Freefall (51 page)

But when she spoke it was surprisingly honest. “I never wanted to be married. But Mary did and so I had to.”

“What are you talking about?” His tone was weary.

“It was always Mary. Not just with Mum and Dad, but with
everyone
. It was as though she sucked up all the attention, all the good feelings in the world. I had to fight just to be noticed. ‘Don’t interrupt, Myra, your sister’s talking.’ ” She spread her hands. “ ‘Take this to your sister; do that for your sister.’ ”

The bitterness shouldn’t surprise him, though she’d never discussed it before. He’d thought their lack of relationship strange, but Myra had used it to mock his closeness to Nica, and he’d been unsure enough to wonder.

“No one ever saw me. It was always, ‘Oh, you’re Mary’s sister,’ or ‘You’re the other Blakeney girl.’ They didn’t even give me my own name, just rearranged the letters of hers. How wrong is that?”

He tried to remember if she’d ever talked about her childhood. But that would have fallen into “looking back”—a taboo that gave this conversation an eerie unfamiliarity.

“Her wedding was
the event
. I was maid of honor so that I could witness firsthand how
perfect
she was.” The words poured out of her as never before, words that meant something, told him something. “So I had to make mine even better. And there you were. You looked at me as though I was the most interesting, amazing person you’d ever known.”

She had been. In a way.

“It had taken Tom a year to ask Mary, but after one month, you wanted to marry me.”

Two months later they had. And now he knew why. Mary had a husband, so Myra needed one.

“I wasn’t a good wife.” She sniffed. “I know I hurt you.”

His throat tightened.

“But when I realized I was pregnant, I had my chance. I could do what Mary never would. I could have a baby I didn’t want and give it to her. And every day she would look at the child she loved and know he was mine. I had won.”

She’d taken away his son to best her sister. He shook his head.

“Cameron, hurting you is my only regret. I wish … I could turn back time.”

“And not leave?” A ghost of a voice.

“And not marry you.”

He stared out into the night. “We finally agree.”

FORTY

Since Aunt Allegra had not responded
to her calls, Gentry had the taxi stop there before going on to her uncle’s. The patio community had immaculate upkeep, something her aunt would require. No uncut grass, no scraggly shrubs. She rang the bell and heard the chimes tone inside. If there was any chance of bringing her aunt to Uncle Rob’s homecoming, she had to try.

Allegra opened the door, surprise melting into a smooth smile. “Gentry.”

“Can I come in a minute?”

“Of course. Would you like some sun tea? The pitcher’s on the porch.”

“I have the taxi waiting.”

“Oh. Yes.” She glanced at the cab. “Is … something wrong?”

Could she seriously ask that when so much was wrong? Were they all masters of denial? “I’m sorry to barge in on you like this. I know we haven’t talked in too long.”

A gracious tilt of her head. “Our situation has been awkward for you.”

She didn’t say “You chose your allegiance,” but she might have. She motioned Gentry to sit and perched on a yellow chintz wing chair like an elegant and content matron. But Gentry always sensed something fragile behind her aunt’s poise, a molecular tension that might all fly apart if she lost her temper or said a cross word. They might all be better for it if she did.

“I don’t know if you got Mom’s message that Uncle Rob is coming home.”

She dropped her gaze and nodded.

“I wanted to tell you personally how much he’d appreciate it if you came for the celebration.”

“Celebration?” She looked stunned. “He’s … handicapped.”

Gentry smiled. “Have you ever known anything to handicap Uncle Rob?”

“But, isn’t he …”

“Lonely?” Way more direct than she’d ever been. “Yes. He misses you so much. He doesn’t want to burden you, but if you could just come and see him.”

“I’m sure he’d rather I didn’t.”

“How can you think that?”

“He wanted a new beginning, even before the accident.” She looked away, and her composure slipped a little. “I don’t want to start over. I can’t. Whatever you and he experienced—”

“He knows he didn’t handle that well. Aunt Allegra, he can live without his leg. He doesn’t want to live without you.”

