Deliver Her: A Novel (26 page)

CARL

Carl was tired of babysitting. His eyes burned from squinting at the two young women through the glass pane bordering Swiftriver’s front door.

He needed a meeting. The memory of last night lingered. He was unsure how long he’d gripped the glass Iris handed him, holding it next to his heart while they chatted, anticipating the sip that would numb the ache in his head, the restlessness in his gut. Numb everything.

His hand had tightened around the whiskey, the sleet thrumming steadily on the roof overhead. The storm had heightened everything: sound and light and emotion, changing the rules somehow.

And then Iris asked about Carolyn’s family.

Jimmy.
All it took was the thought of his friend, the fallen hero. Saying Jimbo’s name, the weakness and temptation passed, and Carl’s survival instincts kicked in—an unwavering need to feel the loss and guilt and pain of the day’s events rather than camouflage those emotions, no matter how wrenching. That was the only way to respect Jimmy’s memory, to express his gratitude for having served beside him, for having been invited into his life, however brief it was. The only way to honor the promises he’d made in church and to be there for Carolyn and Jamie in the fullest ways possible.

Carl had sniffed the drink one more time, then set his untouched glass next to Cam’s bottle and slid it toward the shopkeeper. “On second thought, Iris, I’ll pass.”

Skimming his head with his hand, he’d proceeded to tell Iris everything he could remember about the Murphys: their love match at the police station, their abbreviated but joy-filled marriage, the child that remained.

Not too much later, he said good-night, then took his post upstairs, wrapped in an afghan Iris gave him.

And now, in the stark sunlight of the brilliant New Hampshire morning, another family demanded his attention. Leaving Mia to tend to Alex, Carl took a seat at Swiftriver’s counter, waiting for the Carmodys to retrieve their daughter.

ALEX

Shana answered on the first ring. “Girl! I thought it might be you! I’ve been freaking out here.” After spending the night at Alex’s, she was having breakfast with Jack. Alex didn’t mention that her brother had already filled her in.

“Isn’t it weird to be there without me?” Murmuring into Mia’s phone, Alex moved away from the porch as her parents’ voices floated across the parking lot.

“Not really. Jack’s so sweet. I might go to his baseball game.”

“He’ll be glad somebody else is there to watch besides Aunt Melissa.”

“Al, you OK? Your mom told me what happened.”

“I’m good.” She crouched down, watching her parents climb Swiftriver’s steps. There wasn’t much time. There was something she needed to make sure of before she could face her mother and father.

“Another accident, though. You must have been all, like, déjà vu. Was there tons of blood?”

“It was dark, Shana. It was hard to see.” She couldn’t handle going over the gruesome details. “Listen, I’ve got to go in a sec, but by any chance did you get to the cemetery yesterday?”

“No. I was going to, but then I had this thing, and then it started raining . . .”

You said she was your friend, too.
“Listen. I’m pretty sure my parents will put me on lockdown for a while after all this. Could you try to get out there and, like, keep Cass company?”

“Sure, Al. Whenever I can.”

“OK, cool.” She took a deep breath. “So. What’s up with Evan?”

“Nothing. Good move with that text, by the way. He said he’s cool with you. You should have seen him yesterday. All over Larke at school, disgusting PDAs in the hall.”

“Really.” Another person Mia had been right about.

“Listen, Al.” Shana’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I had the
best
talk with your mom in your room last night. She’s so cool—she made me feel really good about everything. Like this gigantic weight lifted off my chest. Did she tell you about our conversation?”

“Nope. Haven’t seen her yet.” Jealous at the idea of Shana and her mom all cozy in
her
room, Alex remembered her mother’s unread letter at the bottom of her bag and felt better. She lowered herself onto a log that edged some shrubbery. “Actually, Shana, how about
you
tell me what you guys talked about?”

MEG

Meg raced into Swiftriver a few steps ahead of Jacob and scanned the store, recognizing the tall man with the white Vandyke striding toward her. “Carl. Where is she?”

“She’s here. Don’t worry.”

Meg’s knees weakened, powerless against a fresh wave of panic. The door jangled, and Jacob joined them. Carl spoke before Meg could even introduce the two men.

“Mr. and Mrs. Carmody, let me just say—” he began.

