The Family (13 page)

Avery laughed. “I wish. No. Come on, she can help me explain.”

She?
What was going on? Avery had a relationship with someone from the outside world? A person who lived almost under the nose of the compound?

“I will say one thing,” Avery began. “When Adam said he was going to marry you, I felt helpless. You’re just a kid. You’re so defenseless against him. I have been wracking my brain for something I can do to help you. Openly defying Adam was not helpful,” Avery gestured to her shaved head, now covered in a light layer of stubble. “So I am bringing you here.”

“How will bringing me here help me?”

“I don’t know that it will. I just had to do something.”

Twig didn’t say anything in response. She was stunned. She followed Avery as they walked their horses to the back of the house. There was another, smaller sort of cottage and a corral where they left Sapphire and Bill Evans, their noses submerged in giant silver bowls of water. Twig followed Avery along a path that led to the back door of the house. Either side of the path was flanked by a small, well-tended vegetable garden. Twig noted that whoever owned the house had a strong sense of color. Even though the materials from the house didn’t seem local, they complemented the woods.

“Mom, is this safe?” Twig suddenly thought of Adam’s teachings about the outside world, the people in it. A few weeks of doubt couldn’t erase a lifetime of his preaching.

“Yes. We are safe here.” Avery’s voice was tender. “I wouldn’t take you somewhere that wasn’t safe. I mean—” Avery paused.

“What?” Twig pressed.

“Nothing. I didn’t mean anything, Twig. Come on.” Something hung heavy in the air between them, but Twig decided to let it go.

Avery knocked gently on the door and then turned the knob and walked in. She was obviously welcome here. Suddenly, she stopped and turned around. Twig nearly bumped into her. Avery grabbed Twig’s good wrist.

“Twig, you have to promise you will never tell another soul about any of this.”

“Okay.” Twig nodded in agreement.

“Twig, you have to know how serious and how dangerous this is.”

“Dangerous? I thought you just said it was safe.”

“It is safe here, yes. But by bringing you here, I am putting you, this person, and myself in jeopardy. But I think it’s important. I wouldn’t have brought you here otherwise.”

Twig hesitated. This was too much. What if Adam was right? What if Avery had been deceived by this person? And even if Adam was wrong, what would he do to them if he found out? Twig wanted to get back to the safety and sureness of the compound.

“Please, Twig, I’m sorry. I’m confusing you. It’s okay. You just can’t tell anyone.” Avery paused. “It’s just that he can be extremely persuasive, Twig.”

“Who?”

“Adam. He can be tricky and very convincing. I don’t think you know exactly what you’re dealing with when it comes to Adam.” Avery took a deep breath. Twig copied her.

The back door had opened into a big kitchen. The delicious smell of something baking filled the air. The smell peaked Twig’s curiosity. It didn’t smell like the food they cooked on the compound. These smells had colors to them.

Twig leaned around Avery to look into the room. A large wooden table whose top was covered in metal sat to their right. It was littered with large books with glossy paper covers and stacks of magazines. The floor was covered in some sort of gray concrete and mopped to a shine. Heavy, colorful woven rugs were thrown here and there. On the other side of the kitchen sat two armchairs covered in a bright pink-orange fabric with oversized white roses embroidered throughout. Cerulean blue silk pillows were placed on each of the chairs. Yellow and purple wildflowers sat in a bowl on a small table between the chairs. Twig gasped in astonishment. She wanted to run her hands over everything. It was perfect. Beautiful and cozy. How could all of this be here? So close to the world she knew, but so different.

“Twig?”

Twig’s fears were disappearing by the second, the room was so inviting. “Can we go in?”

Avery eyed her. “Gran?” She called out.

“Coming, darling. I’ll be right there,” answered a voice from somewhere inside the house.

Avery looked back at Twig and smiled nervously.

“I’m actually excited about this. I can’t believe it’s happening. I’ve wanted you two to meet for so long.”

Twig felt as if she were dreaming. This whole scene was so unbelievable, so strange.

A moment later, the most elegant woman Twig had ever seen entered the room. Twig judged her to be somewhere in her late sixties. Her hair was pearl white and cut into a neat bob that framed her face. Her eyes were extraordinarily large and black. Looking at this woman, a familiar feeling, almost déjà vu, passed over Twig.

