The Truth About Mallory Bain (15 page)

The house isn't worth keeping if it's haunted.

I bumped into something solid and jumped back, screaming.

“Hold on! Mallory! Stop!” My brother held his hands up to his ears.

In the corner of my eye, I saw Caleb duck into the open doorway behind us.

Rick cupped his hands on my shoulders.
“Shh.
I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you.”

I took in gulps of air.

“Mallory! Get a grip.”

I pulled back. “Richard Bain!”

“You're kinda overdoin' it, don't ya think?”

I swiped my fist against his arm. “What are you doing here?”

“Checking for drafts. You texted me.”

“Right. I'm sorry I screamed at you. I was spooked because of the noise.”

“What noise?”

“The armoire in the guest room moved.” I pivoted on my heel and returned to the bedroom.

Rick followed. “Say what?”

“You heard me. Nobody pushed it. Now it's sitting in the middle of the floor.”

Rick followed me into the bedroom. His mouth dropped. “This is strange.”

I brushed past him and stood beside the armoire, the top of which was an inch higher than the top of my head. I gave it a hefty hip bump. “Won't budge. It's good to see you again, by the way.”

“Back at you. That's what I'm saying, you goofy goose. A piece of furniture that size needs people power.” Rick joined me beside the armoire. He removed the larger drawers and set them on the bed. Together we pushed the armoire back against the wall.

“Here's what I think happened.” He slid one of the drawers back into place. “This thing has been sitting here in the middle of the room waiting for Mom to get me to move it back. Can't explain how or when—not important—but you heard a different noise. Coincidence.”

“Smart aleck.” I shook my head vigorously. “Ronnie slept in here last night. She would have said something.”

He squinted at me. “Mom and Ronnie moved it.”

“And left it in the middle of the room for no reason.”

“Ask them. I will argue to my death that you heard a different noise. Go with it. You look tired. You're not sleeping.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “Yes. No. But I know what I heard.”

“How is Ronnie, anyway?”

“Good. Real good. Ohmygosh! Caleb!” I ran out of the room. “Caleb!”

We found him sitting on his heels in the middle of Mom's bed picking at a bit of pillow fringe. He looked up saucer-eyed.

I scooted onto the bed beside him. “You're okay.”

He nodded assent.

“Uncle Rick scared me by accident. Nothing bad happened.” I pulled him close to me and cuddled him in my arms.

“He recognized me when I came in,” said Rick, waving his hand toward the door.

Caleb watched my brother's hands. I presumed he was remembering the times Chad struck me then sent me scurrying him into the bathroom behind the locked door. He no doubt remembered Chad pounding and kicking on that locked door, too.

Rick folded his arms against his chest as he walked toward the bed. “You two certainly are skittish.”

I blinked back my tears and sniffled. “My screaming scared him.” I hugged Caleb again. “I'm sorry, baby.”

Rick sat down the other side of Caleb. “First of all, this young man is no baby, but it was silly how your mom screamed like she'd seen a monster.”

Caleb let out a small giggle.

“But hey, I'm no monster. In fact, people think I'm a pretty nice guy.” Rick tousled Caleb's hair. “Does she scream a lot?”

I shook my head fast over Caleb's head, hoping Rick would catch on his question was not good. “He'll be fine.”

Caleb threw his arms around my neck. “I'll draw pictures of you screaming at Uncle Rick.”

“Draw me silly.” I crossed my eyes and twisted my mouth.

“I can.” Caleb bounded down the stairs.

“Do you scream a lot?” asked Rick.

“Not since Chad.”

His expression told me he understood.

“Do not—
ever
—tell Mom.”

“If he shows up here, everybody will know, including the cops.”

“He won't. Where is the draft?”

“Haven't started looking yet.”

I led him out of Mom's room and down the hall to mine. He followed with his head bent back, facing the ceiling. I stopped and
watched him. I noticed his height and breadth relative to the hallway, the doorway, and the sconces on the wall.

“You look about five-ten, five-eleven.”

Rick choked out a laugh. “What do you want to know for?”

“Rick!”

