Ben leaned against the linen closet door to steady himself. His dad’s name was Brandon.
“How are your mom and dad? Still living in the Bay Area?” Willamina asked, her expression hopeful.
“Um, my mom passed away a year and a half ago.”
Willamina reached out and brushed her hand through Ben’s arm. “I’m sorry to hear that. She with your dad?”
Ben glanced out toward the family room. “Y’know, I should probably get back. We’ve got more kids to visit today.” He brushed past Antoine and went directly to Frank, taking the glass of lemonade from his hand.
“Ready to go?” Frank asked.
“Yeah, Ant’s on board for the program.” Ben smiled at Antoine’s grandma. “We’ll be in touch.” Fighting the urge to punch something, he turned and walked out the door.
“That went well, I think,” Christopher said, handing Ben the car keys.
He took the keys and jammed them into the driver’s side door lock with more force than was necessary.
Frank placed his hand over Ben’s. “Whoa there, Benjamin, what’s the problem?”
Ben pushed past Frank and got in the back seat, slamming the door shut. The other two men got in the car. He looked at the boxes filled with profiles on the seat next to him.
Secrets.
Two boxes full of bullshit and secrets.
Frank started up the car and pulled away from the curb, scraping the front tire again.
Ben glared at Christopher. “Not a fucking word out of you.”
“Jesus, I wasn’t going to say anything!” Christopher twisted in his seat to face him, a look of true concern on his face. He stared at Ben for a moment and then faced forward and switched the radio on.
Ben remained quiet for as long as he could stand to, which was about thirty seconds. “Frank, I need you to get to I-5.”
Frank switched lanes. “I don’t believe that’s the best route to get to San Diego from here, is it?”
“No, but we’re not going to San Diego.” Ben crossed his arms in front of him. “You’re gonna take me to San Francisco to see my dad.”
“What are you talking about?” Frank shifted uneasily in his seat.
“I just had an awesome chat with Antoine’s mom and dad. Seems they were super swell pals with Laura and Brandon back in the day.”
“Benjamin--”
“Knock it off with the parental name lengthening,
Frances
,” Ben sneered. “I assume my dad’s still alive? Antoine’s parents hadn’t seen him around the spirit world.”
Frank nodded his head. “He is alive. But why would you want to see him? He’s never been in your life.”
“Whose fault is that?” Ben balled up his fists to keep his hands from shaking. He didn’t know whether he was angry or devastated or both.
Betrayed.
That’s what he was. “I know Brandon was Mom’s trigger. Antoine’s parents told me so.”
“Oh. Antoine’s parents are a wealth of useful information, aren’t they?” Frank drove into a Ralph’s parking lot and parked the car. He flung his door open and got out, slamming it shut, and then paced around the car a couple of times before opening Ben’s door and hauling him out by the arm. “This isn’t a good idea. Your mom wouldn’t want this.”
Ben wrenched his arm from Frank’s grip and kicked the rear tire. “I don’t want to hear about what anyone wants for me! Mom’s gone. We’re never going to find her. We can’t even find the old lady that trapped her.” He leaned his head against the car and closed his eyes. This day sucked. Living in the now sucked. More than anything, in that moment he wanted the past. He wanted to be fourteen again, wrapped in Connor’s arms, cuddled up on a blanket in the backyard late at night making up stupid new names for constellations.
Frank sighed. “You don’t understand everything that happened back then. Your mom made the decision she thought was best for you.”
“Yeah, well, she fucked up,” Ben muttered. “And so did you by going along with it.”
Christopher got out of the car and walked around so that he was standing on Ben’s other side. He opened his mouth to speak and then closed it.
“What?” Ben said. “Spit it out. I know you are just dying to say something bitchy to me.”
“Actually,” Christopher said, meeting Ben’s gaze head-on, “I agree with you.”
“What?” Ben and Frank said simultaneously.
“You and Zellie and I have all been lied to and had people do things that they thought were in our own best interest, only to have it backfire and damage us more.” Christopher shook his head. “Zellie and I didn’t know who we were and you only thought you did. I think you should meet your dad. I know that if I had the chance to meet either of my biological parents I would. I support you.” He leaned against the car next to Ben.
