The Brushstroke Legacy (4 page)

“It’s not hard to find. You have the map and directions. I remember all those times going out there when I was little. Grandma had already passed away, but Uncle Einer still lived there. Mother had
good memories of growing up in Medora. Oh, the stories she would tell.”

“Shame she didn’t write them down.” Ragni barely remembered her grandmother, who had died when Ragni was a child.

“True. I know I have some of her letters here someplace. Oh, Ragni, how I wish I was going with you.”

Ragni could hear her father calling in the background. “Talk with you later, Mom. Give Dad a hug from me.”
How could life be so cruel as to give an active and wonderful man like my father Alzheimer’s?

“You be careful out there. I know there are poisonous snakes and…”

Ragni swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Bye, Mom.” Like she needed to hear about poisonous snakes at this juncture. Or snakes of any kind. The thought of snakes brought to mind Daren, the king of snakes.
Now, Ragni, don’t go down that track. You keep forgetting that you were the one who told him to take a hike.

Ragni shook her head.
Whose side are you on?
She didn’t need Erika to drive her nuts; she did well enough on her own.

Twenty minutes late she drove the car out of the parking garage, leaned against the front fender, and raised her face to catch some rays.
I could have slept longer. I could have had breakfast or at least made coffee.
She glanced up the street and saw her sister’s car turning toward her.
At last. But don’t say anything. You know that will only make it worse.

Susan parked behind her and swung her door open. “Sorry.”

“No problem.”

“Come on, Erika.” Susan opened the trunk and hauled out a duffel, the rolled sleeping bag, and another duffel and set them on the sidewalk.

“I said one duffel.”

“I know, but…” The light in Susan’s eyes made it clear Ragni shouldn’t go any further. That and her tight jaw. She handed the bags to Ragni. “God help you,” she muttered under her breath.

“That bad, eh?”

“She’s lucky she’s still alive.”

“All this stuff better be necessary.”
I should force her to repack.
Ragni stuffed the equipment in the backseat of her car. Now the rear-view mirror would be totally useless.

“Come on, Erika. Let’s hit the road.”
Come on, Ragni, lighten up. She doesn’t want to do this trip any more than you do. Give her a break.

The passenger-side door opened slowly, and the girl took her sweet time getting out. A black-clad leg with an untied black combat boot showed first, followed by its mate. At five-seven and pole thin, Erika radiated resentment like a fog. Straight, dyed-black hair swung forward to hide her face when she reached in the car for her stuffed backpack, her iPod in the other hand, earplugs already in place. She glared at her mother and slid into the passenger seat of Ragni’s car without a word.

“Good morning to you, too,” Ragni said, rolling her eyes at her sister.

Susan shook her head and leaned in to give her daughter a kiss. Erika turned away but couldn’t duck the pat on her shoulder.

“I’m sure you and Ragni are going to have a great time.” The
snort followed her when she pulled out of the car and shut the door. Susan rolled her eyes as she came around the car to give her younger sister a hug. “I’m sorry.”

“Quit saying that. It’s not you.” Ragni hugged her back. “We’ll be all right. Besides, it’s only two weeks. I can endure anything for two weeks.” She slid into the driver’s seat and slammed her door, locking her seat belt without a thought. Glancing over, she saw that Erika had not buckled her seat belt. “Buckle up, sweetie.”

If looks could do damage, my hair must be sizzling.
But the girl did as asked, in motions slow enough to lose a snail race.

Ragni let out a sigh, rolled down the window, and smiled at her sister. Already a smile was taking more effort than she could afford.

“See ya.” She glanced over at her passenger. Erika’s arms were locked across her chest, tighter than her seat belt.
Whoa boy, what fun we’re going to have. And to think I could have been at the lake. Alone!

“Where do you want to stop for breakfast?”

No answer.

Ragni glanced over at her passenger. Erika slumped in the seat, eyes closed. Had she fallen asleep already? No, one finger tapped out the rhythm of whatever music she was listening to.

Ragni reached over and patted Erika on the knee. “I asked you where you want to stop for breakfast.”

Erika removed one earplug.

“I asked you where you want to eat?”

“You don’t have to shout. I’m not hard of hearing.” Erika rolled her eyes. “Not like some people I know.”

