Kimberly Meter - The Truth about Family

God, he missed his parents. They’d bought a condo in Florida last year in search of warmer climates. With her arthritis getting worse each year, Ma said she couldn’t take the winters here anymore. They were coming back for the summer, but it just wasn’t the same without them. Although his sisters lived close by, they were busy with their own lives and he hated to bother them with the problems he was having with Danni. Turning to face the large bay window, he watched as Mother Nature did her level best to ensure that Granite Hills was buried under a soft layer of snow come morning. Colin thought of the McNulty woman and wondered if her flight would be delayed due to the weather.

He closed his eyes to relieve the burning behind them and briefly thought about giving that damn tea a shot. He needed sleep but he knew that if he went to bed he’d just end up tossing and turning, punching his pillow in frustration or staring at the ceiling. He was only thirty-six but he felt one hundred. The last few weeks with Danni had been hell.

And he blamed himself. He should’ve told Danni the truth a long time ago but he’d chickened out. Now, the secret was out and his daughter hated him for it.

A seemingly innocuous slip of paper, he mused bitterly, had driven a wedge between him and his only child.

How many times since that afternoon had he wished he’d burned it the moment it’d been put in his hands? A dozen, a hundred, a million? Countless. But he hadn’t. Like an idiot he’d put it in his file cabinet and forgotten about it.

Until he came home one day three weeks ago to find Danni standing in his office, holding it in her hand, her eyes full of wounded disbelief, demanding an answer.

“What is this!” Danni had screeched, tears streaming down her cheeks, jerking the paper away just as he’d reached for it—no, grabbed at it—in horror. “You lied! You said she died in a car accident when I was a baby but she didn’t!” She thrust the document at him, the broken-hearted look reflecting back at him nearly sent him to his knees apologizing. “This says she died five years ago—” her voice dropped and wavered, suddenly sounding much younger “—of a drug overdose.”

He’d tried grasping the death certificate she’d waved under his nose but she’d jerked it away, scanning it as if it would somehow reveal the truth to her as he had not.

“Danni, you don’t understand…it’s complicated,” Colin tried explaining, but Danni wasn’t interested in the reasons. “I was going to tell you when you got older, but the time never seemed right…I’m so sorry you had to find out this way.”

“But you lied,” Danni wailed, the tears falling unchecked to splash down the front of her shirt in wet splotches. “All that time… I could have known her. I wanted to know her! You didn’t have the right!”

The rise in Danni’s voice bordered on hysteria, reminding him of Danielle for a split second and panic fueled his reaction. “Like hell I didn’t!” he roared, his hands curling in his vehemence. His heart thundered in his chest and he fought for control but it was too late.

Face pale and lower lip trembling, Danni pulled away when he tried reaching for her and fled the room.

The echoed slam of her bedroom door reverberated in his memory. Lately, the sound of a slamming door was just about the only communication between them. Colin understood her rage, the sense of betrayal, but he’d had no choice.

He stared grimly at the gently falling snow out his bay window. That saying “the road to hell was paved with good intentions” could be tattooed across his forehead. His intentions had been good. He’d wanted to tell Danni the truth when she were older. Old enough to handle it. Instead, fate had different plans and here he was up to his eyeballs in misery because of it.

Colin dropped his head into his hands and drew a painful breath. The fact of the matter was it had been easier to tell Danni that her mama had died from a car accident than a drug overdose. And it sure was a lot easier than telling his little girl that her mother had tried to kill her.

CHAPTER FOUR

TEN HOURS LATER, after hopping a red-eye, Erin’s plane was touching down in Ironwood at the Gogebic-Iron County Airport on time, despite the storm that had the snow-removing equipment busy on the runway between flights. She rubbed at her eyes, blaming the constant burn she felt on the lack of sleep due to two lengthy layovers, one in Denver the other in Chicago. She tried not to think of the fact that she was actually returning to the place that she’d gratefully said goodbye to long ago.

For a dog.

Not just any dog, her conscience whispered. Caroline’s dog. Her breath hitched in her throat and she forced herself to ignore the pain in her heart and the fatigue that dragged on her heels. Let’s just get this over with , she thought, winding her woolen scarf around her face as she prepared to leave the warmth of the crowded terminal to find the Chevy Tahoe she’d reserved.

Although Erin wasn’t religious, she sent a prayer skyward as she got in the SUV that the cop was true to his word and Butterscotch was not frozen to her aunt’s porch.

Caroline had gotten the dog right after Erin had left, saying the house was too empty without her, and Erin had been glad that she did. It made her feel less guilty for practically abandoning her the way she did. A sudden prick at the back of her nose warned of impending tears and she sniffed them back. A part of her was screaming turn around, go back , but somehow, she kept on course and an hour later she was pulling into Granite Hills, a surreal fog surrounding her senses as she drove past landmarks that seemed locked in time.

Nothing had changed.

When she left fourteen years ago, the place where her heart should have been felt filled with broken shards of glass that cut and scratched each time she breathed; today, it felt much the same. Except, this time she wouldn’t have Caroline’s soothing voice to get her through the rough spots.

The weather forced her to drive slowly but her foot itched to press the gas pedal harder, if only to escape the flood of memories that were already pushing at her mind.

Dulcich Hardware—the only place in town to buy nails, paint and plumbing supplies.

Gottaleri’s Pizza—her first real job.

The Granite Hills Tribune —the only newspaper in town worth reading and the first place she’d nervously look after Charlie went on a binge, hoping—no, praying—that he wasn’t listed in the cop log.

Erin swallowed and purposefully dragged her gaze away from the shops lining the main street, grateful for the anonymity of the rental car. She wasn’t stupid enough to think that she could escape without someone recognizing her but if she could prolong it, she certainly would.

Going by memory, she turned down a side street and headed for the police station. Moments later, she was there. Aside from subtle changes to the building, it looked the same. Charlie had spent many a night sleeping off a drunk in one of the three holding facilities. She’d gone with Caroline—once when she was too young to realize what was going on—to pick him up. Her nose twitched at the memory of whiskey on his breath and she clamped down on a wave of nausea.

To this day, the smell of alcohol made her skittish.

Two officers sharply clad in blue uniforms erupted from the side door reserved for employees and Erin’s heart leapt into her mouth. She waited for them to climb into their squad car before exiting her own vehicle. She’d been crazy to board that plane. She should’ve listened to her instincts and refused to come.

But, she hadn’t. So, quit whining and get it over with .