Return to the Shadows (2 page)

“I can’t sleep.” Her Cupid’s bow mouth pouted
and she gazed at me with liquid blue eyes fringed in jet-black
lashes.

“I see. Well, why don’t you sit here on this
couch with me for a while and tell me your troubles?”

“Okay. I guess I could do that.”

“Did you have that dream again?”

“No.”

“Are you hungry?” I tried, grasping at
straws. When Ashley was in a mood, it was usually a long and
cumbersome process to get her to open up.

“Can I have a cookie?” She looked almost
hopeful.

“No, you can’t have a cookie at ten-thirty at
night. Sorry, baby, no deal.”

“Then I’m not hungry.” There was steel in her
little voice and a defiant tilt to her chin. She was scared, I
realized as I studied her defensive posture.

“You can have a banana, if you’d like,” I
offered.

“Can I have ice cream instead?”

“Now if I wouldn’t let you have a cookie, why
on earth would I say yes to ice cream?” I sighed.

“Fine. I’ll have the banana,” she relented,
climbing down from my lap to follow me to the kitchen.

“Do you want a glass of milk with this?” I
sliced the banana in half lengthwise, just the way she liked it,
and handed her the plastic Kermit the Frog plate that was her
favorite.

“Sure.” Her thin shoulders rose in a shrug as
she slowly munched on the fruit.

“You know you can talk to me about
anything.”

“I know.”

“I just need to remind you of that sometimes.
You’re pretty special to me, just so you know.” I smiled and
fluffed her dark hair.

“I love you too, Mama.”

“I’ll never let anything happen to you. I can
promise you that. I’ll always keep you safe and sound.”

“Because you carry a gun in your purse.” She
nodded. “I know, Mom.”

“Ah, well, that too, but—hey, wait—I do not
carry my gun in my purse. I keep it in the—” I stopped the awkward
tirade, abruptly realizing what I had been about to say. Ashley had
paused in eating her snack and was staring at me with blatant
curiosity.

“Never you mind where I keep it. Anyway,
that’s not what I meant,” I quickly explained before she could ask
any questions. “I meant that because I’m your mom, I will always
love and protect you and keep you safe. So you don’t have to be
afraid at night.”

“Sometimes I get bad dreams at night. Scary
dreams,” she confessed in a quiet tone. It was obvious to see what
it cost the child to speak the words out loud, and the knowledge
tore at my heart.

“Do you want to tell me about the one you had
tonight?” I struggled to keep my voice level.

“No.” She shook her head emphatically and bit
down on a section of banana.

“Are you sure? Sometimes it helps to talk
about these things.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay. That’s okay, honey. You don’t have to
talk about anything you don’t feel comfortable talking about. Do
you want to sleep in my room for the rest of the night?” I offered
as casually as I could manage.

She nodded.

“Come on, then. We’d better get some sleep.
You have school tomorrow and I have work.”

***

The morning dawned clear and bright. Ashley
and I went through our usual morning routine with a chipper
efficiency that belied our mostly sleepless night. A quick
breakfast of cold cereal, a cup of juice for her, a mug of strong
coffee for me, and we were out the door en route to start our
respective days. I was smiling as I walked through the heavy lead
glass doors of LanTech Corp after depositing Ashley at school. If I
had my way, our routine would be changing soon.

I’d been keeping a secret from my family for
weeks, and for the time being, it would stay that way.

The big news? I was expecting to get a call
from the human resource department of
Plant and Herb
. The
widely circulated magazine was looking for a new columnist with my
background and qualifications. My first interview had taken place
two weeks ago, followed by a lengthy second interview a short three
days later. By all appearances, it looked like the job would be
mine if I still wanted it. I smothered a grin.

There was no way I wouldn’t jump at the
chance to work for
Plant and Herb
. It was a tremendous
opportunity; only a complete idiot would pass on it, and I’d always
prided myself on my common sense.