Down girl. Take a deep breath.
Ragni obeyed her inner prompting. “Okay, let’s get something straight here. When I touch you, that means I have something to say and you will remove an earphone to listen, all right?” Ragni spoke carefully because if she didn’t, she might say more than was necessary at this point. “Oh, and I expect an answer.”

Did a grunt suffice as an answer?

“Let’s start again. I have not had breakfast, and I am hungry. I’m offering you the choice of where we stop. So decide.”

“McDonald’s.”

“Fine.”
At least some things haven’t changed.

“I want an espresso to go with my breakfast.”

“Oh, really? Since when does your mother allow you to drink coffee?” Ragni glanced at her niece only to get another rolled eyes look and a shake of the head.
Okay, this time we’ll let this pass. I need the biggest size I can get with a triple shot.

She might as well have been driving by herself. Shortly after they ate, Erika fell asleep, her head tilting to the side and gentle snorts puffing her lips. Ragni thought of reaching over and turning off the iPod that had slipped from the girl’s relaxed fingers. Surely she didn’t need that noise in her ears all the time—not if she wanted to have any hearing left by the time she reached thirty.

As the car ate up the miles, Ragni’s mind wandered to her work.
Who messed around with the Byers ad? Has it happened before and not been caught? I thought I could trust my team with my life. What can I do to figure out who did it
—
and why?
When those thoughts hit nothing but a dead end, her mind veered off on another tangent. When she recognized Daren on the movie playing in her thoughts, she stuffed those memories in an ironclad box and buried it—again. A fire to cleanse all the hurt might have been nice.

Then there was her weight. Even though she’d lost five pounds last week at the spa, she still had thirty to go. Just the thought of dieting made her want to dive for the snack sack. But it was too far back to reach without stopping the car, a good move on her part. She finished the last of her coffee-gone-cold.

They say it takes twenty-one days to establish a new habit.
If only I could have stayed at the spa twenty-one days.
But then eating healthy
was far easier with someone else to do the cooking, and workouts were more fun with a trainer and gardens and celebrity-style pools. Anyway, three weeks at the Golden Dreams Spa would have broken her bank account.

“You just have to do it yourself.” She repeated the positive affirmation she had written to help her succeed. “I am slim, supple, and strong. I love to eat right and stretch my building muscles every day.”

She was not an abject, absolute failure. The life coach had truly helped her.
But I was counting on the two weeks at the lake to help me use the things I learned. So I’ll just have to do them in North Dakota. Look on the positive side. Cleaning that house will be a form of exercise. Why, I’ll even chop wood for the fire. Nuts! I didn’t bring an ax.

“If life hands you lemons, make lemonade” had been one of the many signs on the walls at the spa.
Great, but lemonade takes sugar, and that’s not on my diet.

She glanced over at her passenger.
Shouldn’t it be Erika’s job to keep the driver awake? Or at least to keep the driver from thinking too much?

After a quick stop at a drive-through, at which point Erika ordered a fair amount for not seeming to care whether she ate or not, Ragni’s thoughts took off again without her permission.
Erika and I going to the beach, the zoo, movies, the Museum of Natural History. Tiptoeing through the Egyptian exhibit, whispering as if talking aloud might wake spirits from the tombs. Eating kettle corn, slightly sweet and salty. Drawing and painting together.
They’d started with finger paints when Erika was a toddler—covered reams of paper with fat markers—and
progressed through tempera to acrylics and watercolors, graduating to the myriad colors of pencils and pastels.

What had ruptured that bond?
The day Erika donned the black of goth, she’d acted like she didn’t know who Ragni was and didn’t care.
Had there been warning signs? Did I do something that set her off
? Ragni knew Susan had the same questions. So many times they’d hashed them over and never come up with any answers. Other than the hope that this was only a phase and if they ignored it, perhaps it would go away.

Perhaps
was right. It had been two years now. In August, Erika would turn fifteen. Ragni again thought back to their art years. Why, she’d not even brought a sketchpad along, let alone paints or colored pencils.
How dumb.
But then how long had it been since she’d had the energy or desire to do any kind of art? Alone or with Erika?

I used to think I was an artist. I used to think Erika would be an artist. I used to live to create.
Her mother had told her she got her talent from her great-grandmother Ragnilda. Was there even the slimmest possibility that on this trip she might find out something about the woman that would bring her own artistic desires back?

