The Family (14 page)

“I hate to do this, but we really need to get back.”

Twig snapped out of her reverie. Of course they did. How long had they been gone? She looked outside. Her happiness had distracted her, but now her worry and anxiety came back full force. She heard the
click click
of Gran’s bangles as Gran pushed up her sleeve, revealing a thin black watch.

“It’s 4:30.”

“We’ll
just
make dinner. I shouldn’t have let us cut it this close.”

Twig sighed. “I don’t want to go…”

“You’ll come back. As soon as you can.”

They said their goodbyes. Twig embraced Gran one more time. She smelled of lemons and something wonderful and spicy. It must be her shampoo or soap.

“Come on, Twig.” Avery’s voice was serious now. “We’ve got to get back on time.”

Gran stood by while Avery and Twig mounted the horses. They waved goodbye, and the two women rode across the yellow field toward the tunnel of leaves and branches. When they emerged on the other side of the tunnel, it began to rain.

Twig’s muscles tightened. She felt a flash of fear, like she had the moment before her accident.

“Are you okay, Twig?” Avery called after her.

Twig felt her stomach dropping. She almost felt dizzy with fear.

I’ve been riding my whole life in the rain
, she thought to herself.
Sometimes it rains every day for months. I’ve got to get a grip. Think about the new studio. Think about the paint. If we miss dinner call, I could lose all of it
.

“I’m okay,” Twig called back to Avery.

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Twig kicked her heels into Sapphire, and the horse broke into a run.

23

When they got back to the stables, the rain had stopped. They knew they had made it because Farriss was still there cleaning up. Twig and Avery slid off their horses, relieved.

“Cutting it close, ladies,” Farriss admonished them, looking in the direction of one of the stalls.

Adam emerged. “You are, ladies,” he added with levity. He was in a good mood.

Twig sucked in her breath but gave him her brightest smile. Her heart had begun to pound in her chest at the sight of him.

“I’m sorry! We were having so much fun.” Did he know where they were? Was there a chance he had followed them? Her brain ran wild trying to figure out some excuse.

“Good, I’m glad. I’m glad to see both of you out and about. I hear you have made a complete recovery, Twig,” Adam said. There was nothing suspicious or angry in his voice. Twig felt herself relax a bit. Maybe he really believed that they had just been out for a ride. Why wouldn’t he? In a way, going to see Gran was not so different from her morning excursions. Only the stakes were higher.

“Yes, I have.” Twig feigned lightness by holding up her wrist and twirling it. “I just have to go a bit easy on it.”

This was the first time Twig had seen Adam since the night they had returned from the hospital. He looked good, rested. She had never wondered before where Adam went when he went away. He had been so distant, so public, before he announced their engagement. But their lives were tied together now. She wanted to ask him where he had been, but she didn’t dare.

“Twig, may I walk you to dinner? I want to ask you something,” Adam asked sweetly.

Twig forced herself not to look at Avery as Adam helped her off Sapphire. Twig noticed how careful he was with her. He touched her as if she might break. When Adam was sure she was steady on her feet, he let her go. Twig smiled at him, appreciative of his tenderness. Her fear that he had followed them began to dissolve. How do you make sense of loving and worshipping someone your whole life, only to find out they might be a liar or a fake? Can you love someone and hate them at the same time? Love them and doubt them?

Avery walked off without saying goodbye. Adam took Twig’s arm and led her away from the stables and back toward the compound.

“So, how are you, kiddo?” Adam asked.

“I’m pretty good.” Every time Twig opened her mouth, her heart beat faster. Did he know where they’d been?

“Yeah?” Adam was charming. There was something about being next to him that made Twig begin to soften, relax just a bit, let her guard down. This was exactly what Avery had warned her against.

“Yeah.” Twig smiled sweetly. Could she walk this line? Get to know him and keep her guard up at the same time? Be herself on some level but watchful on another? Twig tried to determine his color, but it was a blur, as always. That must mean something.

“What are you thinking about?”

“What? Right now?” The question startled Twig

“Right now. What are you thinking about?”

“Your color.” Out of all of the thoughts in her head, this one she could say out loud.

