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“All right, my dear,” Flora said. “First things first. We must go over what Brody likes to eat.” She handed Kara a notepad. “I took the liberty of getting you a notebook.”
Over the next few hours, Flora covered recipes and shopping requirements with more precision than a college course in microbiology. The list consisted of lean proteins, avocados, various whole grains. “Absolutely nothing processed. Don’t get potato chips or anything like that when you shop because he can’t resist them.” Kara wrote dutifully into the notebook, although it was all for show. She was a nurse. An understanding of nutrition was second nature. After Flora finished her list of proper foods, she gave Kara a tour of the kitchen.
This went here, that went there, never let the refrigerator get that film of goop. They ended the course on Feeding Brody by making a lasagna.
“Just the way Brody likes it,” Flora said.
Three kinds of cheese. Spinach in the sauce for extra vitamins. Wheat noodles cooked al dente.
Kara had managed the entire afternoon without an eye roll—a feat of epic proportions.
After they had the lasagna in the oven, Flora accepted Kara’s offer to clean the kitchen so that she could enjoy a cup of tea.
As she settled into the nook, Flora wrapped her hands around the tea mug and let out a sigh. “I’ve washed more dishes for this family than I care to count.”
Kara smiled. “Brody doesn’t want you washing any more dishes.”
“He doesn’t understand that it’s nearly impossible to veer away from forty years of routine.”
“Change is hard.” Kara sprayed a greasy pan with hot water. Droplets fell on the black granite countertops. Her father’s house had granite throughout the bathrooms, kitchen, and bar. Only the best. Drug money. “I left behind a whole life when I moved out here, so I understand.”
Flora’s penetrating gaze never left her face. “The question is why. There’s more to it than a bad love affair, isn’t there? Women like you don’t leave town because of a man.”
“Well, I did. It’s as simple as that,” Kara said.
“I don’t think so.”
Kara scrubbed the bottom of a saucepan with extra vigor. What had the marshal advised if people pushed about your past? Stick with your story.
“I worked with him, and it was too hard to see him every day after all that had happened between us,” Kara said. “I chose to leave and start fresh.”
Flora didn’t push further, perhaps sensing that she would get nowhere.
“Running away is sometimes the only choice,” Flora said. “I ran away from my life when I was sixteen years old. I never looked back.”
Kara put the last of the dishes on the drying rack and sat across from Flora in the breakfast booth. “Why?”
Flora pushed a lock of hair behind one ear. “I grew up in a little town on the Oregon coast called Legley Bay. It was provincial, especially back then in the sixties and seventies. When I was in high school, I got pregnant. The father was a young man I’d been in love with my whole life. Dax Rice.”
Flora’s voice quieted as she continued. “He was the most mesmerizing person I’d ever met. Still is, and it’s been forty-five years since I last saw his face. My parents hated him and tried to keep us apart.”
“Why?”
“He was poor, and we were not. We were upstanding church members, and his single mother worked at a tavern. We managed to sneak around anyway, and one thing led to another. When I told my parents I was pregnant, they sent me to a place run by nuns. I was to remain there for the remainder of my pregnancy and once the baby was born, put it up for adoption. After everything was neatly put away, I was supposed to come back to my life like nothing had happened.” Flora paused for a moment as she sipped from her teacup. “I don’t like to talk about it.”
Why was she telling the story? Kara had a feeling it was leading up to something.
“I didn’t get a chance to tell Dax where I was going, or that I was pregnant. They just whisked me away in the middle of the night. They told everyone in town that I went to take care of a sick relative. I’m not exaggerating that I was a prisoner. The nuns wouldn’t even let me send Dax a letter. Right around my due date, I went into labor and gave birth to a healthy baby boy. They didn’t let me hold him.” Flora’s voice vibrated with emotion, but she continued. “After they delivered him, I started hemorrhaging. They had to do a full hysterectomy to stop the bleeding, which, obviously, destroyed any possibility of having another baby.”
Flora turned a spoon around and around in the teacup. “My parents came to get me and took me home a few weeks later. The minute my parents fell asleep, I snuck out my window and ran all the way out to Dax’s house. All I wanted was to tell him what had happened. And, to see him. I was so terribly desperate to see him.”
Kara realized she was holding her breath. “But he wasn’t there.”
“No, he wasn’t. The house had burned to the ground. I panicked. Had he been inside? Had Betty, his mother? But no, thank God. My father and some of his cronies had run them out of town. Burned the house first, so they’d have no place to live, and then threatened physical harm if they didn’t leave immediately.”
“And you never saw him again?” Kara asked.
“No. I took all the cash from the shoebox my father kept in his office and all the clothes I could fit into my suitcase, and then walked to the bus stop. I bought a one-way ticket to Los Angeles.”
