Her Mother's Shadow (27 page)

In the middle of the night, though, she awakened. She'd been dreaming that a cat was howling on the beach, the sound so horrible that it pulled her quickly from her sleep. She sat up, her head groggy.
It's only Rani,
she thought. But the sound came again, and now that she was awake, she recognized it for what it was: a scream.
Mackenzie.

She jumped out of bed and rushed into the hallway. Bobby was walking out of his bedroom, zipping up his jeans, and she was surprised by the relief she felt at seeing him there. He could go to Mackenzie; the girl would be more at ease with him. He'd know what to say.

But he stopped walking when he saw her. “Go,” he said quietly, nearly mouthing the word, as he motioned toward Mackenzie's room.

She wanted to ask him to go to Mackenzie himself, but something in his face told her that she should be the one to do it. The screams had stopped, but the unmistakable sound of sobbing came from the bedroom. Nodding to Bobby, she opened the door.

Mackenzie was huddled close to the sleigh bed's head-board, arms around her legs and her head buried on her knees. Lacey sat down on the edge of the bed, and to her amazement, Mackenzie reached for her, arms outstretched, the way Rani reached out when she wanted to be picked up. Lacey moved closer and pulled the girl to her. Still crying, Mackenzie curled up against her, and Lacey held her tight, resting her cheek against her head. Mackenzie's skin was damp and hot, her hair soft beneath Lacey's cheek. She had to be in a bad way to want such intimate contact with her.

“Bad dream?” she asked into Mackenzie's hair.

Mackenzie's body jerked with a sob. “I
dreamt
it,” she
said, “but it wasn't really a
dream,
because it really happened.” She cried as she spoke, her shoulders shaking beneath Lacey's arms. “It was the accident. It was like it was happening all over again.”

Lacey closed her eyes, but instead of picturing the drunk driver ramming his car into Jessica's, she found herself back at the battered women's shelter, Zachary Pointer bursting into the room, his gun aimed at his wife.

“It's going to be okay,” she said to Mackenzie, although she knew that the girl's life would never truly be okay again. Not the way it had once been.

“She was looking at me when it happened,” Mackenzie said. “If I hadn't been there, maybe she could've gotten out of the way of that drunk…that drunk shithead.” Lacey wondered how Mackenzie would feel if she knew that Bobby had taken the lives of two people with his own drunk driving. Someday, she would probably have to know.

“Life is full of ‘what ifs' and ‘if onlys,'” Lacey said.
If only she and her mother had not gone to the battered women's shelter on that particular day. If only she had been the one to leap in front of Zachary Pointer's wife instead of her mother. Maybe Pointer would not have shot a child.
“We can't change what's already happened,” she said.

“Well then, life sucks,” Mackenzie said.

“Uh-huh,” Lacey agreed. “It truly does sometimes.”

“How did you stand it when your mother was killed?” Mackenzie kept her head locked to Lacey's shoulder. It was the first time Mackenzie had asked her anything about her own loss.

“Not very well,” Lacey said. “I rebelled, just like you're doing.”

“I'm not rebelling.”

“No?” Lacey smiled. “You're surly sometimes. You
shoplift. You steal money from my purse. You leave my vibrator on the kitchen table for all the world to see.”

Mackenzie let out a sound that sounded more like a giggle than a sob. “What does surly mean?” she asked.

“Grouchy. Ornery.”

The girl sighed. “I don't know why I get like that,” she said. “I never used to be that way.”

“I think you just don't know which way is up anymore,” Lacey said. “Your life has changed way too much way too fast for you and that's scary. When people are afraid, they can act out in all different ways.”
Thank you, Bobby.

“Did you get surly, too?”

“Worse than surly,” Lacey said. “And then my father started dating Olivia—you know, Jack and Maggie's mother—and that was terrible. I didn't like her at first, not only because I was afraid she was trying to take my mother's place, but because if I liked her, I felt like I'd be betraying my mother somehow.”