“Save the apologies, Alden,” Jacob said, glancing around the store. “Where’s my daughter?”

A young woman with a mass of black curls approached them and smiled. “You must be Alex’s parents. I’m Mia.”

The artist who helped Alex, Meg realized. “Thank you for everything you did for our daughter,” she said.

“It was nothing. She’s great,” Mia said. “She’s right outside. I’ll go get her.”

Carl launched into another apology. “Believe me, if I had a chance to do things differently, to take a different route, I would.”

Jacob stepped closer to the transporter. “I had no idea about this scheme of yours, you know that? She set up this whole thing behind my back.”

Carl sighed. “That’s between you and your wife. I’m just so sorry about what happened.”

“I can explain, Carl. I—” Meg went silent as Swiftriver’s door swung open again, and the morning sunlight silhouetted her daughter in the doorway.

“Alex,” Meg whispered, woozy with relief. She stood still, steeling herself for the inevitable cold shoulder she rightly deserved.
Let her come to you in her own good time.

She couldn’t have been more stunned when Alex bolted across the store and locked her in a hug so constricting it almost knocked the breath from her. Meg sank into the embrace, drinking in Alex’s perfume of cigarettes and fresh mountain air, cupping her daughter’s head as she had when she was a baby, both of them weeping.

“How are you?” Meg finally murmured into Alex’s hair.

“I’m fine now. I’m good.” Alex tightened her grip around Meg’s waist.

“Alex, I am so, so sorry. I never should have . . .”

“Mom, stop. It’s OK.”

“It’s not, Al. You don’t know . . .”

Alex pulled back and gazed at Meg, her bare face glistening. “Yes, I do, Mom. I
know
what I need to know. I’m just so fucking happy to see you.” Her hand flew to her mouth. “Sorry.”

“It’s OK. I’m fucking happy to see you, too.” Meg couldn’t believe she was laughing.
And
crying.
And
that her daughter was hugging her.
Hugging
her. She pressed Alex away to drink in the sight of her. Even with the sterling lip ring, Alex looked years younger than the snarling teen she’d woken yesterday, her face scrubbed of makeup, Cass’s silky purple scarf having somehow resurfaced and now wound around her daughter’s head, giving Alex the colorful air of a gypsy.

“What about me?” Jacob had been standing to the side, watching them.

“Daddy.” Alex flung herself onto him, then pulled her face away, touching her cheek. “You’re all bristly. What’s up with that?”

“Sorry. I’ve been in the car forever.” Jacob rubbed his salt-and-pepper stubble. “You scared the crap out of us, you know?” he asked, his voice cracking.

“I’m sorry. I can’t believe you both came up here. Together.” Her eyes were questioning.

“We love you, Al. We had to make sure you were all right.”

Meg relaxed, grateful Jacob was attempting a united front for Alex’s benefit.

“I’m good.” Alex pressed her face into Jacob’s shoulder. “Daddy, I was so scared. I just had to get away from that car . . . I couldn’t deal with it again if someone . . .”

She went quiet. Turning from him, she reached out to a table of knickknacks, picking up a silver sugar bowl and twirling it in her hands.

“What was that girl thinking, taking you out in that storm?” Jacob asked.

“Mia tried to help me, Dad. She took me someplace safe.”

“A homeless shelter, I heard. Probably full of drug addicts.”

Meg stared. Had Jacob actually said
drug addict
?

“Oh, my God, Dad. Forget it. You don’t even know what you’re talking about. Anyway,
I
was the one who left Hope Haven.”

Jacob took a step toward Alex. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Al, I remember you, Cass and me watching that Phibs’ unveiling on TV and all. But what were you planning to do in Happy Corner once you got there?”

Alex took the tissue Meg offered and blew her nose. “It doesn’t matter now.”

“I guess not,” he said, studying Alex’s face a moment. “What matters is you’re safe. Now let’s get you home.” He looked around. “You have a suitcase or anything?”

Carl stepped up and handed Jacob the duffel Meg had packed for Alex barely two nights ago. “The tow truck operator dropped it off this morning,” he said.