“My color?”

“Yeah. I can’t figure out your color. You’re a mystery to me.”

He grinned. “Explain.” He had a gorgeous smile.

“Well, I get a sense from a person, and it manifests in a color. Sometimes I get it instantly,” she thought of Gran earlier today. “And sometimes it comes later. But with you, it just hasn’t come.”

“I like that. And it makes sense that I can’t be made.”

“Made?”

“You can’t blow my cover. It’s cop terminology.”

“Cop?”

Adam stopped walking for a moment and looked at Twig. “You’re so young,” he marveled. “I mean, you are only seventeen, of course, but I meant something else. We’ve kept you so pure. You are not corrupted by the media of the outside world.”

Twig felt slightly uncomfortable. “Can you explain, Father? ‘Cop’? ‘Made’?”

Adam tossed his dark head of hair back and laughed lightly. He was in a
really
good mood. “A ‘cop’ is a policeman. When a policeman goes undercover and someone discovers his true identity, people say he was ‘made.’”

“So are you undercover?” she asked with much more confidence than she felt.

“Ah. Touché.” Adam began to walk again, his arm still enfolded around Twig’s. “Am I undercover?” Adam thought for a moment. When he spoke, his tone was serious. “Twig, you’re going to be my wife. You’re going to see sides of me no one else sees. But I’ve also got a Family to lead. I’ll be honest: there are parts of me you won’t see, that no one will ever see. That’s the reality of leading.”

“That sounds a bit lonely,” she answered honestly. It also sounded ominous. Not exactly her vision of marriage. She felt chills on the back of her neck.

“I’m okay, but you are a dear to care.” He winked at her. “Listen. We can talk about this more another time. I know that sounded a bit scary and mysterious. Don’t worry,” he smiled. “Mostly, I am an open book.”

Open book
. No one she knew was an open book. Not even her own mother.

“So listen, what I
do
want to talk to you about today is this: I want you to go on the weekly supply runs with Thomas,” he said, his beatific grin spreading across his face. “Are you pleased? This means I am trusting you with a great deal of responsibility.”

“What?” Twig was shocked. Thomas went into Turrialba once a week to get staples they couldn’t grow or make themselves.

“You’ve been outside of the compound now, Twig. I know you can handle yourself.”

Twig nodded but didn’t say anything. Did he know about her talk with Dr. Young? Had he set up that conversation to test her? Was this part of that test? She should say something right now. This was her chance. But what if he hadn’t, and Dr. Young had acted of his own accord? She should ask Adam some question about the outside world virus, show him her fear of it. Except her fear was wearing off. Too many people she had met lately were not infected, and they lived outside of the Family. “Is it safe?” she blurted out. “To go outside the compound that much?”

Adam smiled warmly. “My little lamb. I will prepare you. We will keep you safe. You dear, little thing. Of course this would scare you. I should have been more sensitive.” He looked at her with adoration. “Yes, you will be safe. We will take every precaution to ensure your mental, physical and spiritual safety. You will be my soldier, going out into the world on my behalf. I’m proud of you, Twig.”

Twig let out a big sigh of fake relief. She laughed tentatively along with him, hoping she was convincing. She noticed now how he dictated the tone and mood of any conversation.

Turrialba. Twig began to contemplate the possibilities. She might run into Leo if she went to Turrialba. She had thought about Leo a lot since she met him at the hospital. The truth was, she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

“See, the thing is, Twig—” He had become serious, his mirth evaporated. “If you’re going to be my wife, I need to know I can trust you. What better way to have you prove your devotion to me than to send you into the outside world each week—and have you return to me every time?” Adam put his arm around Twig’s shoulders and squeezed. “Can I trust you, Twig?”

“Of course,” she said automatically.

“Good.”

Could he trust her? Her loyalty, which had always been to the Family, to Adam, was splitting off in various directions. It was becoming apparent that loyalty to Avery meant peeling off from Adam, at least a little bit. And Twig felt her own agenda forming. She wanted to see Leo again. She wanted to talk to Hazel, listen to their music, see their clothes. She wanted to go to Gran’s as soon as possible and try out all of those art supplies. Did she really no longer want to marry Adam? She thought of all she would be turning her back on and the extreme punishment she would incur if she decided to take a stand against him.

