Always in My Heart (7 page)

Callie was never one to buy into romantic ideals. Real life had taught her that bad things happened all the time.

Being pregnant and estranged from Nigel, and her sisters, she had left and gone to Florida to live with her college friend, Tamara, who’d decided to head back to Miami to continue her college studies where she could be closer to her family.

Callie opted to pick up her studies—and her life—in Florida.

Nigel had said he wanted to make a difference in the world, and Callie had wanted to do the same, which was what had led her into the field of counseling. She wanted to be able to guide young kids who might be at risk of heading down the wrong path. What better way to reach out to them than through the school system as a counselor? It hadn’t been easy, being a single mother. But Callie had always been a fighter. So she made it happen.

It had been a definite challenge to balance working, motherhood and schooling. Giving birth to Kwame the year before she’d finished her undergraduate degree, it had taken Callie an extra year to get her B.A. Then, through sheer dogged determination, she went on to get her Masters in Social Work.

Callie loved her job. She loved working in the school system and knowing that she was making a difference with kids on the fringe. Kids who were at an impasse. Kids who had perhaps gone through hardships in their lives and like her, did not trust authority. She related as well, because she had been one of them. So they instinctively knew that her experience was real. She wasn’t just another adult trying to tell them they needed to do the right thing. She was someone who had lived in their shoes, had gone through her own heartbreak and had come out on the other side. She was a living example that you could have a rough past and still go on to be successful.

She had worried that her own son might take a wrong path, secretly angry that he didn’t have a father in his life. It was so hard for boys. Callie understood that they especially needed male mentors.

And while Kwame was mostly a good kid, he’d begun acting out last year, talking back, not listening, seeming to disconnect from her and cling to his friends. And Callie had understood why. Because she’d broken up with Philip, the man he’d come to see as a father figure.

Callie focused on her son and his father. How odd that they were all here now, and Kwame seemed happier than ever.

Nigel was what he’d needed all along.

Because Nigel was fitting into the father role as if he’d been one his entire life.

Chapter 7

C
allie had no time to get into how her day had gone when she and Kwame returned home shortly after three o’clock, because Uncle Dave, who had been sitting on his recliner, stood the moment she entered the house. “I’m glad you’re back,” he said, looking stressed.

“Is something wrong?” Callie asked.

“Hell, yes, something’s wrong. Turned into world war three after you left. It’s a damn shame, I tell you. Your poor aunt’s barely been laid to rest and your sisters can’t get along, even now.”

Callie groaned. “Where are they?”

“Upstairs. In each of their rooms. Haven’t seen either of them for a good hour.”

Callie started up the stairs. “I’d better talk to them. Help them work things out.”

“Actually, I’d like you and your sisters to come to my room. It’s time I have a talk with all of you.”

Callie stopped. “Oh, sure.” She looked beyond her uncle to Kwame. “I imagine Kwame doesn’t need to be there?”

“What I have to say is just for you and your sisters.”

“All right. Kwame, this would be a good time to set up your Wii system.” Callie had had the foresight to pack it, exactly for a time like this. “Uncle Dave, can he set up his game in the living room?”

“Of course.”

Her uncle made his way up the stairs, Callie and Kwame followed behind. Callie saw her uncle heading to Deanna’s door as she went into the bedroom with Kwame.

She unpacked the Wii system, and Kwame scooped up the games. The two of them brought the system downstairs.

“You’ve got it, right?” Callie asked, but she already knew that her son knew how to put it together.

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay. I’ll be upstairs.”

Moments later, she was on the second floor of the home and heading to her uncle’s bedroom door, which was open. Inside the room, she first saw Deanna, who was standing by the window, her arms crossed over her chest. Then she saw that Natalie was on opposite side of the large bedroom, her eyes cast downward.

Uncle Dave was on the bed. Once Callie entered and came to a stop in the center of the room, Uncle Dave cast a glance at all three sisters in turn and heaved a weary sigh.

“Look at you three,” he said. “Unable to get along after all this time. Hell, Deanna, you’re standing with your arms crossed over your chest. Natalie, you’re standing as far from her as you possibly can. And Callie—you’re in the middle once again. Your aunt did not go through all this trouble to take care of you only to see you at odds like this. And at the very least, her death should bring you back together. Shame on you if you can’t see it.”