“Yeah.” Mackenzie spoke with such conviction that Lacey knew the idea had real meaning for her.

“Then I realized I had enough love inside me that I could leave a ton of it with my mother and still have plenty left over for other people.”

Mackenzie sniffled against Lacey's shoulder. “Do you love Olivia?” she asked.

“A lot. In a different way from the way I loved my mother. Olivia wasn't a replacement. Just a new person for me to care about.”

Neither of them spoke for a moment, and Mackenzie's body began to shake with a new set of tears. Instinctively, Lacey rubbed her back. “It's going to be all right,” she said, wishing she had the power to make it so. Each sob, each shiver that passed through Mackenzie's body sent a fresh
surge of emotion—something like love, but it couldn't possibly be that—through Lacey's heart, and she held her tighter. She could feel the protective shell she had built around herself, a shell she had not even known existed, slip from her shoulders and fall to the floor. What had she been protecting herself from?
Feeling this,
she thought.
Feeling this pain all over again.
And from the crime of being the compassionate sort of nurturer her own mother had been.

Finally, Mackenzie spoke again.

“Do you think things happen for a reason?” she asked. “That's what Amelia said to me. Other people said it, too. ‘This happened for a reason, Mackenzie. We don't know what it is, but you can be sure it was supposed to happen.' But I can't think of a single solitary reason why Mom should have died.”

“Well, a lot of people do say that,” Lacey said. “I guess it gives them comfort to think there's a reason for everything.”

“Is that what you think?”

She hesitated, not wanting to tamper with the girl's beliefs if they were giving her comfort. Yet she thought she should be honest. “I guess I don't believe it myself. But, honey—” the endearment left her mouth with amazing ease, and if it surprised Mackenzie, it surprised her even more “—I think people who have something terrible happen to them have to try to make the best of things. That's our task. That's harder to do than just thinking that things happen for a reason and letting it go at that, don't you think? Much harder. I used to think, ‘What would Mom want me to do?' when I was faced with a decision.” She no longer thought that. She no longer trusted her mother's judgment. But maybe the concept would work for Mackenzie. “That helped me so much,” she said. “It made me feel as though my mother was still with me.” The good mom. The mom who had not yet fallen from grace.

“Sometimes I think it was all a mistake,” Mackenzie said. “That my mother's still alive and will come back.”

“I know.” Lacey remembered that fantasy very well.

Mackenzie suddenly let go of her and sat back, wiping her wet face with her fuchsia-tipped fingers. “God, I'm so embarrassed,” she said.

“What about?” Lacey still had her hand on Mackenzie's arm. She didn't seem to want to let go.

“That I woke up screaming. I'm such a loser.”

“Don't feel bad. Dreams can be very frightening.”

“Did you ever do that?” Mackenzie asked. “Wake up screaming?”

It wasn't difficult to remember those months after her mother had been killed. She didn't think she'd been able to sleep long enough to dream. “I don't think I screamed out loud,” she said. “But I screamed a lot in my head. And that wasn't very helpful, because that meant that no one ever heard it, so no one came running to be with me.”

Mackenzie leaned away to look at her. Slowly, she raised her hand, reaching out to touch Lacey's cheek, touching tears Lacey had not even realized she was crying.

“I love you, Mackenzie,” Lacey said. She pulled the girl close again as the remarkable words filled the room, and she knew all at once that they were the truth.

“I
want to meet the new dog,” Mackenzie said, peering through the sunroom windows. She'd spent the past half hour watching Bobby's meticulous application of paint on the belt buckle, but although she'd kindly pretended to be interested, he knew that her heart had not really been in it.

He looked up from his work to see Clay and a woman standing in the rear yard. The woman had long gray hair plaited in a braid down her back, and at her side sat a huge, handsome German shepherd. The sun was so bright, it cast sharp shadows of man, woman and dog in the sand.

“Is that the dog Clay was talking about?” Bobby asked. “The one with post-traumatic stress or whatever it is?”

