Light from Her Mirror (Mirrors Don't Lie Book 3) (23 page)

Kenzie’s
face paled. Makenna stared at the woman in confusion, thinking she had not
heard correctly. “I-I’m sorry,” she stammered. “What did you say?”

“It’s
true. I am your grandmother. Your mother’s mother.”

The
twins stared first at her, then at one another. Makenna was the first to voice
their thoughts. “I’m sorry, but why should we believe you? Do you have any
proof?”

“Well,
let’s see. Your name is Tamara Leigh. And you, my dear, are Tressa Anne. Your
middle names come from me, by the way. My given name is Leigh Anne. And you
were born on January eighteenth at five-forty-nine in the afternoon.”

“Any-anyone
could know those details,” Kenzie said. Never mind that she and Makenna had
only known them for a few weeks.

“Your
mother’s name was Margaret Anne, but we called her Maggie. She had big green
eyes. Like mine.” She softened her voice as she added, “And yours.”

“Tell
us more.” In spite of herself, Makenna sounded like a young child, begging for
one more bedtime story.

“Well,
let’s see… When she was a little girl, she wanted to be a ballerina. It was all
she could talk about. So, naturally, I signed her up for dance lessons.” The
polished woman laughed softly, caught up in an old memory. “Unfortunately, your
mother had no sense of balance. She could not manage a pirouette. She couldn’t
even do a proper en pointe.”

“So…
what happened?” Silly, but the nearly forty-year-old story left Makenna
breathless as she hung on every word.

“She
sprained her ankle. But she had a darling nurse, and soon she became your
mother’s new idol. For the next several months, all her brothers had to go
around with bandages and splints and make-believe casts. It was quite a sight!”
The older woman - their grandmother - clasped her hands together in delight as
she retold the memory.

“I-I
imagine most little girls want to be ballerinas and nurses,” Kenzie said
stubbornly.

“I
imagine you are right, Tressa. Or shall I say Kenzie. And yes, I know you go by
the name Kenzie Reese now. I know you are a brilliant photographer and have
made quite a name for yourself as a photojournalist. And you, Tamara, are now
Makenna Reagan, with a budding career of your own. Congratulations on your new
assignment with
Now Magazine
. It’s so nice that both you girls will be
working there.”

“How-How
do you know -?”

“What
kind of grandmother would I be if I didn’t keep up with my granddaughters? My
very special
twin
granddaughters?”

“The
kind that doesn’t meet them until they’re twenty-six years old?” Kenzie
suggested with a wry voice. She saw the older woman’s smile fall from her face,
yet still she pushed. “The kind that disowns her daughter when she marries the
love of her life? Doesn’t that about cover it, Kenna?”

“Kenzie!”
her sister chided, mortified by her rudeness.

“No,
no, she’s absolutely right. I allowed my husband to turn our daughter away, to
force her to choose between her family and her husband. I should have stood up
to him. I should have made him listen. Instead, I had to hide my relationship
with my own daughter. And for that, I am eternally sorry.”

“Then…
you didn’t disown our mother?”

“No,
Makenna, I didn’t disown my only daughter. I couldn’t. And I did not disown you
two girls, either. For three wonderful years, I was a part of your lives.”

Kenzie
stood up and paced the room. “How do we know you’re really our grandmother? Why
should we believe you?”

“If
you had looked closely around the cabin, you would have seen evidence. There
was a framed sampler on the living room wall I made when I was very young. If
you had looked closely, you would have seen my initials stitched into the lower
right hand corner, LAH for Leigh Anne Hannah. You would have found a platter in
the china cabinet. It belonged to my mother, Anne Hannah. It was from a set of
dishes she received as a wedding present, and she gave it to Maggie when she
married.”

Kenzie
remained stubborn. “Easy to say now, since we can’t confirm any of your
claims.” The woman could have returned to the cabin, seen the platter, and used
it in her story to make it sound believable; which, Kenzie had to admit, it
did.

The
woman turned her red Zagliani handbag on its side and ran a slim hand into its
interior. She pulled a photograph from within and held it out for inspection.
“This was taken our last Christmas together. A generational picture, your
mother called it.”

Kenzie’s
hand was unsteady as she took the picture and pulled it close for scrutiny. Two
small faces peered back at her, each balanced on the lap of the woman holding
her. One of those women she now recognized as their mother. The other she
recognized as the woman sitting on their sofa. There was no denying the family
resemblance between all four faces.

And
they all had green eyes.

