the eye. “Your mom keeps asking for you. We’ll let you in soon, okay?”

He jerked his head in a nod and found a seat in the corner to wait.

The nurse turned her attention back to Gray and the officer who was still with her. “Officer Cummings.”

“Ms. Bartlett.” He shook the woman’s hand as Gray realized they knew each other. From here, perhaps. Similar situations? What a horrifying thing to be unified by.

“Officer, Mrs. Olson isn’t in any condition to talk to you right now, if that’s why you’re staying.”

Gray just wanted to know Angie was going to be okay. “How is she?”

“It’s very touch and go. She has a lot of internal damage. We’re taking her into surgery as soon as the radiologist has seen the rest of the X-rays. I’d like for David to get the chance to see her for a few minutes before we take her down. Do you think he’d be able to handle that?”

Gray’s hesitation seemed to concern the nurse. How could anyone know the answer to a question like that? “He’s very strong, emotionally, but . . .” Her words trailed off.

“Mrs. Olson has got a lot of bruising. She doesn’t look good.”

“I want to see my mom.” It was David’s voice, strong at first, but breaking as he finished. His hands fidgeted at his sides, shoulders rising and falling and eyes straight ahead, as if they alone held the power to keep him upright.

The nurse nodded and motioned for them to follow her. As they
walked, with Officer Cummings in tow, David slipped his hand into Gray’s.

They entered the room and the nurse slowly drew the curtain aside. For a few moments, Gray had to look away. David’s hand became tighter in hers and trembled. Angie lay on a bed with hair matted against her head on one side. They’d done what they could to clean up the blood, but its remnants were everywhere. Smears along the bedrail, a trail half mopped on the floor. Gray reached with her free hand to cradle David’s in both hers until she realized he was pulling away from her.

The din of hospital noises, various beeps and hums, filled the silence as the nurses and hospital techs left, giving David time with his mother.

He shuffled to the bed, started to rest a hand on the railing, but stopped just short of touching it. “Momma?” His voice was soft, barely a whisper, and sounded like it belonged to a much younger child.

Swollen and bruised eyes opened and found David.

David pulled a deep breath and in a moment’s time both mother and son were crying silent tears. “My baby,” she whispered, and the motion opened a cut along the edge of her mouth.

He choked on a sob.

“Shhh.” Angie placed an IV-laden hand on his. “It’s all right. It’s all right, David.”

“Mom . . .” he said, between tears. “Are you gonna be okay?”

Angie’s eyes fell on Gray, who’d grabbed the officer’s arm for stability. “I want you to listen to me, David. You’re the best thing that ever happened to us. You’re the miracle we prayed for and the joy we didn’t deserve.” Her quivering hand came up to touch his cheek.

But David was folding forward, reaching over the railing as if his mom could take him in her arms and hold him until everything was better. With David’s head against the cold metal, Angie’s eyes fell on Gray. “You take care of him, Gray. Promise me.”

Gray wanted to speak, but there were no words.

Angie frowned, the motion drawing her brows together sternly. “Promise me.”

This couldn’t be happening. David shouldn’t be seeing this. This was wrong. They were supposed to be eating cookies and drinking milk. But the request caught up to Gray and she nodded. “I will. I swear.”

Angie’s hand fell away from her son and the tiniest hint of a smile touched her face. Her eyes closed and the machine monitoring her heart—the steady beep beside her—flatlined.

“Mom?” David’s voice was high, panicked. Gray rushed forward and took him by the shoulders as people flew past them into the room, hospital shoes squeaking on the tile floor.

“Call the code team,” someone yelled as the officer who’d been standing by ushered Gray and David from Angie’s side.

In the hallway, she held David in her arms while he cried. It seemed forever that she watched people rushing in and out of the room. Finally, she moved David deeper into the waiting area, where the noise of people trying to save his mother’s life wasn’t quite so loud.

