Unraveled (3 page)

Her mother rounded the corner of the house in a faded red gingham shirt and worn khaki pants, carrying a bag of mulch. She dropped the bag to the ground and squealed with delight as Lauren slid out of the truck. Mitchell planted both paws on her hip and slathered her fingers with wet, sloppy kisses. She laughed and scratched him vigorously behind both ears. “It’s good to see you, too, Mitchell.”

Lauren gently pushed Mitchell away, raising her eyes and hesitantly gauging Mom’s expression. While she expected to find hurt and disappointment lingering in her mother’s brown eyes, she found them brimming with tears of joy. As if she couldn’t wait another moment, Mom enveloped her in a tender hug.

“Hello, Mom.” Her voice caught in her throat. Mitchell’s tail berated her legs. She squeezed her eyes shut.
Home.
She tried so hard to pretend she didn’t need it or wouldn’t miss it. But the warmth of her mother’s embrace melted away the façade of self-reliance she had carefully crafted.

Pulling back, Mom examined her from head to toe. “I can’t believe it. Has it really been three years? You look wonderful, love. A little soggy, but wonderful.” She smiled through her tears. “So glad you’re here.”

Lauren could only nod in agreement, swiping the back of her hand across her damp cheeks. In eight years, she’d come home once. For Pop’s funeral three years ago.

The truck canopy slammed shut and both Mom and Lauren glanced toward Blake unloading luggage onto the front steps. Mom’s mouth curved into a knowing smile as she turned her gaze back to Lauren.

“Your fiancé couldn’t make it?”

“Don’t ask,” Lauren shook her head. “I’ll tell you later.”

Mom furrowed her brow. “I see.” She moved toward Blake. “Blake Tully. It’s been too long. So nice to see you again.”

“Hi, Mrs. Carter. Where would you like these?”

“Oh, dear. Lauren’s room isn’t, well, Lauren’s anymore. I’m afraid you’ll have to put those up in the loft. Do you mind?”

“Not at all.” He disappeared into the house.

Lauren followed Blake and Mom through the front door. The aroma of fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies made her mouth water. Remnants of a fire glowed in the fireplace, and two well-loved brown leather couches flanked the stone hearth. The head from the first moose her brothers ever shot still hung above the mantle, as though he kept watch over the comings and goings in the great room.

Lauren’s eyes traveled up to the balcony that spanned the width of the room. Blake stood near the top of the stairs, looking over the hand-carved railing, holding her suitcases. When their eyes met, she remembered the many evenings Blake had spent in this very room, watching movies or playing their families’ own ridiculous version of highly competitive Uno. Did he remember, too?

She glanced away, pretending to study the guest book flipped open on the hall table. Only a few entries were listed for the whole month of June.
That’s a problem. We should be booked solid.

“Smells wonderful, Mom. Are you expecting anyone?”

“Yes, one young couple coming in on the evening ferry. Would you like something to eat? You must be starving.”

Slow, deliberate footsteps on the hardwood caught Lauren’s attention. She looked up. Granny shuffled toward the kitchen. The old woman paused and clasped her hands together. “Mallory, I’ve been looking all over for you.” Granny moved closer and waved a frantic hand. “You must come quickly. Mother says the baby will be here in a matter of minutes. Come.”

A plate shattered on the kitchen floor and Lauren jumped, her pulse racing. Her eyes darted between Mom and Granny. Mom stood at the kitchen counter, shards of her favorite blue ceramic platter littering the hardwood around her. All the color drained from her face.

“Mom? Are you okay?”

Mom just stared at Granny, a spatula dangling from one hand. She clamped her mouth and swallowed hard, but didn’t speak.

“Granny? It’s me, Lauren. Remember?” She stepped toward Granny and took one wrinkled, trembling hand between both of hers.

“No, no you’re Mallory. The baby will be here any minute and Mother doesn’t want you to miss it,” Granny insisted, her eyes cloudy with confusion.

Lauren’s stomach clenched.
Why is she calling me Mallory?
“Let’s sit down.” She guided Granny into a chair and glanced at Mom.
A little help here.
Mom cleared her throat and pulled a cup out of the cabinet. “How about some hot tea, Mother?”

Granny twisted in her chair and eyed Lauren, arranged her cardigan sweater just so and fished a tissue from her pocket. “Yes, I suppose tea would be nice.”

