No River Too Wide (34 page)

“All I’ve wanted since the moment I left home is to know she escaped and know she was finally safe. That’s it. All these years in Asheville, that’s all I wanted, and now it’s come true. So why do I suddenly have all these doubts about what was really going on at home?”

“Because it didn’t matter before. You loved her, and her welfare was uppermost in your mind. Now she’s here and safe, and you can finally think about more than that.”

“Adam says I’m angry.”

Taylor thought Adam was right, and while she understood completely, she wished it weren’t so. Jan had a hard enough road ahead of her, and she needed her daughter. Of course she, of all people, could see this, since she, like Harmony, had allowed anger to color her own relationship with her mother right up until the very end of Charlotte’s life.

And that, more than anything, forced her to speak.

“I hope you can work through this. You’re entitled to your feelings, but...” She floundered for the right words.

“I know. She needs my support. I love her so much it should be easy.”

“Nothing about mothers and daughters is easy. And speak of the devil?” Taylor pointed out the window that looked over the parking lot. “Your mom, my daughter. Generations in turmoil.”

Harmony reached for Lottie. “What can I do to avoid this with Lottie, do you think?”

“I don’t know. Stop caring? That might stem the tide.”

“Not possible.”

Taylor shrugged. “Then your guess is as good as mine.”

Chapter 27

From the audio journal of a forty-five-year-old woman, taped for the files of Moving On, an underground highway for abused women.

I have debated whether to record this. But who am I trying to protect? The Abuser, who taught me to put his ego and needs above everyone, and whose shadow still hovers over me? The son who left this world too soon? The daughter who never saw her father at his most demonic? For her sake should I preserve a hint of false decency for the man whose genes she carries? Or will knowing the truth help her understand and accept her childhood, and the chain that kept me bound to my husband and home?

The story is best told quickly. During my second pregnancy, after I realized that the man I had married would never change except to grow more cruel and violent, I began making plans to leave and take my son and unborn daughter with me. As careful as I was, the Abuser learned my intentions.

I remember that the particular summer afternoon when my life changed forever was a sunny one, and the Abuser was particularly kind and solicitous. It was a Wednesday, when he was normally at the office, but he had taken the day off. He thought I might enjoy a picnic with our little boy before our daughter came into the world, and he had chosen a spot for us beside a gentle creek. The picnic area was remote and rarely used, and since it was a weekday the area was deserted. I laid out our lunch, and because it was hot, I took our son by his tiny hand to wade. His father took the other, the trusting, soft hand of the little boy who adored him.

Then, where the water deepened, my husband took my beloved child in his arms, lowered him into the water and held him under the surface while he told me that he knew I planned to run away, and that our son would be better off dead if he couldn’t be with the father who loved him.

I screamed and fought and tried to free my baby, but only when I promised I would never, never leave him did he lift our little boy, who was no longer breathing, out of the water. The Abuser carried him to the shore, and with little emotion he cleared our son’s airways and breathed life back into him.

Then he ate his lunch and lounged in the sun to enjoy the rest of our day together.

Why didn’t I report this to the authorities?

What proof did I have that it had ever happened? The Abuser was a successful businessman and church leader, and sadly, as he had told so many, I was “too easily overwrought” to be out in public very often.

The only proof was engraved forever in my heart and soul.

I was married to a man who would do anything to get what he wanted. If I’d had any doubts in the past, now I had seen the ultimate demonstration. If the Abuser loved anyone, it was his son. And I know on that day he would have drowned him like an unwanted kitten if I hadn’t come to heel.

Later, of course, he explained his actions. As always, I had driven him to it. The thought of losing me and his children had overwhelmed him, and as I must know, he had been temporarily insane. Of course, he would have come to his senses in time to keep our son from dying. How could I ever think otherwise? But a man in turmoil was a man who might do anything before he regained self-control.

He hoped I had learned never to force him over the edge again.

* * *

Maddie was on a roll. Jan remembered Harmony at the same age. While pouting and complaining had never been an option when Rex was at home, alone with her mother she had indulged in both. Preadolescence was a fearsome thing. One slight, one snide comment, one raised eyebrow, and the whole day took a downward slide into a pool of despair.

