Deliver Her: A Novel (23 page)

REUNION

ALEX

Fists balled, Alex watched the bus to Colebrook ease back onto the highway without her, driving away with her dream. She blew out her lower lip in frustration. Was this her destiny, to be forever in this man’s backseat, the ritual click of child locks her soundtrack? There had been a moment when she thought she might finally be free of Camo Man, when the troopers refused to let him take her. But then he started waving that paper he had, and all the adults got on the phone. The next thing Alex knew, she was back in the car with him. Evidently her parents were cool (
cool!
) with Camo Man taking her overnight.

Worse, now that her captor was a passenger, he was free to twist around and interrogate Alex for the entire ride. Right now, she didn’t feel like talking to anybody—not to him, to her parents and definitely not to two-faced Mia, her backseat companion for this leg of her joyride. She shifted to face the window.

“I was so worried, Alex,” Mia said. “Why did you leave? I wanted to help.”

Help me right into a homeless shelter,
Alex thought to herself. She didn’t answer.

At the next traffic light, they rounded a jug handle and dropped back onto Route 3 South, every mile marker putting more distance between Alex and Happy Corner. She squeezed her eyes tight against the disappointment, wishing she’d just stayed in Camo Man’s backseat after the accident and perished from hypothermia.

I’m so sorry, Cass.
I tried. I really tried.
She’d been
that
close. Mia, the guardian angel Cass placed in her path, turned out to have a set of horns buried in her black curls. To be fair, Cass was fairly new at navigating from beyond; in her place, Alex might also have been fooled. But to have bared her soul to Mia in the studio only to have the girl turn on her? It cut Alex deeply.

“You’re fucked up, Mia. You know that?” she said, breaking her silence. “Did you get some sick thrill from tricking me?” Alex fought an urge to lean over and shove Mia.

Mia’s eyes rounded. “I wasn’t trying to trick you. I just thought Ellen would be a good person to talk to about your plan.”

“You sold me out.” Alex withdrew to her side of the car. “I told you how badly I needed to go. You’re a liar.”

“
I’m
a liar? How about you, Miss I Got Lost in the Woods Hiking?”

Alex stared out the window.

“How could you not tell me about the accident? About those people trapped in the car?”

Alex twirled her braid double time. “I told the guys in the truck. They called in the accident. They were sending help. I heard them.”

“That
is
true, Mia,” Camo Man said.

“Why are you defending her? She left you there. That was
so
not cool.”

“I don’t need anyone to defend me,” Alex said. “I know what I did.”

“Yeah, and so do a million other people. Pretty much the entire state of New Hampshire was looking for you, and you
forgot
to tell me? No wonder your parents hired him.” Mia jerked her thumb toward the front seat.

“That’s
so
not fair. My mom has this crazy idea I’m some kind of pillhead, but I’m not.” She faced Mia. “And what about you? You’re not so innocent. Your precious studio reeked this afternoon. What was it? Sweet Trainwreck? Purple Haze?” Alex reveled in the death look Mia’s mother shot her over the seat.

“You know what? I’m sorry I ever let you in.” Mia crossed her arms.

“Mia, that’s enough. She’s just a child,” Iris said.

Child?
Alex’s skin prickled at the word. Would a
child
have made it this far by herself today, in these conditions?

“Well, somebody should tell ‘the child’ what happened, Mom.” Mia pulled herself toward Carl’s headrest. “Go ahead, Mr. Alden. Tell her about your partner.”

He stared straight ahead. “Now’s not the time.”

Alex sat up. “The time for what? Tell me.”

“That woman in the car with you had to have surgery,” Mia said, facing her. “She could have died, Alex. Maybe if you’d done something besides tying a ribbon around a tree like some lame seventies song, she’d be in better shape.”

“I
did
do something. I told those guys the second I got in the truck. They swore—”

“It’s all right, Alex,” Camo Man said. He cleared his throat.

Was he going to
cry
? Of course, he must have had his own horrible moment of seeing his partner injured, just as Alex had. “How is she?”

“She’s resting and getting her strength back after the surgery,” he continued. “Her mother and little girl will be up tomorrow.”

Jamie.
Alex’s heart tightened at the recollection of the fatherless little girl from Murphy’s wallet, with her bright blue glasses, hair falling over the puppy in her lap. What if the absolute worst happened and Mom Haircut
did
die? Jamie was practically a baby, only a little older than Jack. Alex scrunched her eyes against the image of her brother beside an imagined hospital bed, their mom pale and bandaged and wrapped in a tangle of tubes, lines on the monitor beside her going horizontal. Alex would never,
ever
want Jack to go through that.

Was
this her fault? Could she have done more? She couldn’t bear the weight of another horrendous tragedy. Alex rewound the scene, freeze-framing the moose’s drunken lurch, the dead drop of Mom Haircut’s arm onto her lap. From nowhere, Alex heard herself sob. “I didn’t want to leave them there. You don’t know what it was like.”

