Magic hour: a novel (54 page)

George climbed the creaking porch steps.

Alice darted away from him, pressed her body against the side of the house. Her feet hit the metal dog bowls. The clanging sound rang through the chilly night air, then dissipated, leaving it quiet once more.

George looked at Alice, then at Julia. “I tried to buy her dinner in Olympia. She went . . . crazy. Howling. Growling. She scratched her face. Dr. Correll couldn’t do shit to calm her down.”

“It’s not your fault,” Julia said softly.

“All those years in prison . . . I dreamed she was still alive. . . .”

Julia’s heart went out to him. Slowly, she stood. “I know.”

“I imagined finding her again . . . I thought she’d run into my arms and kiss me and tell me how much she missed me. I never thought . . . never realized she wouldn’t know me.”

“She needs time to remember. . . .”

“No. She’s not my little girl anymore. I guess you were right when you said she never was. When she was a baby, I was never home. . . . She’s Alice now.”

Julia’s breath caught. Hope flickered inside her. A tiny flame of light in the dark. She heard Max come up beside her. “What do you mean?”

George stared down at his daughter. He looked older suddenly, a man lined by hard choices and harder living. “I’m not who she needs,” he said in a voice so quiet Julia almost missed it. “She’s too much for me to handle. Loving her . . . and parenting her are two different things. She belongs here. With you.”

Julia reached for Max’s hand, clinging to it. But she looked at George. “Are you sure?”

“Tell her . . . someday . . . that I loved her the only way I knew how . . . by letting her go. Tell her I’ll be waiting for her. All she has to do is call.”

“You’ll always be her father, George.”

He backed up, went down a step, then another. “They’ll say I abandoned her,” he said softly.

Julia gazed down at him, wishing she could tell him it wasn’t true, but they both knew better than that. The media
would
judge him harshly for this. “Your daughter will know the truth, George. I swear to you. She’ll always know you love her.”

“I can’t even kiss her good-bye.”

“Someday you’ll be able to kiss her, George. I promise you.”

“Keep her close,” he said. “I made that mistake.”

Julia’s throat was so full of emotion she could only nod. If this were a Disney movie instead of real life, Alice would give her father a hug right now and say good-bye. Instead she was huddled alongside the house, trying to disappear. Her cheeks were marred by scratches and streaked with blood and tears.

George turned and walked away. In the driveway, he waved one last time before he got in his car and drove away.

Julia knelt in front of Alice.

Alice stood there, her little arms bolted to her sides, her hands curled into fists. Her mouth was trembling and tears washed her eyes, magnifying her fear.

Julia’s tears started again. There was no way to stop them, even though she was smiling now, too. Her emotions were almost too big to handle; her whole body was trembling.

Alice looked terrified. She watched George drive away, then turned to Julia. “Alice home?”

Julia nodded. “Alice is home.”

Alice whispered, “Jewlee Mommy!” and threw herself into Julia’s waiting arms.

They fell backward onto the hardwood floor, still locked together. Julia held Alice tightly, kissing her cheeks, her neck, her hair.

Alice buried her face in the crook of Julia’s neck. She felt the whispers of her breath as she said, “Love Jewlee Mommy. Alice stay.”

“Yes,” Julia said, laughing and crying. “Alice stay.”

EPILOGUE

A
S ALWAYS,
S
EPTEMBER WAS THE BEST MONTH OF THE YEAR.
Long, hot, sunny days melted into cold, crisp nights. All over town the grass was as thick as velvet and impossibly green. Scattered randomly throughout the towering evergreens were maple and alder trees dressed in their red and gold autumn finery. The swans had left Spirit Lake for the year, although the crows were everywhere, squatted on phone lines above every street, cawing and squawking at passersby.

At the corner of Olympic and Rainview, Julia stopped walking.

Alice immediately followed suit, tucking in close, putting her hand in Julia’s pocket. It was the first time in weeks she’d done it. “Now, Alice,” Julia said, looking down at her. “We’ve talked all about this. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Alice blinked up at her. Though she’d gained weight in the past nine months, and grown at least an inch, she still had a tiny, heart-shaped face that sometimes seemed too small to hold those wide, expressive eyes. Today, wearing a pink corduroy skirt with matching cotton tights and a white sweater, she looked like any other girl on the first day of school. Only the careful observer would have noticed that she had too many missing teeth for a kindergartener and that sometimes she still called her Mommy Jewlee. “Alice not scared.”

Julia led Alice to a nearby park bench and sat down beneath the protective umbrella of a huge maple tree. The leaves overhead were the color of ripe lemons; every now and then one fluttered to the ground. Julia sat down, then pulled Alice onto her lap. “I think you
are
scared.”

Alice popped a thumb in her mouth for comfort, then slowly withdrew it. She was trying so hard to be a big girl. Her pink backpack—a recent present from George—fell to the ground beside her. “They’ll call Alice wolf girl,” she said quietly.

Julia touched her puffy, velvet soft cheek. She wanted to say
No, they won’t,
but she and Alice had come too far together to tell each other pretty lies. “They might. Mostly because they wish they knew a wolf.”

“Maybe go school next year.”

“You’re ready now.” Julia eased Alice off her lap. They stood up, holding hands. “Okay?”

A car pulled up on the street beside them. All four doors opened at once, and girls spilled out of the car, giggling and laughing. The older girls ran off ahead.

Ellie, in uniform, looking deeply tired and profoundly beautiful, took Sarah’s hand in hers and walked toward Julia.

