Strange in Skin (11 page)

My stomach churned and my heart ached as I saw my mother in the hospital bed. And then I sighed,
knowing that I was about to be a coward again. All of my strength dissipated when I realized that such
a truth could possibly cause her frail heart to fail once and for all and then what good would the truth
be if it had all been revealed and then the one honest, loving, respectful parent I had left, the one
person who encouraged me and uplifted me was gone? If she didn’t know, I would not, could not be
the one to sit here right now and tell her of my accusations toward the man she thought she knew and
loved. It would still have to keep my burden bundled up inside of me, tearing at me, but safer there
than to cause physical harm to my loving mother.

The silence was broken by the big heavy door to the room cracking open. I looked up expecting to
see Buck there. Instead, I gasped as Mrs. Anderson stepped into my mother’s hospital room. I wasn’t
the only one completely shocked. My mother look horrified as well. And just with that one look on
her face, I knew for absolute certain that my mother did indeed know something was up.

“Helene, how are you doing?” Mrs. Anderson asked, removing the hood she had over top of her
head and exposing her brown hair streaked in gray sticking out under a white lace shawl that she wore
often.

I had never realized before how raspy and coarse Mrs. Anderson’s voice was. It sounded as if she
had been a chain smoker for years. Her face seemed hardened and stern, so much the opposite of my
mother, but of course, she could never compare to her in my eyes.

“What is she doing here?” my mother asked, the question almost a hiss coming from her mouth. She
suddenly looked even more upset than she had before as she looked toward my father.
“You really shouldn’t be here,” he said, standing.

 

She raised her arms up as if she meant no harm. “I know, I know. Please, I need to speak with you,”
she said to my father.

“Are you kidding me?” My voice sounded louder than anyone else’s in the room. “How did she get
in? Didn’t they ask her if she was family at the front desk?” I found myself now standing, rage rushing
through my veins. I wanted so badly to physically remove her from the room. She had caused this
family so much pain and now she had the gall to come to my mother’s bedside while she was in the
hospital? Who did she think she was? I felt the sting of tears filling my eyes without my consent. This
seemed to be happening a lot lately. I was so out of control. I had too much built up. Mrs. Anderson
had triggered an intense emotion from within me, and I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to refrain
myself from truly losing my temper now.

Buck ducked into the room just then, a look of concern on his face for what was going on. Surely he
didn’t doubt my opinion now seeing that she had come here in person only to interfere further with the
relationship of my parents.

“This is not a good idea,” my mother said, trying to sit up more now. Her voice still remained so
calm. Why had I not genetically gotten that gene passed down to me?
My father walked toward Mrs. Anderson and looked over his shoulder to his wife laying in the
hospital bed, her condition fragile. “This will only take a moment,” he told her. “I’ll be right back.”
He gave Buck a hard look on his way out.

As if Buck could read his mind, he suddenly came over to me and grabbed the back of my arm.
“Come on. Let’s take a walk, Anna.”

I was so stunned by what was happening that I didn’t even put up a struggle. I looked back at my
mother, into her suddenly very sad eyes and my heart broke seeing her like this. I almost couldn’t
stand to be in this room for another moment and allowed Buck to direct me out into the desolate
hallway.

My eyes scanned the dimly lit corridor. Where had my father and Mrs. Anderson gone? They were
nowhere to be seen.

Buck continued to walk further away from the room as my legs shuffled forward right along with
him. He led me to a small waiting room, and I collapsed into a scratchy, stuffed-arm chair that
smelled of some sort of lemony cleaner. A TV hummed quietly above our heads. Buck sat across from
me and gave me a look. His eye seemed to be even worse looking than before, but I noticed he could
open it wider than he had been able to earlier.

I knew I should be back there in that room with my mother. She was all alone and God knew what
was going through her head right now. I didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t want to go back there,
and I didn’t want to see my father anywhere near Mrs. Anderson, the two of them standing even
remotely close to one another. The thought made me want to puke. I slumped over and rested my head
in my hands as the clock on the wall ticked, the noise starting to get on my nerves.