Kenzie
silently passed the picture to her sister. Tears were already streaming down
Makenna’s face. Kenzie stubbornly brushed her own aside as she sank back into
her chair.

One
question seemed paramount above all others. “Why did our grandfather disown our
mother?”

A
delicate sigh slipped from the lips of their guest: their grandmother, so it
seemed. “Like most fathers, he never believed your father was good enough for
his little girl. And there were… extenuating circumstances. Your father was
working for people who were taking advantage of him. Your grandfather tried to
intervene, but your father saw it as interfering. There was a terrible argument
and your mother…” the older woman paused, choosing her words carefully. “Your
mother sided with her husband. She believed things about your grandfather that
were not true. My husband - your grandfather- is a prideful man. He could not
accept that his daughter believed the worst of him. Harsh words were spoken,
ultimatums given. And words can never be unspoken.”

Kenzie
kept her eyes averted as she tried to absorb the fantastic story. She did not
need to see her grandmother’s face to know she was crying; she could hear the
tears in her voice. She could feel them in her own heart.

She
sensed movement from the couch as their grandmother produced another picture
from within the bowels of her leather bag. Kenzie took the photo hesitantly,
noting more faces in this offering. It was of their parents on their wedding
day, edged on either side by an older couple. Judging from the family
resemblance, Kenzie assumed these were their two sets of grandparents; the mere
concept boggled her mind. She had never seen the couple standing beside her
father, but the two people beside her mother were familiar. The woman was a
younger version of the person crying quietly on her couch. And the man was…

Kenzie’s
hand trembled as she slowly looked up, holding the photograph in her unsteady
fingers. Her voice quivered as she asked haltingly, “Why-Why do you have a
picture of - of Harry Lawrence?”

“Why,
he’s your grandfather.”

“I-I
don’t believe you.”

Leigh
Anne Lawrence smiled. “It’s true, Kenzie. Harry Lawrence is my husband,
Maggie’s father, and your grandfather.”

As
Kenzie shook her head in stunned denial, Makenna murmured, “That explains the
cars.” Drawing in an unsteady breath, she realized, “That explains a lot of
things, actually.”

“It
doesn’t explain why you are just now seeking us out.” Her voice held none of
Makenna’s soft awe; hers was cold and flat. “It doesn’t explain why you
abandoned us for all these years. And it doesn’t explain what happened to our
mother!” Her words took on a shrill tone as she hurled the last words.

“Until
recently, I had no idea where you girls were. You have to believe that.” Leigh
Anne stood from the couch with a lithe, graceful movement. With her body
straight and erect, she moved restlessly toward the window. She lifted the
curtain aside with a jeweled hand and peered outside with unseeing eyes. “Your
parents left unexpectedly. I went to the cabin, looking for them, but it was as
if they simply walked away. There was a drink on the table, wet clothes in the
washer, the television was still on. They simply… left.” She hitched a slender
shoulder, her voice sad. “I looked for them. For you. I searched for years. You
had simply vanished into thin air.”

Her
story was consistent with facts they knew to be true.

“So
how did you find us?” Makenna asked.

“We
never stopped looking for you. Your grandfather spared no expense in the
search. And he put his oldest and dearest friend in charge of the project.” Her
voice broke and her erect shoulders sagged. “Bernard Franks,” she whispered.

Clearly
shattered by his betrayal, she visibly shook herself from her reverie and
continued her sad story. “A few months ago, he told us he had located our
Tressa. She was going by the name of Kenzie Reese. Knowing I would get my hopes
up, your grandfather did not tell me about the discovery right away. He wanted
to meet you first, find out what kind of person you had become, and if you
would be receptive to meeting your long lost family.”

“And
to make certain I wasn’t a gold-digger, of course,” Kenzie threw in.

Her
grandmother had the grace to look contrite. “Yes, that, too. Your grandfather
is in a very powerful position. As you well know, he may make a run for the
White House.”

“I
guess that explains when we first met,” Kenzie murmured. “He enjoyed sparring
with me, as if it was a test. I suppose I should be flattered, knowing I passed
muster. Apparently I wouldn’t be too huge of an embarrassment to the potential
First Family.” In spite of her aloof jeer, there was a tiny niggling of
pleasure making its way into Kenzie’s heart.

“Not
an embarrassment at all. We are very proud of you and the life you have made
for yourself. And you as well, Makenna. You both are exceptionally fine young
women and we couldn’t be more pleased to be your grandparents.”

The
feeling in Kenzie’s heart blossomed and spread. It made her feel warm all over.
No one had ever been proud of her before.