Ben nudged Christopher’s shoulder with his. “Thank you. Sorry I’m being such a dick.”
Frank scrubbed at his face with his hands. “I’ll take you to see him
when
we get your mom back. I refuse to let you see him without her. I can guarantee it’s not going to be the tearful reunion you think it’s going to be.”
Ben shrugged. “I don’t care what kind of reunion it is. I need some answers.”
“Fine. I can tell you a few things.”
“How about you start with why you went along with it? How did you sit by all these years, knowing the truth?”
Frank looked up at the sky, sadness in his eyes. “Because Laura and Brandon asked me to.”
“I understand your allegiance to Mom, I get it. She was your best friend. But why do you give a shit about keeping my dad secret from me? Especially now that she’s gone?”
“My allegiance is the same to both of them. They’re both family.” He looked at Ben. “Brandon’s my younger brother.”
“Wowza, this is worse than I thought,” Christopher muttered.
“What the hell, Frank? You’re my uncle?” Ben squatted, resting his elbows on his knees. He was going to be sick for sure.
“Whose side of the family do you think you get your height from?”
“And my grandparents?” Ben said to the blacktop. “Your parents. Are they still alive?”
“Mom is, but Dad passed away from a heart attack six years ago. I’m named after him.”
Grandpa Frank.
“Any other family I need to know about?” Ben straightened up and took a deep breath.
Frank nodded his head.
Great. He was all in now.
“We’ve got an older sister, Allison, who lives in Marin. She’s married, has two grown girls, Alisha and Danica. Her husband Bob is a music producer.”
Nope.
He wasn’t going to toss his cookies, he was going to cry. Ben swiped at his eyes with the heel of his palm. “Do they know about me?” he asked, his voice breaking. For his entire life it had only been him and his mom and Frank. That was all the family he’d ever known.
Christopher reached over and stroked Ben’s hair.
“God, kid, no they don’t know about you,” Frank said, tearing up. He put his arm around Ben’s shoulders and Ben let him. “But I wish to hell they all did, okay? I have loved you like you were my own son. You are my family and I’ve always been proud of that. I was doing what your mom wanted, what we all decided would be best for you.”
“So, is my last name really Grand, like yours?” Ben asked, gathering the courage to ask what he really wanted.
Frank tightened his grip around Ben’s shoulders. “No, it’s Fontenot, just like it’s always been.”
Ben nodded his head. “Do I look like him?”
“Not a whole lot. You definitely favor your mom more. Her hair and coloring.” He laughed. “Her crazy-ass personality. You’re tall and skinny like your dad, like me, like your Aunt Allison. We all get that from Dad.”
“Where do they think you are all the time?”
“When you were little, it was easier. I could go visit every once in a while. Things became more dangerous the older you got – after you discovered your powers.” Frank took his arm from around Ben’s shoulders and shrugged his own. “I have a Master’s degree in Anthropology. They think I’m traveling the world studying native peoples.”
Ben steeled himself and took another deep breath. “What’s so awful about me that everyone would try to keep me away from my own father?”
Frank stared hard at him for a moment, confirming Ben’s fears.
Christopher cleared his throat.
Chapter Six
Melody and Zellie watched as the backpacker’s eyelids fluttered, then his body went limp and he collapsed against the car door with a thud.
“I think I hate Wes,” Melody said.
“Yup,” Zellie agreed.
The sisters looked at each other for a second. Melody nodded.
Zellie hesitated and then put her fingers to the backpacker’s neck and checked for a pulse. She exhaled. “He’s alive, but just barely. His pulse is really slow.”
Melody nodded her head again and then climbed from the front seat to the back, sandwiching herself between Zellie and the boy. “I know someplace we can take him, but it’s in Bend. That means driving by the diner. We’ll have to go to Avery’s first to switch cars.” She grabbed the backpacker’s arm and awkwardly pulled the top of his torso so that he was resting in her lap. “I’ll keep an eye on him while you drive.”
Zellie stretched her legs out from the backseat into the front, took hold of the headrests on the seats and slid behind the steering wheel.
The boy roused as Zellie started up the car and pulled back onto the road.
“Hello?” he said, his eyes opening to slits.
Melody looked down at him. “Hi.” She plastered a big ol’ smile on her face and patted his arm.