“It is so nice to see you again, Granny. I love blue on you. It matches your eyes.” Lauren hoped to draw her grandmother back to lucidity.

Granny smiled and patted Lauren’s hand. “Thank you, dear. That’s a lovely handbag you have there.” She tipped her head toward Lauren’s purse.

“Thank you. It was a gift from my fiancé,” Lauren said.

“How thoughtful.” Granny smoothed the fabric of her skirt over her knees and bracelets jangled at her wrist. Her beautiful silver hair was carefully combed and tucked into a small bun at the nape of her neck. Granny hadn’t given up her fastidious concern for her appearance. Lauren smiled. Pop used to tease her about her fondness for cashmere sweaters.

Two little girls with tousled blond curls chased each other into the kitchen, one squealing with delight while the other snatched at her sister’s blanket.

“Emmy and Ava, freeze.” Mom stepped in front of them, planting her feet firmly in their path. “There’s a broken plate on the floor and I don’t want you to hurt your feet. Can you say hello to Aunt Lauren?”

Both girls were speechless, blue eyes wide with wonder as they peeked around Mom’s legs. These curious toddlers looked nothing like the baby pictures that adorned her fridge back in Portland. If it weren’t for Facebook and Matt’s blog, she wouldn’t even recognize them. Her heart ached. She missed so much.

Lauren offered a tentative smile. Ava inched closer and tugged on a strand of Lauren’s hair.

“Cookie?” Emmy asked, her chubby arms outstretched toward Mom and the kitchen counter. Mom handed her a chocolate chip cookie from the cooling rack. Ava wandered over to investigate, mirroring her sister’s actions.

“Here, let me sweep up.” Lauren went to the pantry and got the broom and dust pan. “I didn’t know the girls were here. Where’s Matthew? I thought he’d hang around to say hello.”

“He planned to wait for you. Then Angela called. Sounds like Joshua fell and might need stitches. There’s never a dull moment in that house.” Mom loaded a plate with cookies and brought it to the table.

Before Lauren could dump the contents of the dust pan into the garbage, Emmy had removed all of the plastic cups and plates from the bottom kitchen drawer. Lauren blew out a breath.
Mischievous little things. As if on cue, Ava upended Lauren’s bag and scooped up the mascara and powder compact with great interest.

“Oh!” Emmy gasped, her little mouth ringed with chocolate as she examined Lauren’s iPhone.

“Um, I’ll take that.” Lauren dropped the dustpan and snatched the phone from Emmy’s grasp. “Thank you.”

Emmy’s lower lip turned down, and she released an ear-splitting wail.

Oh no. Lauren glanced at Mom. Now what?

“Girls, let’s give Aunt Lauren back her things, please. I’ll help you.” Mom kneeled down next to the girls.

Still whimpering, Emmy and Ava obeyed.

“I’m sorry, honey. Why don’t you go get settled.” Mom looked up at Lauren and handed her a tube of lip gloss that had rolled across the floor.

Lauren nodded in agreement. A hot shower was calling her name. She collected her re-organized bag from her nieces and headed for the loft.

Blake stood at the bottom of the stairs, brow furrowed as he studied his phone. He glanced up as she came closer. “Mission accomplished. Two bags delivered.”

“Thank you. And thank you for the ride.”

Blake shrugged. “No problem.” He smiled. “It is nice to see you again, Lauren. I hope you enjoy the time with your family.”

Lauren watched him saunter through the kitchen, admiring the view from behind as he snagged a cookie on his way out the front door. Her heart stuttered.

All that paddling suits you.

Good grief.
Still engaged, remember?
Putting those broad shoulders out of her mind, she climbed the stairs to the loft. A queen-sized sleigh bed covered with a handmade quilt in patterns of turquoise and chocolate took center stage. A once-empty niche under the window was now a built-in window seat, warm and inviting with a tufted cushion and several overstuffed pillows. Lauren smiled with delight as she sank onto the cushion, tension melting from her neck and shoulders. She was at the end of the house, tucked under the peak of the roof with an unobstructed view of the water. Out in the distance, the rich green curve of the shoreline gave way to the barrier islands that protected the small community from the harsh waters in the Gulf of Alaska.

“Do you like the new upgrade?”

Lauren twisted away from the window. Mom leaned against the door frame, an expectant smile brightening her features.

