The Right Kind of Wrong (20 page)

BOOK: The Right Kind of Wrong
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It was a plausible story had my grandmother not been lying. She blinked twice as fast when she wasn't telling the truth and she was blinking like crazy. Years of Saturday night poker games with Grandpa and friends had shown me her poker face and she was wearing it now.

 
"What about the fight you had on the day Charlie left?"
 

"What do you mean?"
 

"Parker said you, Great-Grandpa James and Charlie were fighting the day he left. What were you fighting about?"

My grandmother's face turns scarlet. "That’s not really any of your business. It wasn’t Parker's either."

"So you're not going to tell us what happened?"
 

Grandma sighs and then continues. "Charlie and James constantly fought about the war and Charlie's decision not to go. I took Charlie's side. I was upset that your grandfather had gone to war and left me behind. James was of the opinion I should stand up for Wesley and maintain the perfect 'war wife' façade. To him, I was betraying Wesley."

It makes sense my grandmother would stick up for the underdog, but something was not right about the story.
 

"So Charlie disappeared into thin air because he didn't want to hear his father bitch at him anymore?"

Grandma stands and picks up her plate. "Yes. He didn't need much prodding. He'd always wanted to leave Everson anyway. Now, I'm done talking about this."
 

Of course she is. I want to tell her I know she's lying, but when Grandma makes up her mind, there's no changing it. She's obviously intent on keeping her secrets. Once we have more evidence, we’ll find out the truth.
 

I'm more determined than ever to get to the bottom of this.
 

My grandmother is quiet the rest of the night. She watches re-runs of soap operas until she's too tired to keep her eyes open.
 

After she goes to bed, Vince and I go back to my room.
 

"Is it safe to say we're not focusing the project on the war and your grandfather anymore?"

"Unless we can't figure out what happened to Charlie," I confirm, hoping that's not the case.
 

"That's not an option. We're going to figure out what happened."

I think about the project and I have no idea how to make this all work.

"Vince?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm not sure how we're going to do this project."

He looks me in the eye. "We can't back out now. We're in too deep."

"No, I want to do the project on Charlie, it’s just that I don't know how it's going to work. We have footage on my grandfather. We have random interviews about WWII but we definitely don't have anything about Charlie."

Vince picks up his computer and pats the spot beside him on the bed. "Come here, I want to show you something."

I fall on the bed next to him. On the screen are hundreds of pictures. He double clicks one and it starts to play. It's a clip from the attic. He drags and drops several boxes into a queue. His fingers move through the screens so fast, I can't keep up. When he's done moving things around, he turns the screen towards me and clicks play.
 

The show on the screen starts with the box we found in the attic, and cycles through the pictures we found, even includes the argument we had about whether or not Charlie was real. It fades to black and the Historical Society house appears. Charlie's name in the ledger takes the whole screen and then Dr. Adam's is carrying out the boxes of info and setting it on the table. The progression shows us finding out Charlie existed and leads to where we are right now. Even though nothing is edited or explained, I see the entire documentary in my mind.
 

I see the power of it. I see us winning.

"Wow!" is all I say.
 

He smirks and closes the laptop. "Right? Now we have to figure out what happened to Charlie."

I close my eyes, exhausted inside. "We'll go to the police department first thing tomorrow."
 

"You need sleep." Vince moves off the bed. Before he leaves though, he leans down and I close my eyes. I wait for the soft touch of his lips but his breath tickles my ear instead. "Goodnight, Kara." He walks out and I curse him for making my lips want his.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-S
EVEN

We arrive at 4356 Bridgeport Avenue in the early afternoon. The sun stretches the day out before us. We get out of the car and I examine the building in front of us. Gray, drab and lifeless. The sign in front of the building says Sunnyview Nursing and Rehabilitation. I'm oddly hopeful Charlie's inside.
 

"We should probably go in." Vince nudges me.