They worked with Angie for over thirty-five minutes but were unsuccessful at resuscitation. She was gone. Bill was gone. And David had curled up in a hospital chair, his gangly, preteen legs hanging awkwardly off the cushion.

Officer Cummings held a steaming cup out to Gray.

She took it. “This can’t be real.”

“I’m sorry about the Olsons. Is David their only child?”

Her eyes, now burning from too many tears, found his. “Yes. I’m his birth mother. They adopted him as an infant.”

Officer Cummings nodded, a frown creasing his smooth forehead. He was about Gray’s age, she realized. Handsome with dark hair and sharp eyes.

Gray continued. “It was an open adoption. I’ve been involved in his life since the day he was born.” And for the nine months before that, but it didn’t seem necessary to say so.

“I see. I can’t believe Mrs. Olson had the capacity to have you bring the temporary custody documents.”

“That’s Angela.” Or was, Gray realized. Angie was gone.

“Would you like me to take the two of you back to the Olsons’ house?”

Gray nodded. Never again would Bill and Angie enter their own house. Never again would they use the plates in the cupboards or the clothes in the closets. Fresh tears found a home in the corners of her eyes.

They tried to rouse David but he’d all but passed out from exhaustion. Finally, the officer pulled him up into his arms and carried him like a baby. “I’ve got two of my own at home.”

Twelve-year-old David didn’t care. He’d lost his whole world tonight. He dropped his head against the officer’s shoulder and pretended to sleep.

Gray paced the master bedroom of the Olsons’ house and tried to sort all that had happened in the last few hours. She’d tucked David in, turned on his nightlight—something he’d stuck in the drawer to pull out only for emergencies—and left him to sleep. The digital clock read 1:45 a.m. and sleep was somewhere on a distant shore even though her body screamed from fatigue.

Everywhere she looked, she saw Bill and Angie, and how . . . how on earth was David ever going to be okay after this? How could he wake to know they weren’t coming home? She needed to be strong for him and even for herself because Bill and Angie had been the closest thing to family she’d had for a long time. All those years ago, when she’d considered raising David on her own—even though she’d known that would be impossible—they were there. But she had
wanted
to raise David, a dream that dissipated once her grandmother had the stroke. It was after finding out Gray was pregnant. At eighteen, there was no way she could have cared for Nana and the baby. Even though she and Nana had moved in with Gray’s aunt in Laver when Gray was three months along. Aunt Sharon had a tiny house. There was no space, no money. And Gray had been a single young girl with a disabled grandmother to take care of.

There’d been another couple who’d wanted David. But they hadn’t been agreeable with the idea of an open adoption, and Gray had been selfish not wanting to lose her child entirely.

Bill and Angie were—had been—wonderful parents. Now, it was up to her. She curled onto the master bed and tugged a throw blanket over her. The guest room was downstairs, but she didn’t want to be that far from David in case he needed her.

A sound at the bedroom door caused her to look up. He stood there, hands at his sides, something dangling from one. For a twelve-year-old, he looked small. He lifted his hand and Gray could see it was a Ninja Turtle. “My dad bought me this when he took Mom to Vegas.”

Gray leaned up on her elbow. “I remember. You were nine or ten.”

He took a step inside. “Yeah. He said he would bring me a stuffed animal from Circus Circus. I said I was too old for stuffed animals.”

When he moved into the room, the light caught the sheen of tears on his face. “He brought me this. Said it was okay to have stuffed toys if they were ninjas.”

Gray bit into her cheeks to keep the tears at bay.

David hugged the turtle. “I wasn’t really too old. I loved it. I wasn’t too old, Gray. Do you think he knew I liked it? I did. I swear I did.”

“David, your mom and dad knew everything about you. And they
loved
everything about you. Your dad knew you loved it. Your mom knew you hated peas. She told me she only put them on your plate so she could watch you think of creative ways to make them disappear.”

He stood straighter. “She did?”

“Her favorite was the night you dropped them one by one in the flower vase.”