Again emotion moved over her face. “He hasn’t said so.”

“He’s afraid you’ll be horrified.” In the vein of honesty she’d begun, she continued. “He knows how perfect you want things.”

“Me?” She looked as though that was something absurd.

“Anyway, I’m going there now. Will you come? Please?”

“Gentry, I …” The fissures in her composure widened. “It’s more complicated than that.”

“Just welcome him home. Wish him well.”
Please, Lord, soften her heart
. She sent a flurry of prayers that whatever was blinding her would be broken.

At last Aunt Allegra drew herself up. “All right. I’ll take my own car.”

She might change her mind and not go through with it, but Gentry smiled and stood. “Okay. Thanks.”

Rob sighed. The party had not been his idea. Julie and his brother were making a big deal of what was only the next step. Since he lived alone, he’d needed to demonstrate adequate stability and endurance. His strength had returned slowly, as Kauai had been fertile ground for systemic invasion.

Spiritual invasion as well—of the darkest and brightest kinds. Since his conversion, he’d filled his head with knowledge, but his heart had remained stubborn, his pride unshaken. He understood now why David had been chased into the desert, his life threatened, his dignity destroyed, his virtue questioned; deserted by his friends, hunted by his enemies. In that extremity he’d poured out his heart to God and learned God’s. Only then was he fit to govern in God’s name.

Rob turned and continued around the pool. The artificial leg, including knee unit and terminal device, was microcomputer controlled. It was a sign of healing that he’d not only learned to use it but had studied in depth its components and manufacture. Step by step he moved down the length of the tiled deck. Walking took ten to forty percent more energy with a below-the-knee amputation. An above-the-knee prosthesis, such as his, required sixty to a hundred percent more. Something could certainly be done to improve that.

A shadow spread across the tiles. He looked up, expecting Brendan, who hadn’t quite gotten around his hale, younger brother being a gimp. But it was Cameron Pierce who met him poolside. He hadn’t seen him since their visit weeks ago. They shook hands.

Cameron cocked his head. “No cane or anything?”

“Remarkable units they have these days. Might make some improvements before I take Gentry up another peak, though.” He glanced around. “Is she here?”

“She will be. I drove separately.”

“Gives us a chance to catch up.” He shifted his weight to the artificial limb. “Anything new on the attack?”

Cameron shrugged. “I’m out of the loop. Should’ve grilled Malakua myself when I had the chance, but he’d passed out and I was flying a jet.”

Rob cracked a smile. “Understandable. But I wish we had some answers.”

“Gentry’s convinced it’s over, that Malakua had a scheme that went wrong.”

“What do you think?”

“I hope she’s right.” His expression lacked certainty.

“So tell me the truth. Are you here in my honor, or to steal time with my niece?”

“Your honor, definitely.” Cameron had as good a deadpan as he’d seen. “And I’m not stealing. She deigns to entertain me.”

“Ah.” Rob nodded. “Then this is your lucky day.”

Gentry strode in through the gate, and he felt a surge of pride at the effect it had on the young man. There was a time he’d been that smitten. But he was learning to let go. Allegra’s silence these last two months had been as numbing as the deafening roar of the falls in the cave. It was time to stop lying to himself.

Gentry’s approach was as physical an experience as the rush of a monster wave building, the wobbly sensation in his stomach hardening into sheer anticipation. Last night’s conversations had left him winded. After Myra had gone, he’d called Nica and talked for hours. He’d told her everything, especially how he’d walked into the ocean and surrendered. Her tears had been a second salt bath.

“I’ve longed for you to know him, Kai.”

The strange thing was that he had, at once. As though he’d been away but not forgotten. It had enabled him to hear Myra without a bitter heart. He’d also told Nica about Gentry, and she’d cried some more, happy and sad and confused.

“I don’t want you hurt again.”

