True Colors (44 page)

He pushed back in his chair and glanced over at the door. “Did you ever see her when she brought home one of those abused horses?”

“Of course.”

“That was how she started to look when she came to see me. I knew she wasn’t sleeping, wasn’t eating. Believing in me was killing her, and I knew she’d never let go.”

“So you made the choice for her.” Winona sat back in her seat, stunned. It was like suddenly seeing one of those images hidden in a kaleidoscope of shapes. Once you saw it, you wonder how you could have missed it. He’d divorced Vivi Ann because he loved her.

“I didn’t say that. You did. What I said was, ‘Go away.’ None of this matters now. Vivi Ann’s gone on with her life and Noah will, too. It’s best if we just leave them alone.”

“You think Vivi’s gone on?” she said, staring at him.

In his gaze she saw a yearning that was like nothing she’d ever seen in her life. “Hasn’t she?”

“She hasn’t rescued a horse since the day she got the divorce papers. I guess all that took a kind of optimism she doesn’t have anymore. In fact, she’s like one of those horses now; when you look her in the eye, all you see is emptiness.”

Dallas closed his eyes slowly. “No DNA test will save me, Win. Say the test comes back negative. They’ll just claim I didn’t have sex with Cat before I killed her.”

“But there’s a chance. It’s not a slam dunk, you’re right—other facts convicted you—but I’m sure it will get you a retrial.”

He looked at her, and it was terrible, the despair she saw in his gray eyes. “And my son wants this.”

“He needs you, Dallas. You can imagine what they say about him. Butchie and Erik’s kids taunt him all the time. And he has your temper.”

Dallas got up and hobbled around, pacing along the table, chains clattering on the floor. “It’s dangerous to do this,” he said.

“Not if you’re innocent.”

He laughed at that.

She went to him, came up behind him. She would have touched his shoulder, but the guard was eyeing them suspiciously. “Trust me, Dallas.”

He turned. “Trust you? You must be kidding.”

“I misjudged you. I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t about you misjudging me, Win. You were so jealous of Vivi Ann it made you blind.”

She swallowed hard, knowing that accusation would stay with her for a long time. “Yes,” she said. “Maybe that’s why I’m here now. As atonement.”

That seemed to surprise him. “I don’t want to hurt her, or Noah.”

“I don’t know about love or damage or hurting, Dallas, but I do know that it’s time for the truth.”

It was a long time before he said, “Okay,” and even then, when he’d agreed, he looked unhappy, and she knew why. He knew this legal system—and love—better than she did, and he knew the price they all could end up paying for the hubris of hope.

In a lightly falling rain, the Grey family walked home from church. On this first Sunday in November, the town looked dull and a little forlorn. Bare trees lined the empty sidewalks, their rough brown trunks blurred by the misty haze that rolled in off the water.

From a distance, the family would have looked like a black caterpillar, huddled as they were beneath their umbrellas, winding their way up the hill and down their long, uneven driveway.

This was always the worst part for Vivi Ann. She was okay with the Sunday morning walk to town, the service, and the refreshments. It wasn’t until now, the walk down the driveway, that she remembered that it was Dallas who’d planted these trees. They’d been tiny, spindly, untried things back then; the ground at Water’s Edge had nourished them, made them grow strong. Once, she’d thought she was like those trees, rooted here, planted firmly enough to grow and flower forever.

By the time they reached the house, piling their rainy outerwear and rubber boots by the door, Vivi Ann’s mood was as gray as the weather. It wasn’t that she was unhappy or depressed; rather, she felt listless. Out of sorts.

And she wasn’t alone in this. Noah had been moping around for weeks now, too, quick to slam doors and disappear into his music.

Vivi Ann tried to put all of that out of her mind on this Sunday afternoon as she led the way into the kitchen and started dinner.

“You do realize that the sherry-Parmesan-cream sauce and pie dough defeat the healthiness of the veggies?” Aurora said as Vivi Ann put three homemade chicken potpies in the oven.