Alex intercepted her bag. “Hold on. I need to tell you guys something.” She paused. “I’ve made a decision. An adult decision that I need to share with you. Both of you.” Alex glanced over her shoulder at Meg. “Don’t freak out, Mom. It’s all good.”

Warily, Meg moved closer to her daughter.

“I’ve decided to stay,” Alex said, her eyes shining.

“Stay here?” Jacob said. “What the . . .” He wheeled and jabbed a finger toward Mia, who had been listening quietly next to Carl. “Did
you
talk her into this?”

Mia recoiled. “Me? I have no idea what she’s talking about.”

“Dad, chill out. I’m not staying with Mia. I want to go to The Birches.”

Silence filled the room.

“Oh, Alex.” Meg covered her mouth.

“That’s ridiculous,” Jacob said. “After everything you’ve been through, you just need some family time. We’ll go home, grab some sleep, head out to Playland. Beat the lines for the Dragon Coaster.”

“It’s not even open yet. Anyway, I can’t, Dad.”

Jacob massaged his jaw. “OK, then. We’ll go bowling. I took Jack not too long ago. Disco ball, retro music. When you bowl, the ball goes right under the stage.” He reached for a handle of her bag.

“Sounds cool. But no.” Alex widened her stance. “No Dragon Coaster. No bowling. Believe me, I’d love to just go home and forget everything that’s happened. But if I do that, nothing will change. And I
want
things to change.” She sniffed. “I know I . . . seriously messed up.” She turned to Meg. “I totally hated you and Dad yesterday morning, but I kinda get why you did it.”

“Alex, I didn’t—” Jacob started.

“Jacob, please. Let her talk.” Meg preferred to confess her role to Alex during a less confrontational moment.

“So I made up my mind. I’m doing this. I’m staying.” She tugged lightly on the duffel. “Let go of my bag, Dad.”

Jacob made no move to loosen his grip.

“Mom, please,” Alex pleaded over her shoulder. “Tell him. You know.” Leaving one hand on the duffel, she reached into her satchel with the other, retrieving a piece of paper and waving it at Meg. “I
know
you do.”

Meg started at the sight of her letter, the message she never expected Alex to read.

“What’s that?” Jacob’s face was white with fatigue. Despite his transgressions, Meg truly regretted all she’d put him through: the deception, the stressful waits for information, the tension and anger building up mile by mile on the ride up. And now a letter he knew nothing about.

Of course, Jacob wanted to take his little girl home. It was only natural. But he had to understand there were no winners here—only a child who sorely needed their support.

“Tell him, Mom. Tell him what you wrote.”

Meg took the letter from Alex. “I . . . I just told her how much we both loved her.”

“Read it, Mom.” Alex’s voice was near breaking.

“OK, honey. If you really want me to.” Head down, Meg cleared her throat a couple of times before she began reading, at a level meant only for Alex and Jacob.

“Dear Alex,

I love you. If you remember nothing else from this letter, please know that.

You probably hate me right now. I can just hear you: ‘Mom, you’re psycho.’

Jacob’s chortle momentarily rattled Meg, but she forced herself to continue.

Maybe I am. But if that’s what it takes to protect you, to help you, I’ll fly my psycho flag proudly.

I know the last year has been horrible on many levels. We have all made mistakes.

The words blurred as Meg’s eyes filled with tears.

We are human; we fuck up sometimes. (Yes, that’s your mother dropping an F-bomb.) Know that no matter what happens with Dad and me, we’ll always be here for you.

Meg paused, acknowledging how much more loaded that statement had become since she had scrawled it two nights before.

I’m praying you make the most of the next few months. (Don’t freak out! They will go fast, I promise.)

She looked up and smiled at Alex.

The choice is yours to accept this help. Not for anybody else, but for you.

For now, please take care. Because you truly are my precious cargo.

Love, Mom xo”

Allowing the letter to fall to her side, Meg clasped Alex’s hand. “Listen to her, Jacob. This is excruciating for me, too. But please hear what she’s saying.”

Alex stared at their intertwined fingers, then laid her head on Meg’s shoulder, triggering more tears on Meg’s part. “Please, Daddy.”

“Really, Meg? After yesterday, not knowing if we’d see her again, you’re on board with this?” He crossed his arms, frowning. “Well, of course, you
would
be, since it’s what you wanted from the beginning.”