“I’m sure it was terrifying,” said Camo Man, reaching over the seat to pat her arm. Alex noticed a nasty, swollen bruise over his eye.

“I thought I was going to die. How could this be happening again?” The images whirled and spun, like she’d applied the dream feature in iMovie. Only now it wasn’t Mom Haircut’s hand in her lap but Cass’s finger in her face, not Camo Man slumped over the wheel but Logan, Shana whimpering beside him. Another sob escaped.

“What does she mean, ‘again’?” Mia’s voice sounded far away. It was joined by the even more distant sound of a phone ringing. It had to be her parents again. She couldn’t talk then. Or now.

“Alex, it’s your family.”

“I told you. I can’t. Tell my mom I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your mom, Alex.” Camo Man held the phone over the seat. “It’s your brother. Jack wants to talk to you.”

MEG

With the possible exceptions of her children’s wondrous births, nothing eclipsed the joy that had filled Meg when Jacob turned to her, eyes brimming, to say Alex was safe. At once, she was whole again. Somehow she’d managed to ease his truck into the shoulder and take her phone from him, its surface slick with his tears, making Carl say the words again.

Given Alex’s reticence, it had been a stroke of brilliance on Melissa’s part to suggest Jack call his sister, Meg thought now, soaping her face with the doll-size bar of motel soap. The siblings’ conversation had been sweet, Melissa told her right after. (Of course, her sister would find a way to listen in.) Alex sounded exhausted but OK, given all she’d been through. She had not asked for her parents.

“Give her time,” Melissa advised. “She loves you. You guys will get through this.”

Shana had begged to talk to Alex after Jack, Melissa said. Thinking it odd Shana stuck around after confessing and then making such a scene, Meg was grateful her sister hadn’t allowed it. In her soul-baring mood, Shana might have unloaded more than Alex could handle right now. There’d be time for confessions later—many sorts of confessions, Meg realized, wiping her face with a threadbare face towel.

They’d checked into the Washington Pines Motel way past midnight, Carl having ceded his reservation to them. The place was less a motel than a cluster of aging log cabins strung around a tiny fenced-in swimming pool. From the configuration of rigs edging the parking lot, Washington Pines seemed to be a favorite of truckers—and transporters, apparently.

She had wrestled with the decision to let Alex stay with Carl overnight. What must Alex have thought of that—their further abandoning her—after all she’d been through? Meg wondered as she headed into the bedroom, where an ancient heater rasped its tepid blend of nicotine and mildew. This would be one more thing to apologize for. They would have reached Alex in another hour or so of driving. But one look at Jacob in the visor light convinced her. She didn’t want Alex to see her father like this, with his puffy, reddened eyes and disheveled hair. She had said as much to Jacob, which was what finally wore him down.

Even now, combing his hair in the dresser mirror, Jacob swore he was fine; Meg thought his hands trembled. Maybe she was imagining it. Would it be like this from now on—inspecting his every gesture, parsing every word out of his mouth for slurring? How many times had he walked into their home under the influence without her knowing? At least by stopping here, she could watch him, make sure he sobered up overnight.

Except that now he was threatening to go to Swiftriver tonight without her.

“I want to see her as much as you do,” Meg said. “But it’s better this way. You promised.”

When Carl had called back with Alex safely in the car, Meg had begged to speak to her. Carl had rather awkwardly told her that Alex didn’t feel like talking.

Jacob had grabbed Meg’s cell. “Please. Tell her we just need to hear her voice.”

A moment later, with Jacob holding the phone between them, Meg wept again at the sound of Alex’s exhausted voice.

“Daddy? It’s me.”

“Hello, me.” Jacob’s signature response to the kids when they called. It usually made them smile, no matter how old they were. Alex didn’t sound like she was smiling. “How are you, kiddo?”

“Tired.
Really
tired.”

“I bet. Long day.”

“Yeah.” A long, raggedy sigh. “I just want to sleep.”

“Then sleep. We’re here. You know we love you, right?”

“Yup.” Tangled in her yawn, it came out more like
yawp
.

“Call if you need us, Al. See you tomorrow.”

Meeting Jacob’s gaze now in the motel mirror, Meg pointed her hairbrush at him. “You promised,” she said again.

“I didn’t
promise
anything.” Jacob plopped onto the twin bed by the window, sending the mattress skidding in a crackle of plastic. “You’re just trying to punish me.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it? Isn’t this whole thing, sending Alex away, about sticking it to me? Making me pay for my sins, the separation? You couldn’t stand the fact I finally did something for myself after all these years.”

“Sorry ‘all these years’ were such a sacrifice for you. That we were such a burden. All that time, I thought we were building a family.”

“We were. We
are
. We’ll still be a family.”

“You’re so full of yourself, Jacob. Today wasn’t about you. I wasn’t even thinking—”

“Obviously.”

