Finding Me (16 page)

“And you’ve known that all your life. The fact that Mimi is your stepmother is nothing new to you, but her death is. It’s still a grief process, no matter the blood relation. Not to mention, your bond with your father was unusually close by any definition. His death alone would be more than enough to put you in dangerous psychological territory.”

“Thanks for being concerned about me, Denice, but I’ve got to know why my father took me away from here—a life that, from first glance, seems so perfect. I’m going to the local library tomorrow to look through the newspaper archives, but some things, I believe I’ve just got to see for myself.”

“At first glance, is right. I’m sure there are plenty of people who would look at my family and, at first glance, think we were just fine, too.” Denice’s father, a successful attorney, had taken emotional abuse to a whole new level, mixed in with regular bouts of physical abuse to match. Her mother had more or less checked out and allowed it to happen, putting on a brave face
publicly when necessary but staying numbed down on booze and pills most of the time.

“I know you’re right, and I promise I’ll be careful. It’s just that I’ve arrived at the perfect time to try and get some answers. This job just happened to be available, Kenmore just happens to own an empty place I can rent, and I met my mother and sister my first visit at church. She’s pregnant, did I tell you that? My sister? If I walk away now, I think I’ll spend the rest of my life regretting it.”

“How long are you planning to stay?”

“The job is just through the summer, but I don’t think I’ll need to stay that long. As soon as I get enough information that I’m satisfied, I can invent some sort of emergency that calls me back to California. I’ll give my notice and be on my way. But there is one big problem, and I need to ask you a couple of really huge favors.”

“What do you need?”

“First, Frank Stevenson needs to come by my apartment sometime today. Can you let him in?”

“Sure, but what’s he coming for?”

“Picking up the bear.”

“Wait, what? Tell me you have not sold your bear to that man. You’ve been refusing to even talk to him about it for years.”

“There’s not enough room for it at my place, we all know that’s true. A six-foot carved bear does not belong in a tiny one-bedroom. Besides, I don’t have any choice. I wrote a check today for the deposit and rent and it won’t clear unless I get some money in my account fast. Not to mention, I’ll run out of food money by the end of the week.”

“You can’t sell that! You’ve lugged that thing with you all your life. We nearly broke Jones’s back and dented his truck bed hauling that thing over to your current place. And for as many years as Frank Stevenson has been trying to get you to sell that to him, we both know he’s not offering you anywhere near market value for it.”

“Well, I don’t have time to look for a better deal. I need the money today.”

“If I had the money, I’d lend it to you.”

“I know you would. But since you don’t, can you grab a deposit slip out of my desk drawer and take his check to the bank for me?”

“This is not a good idea on so many levels.” She paused. “What if your other family figures out who you are? Staying longer like this, I still say it’s too dangerous.”

“I’ve been thinking about that. Maybe I should just tell them who I am.”

“Absolutely not! We talked all about this before you left California, and you know that is a bad idea on so many levels—emotionally, financially—any way you look at it, it’s a bad idea.”

“I don’t think they could hurt me financially. Dad and Mimi were overextended to the point of bankruptcy, so they didn’t leave any kind of inheritance to be fought over.”

“But you still have a bunch of your dad’s carvings, and those things could sell for several thousand dollars. And the furniture he made for your bedroom—well, I’m betting it would bring in a fair chunk of change at auction.”

Kelli thought of her headboard back home. The entire piece was a carving in relief, showing an elfin village nestled in a forest. The smell of the alder wood still reminded her of Daddy and the months he had spent perfecting this particular piece for her during her
Lord of the Rings
phase. “All of those things are worth way more to me than the money.”

“And that’s what I’m saying. You’ve got to protect them, and the only way you can do that for sure is to keep your identity an absolute secret.”

“But wouldn’t they want to know? After the initial shock, I’m thrilled to know that my mother and siblings are still alive.”

“Yes, but your mother and siblings didn’t decide to leave and
start a new life without you. Can you imagine how that would feel to them? To know that the man they loved and trusted and probably have fond memories about, dumped them and never looked back?”

“You’re right. Of course you are.” Being the one who was chosen was crushing; to be the one left behind would be all-out annihilating. “Well, I’m keeping the job, but I promise I will use excessive caution with what I say.”

“You better. For your own sake, and for theirs, as well.”

Kelli drove to the Shoal Creek Public Library. She had been delighted to learn it held a large collection of old newspapers on microfilm, and that the microfilm readers were set up so that she could copy articles onto a USB flash drive. She planned to spend the afternoon searching for anything and everything she could find about her family.

She entered the keywords
David Waters
and found several articles about various awards he’d received as a broker. She found a picture of her father and Kenmore at the ribbon-cutting ceremony when they’d opened their new office. That photo alone made her believe she was doing the right thing by taking this job. Kenmore would have been around her father more than just about anyone else. He would be the best possible source of information for her.

Missing Father and Daughter Declared Dead.
The emotional force of the headline knocked Kelli back in her chair. The only article she had seen even mentioning this possibility was early on when they were newly missing. Her mother had refused to have even a memorial service for them, but now, two years later, she had gone to court to have them declared dead. It felt almost like a betrayal.
Why didn’t you look for me and find me?