Unlike
her sister, Makenna grew up showered with praise and encouragement. Madeline
and Kenneth Reagan had nurtured her, always supporting her and lifting her up.
She had never doubted their sincerity and had never taken their praise for
granted. But hearing the same words from Leigh Ann Hannah Lawrence - her
blood
- gave new meaning to her own sense of pride and self-worth. Humbled by the
simple words of praise, fresh tears sprang to her eyes.

“What
happened to our mother?” Kenzie had to know.

The
sophisticated, confident woman before them crumpled inward. Her face aged in
mere seconds, dissolving into a portrait of pure agony. Sadness gathered in
wrinkles around her puckered lips, tears flowed from her grief-stricken eyes
and marred the perfection of her make-up, her cheeks became hollow. Her entire
body seemed to deflate, until she looked old and haggard, a mere shell of the
woman she had been only moments before.

“My
Maggie is gone,” she whispered. With a low keening cry, she moaned, “She’s
dead.”

The
news should not have come as a surprise. Both sisters had suspected as much.
Yet the knowledge brought an unexpected pain to Makenna’s heart, and it carved
a deeper notch into the empty hallow of Kenzie’s soul. Now she would never know
the comfort of a mother’s love.

“What-What
happened?”

It
took a few moments for their grandmother to compose herself. She used both
hands to wipe her face and stifle the tiny sobs still hiccupping from her lips.
“From what we understand, there was a car accident. She was alone at the time,
somewhere in San Antonio. Bernard had tracked her to the city and was able to -
to bring her… body back to us.” The words were difficult to say and brought a
fresh flow of tears. “It’s been twenty-three years, yet it still hurts as if it
were yesterday…. We buried her in the family plot, near Sugar Hill. We searched
the entire city for you, but you and your father were nowhere to be found. We
had no idea where you were, why she was alone, what you were even doing in
Texas. You had vanished, once again.”

“She
left me at a church there,” Makenna said softly.

“Then
it was to protect you,” her grandmother said with certainty. “She must have
known she was in danger. She would have never abandoned you otherwise.”

The
thought brought a measure of comfort.

Kenzie
drew her legs up into the chair, circling them with her arms. Makenna curled up
on the sofa. Like children settling in for a bedtime story, they spoke at once.
“Tell us about our mother.”

For
the next two hours, Leigh Anne regaled them with stories of their mother. She
laced it with tales from her own life, and what she knew of theirs. It was a
bittersweet evening, lightened with bursts of laughter, dowsed with sprinklings
of tears.

Makenna
made coffee and served it with packaged cookies. Now sitting cross-legged in
the living room floor at her grandmother’s feet, Kenzie looked up from her
coffee and spoke the thoughts that had been troubling her throughout the parade
of shared memories.

“I
still don’t understand why he disowned our mother,” she said quietly.

“First
of all, I want you to know that your grandfather is a good man. He loved your
mother deeply, so her betrayal, or what he perceived as a betrayal, cut him to
the core. He acted harshly and not one day has gone by that he has not
regretted his actions. And your father… well, your father was a genius. And
it’s difficult to fully understand or communicate with men of that intelligence
level.”

“Yes,
I can attest to that,” Kenzie murmured.

With
a slight hesitance, Leigh Anne Lawrence allowed her gaze to drift toward the
darkened television set. “I suppose you’ve… heard the news today?” she asked
softly. Their nods were confirmation, one auburn, the other raven.

“I
want you to understand that Harry never knew what was happening.” She was
adamant on that fact. “And if it’s any comfort, I believe your father was
innocent, as well, a victim of circumstance. He was simply doing his job,
providing for his wife and family. But as he uncovered certain inconsistencies
within his job, he thought your grandfather was behind them.

“Joseph
tried to spare your mother, who absolutely doted on her father, so he hid some
pivotal evidence, thinking he was protecting Harry. As things grew more
complicated and your father realized he was incriminating himself, he confessed
to your mother what he had found, or thought he had found. Your mother was
devastated. She accused your grandfather of fraud and abuse of power. Her
accusations crushed him. He was beyond wounded, beyond angry. He lashed out,
demanding she believe either him or her husband.” Leigh Anne’s eyes shone with
tears as she insisted, “Your mother did the only thing she could. She sided
with her husband.”

“And
you?”

“Outwardly,
I sided with my husband. In the forty-six years of our marriage, I have never
kept a secret from him, never lied to him.” A frown puckered her brow. “Except
about this. I simply could not turn away from my daughter and her two precious
babies. I kept up a secret relationship with her, and I saw you whenever I
could.”