“So then she told me my homework was late and she was going to lower my grade. Even though I told her yesterday that I hadn’t understood the assignment and needed an extra day to do it again and get it right.”

Jan parked and turned off the engine, opening her door before she answered. “It sounds like you thought she wouldn’t care if it was late.”

“Who cares if it’s late? Late’s not as bad as wrong.”

Jan refrained from pointing out that on time and right would have been even better. “It must have been a complicated assignment.”

Maddie opened her door, then tugged Vanilla out of the backseat of the car, which was one of only three parked in the Evolution lot. “It wasn’t complicated. Not exactly.”

“But easy to misunderstand.”

They were halfway up the sidewalk to the patio before Maddie answered, “Well, I was kind of not paying attention when she told us what to do. But I did do it right at the end, and that ought to count most of all. It’s supposed to be about learning, right?”

Vanilla stopped to sniff one of the planters on the patio, and Jan turned to look at the river below them. She loved everything about Taylor’s studio except the proximity to the French Broad. She couldn’t be around any body of water without remembering the day Rex had nearly killed their son. The two would always merge. Bright sunlight, the water pooling around her knees, her baby son’s hand in hers.

Today, even from this distance, the rushing water made her dizzy, and abruptly she turned away.

“Have you ever seen the river this high?” she asked Maddie, hoping to change the topic.

“No. One of my friends said she went tubing before it got so fast.”

“That’s a terrible idea.”

“I don’t know why. She said it was fun.”

“Only if it’s shallow and slow. The river’s dangerous now.”

“Well, I want to see it up closer. I’m going to ask my mom if I can walk down nearer the edge.”

Jan forced herself to breathe. She suspected Taylor wouldn’t let Maddie go unless she was accompanied all the way. And the girl was rebellious, but only a little. She was also too smart to purposely put herself in harm’s way.

“I don’t know how long we can stay. Your mom might be in the middle of something. I think we’re supposed to drop off the papers and run.”

“I want to spend the night with Edna. She asked at school. I have to ask Mom, so she’d better not be too busy.”

Jan wished she could alert Taylor that letting Maddie spend the night elsewhere was the best possible solution to her daughter’s mood and the best hope for a peaceful evening.

Vanilla finished sniffing, and Maddie opened the back door into Evolution. The dog and girl went in search of Taylor. Jan followed at a slower pace, and when she turned the corner she found her own daughter and Lottie in the hallway.

“I didn’t know you would be here,” she said, before she could think better of it.

Harmony didn’t hug her, as if to point out they were supposed to be strangers. “We were both at Taylor’s for Halloween. The sky didn’t fall in. But I’m sorry. If I’d known you were coming, I would have stayed away.”

“I’m sure it’s okay.” Although she wasn’t sure at all.

“I was starving, so I stopped for a wrap.” Harmony held up a paper bag. “I’ll eat it on the way home.”

Jan leaned over to give her granddaughter a quick kiss. “You’re leaving because I showed up, aren’t you?”

“You say that’s important. Nothing’s changed, has it?”

Jan heard the “you say” and tensed. “Of course, you’ll be the first to know.”

Taylor and Maddie and the dog came out of the office, and Maddie’s pout looked deeply and permanently engraved into her face. “I want to see the river up close. I’m not stupid. I won’t get too close and fall in or anything.”

Taylor turned to Jan and ignored her daughter. “Maddie wants to spend the night with Edna. Did she tell you? Would you mind very much helping her pack and get over there?”

“Like I can’t put pajamas and a toothbrush in a backpack?” Maddie said.

Taylor put her hand on Maddie’s shoulder, and not to comfort her. “Maddie, I bet if you work harder you can be polite. And this would be the moment to start. Nobody’s going to do you any favors if you’re rude.”

“Nobody’s doing any—” Maddie stopped herself, as if she’d realized that one more salvo in her personal war against authority would ruin all her plans for the evening.