“You’re right. I did, until yesterday. But I came here today ready to bring Alex home. Truly,” Meg said.

Jacob cocked his head. “Alex, do you know what you’re in for? You won’t see your friends. You’ll hardly see us.”

“The Birches really isn’t that regimented,” Meg began.

Alex raised their clasped hands. “God, Dad, it’s not like we do the family-bonding thing that much anyway. Mom and I fight all the time. Maybe the distance will be good for
all
of us.”

“There’s been too much distance already, Alex. I want to fix that.”

“Dad, do you hear yourself? I’m asking for help, and you’re trying to talk me out of it. Isn’t that, like, messed-up parenting?”

“It’s just . . . your mother sprung this whole thing on me,” Jacob said. “I’m still trying to get my head around it.”

“Tell me about it.” A smile played at Alex’s lips. Meg realized Alex suspected her all along. “I’m the one he kidnapped.” She angled her head toward Carl, who, along with the shopkeepers, watched their family from a discreet distance.

Finally, Jacob let go of the duffel in surrender, the bag landing with a soft thud at Alex’s feet. “If that’s what you really want, Al . . .”

“It is. I swear. Will you guys take me?”

“Of course,” Meg said. Wasn’t that the ideal scenario Carl described the day he toured Alex’s room?

Releasing Meg’s hand, Alex made her way to the transporter. On the way, Mia fist-bumped her.

Observing the interaction, Meg wondered if the two girls would stay in touch or if the past twelve hours would remain some bizarre footnote in both their lives.

“Sorry I was so much trouble,” Alex mumbled, standing in front of Carl.

“I’m sorry, too, Alex,” Carl said. “If I could take it all back, I’d—”

“It wasn’t your fault. It was an accident. You heard me say that to the troopers this morning. I’ll tell them, too, in case they’re mad at you.” She jerked her thumb at Meg and Jacob.

“Your parents have every right to be upset.”

“Not about that. Anyway, I’m gonna go to that place you were taking me to.” She looked back at her parents. “Even though I’ll probably hate every second. And if they tell me I can’t smoke or wear my lip ring, I’ll have to go on a hunger strike or something.”

Meg hid a smile.
The Alex I know and love.

“I hope it doesn’t come to that,” Carl said.

“And I almost forgot. I have something for you.” Alex opened her palm, revealing a small plastic frog on a string.

“Rainmaker,” Jacob murmured.

“You said it brought you luck, so I thought . . . Anyway, I’m sorry,” Alex said. “I shouldn’t have taken it.”

“It’s OK. You can keep it. It’s done its job. You can pass it along one day.”

“Cool. Like karma.” The frog went into Alex’s pocket. “I hope Mom Hair . . . I mean Officer Murphy . . . gets better soon.”

“Me, too.” Carl held out his hand. “I wish you luck, Alex Carmody. And I hope you get to Happy Corner one day. Just remember what I said yesterday.”

She frowned. “Which part? You said a bunch of stuff.”

Carl chuckled. “I did, didn’t I? At lunch. The concerts? The Phibs’ mantra?”

It took a few seconds before Alex’s face flooded with understanding. “
Riiiight.
The whole ‘One show at a time’ thing.”

One show at a time.
Not a bad motto for life,
Meg thought, observing her daughter’s solemn nod. Meg had never embraced energies or chakras or other New Age-isms, but perhaps there had been some cosmic reason Meg had stumbled upon Begin Again’s services. She never should have arranged the transport behind Alex’s and Jacob’s backs, but watching their exchange now, she understood that for all those hours Alex spent in the backseat of Carl Alden’s car, and even for all the hours she had been missing, her daughter had been in very capable and very wise hands.

Of course, Meg didn’t dare say that to Jacob. Instead, she leaned over to him now and whispered. “Figures. Phibs fan.”

“I know. They’re all crazy.”

Alex laughed at something Carl said. “Maybe I’ll see you at a show sometime.”

“You never know. Look for the green balloons.”

“What’s he talking about?” Meg whispered.

“It’s the spot where recovering addicts meet up.”

Before Meg could absorb Carl’s matter-of-fact admission, Jacob stepped up to the transporter.