“Five-eleven and a half. Make it easy and say six-foot. Tell me why you want to know.”

I gave him a sketchy version of my dreams while he checked the windows, air vents, and registers in my room.

“So this dream dude is taller than me.”

“And thinner.”

Rick guffawed. “You calling me fat?”

I chuckled at him. “No! I'm describing the dream dude so I can figure out who he is. Was. I need to figure out if I ever knew a tall guy who died.”

“Don't know who'd be a tall ghost in the family.”

“Me either.”

“Strange how you dream about a guy and you think ghost.”

“It's weird. I know.”

“Sounds like Judith's kind of weirdness. She's into death. Ask her.”

“I might if the dreams don't stop. Ben was five-ten. You and he have,
had
in his case, similar builds. My dream guy is thinner and taller.”

“You must have known at least one thin tall guy.”

“Sure, but I don't know who's dead. Seems odd they'd hang around here. I don't remember how tall Tony was.”

“Five-ten or less. Shorter than his little brother. But good to know you think Ben was fat. You probably think Tony was, too.”

“Quit it! You guys are not fat.” I paused. “Were,” I added, remembering Ben and Tony. “Where is the draft coming from?”

Rick rubbed his forehead. “Nowhere.”

“It blew enough to move my hair. I was freezing.”

“Mom opened the front door, there was a temperature change, the AC kicked on and a cold breeze drifted up the staircase.”

“She wasn't home.”

“Don't know what happened, then. Keep your door closed.”

“I'll keep doing that. You're still nice for stopping over.”

“No big deal. All I have left to do at home is add salt to the water softener. Say, what are you guys doing tonight?”

“Ordering pizza. Our mother is dining with Carl.”

Rick snickered salaciously. “I'm here to tell you, I have serious suspicions about dining with Carl.”

“Ahh! Stop! My head does not want to go there.”

“I'm texting Natalie. I'm bringing you and Caleb home for supper.”

“Don't.” I reached for his arm. “Wives hate drop-in company.”

“She loves my family. Caleb can hang out with Chris and Tuck, and Liam will have a blast toddling around after the big guys.”

“It's short notice. Please, do not mess with her.” I grabbed his hand.

He spun away from me. “Go on!” He chortled and slid his thumbs over the keypad.

“Liam must be two now.”

“Twenty months. Christopher and Tucker are five.” He paused. “She's dying to see you. She'll order pizzas and make salad. I'm texting Mom to let her know, so you can't back out now.”

Less than two hours later our three older boys were playing Chutes and Ladders on the rug, while we visited and took turns amusing Liam to keep him away from the game board.

Natalie handed me a Coke refill. “It's good you and Caleb came home. No more moving away again.”

“I think we're here for good. But we can't make it a late night this visit.”

She dropped down beside me on the sofa. “Stay the night.”

“Caleb has school tomorrow.”

“Another time,” said Rick. He sat in the recliner across from us. “Chris and Tucker love sleepovers, and Liam loves whatever
the twins love. Right, scamper?” Rick rolled his giggling, huskyvoiced toddler onto his lap.

“I'd welcome a good night's sleep, though. I've been dreaming too much lately. Mom says I've been distracted and daydreaming.”

“Your mind is sorting things out,” said Rick.

“True. But I'm beginning to think Mom's house is haunted, and I think a guy on a motorcycle might be watching the house to rob us.”

My brother and Natalie raised their brows. I wished I hadn't blurted out such a ludicrous observation.

“I'll check out alarm systems tomorrow. You do know the place is haunted when Aunt Judith visits,” said Rick. “Don't tell me that old witch been scaring you with her ghost stories.”

Natalie sat straighter. “Witch. Shame on you.”

“She has, actually,” I said.

“Nobody takes her seriously,” said Rick.

“Don't you start badmouthing her again,” said Natalie.

Rick laughed mockingly.

Natalie gave me a serious stare. “Judith is an after-effect of tough luck. She had two second-trimester miscarriages, her third baby was stillborn, and her husband died a short time later from cancer.”

“I did not know about the babies.” I looked at my brother.