"I guess so." The lobby is empty and there's no sign of life anywhere. The front desk is unattended and the place seems reserved for ghosts. I peek around the corner and see no one.
 

"Should I look around?" Vince asks.

"I don't know. This place is kind of creepy."
 

"Not as creepy as your grandmother's attic."

"Touché."
 

"It's dinnertime." A guy who doesn't look any older than us sits behind a glass window in the lobby. His blonde hair is cropped short, his blue eyes a stark contrast to his dark skin, he wears navy scrubs and a photo id tag that reads, 'Willy-CNA.' He scowls at us. "Are you guys looking for someone in particular?"
 

"Actually, yes. We're looking for Charlie Pierce," I say.

"Hmm. No Charlie Pierce here. Maybe you've got the wrong place?"

I shake my head and pull out one of Charlie's letters . I slide it through the hole in the glass. "This is the correct address, right? See, he put Charlie Pierce and this address."

Willy examines the envelope and slides it back through the glass. "This is the right address but there is no Charlie Pierce here."

I sigh. "This was sent two years ago. Could he have been here and passed away or moved?"

"Sure." Willie shrugs.

Vince steps in. "Could you check for us?"

"You come in here griping about it being creepy and then want me to give you information? Even if I wanted to, any information we have on our residents is confidential. You know, HIPAA laws."

I let my lips quiver and I hope I can actually pull off tears. "Listen, Willy, this is life or death here. We
really
need to find Charlie Pierce. I'm not asking for his medical records or anything. I just need an address. Charlie has been missing for a very long time and I'm his family. I need to bring him home." Big, alligator tears fall onto my cheek and I'm doing such a great job acting, I almost believe it's the truth.

Willy swallows and his face softens. "Fine, fine. But you can't tell anyone I gave you this information."

Vince clears his throat. "We just want to find Charlie, okay?"

"Yeah, I got it. I need a name and birthday."

Thank God he is my grandfather's twin. "Charlie Pierce. September fourteenth, nineteen twenty."

Willy types it into his computer and then writes something down on a Post-it note. He slides it through the hole. "He was only here for a couple months after a fall. He's at a retirement community across town. I wrote down the address."

I hold onto the paper like it's a life-line. I look up to Willy. "Thank you. We really appreciate it."

"Whatever. You better not say a damn word about this."

I give him my best smile as we walk out. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Exactly!" he yells after us.

When we get back in the car, my heart is pounding so loud I swear Vince must hear it. "This is it. He's there. I just know it."

Vince squeezes my hand. "I hope."

 
The drive literally takes five minutes but I can't get out of the car. I'm frozen in my seat.

"What's the matter?"

My bones ache with worry and I'm so close to seeing Charlie in the flesh, I'm terrified. "I'm just nervous. What if he doesn't believe me? What if he has Alzheimer's or something and doesn't even remember his life?"

Vince gets out and comes to my side. He pulls me out of the car and kisses me. "That's a lot of what-if's. Let's worry about them if they come up. We need to go in there and do what we came all this way to do. Tell him the truth."

I nod and let Vince lead me inside. A large board of names and room numbers hang in the lobby and we search until we find C. Pierce. Apartment 227. The lobby has locked doors, and we can't get in without using the intercom. I don't want to be turned away before we even get a chance to explain ourselves. So we wait until an older woman walks out and we slip inside. She turns back and yells, "Hey! You can't do that!"
 

"We're going to see my Grandpa, but he didn't answer the intercom. He's probably sleeping or something."
 

The woman accepts this and moves on.
 

We take the stairs to the second floor and find Apartment 227. I take a deep breath.
Knock. Do it now.
But my hands remain at my sides. You're okay, Kara. Everything will be fine.
 

I rap on the door three times. A gruff voice inside calls, "Who the hell is it?"
 

I look to Vince. "Cable company, sir." The lock turns, the door opens and I'm face-to-face with an exact replica of my grandfather.

"You ain't the cable company."

"Charlie Pierce?"

"Obviously."