Mackenzie nodded, her gaze glued to the yard. “He said they were coming today,” she said. “Poor dog.”

It was Saturday, so Mackenzie was home all day, giving Nola the weekend for her real estate business. She had e-mailed her friends, talked to them on her cell phone and read books to Rani, who was now out running errands with Gina, leaving Mackenzie restless and bored.

“I'm not sure meeting that dog is such a good idea,” Bobby said. “Remember, he attacked someone.”

“I'll call Clay and ask him.” Mackenzie whipped out her cell phone and dialed a number. Bobby thought of stopping her, telling her not to interrupt him while he was working, but he knew Clay wouldn't mind. Clay had done a great job of involving Mackenzie in his dog training, and it seemed as though she was a true help to him.

They both watched Clay unclip his cell phone from his belt and raise it to his ear.

“It's me, Clay,” Mackenzie said. “I'm in the sunroom.”

Clay turned toward the house, and Mackenzie waved at him through the window.

“Can I come out and meet Wolf?” she asked. She waited for his answer, then broke into a pretty smile. “Sweet!” She flipped her phone shut and turned to Bobby. “He said it's fine.”

“I'll go with you, okay?” Bobby said, feigning curiosity about the dog, but his real reason for wanting to accompany her was that he didn't like the idea of her approaching the dog alone. He had little experience with dogs and had never been truly comfortable around them. Surely, though, Clay would not have said it was okay if there was a problem.

Together, they walked out onto the rear porch of the keeper's house and down the steps to the sand. Wolf stood up as they approached, and Bobby was surprised to see the dog's tail wagging. Nevertheless, he was glad that the animal was on a leash.

“Avert your eyes,” Mackenzie said to him under her breath.

“What?”

“Don't look him right in the eyes. It feels like a challenge to dogs when you do that. Like a threat.”

“Got it. Thanks.” Despite his lack of knowledge about dogs, that was one thing he did know, but he wanted to let Mackenzie feel like she knew more than he did. He smiled at Clay and the woman, keeping his eyes on their faces and away from Wolf.

The woman was stunning. She had to be close to sixty, but her hair was thick in the braid running down her back and her smile was very wide, displaying a mouthful of white teeth.

“This is Bobby and his daughter, Mackenzie,” Clay said to the woman.

Bobby and his daughter, Mackenzie.
My God. It was the first time he'd heard those words spoken, and although he was certain they were not the truth, they filled him with an undeniable sense of joy and pride. He couldn't resist resting a fatherly hand on Mackenzie's shoulder.

“And this is Susan,” Clay said to them.

Susan reached out her hand. Bobby hesitated a moment before shaking it in case Wolf might misinterpret his contact with the woman. Wolf, though, seemed perfectly placid. Almost drugged.

“Mackenzie's my assistant,” Clay said.

“Can I pet him?” Mackenzie asked.

“Let him sniff your hand,” Susan said. “Then pet his chest. Don't go for the top of his head.”

Mackenzie nodded, approaching the dog and letting him sniff the back of her hand. She reached low to scratch his chest, and Wolf leaned into her, obviously enjoying the physical contact. Bobby began to relax.

“Clay said he helped you train Wolf years ago,” he said to Susan.

Susan nodded. “He was a great search-and-rescue dog, but he's become untrustworthy since about two months ago.”
She described the terrifying incident Clay had told them about in which Wolf had been shot by the kidnapper. “After he attacked my friend, I considered having him euthanized, but I just can't do that if there's a chance of rehabilitating him.”

“He's so sweet.” Mackenzie was now sitting in the sand and Wolf had rolled onto his back for a belly rub.

“He's unpredictable,” Susan said. “I wish I knew what was going on in his head.”

“I'd like to have my dad look him over before I start working with him,” Clay said. “Give him a good physical so we can rule out any medical problems.”

“You'll take him on, then?” Susan asked.

