True Colors (49 page)

I never even got to talk to him. It all happened so fast. One minute we were sitting there, listening to that bitch lie about my dad and then it was over and everyone was moving and they were taking him away in chains
.

Mom said don’t worry Noah, you’ll get through this I promise. But how am I supposed to not care that he’s in there alone?

My mom was right. I wish I’d never started all this. It hurts too much
.

“How is she?” Winona asked.

“You know Vivi. She’s being extra quiet and not going out much. I hear Noah is getting in trouble at school again.” Aurora paused in her work. She was busy creating a counter display for the store. “But they’ll be fine. It’s only been a week. She’ll get better again.”

Winona turned away from the gentle understanding in her sister’s gaze. She walked idly around the empty store, pretending to study the pretty trinkets for sale—the blown-glass wind chimes, mother-of-pearl earrings, pretty stained-glass windows that depicted the Canal and the mountains.

“Maybe we can get her to come to the Outlaw this weekend,” Aurora said, coming up behind her.

That was how it would be done, the reparation; they would go back to their routines and in time, this failure, too, would be forgotten. Almost. “Sure.”

Behind them, the tiny brass bell above the door made a tinkling sound.

Aurora elbowed Winona in the side, and she turned.

Mark stood beside a glass display full of local pearls. He looked exactly the same—touristy clothes, balding head, broad shoulders—and that surprised Winona somehow. With all that had happened lately it felt as if they all should look different.

She saw surprise register in his eyes and she didn’t move, didn’t even smile. An awkward hesitation seemed to fill the tiny gift shop, and then Mark moved toward her, smiling uncomfortably.

She met him halfway, forced a smile, and said, “Hey, Mark.”

“I’ve been meaning to call you,” he said. “You never come to the beach house anymore.”

“I’ve got it up for rent.”

“Yeah.” He glanced at Aurora, then back at her. “Can we talk?”

“Sure.”

She caught Aurora’s quizzical look, shrugged a little, and followed Mark to the door.

Outside it was a beautiful day. They walked down Shore Drive to the beach park and sat on an empty picnic table. Normally Winona would have filled the silence with nervous talk, saying anything to avoid nothing, but in the past months she’d learned a thing or two about words. Sometimes you needed to wait for the ones that mattered.

“I was wrong,” he said at last. “I still think you should have warned my mom and me, but I should have known you had to do what you did.”

“It didn’t end up meaning anything.”

He didn’t seem to know what to say to that, so he said nothing.

“I appreciate this,” she said.

“For what it matters, my mom is certain it was him.”

“And I’m certain it wasn’t. But I know your mom isn’t lying. Please tell her that. I just believe she’s mistaken.”

“That won’t help, but I’ll tell her.”

Winona nodded. She couldn’t think of anything else to say, so she got up. “Well, I—”

He took her by the hand. “I miss you. Do you think we could try it again?”

Winona was surprised by that. She turned slightly and looked at him, really looked, and what she saw was a man she’d liked once, and wanted to love, but never had. It freed something in her, that unexpected realization. She’d seen love in that courtroom when Dallas looked at Vivi Ann, and Winona knew that was what she wanted. She wouldn’t accept a watered-down version ever again. “No,” she said, making her voice a little soft. “We didn’t fall in love,” she said. “But I want to be friends, if you do.”

He smiled, maybe even looked a little relieved. “Friends with benefits?”

Winona laughed at that, thinking how good it felt to be wanted, and how empowering it was to say quietly, “I don’t think so.”

Winona stared down at the latest court case on the unreliability of hair analysis, wondering if it was enough for an appeal.

Her intercom buzzed.

“Winona? Vivi Ann is here to see you.”

Winona sighed. “Send her in.” Getting up, she went over to the window and stared out. The backyard reflected the change in seasons. Deep autumn jewel tones had replaced the summer’s brightness. The petunias were ragged and tired, the roses leggy and untamed. Summer was gone and she’d hardly noticed.