“Am I dead?” he asked, his voice raspy.
“Not yet!” Melody said.
“Melody!” Zellie scolded.
“What? I’m attempting to be cheerful.”
“Well, you sound super creepy.”
Melody ignored her. “We sorta knew the guy that took over your body and we’re going to take you to get all fixed up, okay?”
He wrinkled his forehead and then the corners of his mouth pulled up into a slight smile. He had nice lips; they were chapped but full. “Okay.”
“Hey, what’s your name?” Melody asked. “We’ve been calling you
the backpacker
, but that’s getting kind of stupid.”
He chuckled/coughed. “Raleigh. I’m surprised you didn’t rummage through my backpack for intel,” he said, his tongue darting out and wetting his lips.
Damn. That would’ve been the smart thing to do.
“You want some water?” Melody leaned over, inadvertently smashing her chest into his face.
Raleigh let out a little smothered “ergh.”
“Crap! Sorry.” Her face flushed bright red. She quickly grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler and sat up straight.
“Worse ways to die,” he said, taking a deep breath.
Wedging her right arm under his body, she pushed him up and rotated him so he was leaning his back against the seat. When he started slumping down, she turned sideways so that she was facing him and threw her right leg over his lap. She pressed her knee into his chest, pinning him.
“You’ve gotta stay sitting up. I practically suffocated you. Let’s not add drowning to the mix.”
Raleigh opened his eyes fully and trained them on her. “Got it,” he whispered.
Melody stared back at him, noticing that his eyes were a pleasant shade of greenish blue and that they seemed kinder now that Wes wasn’t behind them. She was suddenly aware of every part of her body that was touching his.
Snap out of it, Wells!
Sometimes she had to give herself pep talks.
“Open,” she directed, tipping the bottle to his mouth.
He parted his parched lips and she slowly dribbled the water down his throat. After taking several swallows, he turned his head to the side, signaling for her to stop.
“Thank you. So tired,” Raleigh said, sliding toward Melody, his body becoming dead weight.
She put her free hand out to stop his descent, but he had momentum on his side. His head met her chest and pushed her back until he was lying on top of her. Melody caught herself with her elbows and propped herself up.
“Uh.”
Zellie gave a nervous giggle from the front seat. “You’re a regular Flo Nightingale there, Melody.”
She shot her sister a killer glare in the rearview mirror.
The smile on Zel’s face disappeared. “We’re almost to Avery’s.”
“Oh, don’t mind me,” Melody said, capping the water bottle and dropping it to the floor. “I suppose this won’t be the last time a cute boy passes out on top of me.”
“You sure he’s just, um, passed out?”
Melody’s heart jerked in her chest. She jammed her fingers in between Raleigh’s jaw line and neck, his pulse thumping against her fingertips.
“Yes,” she said, her voice cracking, giving her anxiety away.
“Cute boy, huh?” Zellie asked, the smile returning to her face.
Melody looked down at Raleigh. His golden blonde hair was dirty and stuck to his forehead. The bridge of his nose was red and sunburned, but his color was improving, the green barfy cast to his skin fading. There was a smattering of freckles across his cheeks. She’d always been jealous of Zellie’s freckles because they made her pretty in a unique way. And his eyes...she wouldn’t mind getting to know the person behind them.
Melody sighed, “Yes.”
Yes, she was a silly-ass freckle envier who was possibly crushing on a half-dead boy.
Zellie did her a favor and changed the subject. “So, where in Bend are we going to take him? A clinic or something?”
“No, it’s not safe to take him anywhere public. Even if the cops or the people at the diner don’t remember, the call I made to the police happened. The dispatcher still knows she sent the cops to answer a burglary call. His description will still be out there.”
Melody reached behind her and rolled down the window a couple of turns. The crappy air conditioning in the Legacy blasted in the front seat, but barely blew in the back. A hot, dry thread of air made its way to her face, essentially drying the sweat from her eyebrows and hairline.
Better than nothing.
“We’re taking him to a friend of Aunt Hazel’s. They go way back, apparently. It’s the same dude she took Gabrielle’s body to after the showdown with Mildred. Aunt Hazel gave me his address before she left. His name’s Roger.”