Frost (4 page)

"What's with the stupid grin?" Crow teased.

"I need to make a call. Be right outside." Once outside the double doors I removed my protective glasses, pulled off the gloves and scrubs and dropped them all in their perspective bins. Reception down here was spotty so I figured hitting the elevator and going up a floor would make it easier for me to give Sarah a call.

Three days before the wedding and one text from her brightened my day. Or evening, since I'd slept most of it away.

When the doors of the elevator opened the last person I expected to see barreled out in her Sears vintage Zip and Dash day dress and pristine white Keds shoes.
 

"Mom?" I stepped closer but she stopped me with a hand slammed against my chest.
 

"Show him to me. Show me Jason."
 

I was pretty sure everyone in town could hear my jaw crack against the tile floor as it fell. How in the hell did she know Jason? Or more importantly, how did she knew he was
here
? Narrowing my eyes at her and her small frame I pointed to the door to my right. "You know who he is? If you know something about him you have to tell me because he looks just like—"
 

"You shush boy," she said in that tone that always commanded attention. "Not another word."
 

I watched her walk by me. She was so focused on the door I ceased to exist. I opened it for her and she moved under my arm.
 

The expressions on Noel's and Crow's faces were priceless. Crow had met my mom back when I was in college, but Noel? I wasn't sure because she didn't even ask when Jovita Frost went straight to the body and ordered her to lift the sheet. Noel did as she was commanded, then stepped back to give mom as much room as she needed.
 

Mom made small little chirping noises between her fingers before she reached out with trembling hands and touched Jason Frost's arm.
 

"You were alive…dear God you were alive. I thought…I thought the devil took you…my little boy…"
 

Me, Crow and Noel exchanged several WTF looks before Noel calmly stepped up beside mom and put a hand on her shoulder. "Ma'am, do you know him?"
 

"Yes." She said, her voice barely a whisper. "He's my son."
 

-5-

We sat face to face in the cafeteria of the hospital. I still wore the clothes I'd been wearing the night before as well as my hospital wrist-band. I wanted to go home, take a cold shower, crank the AC down to sub zero and drink all the scotch in my cupboard. I'd already called Sarah and told her what happened. She agreed to eating out another night and promised to meet me at my place with Chinese take-out. Even though she was only 3 1/2 months, she insisted the baby loved mushu-pork.
 

In the time between mom's arrival and our entering the cafeteria, I learned I had a twin brother, and the woman I believed adopted me was in fact, my biological mother.
 

We'd been sitting like this for nearly five minutes. I was drowning in my emotions, the cog stuck in my chest, the lump in my throat—I didn't know where to start or what to say. Mom bought us bad coffee, mine with as much ice as I could squeeze into it.
 

A bit of her bravado was broken. This wasn't the same woman that'd come out of that elevator, nor was it the same hard ass who raised me. Her hands shook but she still wouldn't let me touch her. Same now as it had been since I was eight.
 

I sat staring at her, willing her to speak. When she didn't, I finally found my voice. "You both of my parents were dead."
 

"Yes."
 

"You said you adopted me. And for nearly twenty six years that's all you've ever told me. Reminded me. Burned it into my brain, that you were
not
my mother."
 

"Yes."
 

"And now you tell me you are my natural mother and I have a twin brother."
 

"Yes."
 

I slammed my fist on the table, which of course not only upset our coffees but a few of the patrons enjoying the cool in the cafeteria. The gave me a sharp look, stood, and left. "Stop with the yes, shit—"
 

"Don't curse."
 

"—and tell me what the fuck is
wrong
with you?" That probably wasn't a good way to talk to my mom—but at that moment I wasn't thinking of her as anything but bug-nuts crazy.
 

Several beats passed before she met my gaze with her own. "Wrong with me? I was a victim. I was bedeviled, bewitched, and because of my dalliance with all those things the bible told me were sins, I was cursed to bear children." Her voice wasn't filled with pain. Oh no. I could see it in her eyes. Whatever lived inside of her looked out at me with resentment, denial and what I could only believe was hatred.
 

Well…it was a start. "You screwed around and got pregnant." It wasn't rocket science when I took all the biblical bullshit off of it.
 

"I was nineteen and where I grew up, an unwed mother wasn't a respected one. My parents wouldn't accept the idea I was pregnant. And when I wouldn't reveal who the father was, they sent me off to a special place near Buffalo, New York. It wasn't really a convent—but a place for young woman with my shame to have their children in silence." Her tone was tight. Controlled. And I had the sneaking suspicion she'd kept the humiliation in for a very, very long time.
 

Leaning back a little I waited for her to continue.
 

"I didn't know I was carrying twins until I the morning I had the both of you. I could hear you crying—you were born a few minutes ahead of Jason—but they wouldn't let me hold you or see you. And then Jason was born and the doctor gave me a shot of something," she looked away. "I fell asleep. When I woke up, you were both gone."
 

"Gone?"
 

"Yes. You'd already been taken away. I was nineteen and my parents controlled what I was going to do to the point they'd already paid to have the two of you adopted out." She looked back at me. "You would think I would have enjoyed such a relief of your burden, wouldn't you? But I couldn't stop thinking of you. I had nightmares every night, of the two of you dying from neglect. So I found you. Both of you. They separated you—can you believe that? Twins. Idiots. You were six when I tracked you both down. You were in Kentucky and Jason was in Seattle."

"Were we adopted?"
 

"I took Jason first. He was easy. They were a new couple, still trying out different parts of life as if they didn't know what skin to wear. Got a cat, turned it lose because of the liter box. Bought a dog, gave it to the neighbor because it had to be walked. They bought plants and they died because they weren't watered. Fish, they weren't fed. They advertised for a babysitter because they didn't want to have to deal with him on a regular basis. I took the job and within the week we were on our way to Kentucky."
 

