Fallout (83 page)

AT FIRST

There is no hint of recognition.

I could be a Jehovah’s Witness,

passing out literature. But then,

a rain:

Memory search

Denial

Rewind

Inquiry

Puzzlement

Recognition

Surprise

Shock

Stunned

Acceptance

Autumn? Is that really you?

She comes forward, hand

extended toward my face.

Suddenly I don’t want her

to touch me. I don’t know why

not, except you don’t let strangers

touch you, do you? I step back.

Annoyance shadows her eyes.

So much for imagined reunions.

NOW IT IS HUNTER

Who rescues me.
Autumn
,

he says matter-of-factly.
I always

hoped we’d meet one day.

Come in. It’s cold out there.

The house is full of people.

Thank goodness I’ve had a little

practice lately being around

a mob of not-quite-family. Lots

of introductions. Two aunts.

One uncle. A great-grandfather.

Another grandmother. Marie.

Three brothers. And my mother.

Everyone seems excited to see me.

I’m not sure how to feel in return.

Voices. Questions. Puppy feet.

Television, loud. Timer buzzers.

Oven doors closing. The whistle

of a teakettle. It’s all too much.

I ASK FOR DIRECTIONS

To the bathroom. Follow them

through a maze of halls and space.

This house is crazy. Compared

to Grandfather’s staid white

rooms, these are warm with wall

color, art, and hardwood floors.

I don’t know my grandmother yet,

but I feel her presence here.

She’s an author. I’ve seen her

books around school, though

I’ve never opened one.

I wonder if I would have, had

I known how much they relate

to me. I think maybe not. Surreal.

I wander down a long hallway,

hung thickly with family photos.

Hunter in Little League. Kristina

as a teenager. And uh … me,

as a baby. I was here all along.

I need air. I cut through my grand-

mother’s office, go out a side door.

Summer
LOOKS LIKE THE PARTY’S STARTED

The driveway is choked with cars,

lined bumper-to-bumper against

the berms of piled snow. “Did you

do all that shoveling, Grandpa?”

He maneuvers the Lexus carefully.

With a little help from your brothers.

“Brothers? Plural? You actually got

the boys to work?” That’s a surprise.

Believe it or not, Donald has become

quite a good helper. David would still

rather play with the puppy, but he’s

getting better too. Consistency.

We could all use a little of that.

Grandpa noses the SUV against

the garage, and as we exit the car,

the office door opens. “Who’s that?”

The girl is a year or two older than me,

with thick copper hair tumbling loose

to her shoulders. She is not dressed

for snow.
I have no idea
, Grandpa says.

She stares up into the crackled

blue sky, lost in solitary reverie.

I am connected to her in some

unfathomable way. The door opens

again, and out comes my mom

with some guy I don’t know either.

They light cigarettes, and Grandpa

Scott says in a stiffened voice,
Trey.

Everything clicks into place. Trey plus

Kristina equals, “Autumn.” My sister.

She pivots like a soldier on drill, goes

back inside. This day is full of surprises.

GRANDPA SCOTT SHIVERS

Cold out here. Let’s go inside.

But he creeps along, trying, I think,

to understand what this development

means. Trey has materialized, a ghost

of times best left unremembered.

And Autumn? What does she know

of those times? How much does

she really want to know? Still,

the little chills quivering through me

have nothing to do with air temp.

“I didn’t even know I had a sister

until a couple of weeks ago.”

Grandpa looks truly surprised.

Someone should have told you.

But so you know, Marie has been

trying to track her down for years.

I glance over at Mom and Trey,

who stand close to each other,

exhaling smoke into iced air.

“Why didn’t Mom ever tell me?”

Grandpa shrugs.
I’ve never

quite figured Kristina out.

It’s almost like she fuels

herself on secrets and lies.