Home with My Sisters (26 page)

CHAPTER 28

They huddled together with flashlights and checked the barn first. Along the way they called out for Josh and Mr. Jingles. The barn door was closed tight and there were no lights from within.

“He wouldn't be hiding in a dark barn,” Faith said.

“Let's check Roger's cabin,” Hope said.
Where we found him and Mr. Jingles last time.
They headed for the cabin with Faith in the lead even though she had never been to Roger's cabin before. The moment the cabin became visible, they could see lights were on and smoke was coming out of the chimney.

“Someone's home,” Faith said, breaking into a jog. “Josh?”

“Mr. Jingles?” Hope called out, just in case the dog was inside and could hear her. By the time Hope reached the cabin, Faith was already pounding on the door. The curtains were closed tight so it was impossible to see whether or not Josh was inside.

“Roger?” Faith called. “Please open the door.”

Hope, Joy, and Harrison stood in a line behind Faith. Brittany latched on to Hope's hand. They shouldn't have included her in the search, Hope knew that now. What if something had happened to Josh? Brittany shouldn't be around to witness anything like that, not to mention it was freezing cold and pitch-black out here.

“If he's not here, we're dropping you off at the house,” Hope said to Brittany.

“I want to stay with you,” Brittany said. Just then the door opened. Roger stood in the doorway with Mr. Jingles at his side.

“Mr. Jingles,” Brittany said. Roger patted Mr. Jingles on the head and smiled at Brittany.

“Is Josh here?” Faith asked.

“I'm fine,” Josh called from inside.

“Oh, thank God,” Faith said. She looked at Roger. “We didn't know where he was.”

“He's fine,” Roger said.

“Josh, let's go,” Faith said. “I'm sorry he bothered you.”

“Mother!” Josh said. Roger still hadn't opened the door more than a crack and Josh still hadn't appeared.

“He not bother me,” Roger said. The sentence seemed labored as if it had taken a lot out of Roger to formulate it. She wondered if he would benefit from speech therapy. She'd never seen him go into town for groceries or a pint at a local tavern, let alone doctors' appointments. Had Yvette been enabling him all this time instead of really helping him?

“Roger said I can stay here,” Josh said.

“Get your coat and let's go,” Faith said. “We're all freezing out here.” Roger looked stricken, as if he knew the polite thing to do was to invite them all in, but Hope could see the terror in his eyes at the possibility. Even letting Josh and a dog into his cabin was probably a huge step for him.

“We're playing blackjack,” Josh said.

Blackjack. Their father loved that game. “Our father played blackjack,” Hope said. “Did you used to play with him?” Roger shook his head no. Hope frowned. Any time she mentioned anything about her father Roger would shake his head no. Did he remember her father? Hate him? Did he blame him for the accident? Her father paid with his life, you would think Roger would have some forgiveness for that. Then again she didn't know the struggles he had been through. She just wished he was more forthcoming about their father so she could delight in new stories about him, turn them into new memories.

“You can come back another time,” Faith said.

Josh finally appeared at the door. His hair was disheveled and he had dark circles under his eyes. Hope almost laughed. One evening in Roger's company and Josh was turning into a little hermit himself. Then again, those bags under his eyes were proof that it was him Hope often heard sneaking around at night. He'd definitely not been sleeping. Should she mention it to Faith? You had to be careful what you said around Faith. Any whiff that you were suggesting a better way of parenting would be met with swift and severe punishment. Telling another parent how to raise their children was tantamount to swiping a picnic basket out of the paws of a grizzly bear.

“I want to stay here instead,” Josh said. “Roger doesn't mind. Do you mind, Roger?”

Roger looked at Faith. Then at Hope. When his eyes connected with hers, she felt something. Something electric, and loving, and so, so familiar. Roger usually had sunglasses on. She was surprised that his eyes were blue. And not just any blue. They were her father's eyes. Not only were they his eyes, but they were giving her a look only one other person had ever given her.
Daddy
. It was like she was looking into her father's eyes. It couldn't be, though. He couldn't be. His name was Roger.

Then why did he shake his head no every time she said something about her father?

Why did Yvette treat him like a son?

Why hadn't they ever heard about Roger?

Why did she have forty-two missed calls that evening from her mother?
She seems freaked out by Roger
. Hadn't Josh said something like that? Of course they were in the accident together because they were the same man. He was her father. Their father. Roger wasn't his name. This was Thomas Garland. He was her father. Their father. She gasped.

“What?” Faith said, sounding annoyed. Roger disappeared from the doorway.

“Good night,” Hope heard him say from within. Seconds later Josh's coat was tossed his way. Hope would have asked about Mr. Jingles, but her entire body was nearly paralyzed. She didn't even remember the walk back to the log house. As the others were in the mudroom tugging off boots and coats, Hope grabbed Faith's hand and dragged her outside.

“What are you doing?” Faith said.

“It's Dad,” Hope said. A huge lump formed in her throat and tears stung her eyes.

“What about Dad?” Faith said.

“Roger,” Hope said, her voice coming out husky, almost like his. “He's our dad.”

Faith started to open her mouth, then closed it. Her hand fluttered to her mouth. “No, I would have known. I knew him better.”

“I was the one looking into his eyes. Blue. Just like Dad's.”

“Tons of people have blue eyes.”

“Think about it. Why does Yvette act like she loves him better than us? Why is she so insistent he keeps living here? Why would some man we'd never even heard of have been in the car with Dad if he was coming to see us? Why has he suddenly come to life since we've been here? Why isn't there a name on the tombstone? Why did he shake his head no every time I asked if he knew our father? And did you catch what he was playing with Josh?”

“Blackjack,” Faith said.

“And just now—the way he looked at me—I
recognized
him, Faith. It's him. He's our dad. I'm sure of it.”

