The Truth About Mallory Bain (4 page)

He did board a flight to Minneapolis the day I told him Ben was dead. He stood by me when grief consumed me, when I cried to the extent I thought I might die, too.

Dana and I drove him from the airport to our friend Erik Fowler's apartment. During the drive, she suggested Chad take me to his parent's home in Collierville, Tennessee, for the summer.
Persuading me to go was easy. I'd quit eating and cried all the time. I might have lost the baby.

Chad had known I was pregnant long before anyone else. He convinced me being born into a family was best. We were good friends mourning the death of another good friend, and I was pregnant with our dead friend's child. I accepted Chad's marriage proposal because we agreed our friendship was strong enough to carry us forward.

“Friendships last longer than marriages do,” he convinced me the evening before our JP wedding.

Many times during those early years, Chad asked with his charming smile, “Are you happy?” I believed I was happy—happy enough.

Given our present situation, the changed Chad or the true Chad saw no need for visitation, but agreed to send his court-ordered monthly check. He reminded me to be forever grateful for his money, because the “damn” kid wasn't his.

“Ronnie moved back in June,” Mom was saying. I realized she'd been talking all along. “I told you.”

I shook the cobwebs out of my head. “You did.”

“She bought a cute bungalow over by Lake Harriet.”

“Lake Harriet is close.”

“She gave me her new cell phone number when she brought vegetables from her garden the other day. The tomato on your sandwich, by the way. Wait 'til you try her squash.”

“The tomato is sweet. She was a librarian in Boston.”

“She's archiving and preserving antique books now.” Mom emptied the teapot, refilling my mug. “Sad you girls lost track. Such good friends you were. Precious little girls dancing Barbie dolls decked out in evening gowns on the front porch.”

“Ages ago.”

“You haven't mentioned Dana Norris lately.”

“She's fine. She married Erik Fowler about the time I married Chad. You remember Erik. Laid back. Red hair.”

Mom finished her tea. “Sounds familiar. I'd have to see him to remember him.”

“Dana likes staying in touch with old friends when she can.”

Through Dana, I might reconnect with a few of my former friends. I could even recover a bit of my former self by reconnecting with her, Erik, and Ronnie. Maybe even track down Jack Harwood for Chad, if I ever was in the mood to do so.

Mom pushed a plate of zucchini bread in front of me and sat back down. “There must not be many of your friends left here.”

“Probably not. Our group broke apart fast.”

“That summer was an awful mess.” Mom buttered the slices of zucchini bread. “I had high hopes for Chad. Daddy and your Aunt Judith never cared for him. I liked that nice young Canadian man the best—Ben Holland. He had such engaging blue eyes.”

Longing wrenched at my heart until I couldn't stand it. “Yes.” I forced a smile. “He did have engaging blue eyes and I liked him best, too.” I washed down my zucchini bread and stood to leave. “Mom, I need to go upstairs. I am exhausted.”

“You go on ahead. I'll be up soon. Puttering around late at night makes me think Daddy is napping on the sofa waiting on me to call him upstairs.”

I lugged two of our suitcases to my bedroom door. As I was about to go in, I saw a faint glow inside Rick's old bedroom across the hall. I supposed Mom kept a nightlight lit until the light pulsed. I peeked in. A vaporous glow rippled in the darkness.

I held my breath, rested my arm across my eyes.

Go to bed before you completely lose your mind.

I struggled to break my stare at a vision resulting from sleep deprivation and stress. I turned on my heel and stumbled into my room without looking back. Still, I slammed the door shut behind me and turned the lock. I waited a long moment in the darkness.

A small voice sputtered softly. My body eased after nothing happened on the other side of the closed door. No glow pulsed in the room or in the adjoining bathroom. I turned the nightstand lamp on low.

Caleb lay snuggled into a ball in the center of my double bed. I smiled at him lying amongst the stuffed animals I collected before I left with Chad. I smiled at the irony, seeing him with his arm wrapped around the furry, green monster Ben had given me as a token gift. I had agreed to spend the evening of my twenty-first birthday with Ben at the monster truck rally rather than going on a date, because his brother-in-law had already bought the rally tickets.