According to attorneys for the Waters family, probate judge Joseph Vandiver signed an order Thursday afternoon declaring David Waters and Darcy Waters legally dead.

David Waters (41) and Darcy Waters (1) went missing after a boating accident
in South Carolina over two years ago. Since then, the
family has held out hope, hiring investigators and doing their own repeated searches of the area. No bodies have ever
been found.

Alison Waters requested the legal declaration in order to become eligible to receive her husband’s life insurance benefits. She and her two remaining children still live in
the Shoal Creek area.

Life insurance? Of course her father had provided life insurance. It would have helped her mother and the kids stay financially stable. Had he planned this far enough in advance that the policy had been sizable and intentional? Somehow, knowing that her family had been provided for in some way eased her guilt. Her father hadn’t run off and left them helpless.

This better feeling lasted only until she remembered what Denice had told her last week—about the other family, the one that was still being sued for return of life insurance money when the father showed up alive sixteen years after disappearing. If Kelli revealed the truth, would Alison and Beth be able to return the money, or would it ruin them?

She downloaded the remaining articles onto her USB drive and got up to leave. When she got back to the hotel, away from any prying eyes, she would print all this out in their tiny little business center. No one would see her there.

She carried the microfilm canister back up to the librarian, thanked her, then made for the door. She needed to go back and spend some time really digging through all the information she had. There had to be answers somewhere.

“Alison, I need to ask your advice about something, because I really don’t know what to do.”

Alison waved Rand into her house. The young man looked exhausted. “Of course. Tell me what’s wrong.”

He followed her just inside the door, then stopped. “Nothing’s wrong, exactly. Maybe it’s normal, for all I know about these things. It’s just that, well, Beth keeps having these nightmares. Two, three, four times a week she wakes up screaming. It’s always dreams about how she has done something to hurt or neglect the baby.”

Alison exhaled slowly, relieved that the problem was nothing more than bad dreams. “Pregnancy hormones play all sorts of tricks on a woman. I know it’s not easy on you or her, but other than maybe reading something soothing at bedtime, I’m not sure what kind of helpful suggestions I have for you.”

“The problem is”—Rand looked at Alison, dark circles under his eyes—“Beth seems overly obsessed with us being as good at being parents as David and you were. She’s putting all this pressure on herself, and on me, to live up to this unobtainable goal.”

Alison laughed outright. “We were far from the perfect parents.”

“You know that you’ve already been sainted in my eyes, and I’m sure David was much the same, but I guess what I’m asking is, do you think maybe the next time you are together, you could tell her some stories of the times when things didn’t go right? Especially when she was a baby? Let her see that everyone makes mistakes every now and then?”

“Some of the stories of our mistakes would probably terrify the poor kid, but you can count on me. I’ll spend some time thinking up some of our more spectacular failures, and make sure I bring them up at reasonable intervals. In fact, I’m planning to stop by your place in a couple of hours. I’ll start then.”

“Thanks. I knew I could count on you.” Rand leaned over and hugged her. “I’ve got to get back to work. You won’t tell her I came by?”

“Are you kidding? We both know better than that. This is our little secret.”

“Perfect. Thanks again, Alison.” He hurried out the door, and Alison walked out to wave from the porch.

Stories of their mistakes as parents. Wow. She could fill a few books with those. She wondered if mistakes as a wife and couple should be included in that list.

Definitely not. It was better to remember the good times and to try to forget the rest.

Still, as she revisited her and David’s years as parents, the memories didn’t want to segregate by theme, so she ended up remembering a lot of things she would rather have forgotten. Angry words, slamming doors, broken promises.

She kept getting drawn back into one particular memory. David had said he’d be home from work just after five because Alison needed to be at the school to help set up the silent auction. Four-year-old Beth had been whiny and fussy all day, and Max had come home from school with a big project he needed to work on and a swollen elbow from falling off the swings.

When Alison finally wrangled them to the table at a quarter after five, David still wasn’t home. She supposed she should go ahead and start feeding them, David would be home any minute. She set the beef stroganoff on the table.

“This is yucky,” “Want plain noodles,” and “Blech,” were the comments flung at her.

“Sorry guys, this is tonight’s dinner. It’s your daddy’s favorite, so if you want to be just like him, you can eat some, too. He’ll be here to eat with you in just a minute.”

Time ticked past, and still he did not come. She tried calling
his office, but there was no answer. Finally, at a quarter after six he walked through the door. By then, she knew there was no way she could get everything ready for the silent auction. She rushed out the door, barely taking time to listen to his excuse about a hard day, and hurried to the school to salvage things as best she could.

It was well after ten when she got home that night, and the house was all dark—not surprising since David went to bed early. She was exhausted, and embarrassed at how ill prepared she had been, but things had turned out reasonably well, all things considered. She walked in to find the dinner plates still on the table, the platter of stroganoff still out, and the milk—long since warm—on the counter.