“Yes. Are you willing to leave him here so I can work with him every day? He'll stay in the kennel.” Clay pointed in the direction of the fenced-in area near the parking lot.

“Of course,” Susan said, “although I'll miss him terribly.” She sat down in the sand next to Mackenzie and rubbed Wolf's chest while Mackenzie concentrated on his mid-region. It was clear that Wolf was in doggy heaven. Susan looked up at Clay. “How long do you think he'll have to be here?”

“That depends on the progress he makes,” Clay said. “I'll work with him every day, and of course, I'll only use positive reinforcement with him.”

Susan nodded. “That's why I wanted you to be the one to work with him,” she said.

Bobby heard the sound of a vehicle on the gravel lane and turned to see Lacey's car pull into the parking lot. Mackenzie waved to her as she got out of the car. It seemed that a small miracle had taken place the night before, and that the time Lacey had spent in Mackenzie's bedroom had been a turning point for the two of them. Lacey hadn't said much
about it, but she thanked him for encouraging her to go to the girl. When he came downstairs that morning, he found the two of them making French toast together, an easy camaraderie between them.

He'd felt awkward around Lacey the last couple of days, still reeling from the fact that she'd seen him with Elise in the parking lot. The middle of the night had seemed a safe time to meet, but it was obvious that he would have to be far more careful. Lacey had not bought his lies—of that he was certain—but she seemed willing to let the topic go and he was not going to bring it up again on his own.

Now he watched Lacey pull a scrunchie from the pocket of her capris and use both her hands to gather up her hair and secure it in a ponytail. Then she started walking across the sand toward them.

In an instant, everything changed. Wolf leaped to his feet, a growl forming deep in his throat. Bobby saw Susan tighten her hand on the leash, and Mackenzie quickly stood up.

“Hi,” Lacey called out with a smile, obviously unable to hear the dog's warning. She was ten feet away when Wolf lunged for her. Susan held the leash with both hands, calling out futile commands to the dog—“Come! Sit! Down!”—all of which Wolf ignored as though suddenly deaf. Lacey froze in her tracks, and Clay grabbed on to the leash, as well. Bobby's heart kicked into overdrive, and he gripped Mackenzie's shoulder and pulled her toward him and away from the dog.

“Uh.” Lacey's smile was nervous now. “This must be the infamous Wolf.”

Susan looked at Clay. “See what I mean?” she asked, bobbing around as she tried to hang on to the leash while Wolf snarled, baring his huge, pointed teeth. Even though Bobby's hand was on Mackenzie's shoulder, he could feel her heart pounding beneath his fingers.

Clay nodded. “It's very interesting,” he said, scratching his chin with his free hand as if trying to solve a puzzle.

“I think I'll go inside,” Lacey said, taking a slow step backward.

“You look like my friend he attacked,” Susan said. “She had red hair, too.”

“Dogs can't see color,” Lacey said.

“Well, they can't differentiate between red and other colors,” Clay said, “but it's obvious that Wolf feels threatened by you, for whatever reason. It's great we'll have a threatening person right here to help me desensitize him when I get to that point.”

“Oh, wonderful.” Lacey's sarcasm was unmasked. “So pleased I can help.”

Wolf was settling down again. He looked worn-out from his explosion of aggression, but a low growl still rumbled deep in his throat.

They all turned at the slamming of a car door and saw Gina reach into the the van to release Rani from her car seat.

“Tell her not to come out here, okay, Lacey?” Clay asked.

Lacey nodded. With one final glance at the dog, she walked slowly toward the house, catching up with Gina near the side porch, talking with her a moment as she took a bag of groceries from her arms. Bobby saw Gina quickly grab Rani's hand and look in their direction.

Clay turned to wave at his wife and daughter. The sunlight caught him full in the eyes, which looked like the palest blue glass. Like clear, seawater marbles. Bobby stared at his eyes, transfixed. Suddenly he realized why Clay had looked familiar to him. He knew those eyes, and he knew exactly where he'd seen them before. You did not forget eyes like those.