“Of course you’re on time,” Ellie said. “You have one kid to get ready. Getting these three organized is like herding ants. And forget about Cal. His deadline’s made him deaf.” But as she said it, she laughed. “Or maybe it’s me, always telling him to listen up.”

Sarah, dressed in blue jeans and a pink tee shirt, carrying a Shark Tales backpack, looked at Alice. “You ready for school?”

“Scared,” Alice said. When she looked up at Julia, she added, “
I’m
scared.”

“I was scared on the first day of kindergarten, too. But it was fun,” Sarah said. “We had cake.”

“Really?”

“You wanna walk with me?” Sarah asked.

Alice looked up at Julia, who nodded encouragingly. “Okay.”

Alice mouthed:
Stay close.
Julia nodded, smiling.

The two girls came together, began walking toward the school.

Ellie fell into step beside Julia. “Who’d have thought, huh? You and me walking our daughters to school together.”

“It’s the start of a new family tradition. So, how’s the new bathroom coming?”

“Cal ordered a Jacuzzi tub.” Ellie grinned. “It’s big enough for two. He’s going to start on the addition next spring. Three girls in our old bedroom is a nightmare. They fight every second.”

“Have you met your new neighbors?”

“Yeah. A couple from California. They have two sons who already follow the girls around like lovesick puppies. I find it hilarious. Cal is not so amused. But I think he’s glad Lisa made him sell the house. Too many memories.”

“He always belonged in our house anyway.”

“Yeah,” Ellie said, sounding like a woman head over heels in love. After two expensive weddings, complete with all the trimmings, she’d finally gotten lucky in a tiny chapel on the Vegas strip.

They crossed the street and climbed the steps to Rain Valley Elementary. All around them women were holding onto their children’s hands. Julia noticed the woman beside her, a beautiful redhead with bright, teary eyes. When she saw Julia look at her, the woman smiled. “It’s my first time,” she said. “Walking Bobby to school. I hope I don’t embarrass him by bursting into tears.”

“I know what you mean,” Julia said. It was hard to let Alice go out in the world, but she had to do it.

As they moved down the hallway, a bell rang. Kids and parents scattered, disappeared into classrooms.

Alice looked nervously at Julia. “Mommy?”

“I’ll sit right out front all day, waiting for you. If you get nervous, all you have to do is look out the window, okay?”

“’Kay.” She didn’t sound okay.

“You want me to walk you in?”

Alice looked at Sarah, who was motioning for her to hurry, then back at Julia. “No.”
I’m a big girl,
she mouthed.

“Come on, Alice,” Sarah said. “I’ll show you to Ms. Schmidt’s room.”

Following Sarah, Alice walked down the last bit of hallway to room 114. She gave Julia one last worried wave, then opened the door and went in. The door shut behind her.

Julia let out her breath in a sigh. She wanted to smile and cry at the same time.

“Yours can’t stand to leave and mine can’t wait.”

“Yours didn’t live through what Alice did. Maybe it
is
too early—”

Ellie looped an arm around Julia, drawing her close. “She’s going to be fine.”

Arm in arm, they walked out of the school and down the stairs and across the street to the park. There, they sat down on the cold wooden bench and stared out at the town that had shaped their lives. The maple tree that had first welcomed Alice was a blaze of bright yellow leaves.

“What are you going to do, now that she’s in school?” Ellie asked, leaning back. “Next year it’ll be all day.”

Lately, the question had arisen in Julia’s mind, too. She’d had to ask herself who she was now, what she wanted. The answers had surprised her. For almost half of her life she’d been driven by her career. It had meant everything to her. Yet, she’d lost it in a heartbeat. Perhaps she’d had some blame in that—she didn’t know, would never know if she could have changed Amber’s future—but the blame wasn’t what mattered; that was the lesson she’d learned. Life was impossibly fragile. If you were lucky enough to have a loving family, you had to hold onto them with infinite care. Never again would she be afraid of love. She turned to her sister. “Max asked me to marry him.”

Ellie shrieked and pulled Julia into her arms, holding her tightly.

“I thought I’d open an office here, too. Work part-time. There are kids who need me.”

Ellie drew back. “Mom and Dad would be so proud of you, Jules.”

That made Julia smile. “Yeah.” She closed her eyes for just a moment, a breath, and remembered all of it—the woman she’d been less than a year ago, afraid of her own spirit and the danger of sharp emotions . . . the little girl named Alice she’d taken into her heart . . . and the man who’d dared to push past his own darkness, toward the light they’d found deep in this old-growth forest. For years to come she knew that the people of Rain Valley would talk about this special time, when a child unlike any other had walked out of the woods and into their lives and changed them all, and how it had begun in mid-October, when the trees were dressed in tangerine leaves and danced in the chilly, rain-scented breeze, and the sun was a brilliant shade of gold that illuminated everything.

Magic hour.

For the rest of her life she’d remember it as the time she finally came home.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

K
RISTIN
H
ANNAH
is the bestselling author of many acclaimed novels, including
On Mystic Lake, Between Sisters, Comfort & Joy,
and
The Things We Do for Love.
She lives in the Pacific Northwest and on Kauai with her husband and son.

B
Y
K
RISTIN
H
ANNAH

Published by Ballantine Books

A Handful of Heaven

The Enchantment

Once in Every Life

If You Believe

When Lightning Strikes

Waiting for the Moon

Home Again

On Mystic Lake

Angel Falls

Summer Island

Distant Shores

Between Sisters

The Things We Do for Love

Comfort & Joy

Magic Hour
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.