“Did your parents try to find you?”
“If they did, I never knew. When I applied for work, I used a new name. I was now Flora Smith. It was easier to disappear in those days.”
“Eventually, I started working with the Mullens. Mrs. Mullen was pregnant with Brody then, and she needed a nanny willing to live in and take care of the house and the baby.” She stared into her tea cup like there were answers in the tea leaves. “I wasn’t sure about the job—about caring for a baby. The thought of the little boy I’d had to give away haunted me. There hasn’t been a day since that I haven’t thought about him. But, my pragmatic nature took over, and I took the job anyway. It was a chance for me to escape poverty. I’ve always been a good judge of character, and I knew the Mullens were good people. When Brody was born, and I held him for the first time, I realized that God had sent me there for a reason. Caring for this sweet baby was part of my healing. Lance came two years later and added to my joy. Mrs. Mullen worked a lot back then, but between the two of us, we raised them to be wonderful men. Not that there weren’t some moments when Brody was a teenager that we both wanted to tear our hair out, but I’ll save those stories for some other time.” She chuckled and shook her head in obvious amusement. “The boys have been like my own children. Mrs. Mullen was never the type to be jealous. She often said when the three of us were sitting in the bleachers at one of Brody’s games that ‘no kid ever suffered from too many people loving them.’ ” Flora shifted her gaze to the window. “But with this diagnosis, I’ve started thinking about Dax. Why haven’t I tried to find him? Why did I walk away from love? And, of course, about my little boy. Where is he? What kind of life did he have? Did he ever search for me?” Flora looked back to Kara. “I’ve been too ashamed to tell anyone about what I did. It’s been my secret for forty-four years.”
“Why now?”
“Because I’m afraid I might die without knowing the answers,” Flora said. “But that’s why it has to be you. I don’t want the Mullens to know anything about this.”
It was Kara’s turn to look out the window. The weather outside was damp and gray, but the roar of waves never ceased. Ebb and flow. Cycles of life. Seasons.
“You know, I’ve never loved another man besides Dax,” Flora said. “It was safer that way. If I never allowed anyone in, I wouldn’t have to lose them.”
“Do you still feel that way?” Kara asked.
“No. I see now that I should’ve been open to another love. It was only cowardice that kept me from trying. Don’t ever let your fears win, Kara. Because when you’re suddenly an old lady, and you realize your life is mostly finished, you’ll think of all the things you didn’t do because you were afraid. The awful truth will be impossible to avoid: the biggest threat to our happiness is the fear itself. Our fear is the boogeyman in the closet.”
Kara swallowed the lump in the back of her throat. The boogeyman in her closet had been real. The monster in the closet was her own father.
“I want to find them. Dax and my little boy. I just want to know what happened to them—if they’ve had a good life. But I don’t know where to start.”
“We could hire a private detective,” Kara said.
“Maybe one that specializes in adoptions?”
“Yes, I’m sure there are agencies like that. But, are you truly prepared for answers?”
“I have to know,” Flora said. “Even if it breaks my heart all over again.”
“It’s better to know the truth, even if it hurts,” Kara said. A seagull perched on the railing outside and stared at them with one accusing eye.
At first, when the officers had asked her questions about what she knew about her father, she had said nothing. But as the months wore on, memories surfaced. Without context, they had seemed benign: phone calls in the middle of the night, weeks where her father disappeared without notice, strange visitors to her father’s study. Clues she did not see, but were there just the same.
Flora reached across the table and squeezed Kara’s wrist. “My first few years in L.A., I grieved for the life I thought I would have. I missed Dax. I missed my baby. I even missed my parents, despite their betrayal. But I got through it. You will too.”
“I hope so.” Kara forced a smile.
“Mrs. Mullen’s grieving her old life.”
“Brody says she’s depressed.”
“She is. I thought she’d be better by now, but between the loss of her husband and her work, it was too much change. She needs a new purpose.”
“Like a job?” Kara asked.
“Maybe. Or, a new love. I don’t want her to make the same mistake I did. I don’t want her to waste an opportunity if a nice man comes along. Which he has.” The seagull looked at them with one eye. Flora tapped the glass window. He didn’t budge.
“He has?”
“Yes. Doctor Waller. You haven’t met him yet, but he’s quite attractive and extremely smart. He likes her.”
“How do you know?”
“Because of the number of house calls he’s made here since she broke her leg.”
“That’s a good indication.” Kara smiled. “I didn’t even know doctors made house calls any longer.” Outside, the seagull flew away.
“I’ll spend some time this afternoon making some inquiries into detective agencies.” Kara’s curiosity was piqued. She couldn’t wait to see what they could find.
“Good. Now that we’ve got our plan, let me teach you how to make the perfect salad.”