In the months since her loss in court she hadn’t noticed anything, really. Instead of curing her obsession, the loss had inflamed it. She couldn’t seem to let go of the image of Dallas in prison. And her weekly visits weren’t helping. Dallas had given up completely, if in fact he’d ever actually believed in hope.

“Hey, Win.”

“Ironic that my nickname is Win, don’t you think?” she said, not looking at her sister. She should have picked up her office. Now Vivi Ann was seeing the reams of Post-it-tagged paper, the file folders lying open.

“This all about Dallas?” she asked.

Winona nodded. Lying was something they didn’t do anymore. “Transcripts, police reports, depositions, interrogation notes.” She knew she should shut up, but that was the problem with an addiction: you couldn’t control it or yourself when under its influence. “It’s everything. I’ve read it all so many times I’m going blind. There’s so much that was wrong—the tattoo, the lack of real investigation, the rush to judgment, Roy’s ridiculously inadequate defense, the DNA—but none of it
means
anything legally. Even though it means everything.”

“I know.”

“You knew it all along.”

“I didn’t just give up on him,” she said quietly. “I spent years believing in a good ending.”

Winona finally looked at her sister. “I failed him. And Noah. And you.”

“You didn’t fail him,” Vivi Ann said. “Sometimes we just can’t save the people we love.”

Winona didn’t know how to live in a world where that was true; she also knew she had no real choice. “How is Noah doing?”

“Not good. He keeps skipping school. Last week he flipped off his science teacher.”

“Mr. Parker?”

“Of course. If I remember, Aurora once did the same thing.”

“I’ll talk to him.”

“And tell him what?”

“That I’m not giving up.”

“You think that’s what he needs to hear?”

“What would
you
say? Walk away? Just give up and let your dad rot in there alone?” Winona knew the minute she said it she’d gone too far. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

“You’re always sorry lately.” Vivi Ann released a heavy sigh. “Do you think I don’t dream of going back in time, of standing beside him?”

“I know you do.”

“Part of me is grateful I didn’t get to talk to him in court that day. How could he ever forgive me?”

“He loves you,” Winona said.

Vivi Ann flinched at that, but like a fighter taking a blow, she kept moving. “He’s in there and you and I and Noah are out here. That’s the way it is. The way it’s going to be.”

Winona could tell what was coming and she shook her head, as if the movement could deflect incoming words.

“I’m here to tell you what you once told me: it’s time to let go. The DNA test was a good move, and you took it and it failed. We both know it was all over for Dallas years ago. It doesn’t matter whose DNA was left behind.”

“I can’t—” Winona stopped suddenly. She looked up at Vivi Ann. “What did you say?”

“It’s time to let go. It doesn’t matter whose DNA it was.”

“Jesus,” Winona said, rushing back to her desk. She began pawing through the paperwork, looking for the DNA lab work. Finding it, she grabbed the file and then pulled Vivi Ann into her arms, kissing her hard on the lips. “You’re a genius.”

“What—”

“I’ve got to go. Thanks for stopping by. Tell Noah I’ll come visit this weekend.”

“Are you hearing me? I’m trying to help you.”

“And I’m trying to help you,” Winona said, and then ran out of her office.

“Gus tells me Noah is a crappy employee,” Dad said to Vivi Ann as they stood near each other on the porch on a cool September morning. Dawn was breaking across the ranch, setting the arena’s metal roof on vibrant silver fire.

“He’s having some trouble dealing with all this. He really thought Winona was going to get Dallas released.”

“Winona,” Dad said, and Vivi Ann heard the poison tip to his voice. Had it always been there when he mentioned his eldest daughter? The more she saw of him lately, the farther she pulled back. She could go whole days without talking to him at all. It wasn’t that she was angry with him; quite the contrary. But now that she’d seen the bitterness inside him, she had trouble seeing past it.