He gazed at the ceiling and wrinkled his face. “Somewhere along the line, somebody might have mentioned a baby, which when you think about it, she's had one heck of life.” He drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. “She's lonely. No surprise she collects animals. Her fascination with death is way out there, though.”

“She misses Steven,” Natalie interjected. “If you die before me, Rick, I'm going to talk to you all the time.”

“You already do,” he chuckled.

Natalie patted my knee. “What I want to know is what took you so long.”

“So long for what?”

“To dump Chad. We never liked him.”

“I never knew you felt that way.”

“That whole situation stunk. Him showing up right after Ben died and moving in on you.”

I chuckled. “He no doubt saw an opportunity.”

“You two never had that Cinderella and Prince Charming bond Rick and I have.”

Rick guffawed. “Is that who we are now?”

I pressed my finger and thumb against my eyes and snickered. “Rick in tights.”

Rick threw up his arms. “And she called me fat!”

Natalie rolled her eyes. “I mean the magical kind of love you and Ben had. Everybody saw it; everybody envied it.”

“Chad was happy with our marriage at first, but maybe he tried to replace Ben.”

Natalie laid her hand on mine. “You still love Ben.”

I watched Caleb. He focused on the game board, but I knew he was listening. He's protective of me and he's always listening.

“I will love him forever.” I paused and hesitated. “You may as well know. Mom and I talked this morning.” I gestured toward Caleb. “He's Ben's. Not Chad's.”

They exchanged glances.

Natalie nodded. “We've said over the years there is no resemblance to Chad and only a little to you, which made us think.”

My brother breathed in heavily and rested his chin on his hand. I hoped he wasn't mentally comparing me to Aunt Judith.

Rick leaned back and folded his arms behind his head. “I don't get Chad. I would never destroy what we've got going here. Natalie and the boys mean the world to me. Every day is a new adventure. Liam pooping his jobs in the pot, the twins starting kindergarten. I even get to be the tooth fairy.”

I giggled at him. “Still liking the tights.”

Rick tossed a throw pillow at me.

“Look. Chad is not you or Ben,” I said. “You're here doing the father thing because you wanted to be a dad. Chad never did.” I thought of Erik and added, “There are all kinds of fathers, I guess. Erik Fowler is a strange one. We ran into him at the park this morning. He was alone without his wife or daughter.”

“He married your friend,” said Natalie. “What's her name again?”

“Dana. Odd match, if you ask me.” I nodded. “She gets migraines and he drives miles to find a peaceful place to ruminate.”

Natalie asked, “Amazing the ones people choose to marry. Is it fate or destiny?”

“Neither. You and Ben would have made a great team,” said Rick. “Shame how things turned out.”

A moistening of tears seeped into my eyes.

Natalie scooted closer and gave me a sisterly hug. “Even hygienists need chocolate once in a while. Come on. I've got a secret stash.”

Caleb and I arrived home later that evening, with the remaining chocolate caramels tucked inside my bag. Mom had already texted me that she and Carl planned on visiting his mother in the nursing home the next morning for a care conference. She was spending the night at his place—if I didn't mind.

Mulling over the truths I had shared with her that morning, I reminded myself,
where she sleeps is none of your business. Let her find contentment with Carl Kowalski after hearing her youngest daughter had been mistreated. Shame on you for being less than truthful to that sweet lady in the first place.

I would forever suffer the torment of knowing that I made her cry. That knowledge was going to be another lie of omission because I'd never tell either of my siblings what I had done.

The following days into the first half of our second week in Minneapolis passed quickly. I interviewed for two positions, hoping to hear back from them soon.

The nocturnal man continued to visit my predawn dreams. Yet I failed to comprehend his words. His presence was expected
and actually hoped for now, and to my surprise I was getting over being startled by his sudden appearance in my doorway. He offered no new clues to his identity other than my realizing his height and that he still carried a rolled newspaper under his arm.

I concluded window knocking or cold drafts blowing from nowhere preceeded his visits. The greatest unease I felt stemmed from an urge to discuss our experiences with Judith. There was a part of me, however, that cautioned against taking her into my confidence.