She was dressed in a crisp, navy blouse and dark blue jeans tucked into amber brown riding boots. Tortoiseshell bracelets dangled from her wrists. She was taller than both Twig and Avery. Thin, but not frail. She looked at Twig and smiled warmly.

“Twig.”

“Hi,” Twig said shyly. Who was this person? How could she live so close to the compound, but be so totally different? How had Twig never come upon her before?

“Twig, this is Gran. My, well, my savior…in a way.”

The woman laughed at this. “Oh, Avery. Don’t be silly. You flatter me.” She crossed over to Twig. Her bangles made music when she extended her hand.

Twig looked at Avery, who nodded. Twig thought again of what Dr. Young had said about disease. Like Leo and Hazel, this woman looked perfectly healthy, vibrant even. Twig accepted Gran’s hand. Copper. Warm. The hand of someone who had been through a lot and had decided to see the beauty in life. Take the good with the bad. Gran’s color was copper. They held hands for an extra beat and looked at one another. Gran’s eyes began to glisten.

“My God, it’s good to meet you, darling.”

“I don’t know who you are, but it’s really good to meet you, too.” Twig laughed. “I’m not going to lie, this is strange.” But somehow, Twig didn’t feel afraid. She felt excited.

“I understand,” Gran said thoughtfully. “It’s not everyday you meet an old recluse in the woods. Why don’t we have a little something to eat before we talk?”

Twig and Avery nodded. Gran guided them into the two armchairs. Twig examined the silk pillow. The fabric was exotic. A memory of the night she’d had to bathe Anna pierced through her head suddenly, making her feel slightly nauseated. That silky purple underwear—the only other time she had seen fabric like this. She shook off the memory and looked again at Gran’s pillows. She wished she had fabric like this to work with. She wondered where it came from. It was how she imagined textiles from Morocco might look. Twig wondered if it had been hard for Yasmine and Farriss to leave a place with treasures like this.

Gran brought them tea in bright green cups lined with gold. Twig felt like she’d fallen into some wonderland of color and texture. She was surrounded by glass and wood. The late afternoon light poured in through the kitchen windows in golden, lavender rays.

The three women sat quietly eating small plates of black beans that tasted of lime juice and some spice Twig didn’t know. Gran had also served a sweet corn mixture that was full of tomatoes and cilantro. It was delicious.

“Avery, how are you today, darling?” Gran spoke first.

Twig looked at her mother.

“I’m okay, but we don’t have that much time, and I want to explain things to Twig.”

“Of course,” Gran answered.

“How do you two know each other? How did you meet?” Twig asked quickly.

Avery took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. She looked at Twig with her piercing gray eyes. “Let’s start with why I’ve brought you here. That’s the easiest thing to explain.”

“Okay,” Twig said gently. She was worried if she spoke too much she’d startle Avery into one of her silences.

“When Adam said he was going to marry you, I was blindsided. I still can’t believe it.” Avery paused. She seemed paralyzed in anger at the memory.

“Avery,” Gran leaned forward and touched Avery’s hand lightly, encouraging her to continue.

Avery drew in another long breath. “Our world has been so shrouded in secrecy. I’m not used to talking to you, Twig.”

For some reason, that hurt.

“I mean talking
openly
,” Avery backpedaled, “without thinking about everything I say. I’m always worried a piece of information will put you at risk.”

Twig knew what she meant. She felt the same way, and if she was honest with herself, it was why she kept hesitating to tell Avery about her conversation with Dr. Young.

“Like I told you before, I felt helpless,” Avery continued. “Speaking to Adam on your behalf did not work. Introducing you to Gran, though it’s a risk, feels like the only thing I can do. The only thing I can do to…” Avery stopped, considering her words. “To help you find your way.”

“Find my way?”

“I can’t say much more. Gran has helped me and cared for me when all
the Family
offered was reproach.”

Twig had never heard Avery say “the Family” with such disdain.

“She does everything from making sure I eat to washing my hair.” Avery laughed, nervously, her eyes darkening only slightly at the mention of her hair.

“Mom, this is crazy.” Twig stopped and looked at Gran. “I don’t mean to be rude, I just don’t understand. How did you two even meet?”

