Lois Richer - Past Secrets, Present Love

Yet she seemed terribly afraid of even meeting with Sandra now.

Why?

Kelly leaned against the door and listened to the engine of Ross’s car as he drove away. She was odd man out, alone. Again.

Her friends each had someone special in her life. She had no one. It was a pathetic admittance, but the truth could not be denied. Kelly had no desire to return to the reception. Ross’s news had leeched away the spirit of fun she’d shared with the others. Now all she could think about was Sandra Lange. She was Sandra Lange’s daughter. Sandra was her mother.

The knowledge filled her with unbearable angst that she couldn’t explain. It was fear, she knew that much. But the basis of it couldn’t bear exploring, not now. Kelly moved through the house slowly, scanning each room looking for something she could do to keep her hands busy, her mind occupied. But the big house was as neatly pristine as she’d always kept it. Just like the rest of her life.

Except for this business with Sandra. She skittered away from that. What to do?

Her mind flew to the storage closet she’d been cleaning at the office. Now there was a project that would take her complete attention. So what if it was ten o’clock at night—on a weekend?

She thought about it for the space of two seconds then bounded up the stairs to change her clothes. Clad in a thick gray wool sweater and black pants, she tied on her hiking boots, pulled on her parka, beret, scarf and gloves, then reached for the doorknob. The winking light on her answering machine made her pause.

“Hi, Miss Young. This is Vinnie at the garage. I took a look at your car and—well, I don’t know exactly how to say this. It looks like your steering has been tampered with. What I’m looking at had to be deliberate.” A sigh. “Maybe you better call me tomorrow or Monday. We’ll talk about it then. Bye.”

Tampered with? Surely he was mistaken—overreacting, perhaps. Nobody cared about her car, or about tampering with it. Besides, she kept it in the garage when she was home.

Still, he’d been so definite. Kelly had no idea how steering on a car worked, but she knew Vinnie knew his car stuff. If anybody could fix it, he could. Until then she’d walk back and forth to the office. It wasn’t that far and she needed the exercise after many Christmas indulgences. Kelly pulled open the door and stepped outside.

It was a lovely night—cold, clear, crisp. A promise of things to come?

Deliberately stuffing away thoughts of Sandra Lange, Kelly crunched down the street, admiring the lights and decorations that twinkled in the darkness. Usually she loved the holiday season. Celebrating Christ’s birth, welcoming in another year—they were beloved traditions her parents had taught her to note as milestones. It didn’t matter that the couple was gone now; she kept their traditions alive just the same, as a way of honoring them. Only this morning she’d written about the coming year in her journal.

I hope it’s a year I can move away from the past, put my mistakes behind me and look forward to the future. I need to be free of the fear. Unable to delineate exactly what she was afraid of and unwilling to explore it further, Kelly had stopped there. She only knew that worry had lurked at the back of her mind for years, as long as she could remember she’d had this dream that someday someone would show up and tell her it was all a lie, that nobody cared about her, that she was all alone.

Kelly stopped, turned around and looked back at her house. White Christmas lights glimmered and twinkled under the eaves, above the wooden snowmen her father had created so long ago. Her house, though lovely, was also a reminder of the past. She’d chosen it with Simon, before he’d told her he’d made a mistake, that he didn’t want to marry her. She loved the old colonial with its four big bedrooms, where she’d dreamed of tucking in her own children. Children she wasn’t so sure she’d ever have now.

Was that why she’d hung onto it when he’d left, to keep alive the dream?

The dream was gone. It was time to admit that to herself and stop waiting for Simon to return. He’d made it clear that last morning before summer holidays began.

“I’m taking a new job, a better one, in New York. I don’t want to hang around this pokey place forever, meeting at the diner for lunch, spending Sunday evenings with couples whose only interests are babies. I have big plans.”

Plans that didn’t include her. She knew that now, but then she couldn’t accept that he would walk away without even discussing it.

“What about me, Simon? I thought you loved me.”

“So did I. I’m sorry. I made a mistake.”

A mistake. The words had devastated her.

“I need freedom. You’re afraid of it. You won’t take on the challenge of life, Kelly. You sit in your comfy world at that adoption agency and you spend your days handing out babies. Why? Because everyone expects you to?” His scathing tone had hurt. “You could do so much more, but you’re afraid to venture beyond this place. I wanted to talk about moving, to discuss our future, but then I realized, you see your future here. I don’t.”

In a way, Simon had been right. The thought of leaving this place, of going to a spot where she knew no one, where she was the oddball, where nothing was familiar—that made her blood run cold. The only thing she didn’t understand was why.

The familiar tightness in her chest signaled tension that she didn’t want, so Kelly thrust away the past and sped up her steps. She concentrated on breathing so she couldn’t think of anything else. Within minutes she was unlocking the front door of Tiny Blessings, punching in her security code. She locked it solidly behind her, then climbed the steps to her office. Once she’d removed her parka and winter accessories, she hung them neatly, then glanced around.

Her office was as she’d left it—clean and orderly. No papers marred the blank surface of her desk. Not that she felt like doing paperwork anyway.

What then?

The closet. It was the weekend. She could drag everything into the hall and leave it there till tomorrow. No one would notice or complain, especially not Florence, who wouldn’t come back until four o’clock Monday afternoon.

Kelly picked up her keys and walked into the hall. As soon as she turned the lock, the door burst open and broom handles pushed their way out, one knocking her on the temple.

“Ouch! Stop that or I’ll throw the lot of you in the garbage,” she warned, glowering at them as she propped the offender in one corner. With the brooms and the massive pail out of the way, Kelly could remove several dented, and probably useless, half-full paint cans. That left enough room for her to squeeze inside.

“Okay, now what have we got here?” She grasped the handle of the top drawer of the filing cabinet and yanked, but aside from a groan, the drawer never budged. Kelly tried the bottom one. Locked.

Why would someone lock a filing cabinet they’d left in a storage closet?

“Because they don’t want anyone to look inside, dummy.” She grimaced at her own answer. “So now what do I do? Pry it open?”

She couldn’t think of any good reason why she shouldn’t know what was inside, so Kelly asked herself where she’d find something to pry it open with.

“Florence’s basement,” she muttered and turned to the door.

To her utter shock, the steel door slammed closed in her face.

“Hey!” She grabbed the handle and twisted it but the door didn’t open. “Open this door,” she yelled. “I’m locked inside.”

No answer.

“Florence? Can you let me out?”

But Florence never answered. She’d probably left long ago.