“It’s different now. And, Nica?
Ku‘u ka luhi.”
Be freed from cares. “ You can let go.”
They both could.

Gentry stopped, mouth agape, eyes aglow before her uncle. “You’re walking.” She hadn’t seen his transition from wheelchair to walker to cane. Cameron had only seen him twice, but it had given him points of reference. To her it must look miraculous, but to Rob it had been constant, hard work.

Her uncle’s eyes crinkled. “I’m not ready for Everest yet.”

She hugged him. “Neither am I.” Then she turned.

How long before he’d breathe normally under the sweep of her gaze? Other people had gathered around the pool, friends and neighbors, it seemed. No one looked shocked to see Gentry Fox, though more than one had a puppy-longing-for-a-pat expression. He probably did too.

She smiled. “Hi.” No physical contact, but so much could be communicated with two little letters.

“Hi.” The same back to her.

“Have you met my parents?”

He hadn’t.

“Then come on.” She inclined her head, listed over onto one foot, and glided toward the house. Did she think her uncle, or anyone there, missed the energy between them? But he let her take the lead with her family.

The woman rearranging chafing dishes on the buffet gave him a glimpse of Gentry thirty years from now. She’d never be anything but easy on the eyes if they happened to grow old together. The energy surged.

He’d gone into it artlessly with Myra and come out scarred. But as he’d stood calf deep in the surf, arms extended, face to the stars, he’d known at last that he wasn’t in this alone.

“Mom, this is Cameron.” Gentry turned with an enigmatic smile. “My mother, Julie.”

He extended his hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

She sandwiched it with both of hers. “You were a great help to Gentry—no matter what the papers say. She has a knack for finding good people.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re taller than you looked in the pictures.”

“That’s what happens when the camera’s aimed up from the ground through the bushes.”

She clicked her tongue. “Thank goodness that business is over.”

Right.

“What can I get you to drink?”

After accepting their icy cold glasses, Gentry handed him his and turned. “Here’s my dad, Brendan.”

Similar to Rob, without the robust physique, he had a slight slump to the shoulders, and a slack, bulging stomach that was more slack muscle than fat.

“This is Cameron Pierce, Dad.”

“Ah. Nice work out there, finding Rob and looking out for Gentry. Could have been tricky, but she’s got a lucky star.”

So lucky people defamed and tormented and tried to kill her. Had Mom and Pop tuned in lately?

Brendan glanced at his wife. “Remember the time she got lost at Mount Rushmore? Thought she’d march right up and have a closer look at those big chins and noses.”

“Colossal nostrils,” Gentry murmured.

Her mother nodded. “Uncle Rob decided the child was naturally inclined to mountain climbing.”

Her dad said, “And the time she and Rob had that close call with the lightning.”

“Truly enlightening,” Gentry breathed.

“Anyone else would have been toast. Not our girl. Lightning bolts out of nowhere. Not a cloud in the sky. Nothing but a foot-deep crevice to shelter in. And she’s unscathed. Now, that’s a lucky star.”

Cameron nodded. “A lot of people consider her just that.”

Brendan Fox laughed at the switch in context. “Exactly.” He squeezed Gentry’s shoulders.

She excused herself. “Cameron, let me show you Uncle Rob’s museum.”

Museum? He followed her into a room that did indeed resemble a museum; items on the walls with plaques describing them, tables with what looked like working models or prototypes in a wide variety of fields. The room didn’t come off as self-aggrandizing, more like an avid model-builder’s showcase or a collector’s collection. These were the cool things he’d made; wanna see how they worked?

“What do you think of my parents?”

“They’re … positive.”

She laughed so hard she snorted soda up her nose and made her eyes water.

Cameron handed over a napkin. “Must be where you get your optimistic attitude.”

She dabbed her eyes. “If you only knew.”

He held her glass while she blew her nose. “They think highly of you.”

She cleared her throat of the residual soda-snort effects. “Too highly.”