This was the dance they were going to dance. She would never completely know him, he had said as much. There would always be secrets between them. So perhaps he could trust her about as much as she could trust him.

Adam took Twig’s hand in his. “Is this the one you broke?”

“Yes.”

Adam held her wrist steadily in one hand and stroked her palm with the other. The roots of the Family were in his touch. People would follow this man. He exuded power and authority. His touch made her want to curl up and go to sleep. She thought about the electricity of Leo’s touch. How it made her feel excited and alive.

“Does that hurt at all?” he asked.

“No,” Twig murmured.

“Now, what are you thinking about?” Adam ran the back of his fingers down Twig’s cheek. Such an intimate gesture. Twig wanted to run away. It was too much. It was all too much. What if Tina walked by right now? Or Kamela? Would this always feel so deviant? So wrong?

“That I’m going to be late for dinner.”

Adam laughed, removing his hand. “We wouldn’t want that.”

24

When Twig went to bed that night, she instructed her body to wake up at 4:45 a.m. She could get to the stables in the dark, and by the time she was riding, the sun would be up to light her way to Gran’s. Her plan was to go straight to the studio and work. She didn’t know the rules of going to Gran’s house, but something told her there was only one:

Don’t get caught.

The ride to Gran’s was uneventful. The main house was dark save a few porch lights. Twig let Sapphire out in the pen near the studio and gave her some water and a few carrots. She found herself desperate to go to the bathroom. She was ready to go outside if she had to, but hoped she had overlooked a bathroom in the studio.

The studio was unlocked. She walked in and turned on the various lamps that decorated the small room. There was a tiny bathroom that could have been mistaken for a closet near the kitchen. A toilet, a sink, a basket filled with toilet paper and small wash cloths and a waste paper basket with a fitted lid. Gran’s plumbing was no different from theirs, it seemed.

Twig went to the kitchen after washing her hands and switched on the wall light. There was a basket filled with muffins and a package of coffee. A small note was placed in a coffee filter.

Heard you’re an early riser. Enjoy. –G
.

Twig held the note and smiled.

As the coffee brewed, Twig looked around at the supplies. She squeezed a tube of paint onto to her finger and sniffed it. The paint touched her nose, and she quickly ran to the sink to wash it off. She couldn’t go back to the compound covered in paint.

She ran her hands over the big roll of canvas and then the different papers, choosing one and fixing it awkwardly to the easel. While squeezing tubes of acrylic paint onto a big wooden slab, she marveled at the color selection. Ah! The colors she could invent. She had dreamed of this—of actually painting, with real paints and not with leaves or crushed clay. She ran paintbrushes over her fingertips, noticing some were stiff and coarse, others soft and bushy.

With her coffee in one hand, she began to use a palette knife to carry the paint onto the paper. Placing it randomly, smashing it around, getting to know its texture. How it moved. What sort of stain it made. No plan. She put her coffee down and chose a brush. She was focusing now. She pushed the color along beneath the bristles, sensing how the tooth of the thick paper absorbed the paint. She started to make circles, adding light, bringing this shape forward, adding darker colors to make others recede. The rhythm reminded her of Leo, of his music and his tapping crutches. She was dancing.

Time and place disappeared. She was made for this.

An image was emerging. It was coming fast. Twig traced the shape of a small horse with her brush and then filled in the body. People. Bright green grass and a big, imposing house in the background. Twig put her fingers to her head, which had began to ache slightly. Her stomach dropped and her mouth became dry. She thought about stopping. But she didn’t want to stop. The painting was pouring out of her. The pink tulle of a young girl’s party dress. The gray of a man’s hair, his big smile and tanned skin. Shimmering gold shoes. Then Avery, chic and smiling. A cigarette held between her long fingers.

Tears were streaming down Twig’s cheeks.

She put the brush down and backed away from the painting. She remembered now. She’d seen this scene the day she’d fallen off Sapphire. It had just been flashes, but she’d seen this man, this house, and this younger, worldlier version of her mother.