The hours were the biggest selling point. My
position would be salaried with an independent contractor’s
flexible hours. It would allow me to stay home with Ashley about
three days a week, plus weekends. What could possibly be better
than a two day work week? How about a pay raise?
Plant and
Herb
was talking about a full twenty percent pay increase from
my current position at LanTech. To my way of thinking, it would be
a win-win situation. I had been thinking about making some changes
for the better part of the past year. Ashley was a huge motivating
factor in my decision to re-prioritize and restructure my life.

Mike and I had returned from Terlain with her
a year ago. Since then a lot had changed for me.

Ashley and I had fought hard to overcome a
ton of obstacles in order to have the lives we had today. The first
in our year-long string of battles came in the form of her legal
adoption. Even though I went into the adoption process knowing full
well that it wouldn’t be easy, I was unprepared for the turmoil
that ensued.

Adoption is a difficult process under the
best of circumstances; it’s nearly impossible when the child has no
identification. No birth certificate, no social security number, no
finger or foot print on file anywhere. The fact that I was a single
woman who worked a full-time job did not reassure the state that I
was the best possible caregiver for Ashley.

Those first weeks were the hardest to bear.
Child and family services placed Ashley in a foster home while the
police made every effort to find the family of the little girl my
brother and I “found” while on vacation. Ashley, Mike, and I were
interviewed repeatedly during that time. Our answers were
consistent, and Ashley, bless her, would only tell the police that
her parents had died a long time ago, and that I had found her
wandering near the woods.

For the most part, what Ashley had said was
true. Her parents were dead and I had found her in the woods. After
that, things became a bit more complicated. At any rate, Ashley
didn’t have to spend much time in the temporary home before a judge
ordered her returned to my custody. There were regular home visits
and more questions and interviews, but finally, eight months later,
the adoption was officially finalized.

Of course, we had settled into a routine long
before the final paper was signed, stamped, and sealed.

Still, having that piece of paper was a
weight off my shoulders. Mike and I felt bad about having to lie to
the rest of the family about Ashley’s background, even though we
both understood it was completely necessary to do so. We consoled
ourselves with the knowledge that our lie had little to do with
Ashley herself. She was a beautiful, healthy, intelligent, and
lovable little girl, no matter where she may have come from.

Now, finally, she was a little girl with a
big, loving family. My parents had accepted her unconditionally
from the start. Both of them had proven to be wonderful
grandparents. They spent a lot of time with Ashley, and much of
that time was spent doting on the girl. They weren’t just willing
to spend time with their new grandchild. They relished the chance
to spend time with her. Their devotion to my daughter never failed
to bring tears to my eyes. Since the day I’d brought her home, they
had instantly taken to her and her to them. Not a single week had
gone by in the past year where my parents had not visited Ashley or
at least called her on the phone.

My brother was another regular visitor in our
home and an important figure in Ashley’s life. Ashley absolutely
adored her uncle Mike. The feeling was definitely mutual. He was
fiercely protective of her, often reminding the rest of us of a
mother hen.

Megan had bonded with Ashley on a level that,
while personal, was not quite to the depth of our parents and Mike.
The two were close, but unfortunately were unable to spend much
time together. Ashley spent maybe one day each month with her Aunt
Megan, though to be fair, Megan’s work schedule was the polar
opposite of Ashley’s school schedule. That too was about to
change.

My sister had remarried six months ago; their
first child was due in October, only a few short months away. To
the family’s collective relief, Megan’s obstetrician had ordered
her to take her maternity leave of absence now. There was no
immediate threat to Megan or the baby. In fact, Megan had sailed
through the bulk of her pregnancy with ease. She hadn’t suffered
the fatigue or the nausea that seemed to plague so many pregnant
women. In Megan’s case, that was actually the problem. She hadn’t
experienced any of the body’s typical responses telling her to slow
her daily pace, so she hadn’t. With her son’s birth looming closer,
she was starting to swell through her legs, and the doctor—not to
mention the rest of us—was becoming increasingly concerned.