“I can't believe this.”

“Think about it, Faith. Just close your eyes and think about it.” To Hope's surprise, Faith followed her instructions. Soon she gasped and her eyes flew open.

“Do you think I'm right?” Hope heard the desperation in her own voice. She so wanted to be right.

“I think you're right,” Faith said. “Oh my God.”

“I know, right?”

“How could that woman lie to us?”

“Who? Yvette?”

“I can't even call her by name. How could she do this to us?”

“First things, first. He's alive, Faith. Our dad is alive.” Hope started for the cabin. Faith pulled her back.

“Wait.”

Hope jerked free from Faith's grasp. “I have to see him right now.” She was close to tears. She wanted to tear across the lawn and throw herself into his arms.

“Just wait. We have to think about this.”

“What is there to think about?”

Faith started to pace in the snow. Not an easy task when it was so deep. “Maybe Dad had a brother. Maybe he's our uncle.”

“And they both like blackjack and Christmas, and love us, and they were both in the car accident?”

“Why not?”

“And we never met him? Never even heard that Dad had a brother?”

“We can call Mom.”

“She's never once mentioned a brother or our uncle. You know she would have. And look.” Hope showed her the missed calls on her phone.

“Oh my God,” Faith said. “She's on her way here.”

“I'd say so,” Hope said.

“Why did she call you? Why not me?”

“Seriously? You have to do this now?”

“You're right. He's alive. Daddy is alive.”

“I think we're too old to call him Daddy. But I'm doing the same thing in my head.”

“Yvette. She's evil. Do you think she planned on telling us at all?”

“I don't know. But I don't care about her right now. Our father is just over there.” Hope pointed to the cabin and once again headed for it, and again Faith pulled her back.

“What if he doesn't know?” Faith cried.

Hope stopped dead. She'd never considered this. “What?”

“He has brain damage. His own mother is calling him Roger instead of Thomas. What if he doesn't know who he really is?”

“Oh my God,” Hope said. “Oh my God.”

“He was standing right there when she showed us that phony grave. Do you think he would have allowed us to see that if he knew who he was?”

“Never,” Hope said. “Never.”

“I'm right,” Faith said. “I'm right.”

“You're right. You're so right. Our dad would never hide from us. And he never would have left us. That's the reason he's never come for us.”

“So he wasn't a spy,” Faith said softly.

Hope gave a bittersweet laugh. “But he didn't mean to leave us. You're right, Faithy. He has no idea who he is.”

Faith and Hope stopped talking, too stunned in the revelation. They stared at the cabin, then at all the Christmas decorations on the lawn. They were glittering, and moving, and in this moment seemed to be crying out just like them.

“He still likes Christmas,” Faith said softly, taking it all in. Hope could hear a sob forming in her voice. She felt a lump of her own.

“He still likes us,” Hope said.

“Do you think so?” Faith said, the hurt little girl clearly taking over her voice. “Do you really think so?”

Hope grabbed Faith's hand. “I know so.”

“Make me believe,” Faith said.

“Look at this lawn,” Hope said. “It's all around us. These decorations haven't come out since Rupert passed away. Even Yvette said he hasn't behaved like this. Talking, laughing, decorating for Christmas. He's reacting to us. On some level he knows.”

“And blackjack,” Faith said.

Hope laughed. “And blackjack.”

“That's why Yvette is going through so much trouble to make sure he's all right after she dies.” Excitement grew in Faith's voice. Hope refrained from mentioning that she'd already pointed this out.

Hope felt like jumping for joy. Well, not for her sister, but out of true joy. “It was right in front of our face this whole time. He's alive, Faithy. He's right here.”

“Don't cry.”

“I'm not.”

“You are.” Faith tried to wipe the tears from Hope's face with her big mittens. “Stop it.”

“Don't yell at me.” Hope swatted her hands away. The tears came harder.

Faith groaned. “If you start, then I'm going to start and I might not ever stop.”

“Can I at least have a Xanax?”

“Yes.”

“Yes?” Hope said. She'd been half-kidding.

“If ever a situation calls for a little Xanax, this is it,” Faith said.

“Hear hear.”

“We're just going to go back inside and talk about this. We're not going to do anything tonight.”

“I agree,” Hope said. “I totally agree.”

“Although we might have to have a word with Granny Dearest first,” Faith said. “Okay, okay. Tea. Xanax. Talk.”

“This is the best Christmas present I could have ever imagined,” Hope said.

Faith clasped Hope's hands. “Even if he doesn't know who we are?”

Hope squeezed back. “Even if.”

“What about Joy?”

“Oh God,” Hope said. “She's going to kill me for telling you without her.”

“It's okay. It's okay because we're not completely sure.”

“You're not sure?”

“Oh, I'm sure. I'm sure. But Joy doesn't have to know that. I mean, a little white lie in order to avoid a nuclear reaction from our little sis is quite acceptable, don't you agree?”

“Totally agree. Okay. Right. When we're sure. We'll tell her when we're sure.” Hope looked back in the direction of the cabin. “God, I just want to run up there right now and hug him.”

“He may be our father, but he doesn't look like he showers very much.”

“Just like Joy!” Hope said. “She'll be thrilled to know she inherited that from him.” She and Faith shared a little laugh.

“We may not want to mention she got that particular trait from him.”

“Do you really think he doesn't know who he is?” Hope said.

Faith stared at the cabin. “The only thing I know for sure is that I don't know anything.”

“I'd like to shake our grandmother awake right now. Because she certainly knows.” The more Hope thought about it the more furious she became. If that was their father and Yvette deliberately lied about it, well, there was no forgiveness, was there? Maybe their mother had been right all along. She was a cruel woman.

“Pajamas. Tea. Xanax,” Faith said. “We'll figure out a plan of attack.”