Why wasn’t Buck saying anything? He was usually good for some sort of remark, always putting his
two cents in. He just sat there, not even looking my way, staring off in a daze.

 

I suddenly felt the need to break the silence. “Buck?”

 

“Huh?” He looked up now, raising his eyebrows so high that it made thick creases in his forehead.

He looked tired.
I sat back in my chair and crossed my arms in front of me. “What do you think she wants?”

He sighed, probably hoping the conversation would be about anything but my father and Mrs.
Anderson and the situation at hand. Maybe he was afraid to talk about it in case I would sock him in
the face again.

“I honestly have no idea, Anna.” He suddenly reached over and held his hands out. I automatically
repositioned myself so that my hands were resting in his. I felt the warmth of his skin soothing. “Listen
to me,” he began, now looking directly into my the eyes. “Everything is going to be fine.”

I searched his one good eye for any sort of doubt. He seemed to be sincere. I had to admit, it did
make me feel a little better for a moment, but life had been too perfect before. Something bad was
bound to be thrown our way. This was definitely an obstacle that could potentially break up our entire
family and the tightly-knit bond of trust that had seemed to always have been there as far back as I
could remember. Something was happening to the James family, and anyone who tried to be insightful
and look into the future would only surely be able to see disaster ahead. It was crouching all around
me like shadows that never went away, always hovering, ready to pounce at any moment and come
crushing down around all of us.

We sat there for what seemed like hours, my hands being held inside of Buck’s. I could feel the
sweat from our hands pressed together, but neither one of us seemed to mind. There was nothing left
to do, nothing left to say. When we released our grips, we would have to go back and face reality.
The cruelty of it all truly sickened me. It was so much worse for me than Buck, but he too would have
to be witness to my family’s shame. He already had.

My mind wandered to the only thing that could make me happy, the only person in the entire world I
really longed to be with at this moment. Emry’s face flashed before me in my head. He smiled and for
a second, all of my worries were swept away.

“Anna.”
I looked up at Buck, his eyes sympathetic towards me.

“We have to go back now.” His eyes glanced up toward the clock and then his hands fell, releasing
mine.

 

I held them there in the air for a moment before pulling them in tight to my side. I stood up and
nodded.

We walked more slowly back to my mother’s room, everything around me a foggy haze. We passed
by room after room, all the doors closed as I imagined each patient in bed sleeping. We passed by the
front desk and the nurses sitting behind it who eyed us silently as we walked on. There was a bench
up ahead and a young woman sat there, her long brown hair covering her face as she slouched over
ever so slightly. I looked at her as we went by and she turned her head up and met my eyes. She was
pretty but her face was hardened. She was obviously upset by something. Was she going through
something similar to what I was? Her lips were slightly pouty and her green eyes narrowed for a split
second as I stared at her. Then she looked away, and I did the same as Buck touched my arm. I turned
toward him and forced a quick smile.

“Ready?” he asked.
I nodded. He started to open the door. “Buck,” I said quickly.
He turned to give me one last moment of attention.
“Stay close by me.”
He opened the door wider letting me enter first.

Chapter 6

The days following my mother’s admission to the hospital whizzed by in a blur. I became full of
responsibility for once with running the store, taking care of Matthew and all of the housework. The
holidays were in full swing. Everyone thought I should just close the store temporarily, but I
welcomed any sort of activity that would keep my mind off everything going on around me.