West of Fargo, Ragni needed a break from her thoughts and Erika’s silence. She pulled over at a rest area. “I’m going to walk around,” she said, but Erika didn’t reply. At this point, Ragni was not surprised.

With the June air warm on her face, Ragni watched the wind rustle the leaves of the trees that shaded the walking area—the contrast between the leafy green and the intense blue of the sky made her breath catch. The fragrance of freshly cut grass reminded her of the backyard of the house she and Susan had grown up in. They used to spend summer afternoons lying on the lush carpet, looking for cloud
critters. Never had Ragni dreamed she’d one day be living in an apartment building on the third floor.

But you can change that
, she reminded herself as she strode back to the car.
If you want a house with yard and flowers, grass to mow, and real neighbors, all you have to do is go find one. You don’t need a man to buy a house. Lord, will I ever get to that place?
When she arrived at the car, she found the car doors locked and Erika gone.

Ragni glanced toward the women’s rest room and leaned her backside against the car to people-watch and wait.
What’s she doing in there
—
taking a bath?
Just as she leaned forward to go check, Erika ambled around the corner of the building, dark sunglasses matching the rest of her attire.
Tie your shoelaces before you fall and break a leg.
She refrained from sounding like her mother by swallowing the words that leaped to her lips.

“You got the keys?”

Erika shook her head.

“But you locked the car.”

“You should never leave the car unlocked.”

Ragni closed her eyes. Both keys and purse were still in the car.
Don’t say it. You should have taken them with you.

“Don’t you keep a spare somewhere?”

“Yeah, in my wallet.” Pounding the car roof would do no good. “Along with the Triple A phone number.”

“You don’t have to yell at me. Wasn’t my fault.” A touch of whine made Ragni shudder.

“I’m not yelling!”
I am speaking through gritted teeth. It’s hard to yell through gritted teeth. Why did I leave my purse in the car? I never leave my purse in the car.
She crammed her fists into her back pockets
to keep from slamming them on the car, warning herself that swearing wouldn’t help either, no matter how viciously the words burned her tongue. She glanced around, searching for possible help.

“If we can get a hanger, I can open the door.”

Ragni jerked her attention back to the girl standing on the other side of the car. “Where did you learn how to break into cars? What kind of people are you hanging out with?”

“Mom had to do it once. I helped. I’ll go ask those people with the motor home.” Erika strode across the parking lot, leaving Ragni with her mouth hanging open.

Sometime later she slid back into her seat, glanced over at Erika, and shook her head. “Thanks.”

Her earphones back in place, Erika didn’t bother answering. A few miles later, Ragni popped in an audio book,
The Secret Life of Bees.
Next time she looked over, Erika had her earphones around her neck and was listening to the book.
Could this be construed as a breakthrough?

The sun was easing toward the western horizon when they drove past Dickinson. The road sign said Theodore Roosevelt National Park and Medora thirty-five miles ahead. Ragni exhaled a sigh of relief. They’d made it before dark.

“Watch for the exit signs to Medora, would you please?” She glanced over to see if Erika heard her. The slight nod surprised her.

“I read that people can sometimes see the wild horse herd in the park from the freeway, and the buffalo.”

“Wild horses?” Erika sat up straighter. “How will we know when we are at the park?”

Ragni wriggled driving tension out of her shoulders as she answered. “It must be fenced. They wouldn’t let animals like that wander loose. I mean, I’ve seen fences for pastures. These must be better.”

“Are there really buffalo?”

“That’s what the magazine said. We can ask at the hotel. Maybe we can make a trip through the park while we’re here. The Badlands are supposedly beautiful—strange shapes, lots of wild animals.”

Erika shrugged, her universal response to all suggestions, it seemed.

Ragni blinked to refresh her eyes and rolled her shoulders again.
I’m so tired of shrugs.
Eleven hours since they left Chicago. She’d never driven so far in one day in her life. Not that she’d been on many road trips since the family vacations of her youth, and back then her father drove. There was a big difference between driving and riding. Often she’d been reading, at least when she wasn’t fighting with Susan over who had her foot on the wrong side of the car and whose turn it was on the Etch A Sketch. Strange that they’d made no trips west. They’d been to Florida for Disney World; Washington DC for the history, government, and museums; Niagara Falls; and lots of camping trips along the shores of the Great Lakes and into northern Minnesota. Someday she’d get to Yellowstone.