Kidnapping was crime, but I had to admit, if those parents were that selfish maybe Jason was better off?
 

"Getting you was harder. The ones that adopted you were older. Had tried for years to have a baby. But eventually they made a mistake and I was able to take you too. After that we went as far south as I could where no one knew me. I rented a house and raised the two of you the best I could." She looked at her fingers as she idly tore a paper napkin into shreds. "There never seemed to be a manhunt for Jason. Your adopted parents tried to find you. And they got as far as Macon, Georgia. But after two years they finally gave up."

"Did they run our pictures anywhere?"

"Yours. But the thing is, kids change so much even in just half a year. Month to month you boys were growing. I was happy. We were a family."
 

"What about your parents?"
 

"They disowned me the minute I disappeared to find you, but I didn't care. My guilt wouldn't leave me alone. I couldn't continue my life knowing I'd given birth to two children and given them away." Abruptly her expression hardened and she started tearing up the napkin with more force. "What I never expected was for your father to show up and demand I give the two of you to him."

"What?" This was the first time I'd heard about my dad. "So he was alive when I was born. How did he know where you were?"

Her movements after that surprised me. Jovita Frost reached out and grabbed my hand in her own, locking my fingers together with the grip 'o steel. I tried to pull away but she grabbed the same arm with her other hand. The only way I could describe the look on her face would be to say it was terror personified. "He knew because he's a demon, Jackson. A demon!" she hissed and spit grazed my forearm.
 

I guess she saw it happen because just after that she let my hand go and sat back. I grabbed one of the un-shredded napkins and wiped the spit off.
 

"It wasn't supposed to snow that year…but it did. It was one of those freak winters where snow covered most of Georgie and into the top of Florida. It was a white wonderland outside. You and Jason were eight and wanted to play in the snow. We lived on a remote farm owned by a friend of mine, someone I'd met in the home in New York. Jason saw a deer and took after it. You and I chased him into the woods."
 

I tried to remember this wonderland, this icy paradise she spoke of but couldn't. I had no memory of that time. None.
 

"But when we found him—" she put her hands to her cheeks. "He was with your father. He was as beautiful as I'd remembered him, not worn down by the stress of life or worries of beauty. He stood naked in the snow except—"
 

We were alone in the cafeteria. I looked around when she didn't complete the description. "Mom? Except what?"
 

"—He—"
 

She didn't know how to describe what she saw. I'd seen it a lot in violent attack cases where the actual event was terrible that the mind throws up walls to protect itself. Finally, "He wasn't human from the waist down."
 

Of all the things I expected to hear, that wasn't one of them. "Not human?"
 

"No. He was a goat," Again she lowered her voice to a hiss. "From the waist down he had fur covered legs and cloven hoofs!"
 

That's it. I scooted the chair back and stood. "You're crazy."
 

She pushed up to her feet and splayed her hands on the table. "I am not crazy! I saw him, Jackson. And he had your brother in his arms. Jason was laughing and hugging him."

"So you're telling me you had sex with a goat?"
 

She landed a slap across my face. It stung, and not so much the actual pain but the fact she believed she had the right. If there would have been people still in the cafeteria I would have turned and walked away.
 

But there wasn't. Instead I reached out and grabbed her wrist before she tried it again. Anger churned inside my stomach and I felt flush as it bubbled over and made every muscle in my arm shake. "Don't ever do that again. Do I make myself clear?"
 

She tried pulling her hand free, her eyes blazing, her own rage palpable. I'd always been the humble kid, the one that obeyed, the one ridiculed by the other kids because he'd never known what it was like to be held by his own mother. Well now that kid finds out the cold-hearted bitch that insisted he was adopted
is
his real mother and is throwing nice out the window. "You don't understand."
 

"Enlighten me." I let her go and stepped back.
 

She crossed her arms over her chest and paced in a small circle. "I had to make a deal with him just to keep you. I couldn't let him have both of you."
 

"Deal?"
 

"He claimed you and Jason were part of his blood. He said you couldn't live in this world and had to live in his." She stopped and whirled on me. "But I convinced him he only needed one. That I could keep you and keep you ignorant of what happened. You would forget over time and I'd make sure you never knew. And he agreed—but now that Jason's dead he'll come for you. And I have to stop him."
 

"What?" I put both hands on my hips. "What in the hell are you talking about? Come for me? So my father's still alive?"
 

"Yes!"
 

"Then let him come so I can meet him."
 

"No!" she yelled out and held her arms out and up in the air. "He can't see you. I can't let him do to you what he did to Jason."
 

"Did to Jason?"
 

"He made him into a devil! He turned him into Jack Frost!"

I stared at her.
 

Thorazine. Or maybe Dopamine. One of the two might calm her down long enough for me to get the papers signed for her commitment. This woman was so religiously screwed she was
insane
. I leaned forward again across the table and put my hand, palm down, on the surface, but not with as much force as she used with her own hands. "Now
you
listen to me you whack job. There is no such thing as Jack Frost, and if you believe in stupid shit like that then why did you give me that name?" I tried to keep my voice down but the more I talked the madder I got. Hell I was so mad I could see my breath in front of me as if I was out on a snowy day. "My father sounds like a man who
wanted
his children—probably because he figured out their mother was a
wackadoodle
!"
 

It felt like I was reading a book with a lot of missing pages. Just small snippets of conversation with no cohesion. "You think our father turned my brother into Jack Frost?
The
Jack Frost?" I licked my lips as I leaned further forward against the table. "Did you not see his body in the morgue? His
human
body? He died from a knife-wound to his side. Someone came up behind him and killed him. A human crime, against another human. The rest of this is bullshit."