She looked up and saw Noah come out of their cottage. He moved down the hill in that lanky, loose-hipped way that always reminded her of Dallas. Her son was growing by leaps and bounds. Since his fifteenth birthday, he’d begun to look down on her—when he looked at her at all. Up on the hill, he walked over to the paddock, stood at the rail.

Renegade turned to face him, whinnying, but he didn’t move forward, even though Noah was offering him a carrot.

“Ain’t never seen a horse turn down food,” her dad said.

“Some hearts can be broken,” Vivi Ann said, hurting for her son, knowing what he needed right now . . . knowing that she couldn’t provide it. No mother should ever have to feel so helpless with her child. She pushed away from the wall and headed for the steps.

It was time to say to Noah what she’d said to Winona.

“I’m taking a day off, Dad.”

“What about your lessons?”

“I only have a few. I’ll cancel.” Without waiting for his permission, or even his agreement, she muttered goodbye and walked up the hill, through the dewy grass. Tucking her work gloves into her belt, she came up beside Noah.

“How do we tell him Dad won’t be coming back?”

Vivi Ann stroked her son’s silky black hair. “I think if Renegade knew that, he’d lie down and die.”

“I know how he feels.”

Vivi Ann stood there with her son, staring at the black horse. The white lines of his long-ago abuse were faded, visible only if you knew where to look. Scars were like that, she thought; they faded but never went away completely. “Get your coat. We’re leaving now.”

“School doesn’t start for another hour and a half.”

“I know. Get your coat.”

“But—”

“I’m taking you out of school for the day. Do you really want to argue?”

“No way.”

They went their separate ways for fifteen minutes and then met back at the truck.

“This is totally cool, Mom,” Noah said as they drove past the high school.

For the next two and a half hours, they talked about little things: the ranch, the mare that was ready to foal, Noah’s paper on the Civil War.

It wasn’t until Vivi Ann turned off the highway and began the long, slow climb into the Olympic National Park that Noah seemed to take stock of his surroundings. He straightened in his seat, looking around. “This is the road to Sol Duc.”

“Yes, it is.”

Noah turned to her. “I don’t want to do this, Mom.”

“I know,” she said. “I’ve been running away from it, too, but some things have to be faced.”

By the time they reached the main lodge, it was just past nine o’clock in the morning. The parking lot was nearly empty on this mid-September day.

She parked the truck and got out, putting on her Windbreaker and zipping it up. It was sunny at the moment, but this was deep in the heart of the rain forest, where the weather was fickle.

Noah stood by the truck, watching her as she came around to his side. “I can’t go up there.”

Vivi Ann took his hand, as she should have done so long ago. “Come on.” She tugged on his hand, felt him resist for the merest of time and then relent.

They hiked up the trail that was bordered by towering cedars on either side, into a world of impossible vibrance. Everything was green and rich here, and oversized. The trail wound deeper and deeper into the forest, taking her into her own past.

At the falls, they were alone, just the two of them: mother and son, as once it had been husband and wife. The area thundered with the sound of falling water; spray flew everywhere, stinging their cheeks and blurring their vision.

Noah stood at the railing and looked out at the falls.

Vivi Ann put her arm around him. “He loved it here, just like you do.”

Noah jutted his chin in answer. She knew he was afraid his voice would crack or betray him if he said more.

She held her hand out; spray fell like diamonds into her palm and turned instantly liquid. “He called this
skukum lemenser
. Strong medicine.” She touched her wet fingertips to her son’s temple as if it were holy water she’d gathered. “I should have taught you so many things about him and his people. But I never learned enough. Maybe we could work on that. Go to the reservation or something.”

He turned, wiping his eyes—whether from tears or spray, she couldn’t tell—and went to the small bower beneath the cedar tree.

Vivi Ann had prepared herself for this during the long drive, but now that the time had come, she was afraid. She followed Noah, sat beside him. As before, the waterfall sounded like an army thundering through the trees. Droplets of water fell from the boughs.