My mother came home after staying in the hospital for a few days. They had put her on some sort of
new medication to help regulate her heart rhythm, but she was very tired when she finally got home
and seemed to constantly sleep. My father would pop in every now and again to see how she was
doing, but he was spending a lot of late nights out. I never asked where he was going. No one said
anything further about Mrs. Anderson, and my mother gave me no more indication that she had any
knowledge that something was going on other than how she had reacted by seeing Mrs. Anderson that
night at the hospital. I tried not to dwell on it anymore. I could feel the tension all around me, but with
mom being sick, I knew the problem wouldn’t be addressed. For all I knew, perhaps they thought their
reputation was far more important than getting at the bigger issue at hand, and even when she got
better, nothing more would be said. I knew that nothing would be the same between any one of us, and
I was sure that they knew that as well even if they tried as hard as they could to put up a good front to
everyone else.

I spent my days tending to the antique store and thinking about Emry Logan, and then I would come
home and make dinner and then lay in bed and think about Emry Logan. I became restless anticipating
the next time I would be able to see him, get to talk to him or even touch his beautifully tanned skin. I
would get out the book that contained the brief notes he had written to me and read them over and
over, memorizing every word and the way he wrote the words as well. I found myself dreaming about
him almost every night. Sometimes the dreams would be cruel as he would come close to me and hold
out both of his arms toward me, yet I could never reach him no matter how hard I tried. And other
times, I would find myself running down a dark corridor, much like the ones they had at the jail, and I
would scream his name out. I would wake up in a panic, praying that I hadn’t actually said his name
out loud in my sleep.

I knew I was becoming someone completely different than I had been just a few months ago. I had
once felt content with my life. And now there stood a woman in the mirror who looked like Anna
James, but she was worn down and beaten. I felt like digging my fingers in the ground and pleading
for some sort of justice for all the good I had done. Didn’t that count for something? Shouldn’t
something good come my way in return?

Emotions flowed through me I had never experienced before. I had once boxed myself in thinking
everything around me was already perfect, that nowhere else in the entire world could I find such
peace than with my family, the church, the store. Now I dreamed of helping Emry Logan escape from
prison and running away with him to some tropical island where I imagined him holding me in his
strong arms, and just being there with him would make all of my troubles here in Seneca go away
forever. I’d be able to breathe again. These mood swings were agonizing to try to take control of. I
felt like those teenage hormones that I thought had skipped over me were finally catching up. I hated
my life. I wanted out, but I wanted to take Emry with me. My profound obsession with him only added
to the craziness of my moods.

I heard the roar of an engine outside and hurried over to the window to see who it was. A black
Mustang sat parked in front of the house. I didn’t know anyone who drove a Mustang. Out of the
driver’s side, a short, middle-aged woman with dark brown roots protruding from her dyed blondishcolored hair, got out. She turned and stood to stare at the house. I noticed she wore overly large black
sunglasses as she turned to slam her door shut. She moved to the back of the car and opened the trunk
to retrieve a pink suitcase with red stripes.

I was still racking my brain with who it could be when I opened up the front door as she walked up
the porch steps. She brushed right by me and threw the suitcase down on the hardwood floor with a
loud thud.

“Annie, are you really that surprised to see me?”

Then I instantly knew who she was. “What are you doing here?” I asked. It was Carlin, my aunt.
She was my mother’s baby sister. I hadn’t seen her in probably over ten years. I never cared for her
much. She thought she was better than everyone else. She was a free spirit, drifting from here to there,
never living in one place for very long and always wanting to experience new things to help restore
what little youth she had left. She and my mother never saw eye-to-eye. My mother wanted a family,
and Carlin didn’t believe in the concept. They rarely spoke. I curiously examined her. She still looked
the same, only aged with small wrinkles stemming outwards slightly from the edges of her mouth and
eyes. She had permanent indents molded into her forehead, and she had gained a little weight. She
always referred to me as Annie, saying it in a spiteful manner. I could remember that even as a little
girl, I detested the nickname. When I was little, I had always been relieved when her visits ended.
Our personalities had always clashed.

She glanced around the room and huffed as if agitated by the way the house looked. “So I heard my
sister is sick.”

“Who told you that?”
She took her long black dress coat off and put one hand on her hip impatiently. “John called me.”
“He did?” My voice cracked with surprise.