Intertwined

Page 44

Everything A said meshed with her accounting. They didn’t simply venture to the past, but into their own lives. They changed things. They knew things. Add in their similar disappearances and the fact that A’s eyes had flashed to a hazel-brown when they were usually black…for a moment it was as though I was talking to Mary Ann’s mother.
The sensation disturbed me, I admit it, disturbed me so much I went a little crazy myself. I even threw A out of my office. The only way he could have known about my wife was by raiding my office, unlocking my file cases and reading my private journals.
Either that, or he was telling the truth.
Part of me, the part that had always longed to prove my wife had not been mentally ill, had wanted to believe him. But how could I believe A when I hadn’t believed her? I had hurt her, each and every time she’d tried to explain her experiences to me. I had destroyed her confidence, made her think she was crazy. To believe A, a relative stranger, was to admit she’d been right and I’d hurt her for no reason.
How could I live with the guilt of hurting the woman I loved? I couldn’t, and I knew it. So I kicked A out and left the institution. I even quit my job. I mean, the kid mentioned my daughter. Had spoken of her with utter confidence—had spoken of things he couldn’t possibly know. Or shouldn’t know. I’ve never been so stunned and upset in my life.
To believe he’s right…I can’t. I just can’t. And even if the things he told me come true…I can’t.
May 8
It’s like my wife has died all over again. I can’t get A out of my head. I find myself thinking about him, wondering how he is, what he’s doing, who is treating him. But I won’t allow myself to pick up the phone and check on him. I’m not objective about that boy. I couldn’t help the love of my life, so I certainly can’t help him. A clean break is best. Isn’t it? I used to think so. Now, two powerful words haunt me.
What if…
My current wife sees my preoccupation and believes I’m thinking of another woman. One I love more than her. I try to tell her that isn’t true, but we both know it is. I have never loved her the way I should. I’ve always loved another.
I never should have gone to that institution. I never should have taken on A’s case.
So many questions, Mary Ann thought, dazed. And so many things no longer made sense. This time her dad had spoken of both a wife and a “current” wife. One was a mentally ill woman who had given birth to her. The other was perfectly sane and had raised her. They were one and the same, though, so two wives shouldn’t have been possible. Unless…
Had the woman who raised her not been her birth mother? Again, that didn’t make sense. Mary Ann looked like her mother. They shared the same blood type. There was no doubt they were related.
And there was no doubt her mother had loved her more than anything in the world, as a real mother would. The woman had nursed her when sick, held her when she’d cried. Had sung and danced with her when she was happy. They’d had tea parties together and raced Barbie Corvettes. If Mary Ann knew nothing else, she knew she’d been loved.
Was it possible her dad had married two different women who’d looked just alike? The first had given birth to her, and the second had raised her? It was a possibility, she supposed, if far-fetched. But if so, why had he never told her?
Though she didn’t want to, she gave the journal to Riley. He stared at the bound leather for a long while before focusing on her. He didn’t say anything, just leaned forward and pressed their lips together. Soft, sweet, offering comfort.
Tears burned her eyes. “Take it back to the office, please. I don’t want him to know I took it.”
Riley nodded and left, his gaze staying on her until he disappeared around the corner. He didn’t return to her bedroom. The sun was already rising, and he had to get back. She knew that, but she missed him anyway. He’d held her while she’d read, offering what reassurance he could.
She couldn’t go to school today. She was too raw inside. She needed solitude. That’s not the only reason. Being away from her dad, away from Aden, even away from Riley, would give her the time she needed to think. Again, you’re evading. This mystery surrounding her mother disturbed her. She needed time to process it. Liar.
She wiped a budding tear from the corner of her eye. Fine. She needed Riley. Wanted his arms around her again. Wanted to talk to him, present her questions and hear his thoughts. Why had he gone? Where had he gone? To collect Victoria and escort her to school? Wasn’t he supposed to protect Mary Ann now? To protect her, he needed to be with her.
At the very least, he should have said goodbye.
God, when had she become so needy?
That doesn’t matter right now. Only one thing did, and that was Aden. He’d been right, she thought. Her dad really had thrown him out of his office. Because he’d loved her mom—her real mom? A woman who had been a little bit crazy?—and Aden had awakened memories of her that had sent him into a tailspin of uncertainty?