“It’s amazing.” Lauren rubbed the silky tassel on one of the pillows between her fingers. “I think I could sit here for hours.”

“I know the feeling. I hope it makes up for not being able to sleep in your old room. I’m sorry about that. After your grandfather died, it was easier to move Granny here than have to worry about her living alone. Your room was most convenient. With her memory issues it doesn’t seem wise to move her again.”

“I don’t expect you to move Granny just for me. What’s going on with her memory? Why is she talking about Aunt Mallory?”

Mom’s smile disappeared. Her green eyes filled with sadness. “Dr. Wheeler says it’s a classic case of dementia. Her short-term memory is poor, but her long- term memory is still quite sharp. Today’s hectic. I’m sure that adds to her confusion. And Mallory, well, that’s a story all in itself.”

“Do tell.”

Mom sank down on the bed. “I know we’ve never talked much about my sisters before.” She shook her head. “Our whole world changed in an instant.”

“Mallory died in an accident, right?”

“Snuck out with her boyfriend. They were racing snow machines, going way too fast. There was a terrible collision. Neither survived.” Mom shivered and looked away.

Lauren cringed. “That must have been awful.”

“Mallory was always a bit of a problem child.”

“What do you mean?”
And why haven’t we talked about this before?

“Mallory was a young mother, pregnant by the time she was sixteen.” Mom whispered.

The hair on the back of her neck stood up. Goosebumps pebbled the flesh on her arms. Lauren leaned forward, eyes wide with disbelief. “Where was the baby?”

“My parents took care of her. This house wasn’t always a bed and breakfast, you know. Women delivered at home all the time. I think that’s what Granny was alluding to when she tried to rush you out of the kitchen. Mallory delivered here.”

Lauren swallowed hard. “What happened to her? The baby?”

Mom’s eyes filled with tears. “She was adopted.”

Her heart lurched in her chest. Yearbook photos of teammates and childhood friends flitted through her mind. Did she grow up with her cousin and not even know it?

“Who adopted her?”

“A young couple who thought they couldn’t have children.” Mom’s voice broke on the last word. “I’m sorry I’m so emotional. My parents were heartbroken. My Dad never talked about Mallory again. Today was the first time I’ve heard Granny say her name in years.”

“Wait. What about your other sister? Jane? Does she still live in San Diego?”

Mom nodded. “Her boyfriend was transferred there and she left with him. She was so angry that our parents wouldn’t let her keep the baby.”

“They just left? Nobody tried to stop her? I can’t believe Pop didn’t track them down.”

Mom wiped the tears from her cheeks. “My parents and Jane argued for days. When they weren’t yelling, Mother was crying in her bedroom. I think when Jane left they simply felt relief. I know that sounds harsh now but they desperately needed to grieve.”

“So that’s it? Aunt Jane runs off to San Diego and never comes back?” Lauren twisted a ringlet of hair around her finger.

Mom sighed. “She pops up from time to time.”

“Pops up? Like visits?”

“She sends letters or e-mails, bragging about her latest trip to Venice. Then last week it was all about how she’d be here soon to start helping out.”

“What makes her think you need her help?” Lauren felt a muscle in her jaw twitch.
The nerve of this woman.

“Arrogance, I suppose. Or maybe guilt because she never had a chance to say goodbye to Pop. I can’t figure her out. But I would welcome her help with Granny, especially now.”

“Are you sure? She doesn’t sound like she’d be much help.” Lauren shook her head in disgust. Her parents had poured themselves into the bed and breakfast for more than twenty years. An estranged relative couldn’t just waltz in and take over.

Mom smiled wanly. “I meant financial help, sweetie. Long term care for dementia patients is expensive.”

“Mom, you can’t be serious.” A high-pitched screech interrupted their conversation. Mom stood quickly. She ran toward the sound.
“Sounds like the twins are having a disagreement. I better go check. Thank you for coming home. We really need you.” She blew Lauren a kiss as she descended the stairs.

Lauren fell back against the cushions on the window seat and closed her eyes, rubbing her palm across her forehead. This was more drama than she could handle, especially on the heels of an already exhausting twenty-four hours. What was that verse?
The sins of the fathers will visit the sons.
Or something like that. Apparently she wasn’t the only one in this family trying to make amends for her past.