Family Pieces (21 page)

“You look like you’re feeling better.” Addison smiled as she entered the living room where her mother was reading.

Her mom earmarked her spot and set the book aside. “Hi, dear. Yes, the doctor said everything is looking good. Still waiting to hear about if and when chemo will start, but otherwise I’m doing fine.”

“I’m sure you’ll be organizing another charity ball before they can strap on the IV.”

“As a matter of fact, I’ve spoken to Claudia at the Autism Foundation and they have requested I head up their next event in March.”

“Mom, you’re not thinking...”

“Yes, I am.” She cut her off mid-sentence. “And don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. No sense moping around here like a wounded puppy.”

“This family never stops. Dad will probably be launching a new startup company before year end,” Addison said, shaking her head. “Speaking of Dad, where is he?”

“Hitting balls at the indoor range. No need for him to start a new company. He should be able to join the senior PGA tour as much time as he spends on his golf game lately. Anyway, going back to the fundraiser, I expect March will give you enough time to find a suitable date?” She insinuated Addison’s history meant no one would be lined up.

“Yes, Mom.”

“Didn’t you say you went out with someone recently?”

“Yes.” Addison cringed, wanting to avoid any conversation relating to her relationships or lack thereof. Here she was approaching forty and her mother still meddled in her love life.

“Who was that again?”

“Russell Masters. We met at your last charity event.”

“Aahhh. I see. Then he will fit in fine. Get me his contact information and I’ll make sure he gets a formal invitation.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Mom.” Addison quickly turned the conversation to a far less personal subject. “Can I get you some tea?

“Tea would be lovely. Thank you.”

Addison made her way to the kitchen. She pondered the thought of Russell and her together at a public event. There would be paparazzi and speculation about the two of them together. Certainly, they’d been seen together at the last fundraiser but this would be different. Arriving as a couple would spark interest. She wondered what he’d think about the scenario. Then again, she wondered if he’d even be around by then.

Karsen snuggled deeper under the down comforter on her bed. She felt secure in her old room and for an instant, forgot everything that had happened over the last two months. As her eyes fluttered open, it all flooded back in a horrific wave. She closed them again tightly and sighed. How her life had gone from common, everyday bliss to the plot of a
Lifetime
after-school special escaped her.

She sat up and hung her head forward. Her feet dangled off the bedside. There it was - the now familiar feeling in the pit of her stomach. She grabbed her duffle bag and pulled out a sleeve of Saltine crackers. The wrapper crackled as she opened the package.

“Shit,” she muttered to herself, trying to stifle the noise. She didn’t know whether or not her dad would question her hidden stash of nausea fighting crackers and she certainly didn’t want to find out.

She tiptoed to the bathroom and threw water on her face. She sloshed a bit of mouthwash around in her mouth, spit and then rinsed the sink. Her mission for the day was to search out the jewelry store that may have made the charms, but retail stores didn’t open for hours. She figured if she left the house before her father got up, he wouldn’t notice her skipping her regular dose of caffeine, which left her with some time to kill.

She slipped the keys to the spare car off the key ring next to the garage door. Luckily, her parents had kept an old beater for Brad and her to drive when they visited home. She scribbled a quick note –
Dad, I forgot I have a paper due Monday. Going to the library to finish it up. Be back later. Love, K
– and placed it beside the coffee pot where he would be sure to find it. Then, she climbed into the car and headed down the dimly lit, tree-lined streets of town. A light mist made the grass glisten. The crisp chill of the morning stimulated her. The streets were familiar, though she could not recall all the names. She subconsciously remembered where each turn led. She hadn’t planned where she would go first, but the car seemed to plot the directions for her.

There was no traffic at this early hour. Karsen found herself on the highway and slowed to a stop in the middle of the lane. She turned the car around and parked along the shoulder, staring at a tree in front of her. She could see lacerations in the tree bark and skid marks still striped the edge of the road. Her hands grasped the steering wheel tightly. It was here. In a split second, her life had changed forever. She questioned if the accident hadn’t happened, would anything else have changed? Would she have discovered James cheating? Would she, in a moment of emotive longing, have used the same lax judgment leading to her pregnancy? She figured her relationship with James still might have eventually ended, but perhaps not yet and surely not with a life within her.

Karsen got out of the car and walked slowly to the site. She touched the tree, unable to fathom the violent nature of her mother’s death. She knew her dad had placed the brown wrought-iron cross at its base as a memorial, but she was puzzled as to who might have left the numerous floral arrangements surrounding the trunk. She couldn’t imagine her dad had left them all.

As she stood there, she heard a car approach. Glancing behind her she saw a faded red four-door sedan pull onto the shoulder of the road behind hers and stop. A sense of danger tingled across her skin. She froze momentarily and debated her next action. Her cell phone was in the car. If she ran now she could get it and dial the police.

Panicked, Karsen whirled around and darted toward her car.