“That’s a story for another time, Twig.” Avery waved away the question. “I just thought that maybe we’d leave someday. Somehow. Maybe when you turned eighteen.”

Twig’s eyebrows shot up.
Leave?
Twig felt a strange mix of nausea and hope. Her mind flashed back to the hospital: Avery running, pushing Twig’s wheelchair down the glowing white hallway.

“But now that’s not possible. Adam wants you. He’s not going to let you go.”

“Leave, Mom? Why didn’t you ever mention that to me before? Why didn’t you talk to me before?” Twig was getting heated. It was a lot to take in.

“I couldn’t. I—” Avery looked overwhelmed. “You just have to take some things on faith right now. I can’t say any more.”

“You sound like him. Just now, you sounded just like him,” Twig said sadly. She wanted an explanation. A real explanation of where she was, whom Gran was, how she and Avery had met.

Avery became as still as a stone. Twig immediately regretted what she had said. She felt Avery’s pain in her own chest. She always had to walk on eggshells with her, even more than everyone else, and Avery was her mother.

“Mom,” Twig started to backpedal, but Avery stood up and started to walk away from her.

“I’m fine, Twig. This was a mistake.” She was obviously not fine. Her shoulders had that closed-off energy, and she looked as if Twig had stuck her. Like she might cry. Avery was just so sensitive, and you never knew what would hit her the wrong way, cause her to freeze up like this. But there were other times she didn’t seem sensitive at all. She seemed tough and capable of taking care of herself. She was a landmine, and Twig still didn’t know how to traverse the territory with ease. Twig looked to Gran.

“Listen.” Gran stood up and walked over to Avery, who was looking out the window awkwardly. “What do you think about giving Twig her present? We can talk more the next time you two come.” Twig had noticed the light getting darker. They would have to go soon.

“I think that’s a great idea.” Avery nodded and brightened a bit, coming back to them.

“A present?” Twig added softly. Presents were a bit of an alien concept to Twig. The Family did not exchange gifts. That didn’t mean she wasn’t happy to get one.

She was calming down. She felt bad for what she had said to Avery, comparing her to Adam. And truth be told, this was all very exciting.

Avery and Gran led Twig back outside, bringing carrots for the horses. It was warm and sticky outdoors compared to the cool of the kitchen. Twig felt something bite her arm and brushed off a small bug. Gran commented that she was dressed too warmly. She said you get colder when you get older.

“Well, first you get warmer,” she laughed. “Then you get colder.” Twig thought she must be referring to menopause. They had learned about it in school when they were taught about a woman’s menstrual cycle.

There weren’t any elderly people in the Family, yet—the collective was still too new. Doc was the oldest member, and he was only in his early fifties. When Twig thought about it, she realized some women would start to get hot flashes very soon. Rose’s mother, Evelyn, came to mind. And Tina.

Gran skipped ahead to the small house near the horses. She opened the door and waved them in. As Twig entered, she gasped.

It was an art studio. And not just any art studio. The space was an airy, open room. The wall that faced the back of the property was practically all glass, like the windows in Gran’s kitchen. Bookshelves containing every art supply Twig could imagine, most of which she had never actually seen, lined the walls. Baskets held tubes of paint, sketchbooks in every size, blue and white china cups filled with brushes. Twig held her hands to her mouth. She’d never really painted before. Not with
actual
paint. There were cups filled with pencils and ones filled with markers. It was so organized. Twig squealed. There was a whole shelf just for different kinds of paper.

Near the window there was an easel, and at its feet lay a big roll of canvas.

“My friend Daniel will teach you how to stretch the canvas for your paintings. I haven’t got a clue.” Gran was standing at the door with Avery. They were both smiling. “He can teach you about the supplies, too.”

“Do you like it, honey?” Avery had her lower lip between her teeth, a nervous gesture.

“Like it?” Twig began to spin around with her arms in the air. “I LOVE IT!” She ran toward Gran and Avery and threw her arms around them. They laughed. Her joy was infectious.

“I love you, Mom!” Twig blurted out. Avery laughed, but Twig felt her mother stiffen a little bit beneath her arms. Big displays of affection were not Avery’s thing, but Twig didn’t care. She didn’t feel hurt. She knew Avery was trying. The gift of the art studio said everything.