Today would be Megan’s last day at work for
the next six to eight months. While she was less than thrilled with
the prospect, her husband Juan was immensely relieved, and I was
ecstatic. We would finally have the time to get some serious baby
shopping done, plus the nursery still needed to be decorated. I
could hardly wait for my nephew to be born. I imagined all of the
fun we would have together, Ashley and little Aaron and me. Best of
all, if I’d managed to snag the
Plant and Herb
job, I would
be able to split babysitting duties with my parents. I absolutely
loved babies, and there was no question that Ashley would benefit
from having another child around.

She was very well behaved both at home and at
school, but she tended to keep to herself. A lot of the time she
seemed unsure how to act around other children, and large groups of
children or adults seemed to overwhelm her. As much as it broke my
heart to see her struggle with anything, I had to remind myself
that things could have been much worse. I may not have known much
about what her life had been like before Mike and I found her, but
I knew a little about how harsh life could be in Terlain. And life
for an orphan in Terlain? I shuddered. The reality was grim at
best. It was a miracle that the child had not suffered more trauma
than she had. Hell, the fact that she was alive was a miracle. I
had a lot to be thankful for, I realized. I had a great family, a
beautiful daughter who was healing a little each day, a nice house,
and a good job. So what if there was one thing that would always be
missing?

***

Dinner was usually a casual affair at our
house, at least during the week. Soup and sandwiches, TV dinners,
grilled meat and frozen vegetables were the typical fare. But every
Friday we ate out or ordered in. Tonight was no exception. Ashley
had opted to go to McDonald’s for a Happy Meal and an hour in the
play area.

I sipped on a Styrofoam cup of hot mocha
coffee while I watched her navigate colorful slides, ropes,
tunnels...and one serious ball pit. I tried not to cringe, finally
having to look away. I hated the things.

Don’t get me wrong, they did look like a lot
of fun, even to a grown up like myself. It must have looked like
the Taj Mahal of the playground to a little kid like Ashley. But,
to me at least, it also looked like a gigantic germ pool, hepatitis
and meningitis and tetanus co-mingling in sickening harmony. But it
was important to Ashley, so I sighed and packed the hand sanitizer,
vowing to keep my phobias to myself. Such is the life of a
parent.

After dinner, playtime, and a hot bubble
bath, we went through the motions of our bedtime routine.

We read a story, talked about what the coming
day would bring, and Ashley settled into her own bed for the night.
Whether she would stay there for the duration or if the dreams
would plague her sleep always remained to be seen. I honestly
didn’t mind; the nightmares were becoming less frequent with each
passing month.

I was locking the front door and setting the
alarm like I always did each evening when a movement outside caught
my eye. I did a double-take, peering out through the living room
window to the darkness beyond. Whatever had been out there was
gone, I realized after a moment. A faint chill washed over me. It
wasn’t the first time it had happened since our return from
Terlain. And like the other times, I shrugged it off and went to
bed.

Chapter Two

Windfall

Three days later, the job was mine. I could
hardly believe my good fortune. I would be writing a two-page
spread for the monthly issues of
Plant and Herb
to start.
The hours were flexible and the pay was obscene. What more could
anyone possibly ask for? I would finally have more time to spend
with Ashley, and I wouldn’t have to work so hard all of the time.
Or in such a creepy environment, I added silently. Even though it
made sense for laboratories to be located on the lower levels of
buildings that housed them, working in a basement was still a
gloomy existence.

The scene in the lab played through my mind
again, and I wrapped the ends of my sweater around my waist and
shook my head. I was beginning to get jumpy again, which was
ridiculous. There was absolutely no reason to worry. John was
serving a lengthy prison sentence, and our lives had been quiet and
mostly uneventful for an entire year. Unheard of for the Roberts, I
knew, but there it was. There was only one logical explanation for
the way I was feeling now. I was becoming paranoid.

And who knew? Maybe a little case of the
nerves now and then was normal after what I had been through, after
seeing and hearing things that most people only dreamed of—both
fantasy and nightmare.