“I was taking care of our daughter. But don’t worry. Once we get home, you can go back to your trees, and your band, and your . . .”

“My what? I’ve told you a million times. There’s no one else.”

“I was going to say ‘your pills.’”

Jacob’s head dropped. Meg knew it was a vile, vindictive thing to say, but she couldn’t help herself. She leaned against the imitation oak dresser. “I told you back in the car. Alex has enough going on without seeing you in this state.”

“That’s it.” Jacob slapped his knees and stood. “Give me the keys, Meg. I’m going.”

Meg crossed her arms, keys digging into her armpit. “If you go, I’ll tell Alex everything.”

“You just said how overloaded she is. I promised I’d tell her when I’m ready.”

“Well, you won’t have to.”

He squinted, gauging her intentions. “How do you think Alex will feel about you wrongly accusing her? That you sent her up here based on a lie?”

“
Your
lie,” Meg flashed.

Jacob continued to eye her. Whether it was Meg’s threat or his own conscience that swayed him, she sensed him wavering. He sat back down and yanked off a muddy boot, letting it drop to the floor with a thud. “You win. Happy?” Fully dressed, he slid under the covers and turned away from her.

Meg watched him for a while from an Adirondack chair, waiting for the inevitable twitch signaling he was on the verge of sleep. When they were together, she couldn’t fall asleep until she felt Jacob’s half start beside her. Many times over the last few months Meg had wondered if they would ever sleep in the same room again. In her wildest dreams, she never would have imagined a circa-1970s log cabin with faux fireplace, frayed rugs and wispy-thin towels as the setting for their reunion.

“You don’t have to guard me,” Jacob called in the dark. “Get some sleep.”

She knew she wouldn’t sleep, determined as she was to keep an eye on Jacob and consumed with her own guilt. Meg realized she’d given scant thought to how she would justify the transport to Alex, how she would explain that she really
had
believed in The Birches’ potential. Instead of the empowering step forward Meg had envisioned, Alex’s first exposure to the White Mountains had been nothing short of a nightmare.

Meg had absolutely no idea where they would go from here.

It was chilly in the chair. Still in her scrubs, Meg slipped under the threadbare quilt on her bed. Rolling onto her back, she couldn’t banish the nagging worry that, despite Carl’s presence, Alex might try to flee again. Or worse. The Alex she’d sent off to New Hampshire this morning wasn’t one to follow rules. What Shana told her in Alex’s room tonight had helped her to understand why. Meg turned toward the other bed.

“Jacob, what if she
does
try to hurt herself?” she whispered.

“She won’t. She was talking about Happy Corner. Let it go.”

“I’m trying. It’s hard.” She couldn’t let those messages go, any more than she could erase the events of the past year that had transformed their family or transport them back in time to a happier, safer place. This time last year, she was buying congratulatory bouquets for the
Annie
cast. Six months later, she was choosing a floral arrangement for Cass’s service. “Jacob?”

His annoyed sigh rose in the dark. “Yeah?”

“Remember when she was born?”

A beat. “’Course. One of the best days of my life.”

“Mine, too.”

A crinkle of plastic signaled Jacob’s shifting. “For a nurse, you sure gave me a hard time about going to the hospital.”

“I just wanted to watch the end of the show.”

“You were scared. Admit it.”

The night Alex was born, with contractions easily fifteen minutes apart and her hospital bag parked by the front door, Meg sat on the couch, glued to
Jeopardy!,
Jacob beside her holding her hand. “Shouldn’t we go now?” he asked.

“I’m good, honey. I know when to go.”

When Meg bent over double for the entire commercial leading into Double Jeopardy, he had jumped up. “That’s it. Let’s go, Mommy.” Jacob clicked off the television and pulled her gently to her feet.

Many hours later, still damp from the exertion of the birth and cradling their as-yet-unnamed daughter, Meg giggled suddenly. “I wonder who won.”

“Won what?” Jacob was staring at their baby, already in love.

Meg sniffed the baby’s head. “You know. Double Jeopardy.”

“I think we should focus on naming our child.”

“What do you think of Alexandra?” Meg snuggled the swaddled newborn. “We can call her Alex.”

“For Alex
Trebek
?” Jacob joked.

“Of course not. Alexandra means ‘defender of mankind.’”

“That’s a lot to live up to.”

“She will,” Meg said, handing Alex to her father. “She’s ours.”

All at once, Meg shivered, despite the motel room heater’s valiant cough. How much mankind had Alex defended herself against today, she wondered. “Jacob?”

More plasticky rustling. “What now?” His voice was coarse with fatigue.

“You’re right. I
was
scared.”

He was silent so long she assumed he had fallen asleep. She might as well try to do the same, she decided, folding the flat pillow in two when he said her name.

“What?” she asked, propping herself on her elbow.

“Remember back in the car, when you found the pills . . . ?”

“Yeah.” She sat up, pillow in her lap. “What about it?”

“I lied to you, Meg.”