“It’s a Paula Deen recipe,” Vivi Ann answered. “Be glad there’s no mayo or sour cream involved. Besides, you could use a few pounds.”

“I get more stuck in my teeth than she eats,” Winona said.

“Ha ha ha,” Aurora said, pouring herself another glass of wine. “That’s so funny I forgot to laugh.”

It was a remark plucked directly from the grassy field of their childhood, and Vivi Ann found herself smiling for the first time in days. Picking up her wineglass, she said, “Let’s go sit on the porch. Supper won’t be ready for forty minutes.”

They all went out onto the porch and sat down. Leaning back into the frayed white wicker chair that had been Mom’s favorite, Vivi Ann put her feet up on the railing and stared out over the ranch. A silvery curtain of rain fell from the eaves, blurring the green acreage, making everything look distant and insubstantial. The beach-glass wind chimes clattered musically every now and then, a reminder of who should be here and wasn’t. It made her wonder suddenly what this family would have become if Mom were still here.
When you hear the wind chimes, remember my voice
, Mom had told them all on the night before she died. Vivi Ann didn’t remember much from those last few months, had blocked out most of it, but she remembered that night, with the three of them clustered around Mom’s bed, holding hands, trying not to cry.
My garden-girls
.
I wish I could see you grow
.

Vivi Ann released a heavy sigh. What she wouldn’t give for one more day with her mom. She tapped the wind chimes, listening to their sweet clatter. For the next half an hour, they talked about unimportant things; at least she and Aurora did.

“You’re awfully quiet today, Win,” Aurora said from behind her.

“You sound surprised,” Winona said.

“It’s Mark, isn’t it?” Aurora asked. “Has he said he loves you yet?”

Winona shook her head. “I think true love is really rare.”

“Amen to that,” Aurora agreed.

Vivi Ann hated how bitter Aurora had become since her divorce, but it was understandable. Love could reduce you to rubble; lost love most of all.

“You found true love, Vivi Ann,” Winona said, looking up finally. “You and Dallas gave up everything for each other.”

“Winona,” Aurora said quietly, “what are you doing? Are you drunk? We don’t talk about—”

“I know,” Winona said. “We pretend he was never here, never a part of us. When we see Vivi Ann struggling, we ask about the barn or tell her about the new book we’re reading. When we see Noah bruised and bloodied for being Dallas’s son, we talk to him about self-control and sticks and stones that we pretend can’t break our bones. But they can, can’t they, Vivi? Why don’t we ever talk about that?”

“You’re too late, Win,” Vivi Ann said, striving to keep her voice steady.

“Definitely,” Aurora said. “Bones are supposed to stay buried.”

“But what if the person isn’t dead? Should he stay buried then?” Winona asked.

“Let it go, Win,” Vivi Ann said. “Whatever your new obsession is, drop it. I forgave you a long time ago, if that’s what this is about.”

“I know you did,” Winona said. “I don’t think I realized how generous that forgiveness was.”

“Until you fell in love?” Vivi Ann said, understanding now. Her sister had finally fallen in love, and with that emotion came a better understanding of how deeply Vivi Ann had been hurt.

Winona took a deep breath. “Until I went to—”

Behind them, the screen door banged open. “The oven is beeping, Mom,” Noah said.

Vivi Ann got quickly to her feet, thankful for the distraction. “Thanks, Noah. Okay, everyone to the table.” She hurried into the kitchen and got everything organized—the salad, the cornbread muffins, the potpies.

Right on time, she served dinner and took her seat.

At the head of the table, Dad bowed his head in prayer, and each of them followed suit, intoning the familiar words of faith and gratitude.

It wasn’t until the prayer was over and Vivi Ann opened her eyes that she noticed Winona, standing off to the left, holding a sheaf of papers to her chest.

“Don’t make us listen to your speech again,” Aurora said. “It’s my birthday dinner.”

Winona moved forward awkwardly; it was almost as if she’d been pushed. “I went to the prison last week and saw Dallas.”