“Uncle Dave, I agree with you,” Callie said, then glanced from Natalie to Deanna. “A lot of years have passed. Wasted years. But I thought…I thought Natalie and Deanna were getting beyond their differences.”

“So did I,” Deanna huffed. “But even though I’m the one who was wronged all those years ago, Natalie is the one acting like the victim.”

“Hush!” Uncle Dave hissed, his tone making it clear he was tired of the bickering.

“What happened in the hours I was gone?” Callie couldn’t help asking.

“I simply said—”

But Natalie didn’t get to finish her statement. Because Uncle Dave quickly interjected, “You think anything you all say about the past matters right now? Your Auntie Jean’s dead and gone.”

And when his voice cracked, Callie felt a stab of pain in her heart. She glanced in her sisters’ directions, noticed that something had changed in their expressions.

They were ashamed. Callie could see that on her sisters’ faces.

“My God, I know Jean raised you all to be better than this. To love each other. To forgive.”

Neither of the sisters said anything. Because they knew their uncle was right. After all these years, it was time to put aside their differences.

“You’re right,” Deanna said softly. She looked toward Natalie. “Maybe I…overreacted today. I just thought that once again you were trying to justify what you did, put the blame on me.”

Natalie waved a hand. “Deanna, I’m so tired of the fighting. I don’t want to rehash everything. That’s where we went wrong today…even trying to talk about it. It got us nowhere.”

“I agree,” Deanna said. She paused briefly, and Callie noticed her shoulders shake. “What happened between us was a long time ago,” Deanna went on. “At the end of the day, you’re still my sister. If Auntie Jean dying hasn’t made that clear, then nothing will. I want to work to get past everything.”

Natalie was the first to move across the room. Deanna walked toward her. Then the two embraced for a long moment, and when they pulled apart, there were tears in each of their eyes.

Callie went over to her sisters and put an arm around each of them, making it a group hug. “Ten years have passed,” she said softly. “Ten long years. And this is what brought us together again. A funeral. Uncle Dave’s right. It’s high time we all get along.”

“Now that’s more like it,” Uncle Dave said, and dabbed at his own eyes. “Your family’s all you’ve really got in this world. If you can’t forgive the people who are supposed to be most important to you…”

Callie couldn’t help thinking of Nigel, and wondering if he would be able to forgive her for keeping his son from him all these years. She had been important to him.

Once.

But she pushed Nigel out of her mind and concentrated on her sisters. “I know I wasn’t specifically a part of your conflict,” Callie began, “but I drifted away from you both just the same. I kept my son’s paternity from everyone, because I was afraid to trust. I think we all were. And you don’t need a trained psychologist to tell us why. It’s pretty hard to trust when your own mother abandoned you.”

“Speaking of which,” Uncle Dave said, “there’s something else I want to discuss with you. Something of utmost importance.” He got to his feet and walked toward the large maple dresser in his room. “I wanted you all to make your peace before I mentioned this to you.”

Callie stared at him, perplexed. “What are you talking about?”

He withdrew an envelope from the dresser. Then he turned back to them, saying, “Your aunt wanted you to have this. But only once she had passed.”

“What is it?” Callie asked.

“It has to do with your mother. That’s all I know.”

Callie’s heart began to pound. On one hand she had told herself that she never cared to know anything else about the mother who had abandoned them. Miriam Hart had left them, and that was all there was to it. If their mother had loved them, she never would have walked out of their lives without so much as a glance backward.

But what if there was something else going on? The explanation for
why
she had done what she had done? Was there some reason that would excuse away her neglectful behavior?

Deanna was the one to take the envelope from their uncle and open the flap. She pulled out the two sheets of paper it held and began to read the letter out loud.

“Dear Callie, Deanna and Natalie. I am writing this letter in the event of my passing. I do not believe that secrets should go to the grave with people, not when answers to questions still remain. So that’s what this letter is about. Providing answers.

“As you know, your mother brought you to my house one day years ago. She said she would be back for you, but she never returned. Callie, I know that you in particular felt betrayed. Being the oldest, you couldn’t understand why your mother wouldn’t come back. You had a better grasp of reality than your younger sisters did. And while I don’t condone what your mother did, I ask that you try to have some compassion for her.