“So
our mother believed her father was a dirty politician,” Makenna mumbled.

“Yes,
and she blamed him for getting Joseph involved and endangering her family. She
said she could never forgive him for that.”

Makenna
nodded thoughtfully. “That explains the proof she thought she had.”

“And
why she hid it, instead of going to the authorities with it. She was protecting
her father,” Kenzie realized.

“I
don’t think I understand, dear,” her grandmother said with a frown.

Instead
of explaining, Kenzie had more questions. “You say your husband was innocent,
that he knew nothing of the scam, but what about our parents’ accusations?
Didn’t he check into whatever it was they thought they had found?”

Again,
her eyes glittered with tears. “Your grandfather was so utterly desolate that
he failed to get the full details of their accusations. It was weeks before he
calmed down enough to consider the possibility that their claims could be true.
Not his involvement, of course, but that some sort of fraud was actually being
committed. Again, he trusted Bernard Franks with the assignment. Harry knew it
was a delicate matter that could potentially incriminate your father and
further alienate your mother, so he wanted the matter handled with utmost
discretion. He had no idea… Bernard assured us that there was nothing amiss,
absolutely no wrongdoing, no fraud. At the time, we had no reason to doubt
him.”

“What
about you? Did you ever ask our mother for details?” Makenna asked.

“No,”
she admitted. “I avoided the subject. I was trying to preserve my relationship
with your mother, and I was pulled between loyalties. In my heart, I knew your
grandfather was incapable of doing something so blatantly illegal, but I was
afraid to push the issue with Maggie, lest she turn me away, as well. She
seemed so certain of Harry’s guilt…” Her voice was incredibly sad.

“She
had what she thought was undeniable proof,” Makenna told their grandmother.
“Names, dates, account numbers, even photographs. They all pointed to Harry
Lawrence.”

At
Leigh Anne’s incredulous look, Kenzie explained, “Our mother left me an
envelope. I’ve had it all along, but only recently opened it. It held
incriminating evidence on Modern Power and all its partners. She may have been
angry with her father, but apparently she still tried to protect him. She could
have turned in her proof long ago. But exposing the scam would have meant
exposing her father, so she came up with an elaborate plan to hide the
information. She used coded messages, hidden disks, safety deposit boxes,
secret keys… you wouldn’t believe some of the places I went looking for it!
Colorado, Wyoming…”

A
small gasp escaped their grandmother’s lips. “Our trip,” she whispered.

“What
trip?”

“When
our children were young, we often vacationed in Colorado. Of course, we later
bought a home and moved there, but that was many years later. But one day,
quite out of the blue, your mother said she wanted to go to Colorado. I
thought… I thought it might bring back pleasant memories, remind her of how
close she and her father had once been… I told your grandfather I was going to
a spa in Aspen for the week, but the truth is your mother and I packed up you
two girls and went on a wandering trip through upper Colorado and on into
Wyoming.”

“Did
you… did you go to Red Rocks?”

“Why,
yes, it was one of the places Maggie wanted to go. We had been there several
times before, but she insisted on returning. With you two being so young, I
stayed in the lower rocks so you could play, but Maggie was quite the
adventurer that day. She brought climbing gear and disappeared for most of the
morning. She seemed quite satisfied when she returned. She said it was the
fresh air and exercise. And of course I had plenty of my own exercise, chasing
after you two toddlers!” She laughed with the memory of it all, touching a
diamond studded hand to her heart.

Kenzie
had trouble imagining the cultured woman before them, decked out in all her
finery, climbing over the dusty and dirty rocks she spoke of while traipsing
after two small children.

Kenzie
brought her thoughts back into focus as Makenna asked, “Did you visit
Esterbrook, Wyoming, as well?”

Their
grandmother looked surprised. “How did you know?”

“Your
impromptu trip was really an excuse for our mother to hide information.”

Kenzie
nodded. “She probably knew it would look suspicious if she went off on her own,
so she pretended to be vacationing.”

“Suspicious?”
Leigh Anne frowned in confusion. “But who…?”

“Franks,
the mafia, members of Modern Power, maybe even the government.” Kenzie
shrugged. “Obviously our parents felt threatened by someone. Long before they
disappeared, my father created an elaborate set of alternate identities. He
funneled money into at least fourteen different accounts in fourteen different
cities. He set up a path of escape, long before we actually disappeared in May
of ‘91. And if our mother went to such great lengths to hide her information, I
think it’s safe to say she was very afraid of someone.”