I scooped up our little bundle, as beautiful and well-behaved as we once dreamed he'd be, and the monster, and placed them on the opposite side of my bed where Edgar, Caleb's T-Rex, lay staring up at the ceiling.

Except for the thumb stuck in his mouth, my nose, and my loosely curled hair, although a much lighter brown than mine, Caleb was the spitting image of Ben, his eyes, soft cheeks, and a strong chin. He was the real reason I survived Ben's death. Our son helped me live.

Maybe his striking resemblance to his father had worn on Chad to the point he no longer wished to parent a dead friend's son. Chad was free to think whatever he chose to think, but he'd never hurt my little boy or me again.

I stole into the bathroom for a quick shower. After I slipped into pajamas and brushed my teeth, I scooted in beside Caleb and switched off the lamp.

Sometime later, while sleeping on the fringe of consciousness, a familiar voice, spoken soft and low, called me awake. My eyes probed the blackness for the one who summoned my attention. Paper crumpled in the hall.

The lock turned.

My door creaked open. A dazzling light shone beyond the doorway, and from within the brilliant light, a silhouetted man stepped into view. He carried a rolled newspaper conspicuously tucked under one arm. Words gurgled out of his mouth, as words spoken under water. I strained to hear but despite my effort, I did not. Soon after the image faded, I fell into a deep sleep.

M
other's housekeeper, Nora, arrives at eight. I'd forgotten which days until the humming vacuum cleaner woke me the next morning. The nightstand clock read nine thirty-two.

I rolled onto my side and saw Monster staring at me cockeyed from the chair where Ben once left him years ago. Caleb had chosen to set Monster in the precisely same spot. His dinosaur-print pajamas lay balled up on the pillow beside Edgar and me. His suitcase lay open on the floor in front of my dresser, clothes trailed into our bathroom.

The room appeared perfectly normal, apart from the mess. I felt normal. There was no lingering fear about seeing a strange man in my room during the night. After all, his presence was only a dream.

My phone chimed. Dana Fowler.

“Are you here?” she asked, her voice excited.

“Late last night.”

“Fantastic! Let's do coffee later. I'm free after eleven.”

“Mom might watch Caleb. I can let you know.”

“Great. Your trip went well, I hope.”

“Exhausting. You can't imagine. I've been so tired, I thought . . .”

I held back telling her about the whisperings and the peculiar glow, not to mention the gauzy figure I'd seen in the courtroom. No point in letting anybody know I might have issues—weird dreams—hallucinations. Better to keep anything mental to myself until I understood why I had started hearing voices and seeing nonexistent people and glowing lights.

“You thought what?” she asked.

“Nothing. I'd like coffee.”

“Maybe rest. We can get together another day.”

“I'm fine, actually. I slept well enough. Let's do this.”

We visited a few minutes longer, chatting about nothing, mostly Dana's repeated apology for trying to talk me out of returning to Minnesota and how my being back was the tonic she needed to revive enthusiasm to pursue her interests.

I stopped listening when she carried on about obtaining vaguely stated wants and needs, not forgetting everything she deemed important. I suppose I fell short as a friend when I abruptly ended the call, but I jumped out of bed enthused that my own life was already falling neatly into a good place.

I dashed downstairs without taking time to dress. Caleb and Mom were leaning over hundreds of jigsaw pieces spread over the dining room table.

“You let me sleep in.”

Mom patted my back. “Noon is sleeping in.”

“Dana invited me to coffee. Are you up to an afternoon with this guy?” I gave Caleb a hug.

“You bet. We've been having fun all morning.”

“Thanks for watching him. I'm glad you're having a nice day.”

“It's good.”

“You slept with me last night,” I said to Caleb.

He paused a moment. “I missed you.”

“Mommy instead of dinosaurs.”

He grinned sheepishly.

“I'm glad you found Monster. He's a good friend.”

Caleb giggled. His laughter reaffirmed my decision to move home. I ran my fingers through my tangled hair and plopped down on the chair beside him.