The room went silent, except for Noah, who said, “What?” in a loud voice.

Winona handed Vivi Ann the papers. “It’s public record now. I filed at the courthouse on Friday.”

Vivi Ann’s hands were shaking as she read the document. “A petition to retest the DNA found at the crime scene.”

“He agreed to the test,” Winona said.

Vivi Ann looked at her son, saw the way he was smiling, and she wanted to cry.

“I knew it!” Noah said. “How long will it be before he can come home?”

Vivi Ann pushed her chair back and got to her feet. “You think he’s innocent, Winona?
Now?
You didn’t say a thing when it mattered.” Her voice broke and she stumbled backward.

Dad banged his palm on the table so hard the silverware and dishes rattled. “Stop it, Winona.”

“Shut up,” Aurora yelled at her father. She looked up at Winona. “Are you saying we were wrong?”

Winona looked at Vivi Ann. “Not all of us. She knew.”

“Do you know how many times I heard about motions or tests or petitions that would save him? I can’t take it all again. Tell her, Aurora. Tell her to back off before Noah gets hurt.”

“You can’t mean that, Mom.”

Aurora got up slowly and stood by Winona. “I’m sorry, Vivi. If there’s a chance we were wrong—”

Vivi Ann ran out of the room, out into the yard. Rain slashed at her face and mingled with her tears. She ran until she was out of breath, and then collapsed onto the wet grass.

She heard Winona coming up the hill toward her. Even in the symphony of the rain, the drops hitting the fence posts and leaves and the grass, her sister’s heavy breathing stood out.

Winona sat down beside her.

Vivi Ann didn’t move. All she could think about was how much she wanted to believe in all this again, and how much her sister’s support would have meant to her twelve years ago. For a moment, she hated Winona, but then even that emotion faded. Slowly, she sat up. “It will fail, you know. You’ll get all our hopes up, and drag us through the mud again, and in the end Dallas will stay where he is and Noah will know how empty life can feel.” Her voice fell to a whisper. “So just stop, okay?”

“I can’t do that.”

Vivi Ann had known that would be the answer, but still it hurt. “So why tell me? What do you want from me?”

“Your blessing.”

Vivi Ann sighed. “Of course you have my blessing.”

“Thanks, and just for the record, I—”

Vivi Ann got to her feet and walked away. In the cottage, she closed the door behind her, went to the kitchen and downed three straight shots of cheap tequila, then laid down on top of her bed, heedless of the dampness of her clothes or the fact that she still wore her dirty boots.

“Mom?”

She hadn’t even heard Noah come into the house, but he was here now, beside her bed.

“How can you not be happy?” he asked.

She knew she should say something to him, prepare him for the devastation that came in the wake of false hope. That was what a good mother would do.

But she had nothing inside of her right now, no spine, no spirit, no heart.

She rolled onto her side and tucked her knees up into her chest, staring at the stark, soft white mound of her pillow, feeling the unsteady beat of her heart, and remembering all of it. Most of all she remembered signing the divorce papers. Leaving him there alone, with no one to believe in him. For years she’d been telling herself it had been the right thing to do, the only way to survive, but now the excuse rang hollow. In the end, she’d given up on him. Left him all alone because it was too hard for her to stay.

When she heard Noah back up and walk away, and close the door behind him, leaving her alone with her memories, she didn’t even care.

Winona walked back into the farmhouse, leaving a trail of rainwater behind her. She stood there, alone, watching her sister do the dishes in the kitchen. Dad was in his study, with the door closed, of course; the Grey family signal for I’m-pissed-off-and-drinking-my-way-through-it.

Behind her, the door banged open and Noah came running back into the house.

“You so totally rock, Aunt Win.” He ran for her, threw his arms around her, hugging her as if it were already over and he’d gotten his life’s wish.

Noah drew back and immediately frowned. “What is it?”

Winona didn’t know what to say. The magnitude of what she’d done uncoiled, swelled. She prayed she was doing the right thing for the right reason.