“I’ll be happy to get Maddie to Edna’s,” Jan said quickly, in case Maddie decided to go for broke. “Then I have a meeting.” She glanced at her daughter. “The costume department at On Stage meets tonight, and I thought I might go see what it’s all about.”

“Cool.” Harmony sounded as though she meant it, and Jan relaxed an inch.

“I still don’t see why I can’t walk down to the river,” Maddie said, in a politer tone. “I promise not to get too close.”

Harmony shifted Lottie to the other hip. “I was going to take a look myself. I’m going to leave my wrap in the car and walk down. Maddie can come with me if you’re willing.” She addressed the last to Taylor. “I’ll make sure she gets back to the studio.”

Taylor considered. “Okay, but leave Vanilla with Jan and me. You don’t need another distraction.”

Jan wasn’t surprised Harmony hadn’t invited her, nor was she unhappy. What she was? Worried. Fear of water would be Rex’s permanent legacy, even though there was no logical reason to feel anxious because her daughter was taking Lottie and Maddie to the riverbank. She would be careful, and Maddie, despite the bravado, wasn’t prone to taking risks. Still, her own legs were threatening collapse.

Harmony nodded toward the door. “Come on, Maddie. Let’s boogie.”

As the trio disappeared down the hall to the back door Taylor held Vanilla by the collar. There was a path of sorts down the hill from Evolution’s patio, then a flat stretch with railroad tracks cutting across it, and finally the river, which today was closer to the tracks than Jan had ever imagined it.

Taylor told Vanilla to sit, and the dog obliged, but it was clear she didn’t like being left out of the fun. Taylor continued to hold her collar. “So who invited you to the meeting tonight?”

“Fletcher called this morning.”

“He seems like a great guy. Nate’s been building sets for On Stage ever since he got out of the army, and he says everybody loves Fletcher, even when the chips are down.”

“It’s so easy to get what you want by being nice, isn’t it?”

“Only if what you want falls within the parameters of human decency.” Taylor hesitated. “Speaking of which, I may not get home until very late tonight. If at all.”

Jan didn’t have to ask why. She had seen Adam and Taylor together often enough to know what was happening. “I won’t wait up.”

“You’ll be okay in the house by yourself? You’ll turn on the security system?”

Jan wasn’t worried about tonight; she was worried about now. She wasn’t okay, not even close. Inside she was screaming.

She faked a smile, something she’d had a lot of practice doing through the years. “I’ll be fine. I think I’m going to go out on the patio and watch what’s happening below.”

“Why don’t you join them? It’s not a steep climb.”

Even though Taylor was beginning to feel like a second daughter, there were some things Jan didn’t want to share. “I might.”

“Vanilla and I are going to finish my paperwork. Come on, Nilla.”

Jan headed down the hall the way the others had gone and peered out through a window looking over the patio. She couldn’t see Harmony or the girls, and she knew she had to walk outside to watch their progress. She took a deep breath and opened the door, walking to the edge and peering down while trying to avoid looking at the river. The trio wasn’t at the water’s edge, or even quite to the railroad track, but they were getting close.

Maddie was walking right beside Harmony, which helped calm Jan’s churning stomach. She didn’t have to watch; she knew that. She could escape back inside, maybe have a cup of tea in the café. Or she could start down the hill herself so she was closer.

Just in case.

The first made sense; the second didn’t. She stepped off the patio and took the steps to the ground below, anyway. Then she started down the hillside path. She wasn’t sure why she was following the others. Perhaps to surprise her daughter, who believed her fear of water was a childhood leftover and could be overcome. Perhaps to assure herself that nothing happened. Perhaps to prove to herself that Rex was no longer controlling every move she made. The river was still far away, and she knew she could stop before she neared it.

The ground had leveled, and she was nearing the railroad tracks when she heard something behind her. The air seemed to vibrate, and a blur shot past on her right. A moment passed before she realized the blur was Vanilla.

“Vanilla!” She stepped up her speed and shouted again, but the dog, who was well ahead of her now, didn’t hesitate. She continued running, barking with excitement. Jan began to run, although she knew that catching the dog before it caught up to Maddie was impossible.