Pot and pans began banging downstairs and she knew her dad was up. She rose from bed, showered and dressed as if she planned to go to school. In the kitchen, her dad had breakfast prepared and waiting on the table. Scrambled eggs and toast. He was in his usual chair, hidden behind a paper. The thing that proved how upset he was was the colorlessness of his knuckles as he clutched the sports section.
There was nothing she could say to soothe him—not without admitting what she knew. And if she began talking to him, she knew she would ask questions he wasn’t yet ready to answer. Questions with answers she would be better off finding on her own. He was hiding something from her, and she didn’t want him to have the chance to lie to her.
It was odd, knowing her dad had secrets. Odd, disappointing and yeah, upsetting. He’d promised to be open and honest with her always. You promised the same, she thought, but look at her now. Lying about study groups, sneaking around, reading patient files. Guilt was suddenly swallowing her up.
“I don’t want you hanging out with that boy, Mary Ann.”
The out-of-the-blue statement surprised her; the sternness of his voice jolted her into speechlessness.
“Aden Stone is dangerous.” He set the paper down and stared over at her, his eyes devoid of emotion. “I don’t know what he’s doing in Crossroads or how you met him, but I do know he’s no one you should trust. Are you listening to me?”
Nothing in the journal, upsetting as the entries had been to her, had explained such an intense reaction. She cleared her throat. “Yes.” She was. But that didn’t mean she’d obey. Aden was a part of her life she would not give up. Ever.
“If I have to, I’ll call the school and—”
She slapped her palms against the table. “Don’t you dare! You would get him in trouble and they would pull him from class, then shove him back into a mental institution. A place he doesn’t belong and you know it! Tell me you won’t do that to him. Tell me you aren’t that cruel.”
She’d never spoken to him like that, and he blinked over at her in astonishment.
“Tell me!” Once more she slammed her hands against the table, rattling the dishes.
“I won’t,” he said softly, “but I need you to tell me you won’t hang out with him anymore.”
“Why?”
He pressed his lips together, refusing to answer.
The doorbell rang.
Her dad frowned. “Who’s that?”
“I don’t know.” She unfolded from her chair and strode to the front door, happy for the reprieve. When she opened it and saw the visitor, her heartbeat picked up speed. Riley. He looked as rugged and ruthless as always, wearing a black T-shirt and jeans, his dark hair unkempt from the wind.
“What are you doing here?” she whispered, glancing over her shoulder to ensure that they were alone. They weren’t.
“Yes, what are you doing here?” her dad asked rudely from behind her. “And who are you?”
Unperturbed, Riley inclined his head in greeting. “Hello, Dr. Gray. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“Dad, this is Riley.” Keeping the elation out of her voice was a struggle. “He’s new to my school. I’ve been showing him around and stuff.”
“Does he—”
“No,” she interjected, knowing he meant to ask if Riley hung with Aden. “He doesn’t.” He hangs with me.
“So I ask again, what are you doing here?”
“Dad!”
“It’s fine, Mary Ann.” To her dad, Riley said, “I’m here to pick up your daughter for school.”
“She likes to walk.”
“Not today. I’ll be right back. Behave,” she said to her dad. She raced into her bedroom, grabbed her backpack and soared back down the stairs. Her dad and Riley were watching each other silently.
She kissed her dad’s check, noticed that he appeared older than he ever had before, with lines of tension branching from his eyes. “Bye. Love you.”
“I love you, too.” He didn’t say anything else, didn’t try to stop her. She was glad. She didn’t know how she would have reacted or what she would have said. She needed Riley right now. Her dad had answers, but Riley had those comforting arms. Inside his shiny red sports car, she buckled.
When they rounded the street corner and were out of sight, he twined their fingers together. Her world suddenly felt right again.
“Where’d you go?” she asked.
“Had to see to Victoria, shower and change.”
“Oh.”
“I hated to leave, though.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.
Goose bumps broke out over her skin. A little bit down the road, the trees thinning, she realized he wasn’t leading her toward the school. She frowned. “Where are we going?”
He flicked her a grim smile. “You need to learn how to survive in this new world you’ve found yourself in. You also need a distraction.”