“STOP!” she heard a voice bellow as a man stepped out from the intruding vehicle. She didn’t. Living in the city, her protective instincts told her to assume the worst as she struggled to open her car door.

“You’re her daughter,” the man continued to call out as he walked slowly toward her.
Did he know her?
Karsen thought, finally grabbing her phone from the console.

“The girl in the photo. That was you?”

She clutched her phone and turned toward him, her body shielded by the car door. “Don’t come any closer!” she sternly shouted. Her thumb felt impulsively for the 9 key. She pressed it.

He stopped.

“Karsen, right?”

“Did you know my mom?” she asked indignantly, not letting her guard down. She moved her finger over the “1” button and pressed down. His face had a familiarity to it she could not place. She traced her memory trying to recollect where she might have seen him as her finger hovered over the “1” button not knowing whether to press it again.

“Not exactly,” he said, uncertain how to respond. He didn’t want her to leave. Not yet. Not before he could explain.

“What photo? You said you saw me in the photo. What photo?”

“There was a photo in the car.”

“How would you know that?” She remembered seeing the Christmas card with their family portrait among her mother’s personal effects pulled from the wreckage.

“Can we talk?” he asked, avoiding her question. He softened his tone to help ease her fears, but there was an unsettling desperation in his voice.

She looked at his car again, recognition beginning to register. Could it be the same one she saw parked across the street on the morning of her mother’s funeral?

“Were you at my house? Have you been following me?”

“No. Well, not exactly. Please, I just want to talk.”

She stared intently until she finally placed his face. He looked different in a hat, his receding hairline hidden. His baby face took ten years off his age.

“You were at the funeral?”

“Yes.”

“Who are you?”

“My name is Matt.”

Frustrated, she asked again, “How do you know me?”

“I told you, the photo. It was in the car. I recognized you as soon as I saw you at the funeral. I’m so sorry.”

“You were there when the accident happened? What are you, a policeman?” She glanced again at the rusting four-door sedan.

“No, I mean…no, I’m not a police officer. But I was there.” He paused. “It was my fault.”

“What was your fault?” Karsen felt a mix of anger and sadness flood through her, as her heart answered before he could.

“I’m so sorry. The accident. It was my fault.”

Karsen stood in stunned silence for a moment, absorbing the shock of his confession. She knew there had been another party involved in the accident. She had read the details on the police report. On paper, the individual had no face, no voice. She couldn’t confront this reality, not now. Maybe not ever.

“She’s dead and you’re here, free?” The thought horrified her.

“Define free? It was an accident. I would never intentionally hurt anyone. You have to believe me!” he pleaded.

She listened disbelievingly, her eyes fixed on his face as he continued.

“I come here almost every day. There’s not a moment I don’t regret what happened. I’ll never be free. I wish I could undo that day. It haunts me. It was an accident. I just want you to know how sorry, how truly sorry I am.” His voice cracked. “Can you forgive me?”

He wanted forgiveness?
she thought incredulously. His face longed for a response, one she wasn’t capable of. She slid into her car without another word, put the key into the ignition and turned the key.

Crestfallen, he stood, feet firmly planted, eyes brimming with tears, and watched as she drove away.

Karsen collected herself as she drove back toward town. Her mind reeled from the encounter with Matt. The man that killed her mother wanted her forgiveness. Her heart hurt. She choked back her emotions and focused on her original purpose.

There were four possible jewelry stores that her mom could have used. Her agenda was tight if she wanted to return home to make dinner for her dad. She couldn’t push him too far or he’d begin to question her again on why she came home.

She stopped by the first two. Neither store had records of creating a charm like hers. The third store was part of a retail chain and she doubted they made custom pieces. That left Milton’s. Karsen imagined Mr. Milton had to be in his seventies by now. His store had sat among the quaint old shops of Middlebury for the last forty years. The town had a heavy Amish presence and Mr. Milton’s old style jewelry fit right in. Karsen wondered why she hadn’t thought of his store first. It made sense that her mom would use him as he reminded her of Karsen’s grandfather.

She pulled into the parking lot and felt the car rumble over the gravel beneath. She didn’t know whether to be nervous. Perhaps she’d find nothing or perhaps he made three pieces and wasn’t able to match the original, end of story.

The bells attached at the top of the door jingled, announcing her entry. Mrs. Milton rose from her chair and welcomed her. Her aging hands shook as she waved Karsen in.

“Come in, dear. What brings you here today?” she said, smiling. Her sweet voice reminded Karsen of her grandmother. The soothing sound calmed her.

“Hi, Mrs. Milton. Actually, I’m trying to find out whether my mother bought some jewelry here in the past. She passed away recently so I’m not sure.”

“Oh, Mrs. Woods. You’re her daughter, Karsen. Look at you all grown up! I’m so sorry about your mom, dear. I’m sure it’s been hard.”