“Your mother dropped you at my place not because she didn’t love you, but because she did. She wanted to protect you. I don’t know the details. All I know is that she was in a bit of trouble. She didn’t even confide in me what that trouble was, but I suspected it might have involved the law. I had always expected that she would return. Whether in a few months, or even a year. But the first year passed, and then the second, and then the third…and you know the rest. I did hear from your mother for the first few years every now and then. She would tell me that she was still unsafe, not giving me more details than that. She added that she loved you very much, and said—pleaded with me not to tell you that she had called because she didn’t want to get your hopes up. She wanted you to know she was coming back only once she was certain she
could
come back.

“Again, I’m not sure exactly what happened—exactly what went on with your mother. I do know that she had a boyfriend at one point that I didn’t like. Someone who I saw as trouble. He could be involved. I’m sorry, I don’t remember his name.

“When years passed and I heard nothing more from your mother, I figured that she was dead. I know I should’ve trusted you with this information a long time ago, given you a more concrete reason as to why she left. But I didn’t want to sour your opinion of her. Callie, with you being so angry, I thought you could possibly hate your mother if you thought she’d been involved in something illegal. But I’m telling you now because if there’s a possible chance that she’s out there, I would love for you to be able to find her.

“I will add lastly that your mother absolutely loved you. No, she wasn’t always the best mother, but she did love you. Sometimes the path we take in this life is not the best one. We have to pay for our mistakes one way or another. I am certain that your mother has paid for her mistakes one million times over. Because they cost her three little girls who meant the most in the world to her.

“I love you. And I hope you will have a sense of peace. I also hope that you will not be angry at me for not sharing this with you before. I stated my reasons, and hope you can understand. God bless you.

“Love, Auntie Jean (Mom).”

Callie took the letter from Deanna’s hands after her sister had completed the reading of it. She quickly scanned the very words her sister had read, as if for more confirmation of what she had just heard. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe it, but there was something in her brain that didn’t allow her to accept that it was completely legitimate.

Why would their aunt keep such secrets from them? If she knew their mother had been in some sort of trouble, why hadn’t she told them that before? It would have made a lot of difference.

But then another thought came to her. What if their aunt was lying? Wanting to soften the blow of the loss of their mother, she had come up with something to help them feel less guilt, less hurt?

No sooner than that thought came to her, Callie shook her head. No, Auntie Jean wouldn’t do something like that to them. Especially not as a deathbed confession.

“What do you think this means?” Deanna asked.

“It means that what we thought was true wasn’t,” Natalie said, her voice tinged with emotion. “All this time we assumed that Mom ran off and left us because she didn’t want to be a mother. That clearly wasn’t the case.”

Callie found herself shaking her head. She was doubtful. Had their mother been in trouble for over twenty years? “What if Mom gave Auntie Jean a convoluted story?” she asked. “Something to make it seem like what she was doing was okay. Auntie Jean would believe it, of course, but that doesn’t make it true.”

At Callie’s comment, her sisters stared in her direction, looks of surprise on their faces. “You don’t really believe that, do you?” Natalie asked.

Of course Natalie would ask this. She was the youngest, and the one who had held on to the belief that their mother would return for the longest time. “I don’t know what to believe,” Callie explained. “If Mom was in some sort of trouble, why didn’t she tell us about it? And I don’t mean when we were younger. But once we got older, she could have reached out to us. She could have sent letters to us. Why insist on keeping us in the dark?”

“What if she couldn’t reach out to us?” Deanna suggested. “What if… What if she died?”

The very words sent a chill down Callie’s spine. But she knew that the possibility was true.

And yet she didn’t want to believe that her mother could have been dead possibly for years, not when she had been so angry with the woman for never returning.

Callie only wished that Auntie Jean had told them about this years earlier. It would have made a difference.

But Callie understood psychology, and wouldn’t be surprised if her aunt had feared that they would reject her had she told them the truth before. After having raised them for years, she may have been afraid that she would lose them in some way. That their attention and affection would have suddenly been focused on their lost mother.

Of course, that wouldn’t have happened. The girls had seen Auntie Jean as a mother in every sense of the word.

“I think it’s important that we try to find out who this man was Auntie Jean was talking about in the letter,” Natalie said. “It sounds like he holds the answers to all of this.”

“What kind of trouble could she have been in that she didn’t want us to know?” Callie asked, still doubtful of the story’s verity. “That was so bad that she preferred for us to think she abandoned us?”

“Murder?” Deanna suggested.

Callie’s eyes flew to her sister. She wanted to say of course not, that murder was absolutely out of the question. But how did she know?