Mom wagged her finger at me. “I'll have you know we ate a healthy breakfast before heading over to the park. We kicked around the soccer ball and then ate popsicles on the veranda. Now
we're piecing this thing together, if we can—he insisted on the five-hundred-piece puzzle because apparently he likes dogs besides dinosaurs.”

“He must have woken up early.”

“He trotted into my room at five fifteen saying his tummy was growling.”

“You've put in a full day.”

“Grandma's making tacos and I'm helping.” Caleb squirmed in his chair to sit on his heels. “No mushrooms in tacos, Mom.”

“He's concerned about mushrooms these days, just this past weekend, as a matter of fact,” I explained. “He thinks mushrooms are poison like toadstools.”

Caleb stared at me as if he wanted to add a thought.

“I'll teach you the difference,” said Mom. “I have a few books in the study from my teaching days.” She paused while she placed a few pieces into the puzzle. “You might find fungi pictures fascinating.”

“Fun what?” He giggled again and I giggled with him.

“Fun-gi. Mushrooms, toadstools. The ones you can eat and the ones you better not touch. I used to teach biology.”

“Today is Wednesday. Wait. Thursday already,” I realized. “Labor Day on Monday confused me. All I did was pack.”

“What time are you meeting Dana?”

It's almost ten now. After lunch, I guess. I also need to find a job.”

“Oh, let the people's dirty teeth wait, babygirl.”

Mom pushed back her headband as she reached across the table to connect a red-and-blue piece into the puzzle edge. She and Caleb howled with laughter, smacked a high-five at her finding the missing piece.

“There is no hurry to find a job,” she added. “Take the rest of the week as vacation. Relax. There's plenty of time to find a dentist needing your help.”

“I need the dentist more than the dentist needs me. Paychecks are good.”

She had insisted on paying the private school's tuition for Caleb. We paid no rent. Accepting more of her generosity was out. I'd pay our way. In time, we would move into a place of our own, unless of course she needed us to stay on and help with the house.

A distinct
“Ahem”
came from a few feet away. My stomach flipped. My aunt Judith, dressed in mousy gray slacks, a patterned gray blouse, and gray vest stood in the kitchen doorway. She stared at me over the mug she cupped between her hands.

I stiffened in my chair, expecting lightning darts to shoot out of her eyes. I scrunched my shoulders and pinched the collar edges of my pajama top closer together.

“Mom forgot to mention you'd be here.” I sent Mom a frown. “I would have dressed.”

She snorted. “I shouldn't matter. Apparently lounging around all morning is routine for you. A slothful waste of time, Mallory Anne.”

I kept quiet, not wanting to deal with the most sanctimonious woman on earth. A melancholy soul, always dressing in gray—not that I ever understood why. She'd worn her dull brown hair styled in a short bob with side-swept bangs since before I was born, according to the family album.

The woman slithered to the table, and with an air of self-importance, seated herself beside Mom. Her bony forefinger poked at and slid around the puzzle pieces directly in front of her. She glanced down her nose at me now and then.

More intimidated by Judith than strange voices or apparitions, I resolved to limit my interactions with her.

Mom tapped the top of Judith's hand. “Quit picking on my girl. She's worn out from her long drive yesterday.”

Judith sipped her coffee and sniffled. “Carpe diem, I always say.”

I sniffled right back and rose from my chair. “Trite.”

After giving a smile and a nod to Nora, she moved the vacuum into Rick's former room without hesitation.

I freshened up and dressed before lifting my suitcase onto my bed, which Nora had already made, although making beds was not expected. I pushed aside the divorce papers laying on the bed to make room for a pile of slacks and tops.

Chad, with all his pent-up resentments, was no doubt feeling pleased today. He'd voiced enough regret and I'd cried my tears. No second thoughts or longing for what might have been with him. I was satisfied knowing because he cheated on me, in time he'd cheat on her.

I'd taken back my birth name—Mallory Anne Bain—a last-minute decision, but smart to break more ties to Chad. Keeping Powers for Caleb was impractical because his biological father was that nice Canadian young man—Benjamin Caleb Holland. My next legal move was to give our son his proper surname, Holland.

After setting up a coffee time and spending a few minutes on the phone with Dana, I tucked my laptop under my arm and jogged back downstairs.