 
"My name is Kara Pierce. Can we come in?"

His expression changes and he opens the door wider and gestures us inside.
 

White walls. Bland couch. Brown, leather lazy boy. Old TV. Charlie's home is as nondescript and boring as one can get. Vince and I sit on the couch while Charlie hobbles over and collapses in his lazy boy. I look at him and it's like seeing my grandfather in the flesh. A ghost of a man I would do anything to have back.
 

"What did you say your name was?"

"Kara Pierce. My grandmother is Elaine Pierce."

At the mention of her name, his eyes bore into mine. "What are you doing here?"

"I…" I'm tongue tied. I rehearsed every word in my head on the way here and now, everything in me is frozen, again.
 

He turns his attention to Vince, "She's not going to pass out or something, is she?"

"I don't think so…"
 

"I need to tell you something," I blurt.

He looks at me expectantly.
 

I open my mouth but nothing comes out. I fumble for the right words, the right way to tell him the truth, but the right words don't exist."I'm sorry, I've been thinking about this moment since we found out about you. Now that it's here, I don't know what to say to you."

His expression softens. "How about you start with what you're doing here."

I inhale, trying to suck in all the air in the room as if it will give me the courage to just say it. "We came here because you've been missing for a very long time."

He laughs, but it's the I'm-laughing-at-you-not-with-you kind of laugh. "I'm here aren't I? Can't be missing if you've found me."

I'm starting to understand why a lot of people weren't Charlie's biggest fan. "I think you know what I'm talking about. Everson, Iowa. Wesley Pierce. Ring any bells?"

"They're not part of my life anymore," he says so quietly I barely hear him.

"But he was your family. So was my grandma." How can he act like this isn't a big deal?

"Family don't cheat, steal and lie."

"You're right," I say, hoping he's admitting his transgressions. "But family also forgives, accepts and moves on."

"Well, there's not much of us left now is there?"

"That's the reason I'm here. You have more family than you ."

"I don't know what you mean by that."

I sigh, not sure I'm ready to drop this bomb. My heart thumps wildly against my chest and the scratch in my throat is back. "After you left Everson, Grandma found out she was pregnant. Charlie, you're a father. A grandfather.
My
biological grandfather."

His hand goes to his mouth and his chin quivers. If he starts crying, I'm a goner. He looks so much like my grandfather right now, it's like I'm trapped in some sort of déjà vu. I want to reach out to him, to tell him I know what it feels like to be betrayed by your own family. But Vince whispers in my ear.
 

"I'm going to leave you two for a couple minutes. I need to do something quick."
 

I nod and when Vince leaves I decide to go for it. I move off the couch and sit by Charlie's rocker and reach for his hand. He surprises me by holding on and squeezing instead of batting me away. I'm not sure what the appropriate words are. I wait for it to come to me but it doesn't. So I sit there and watch Charlie processing the bomb I just dropped on him, and it breaks my heart.
 

"I always wanted a son."

I look up at his blotchy, wrinkled face. I have to remind myself I'm looking into Charlie's eyes and not my grandfather's. "Well you have one. You need to come home and meet him, Charlie."

"And Elaine...?"

I smile. "She's waiting for you at home."

A gasp escapes his lips and he start to sob. Almost immediately, the tears well in my eyes and the floodgates are open. I'm sure we're quite the sight. I maneuver my hand to his back, unsure if it's wanted.
 

Just when I think I've composed myself enough to say something, the jerking motion of his body keeps the tears coming.
 

"Are you… okay?" I ask when his sobs and sniffles subside.

"I thought I'd never see her again. And you… it's just all a little much to take in."

"You're telling me," I mumble.

"How did you even find me?"

"It wasn't easy," I say. "If it weren't for Vince actually, we would have never known. He found some pictures of you and Grandpa in the attic and when I told him that my grandfather didn't have a twin named Charlie, things got pretty weird."

BOOK: The Right Kind of Wrong
13.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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