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SEPTEMBER PUSHED AWAY from the dinner table, stacked empty plates and ferried them to the kitchen. Shadow tried to follow, but she gave him the palm-flat wait command, so he settled again under the table with an aggrieved whine. Mom barely tolerated his presence anywhere in the house. The kitchen was forbidden.
Muted conversation and occasional laughs traveled from the television room where the rest of the family gathered after the meal. She’d stayed behind to clear the dishes, wanting some alone time with Mom.
The last hour’s stilted conversation and too careful small talk made September’s jaw ache from its forced smile. Dad, Mark, and her sisters’ families would pretend to enjoy family time for another twenty minutes, thirty at the most, before giving up the pretense and hitting the road.
“Go on, September, just set those down. Dishes can wait.” Mom followed her into the large modern kitchen, stacking the last of the dinnerware on the butcher block island. She bustled here and there, unable to stay still. Her hands constantly smoothed her hair, or adjusted items on the counters, anything to avoid eye contact. The decorative stone mortar and pestle, rarely used, still held the yummy guacamole dip Mom made for every holiday gathering, but she lugged it to the sink to clean. “Wasn’t this nice, the whole family together? Who knows when we’ll have the chance again...” Her cheery tone contrasted with tear-polished blue eyes. She turned away to dab a linen handkerchief under her eyes, catching moisture before it ruined her makeup. As always, Rose January’s perfectly coiffed hair and couture wardrobe could have stepped from the pages of a fashion magazine.
“Mom, I know you’re disappointed and scared for April. So am I.” She caught the woman’s delicate shoulder and turned her around. “I could have told her months ago, if she’d said anything. You and Dad got tested, too?”
“Of course!” Rose looked away to the left, and fiddled with her wedding ring.
“Maybe I can help, now, to find another donor. It’s not like I’m the last resort or anything.” She forced another smile. “People manage for years on dialysis. Right? Don’t they? Mom...”
Rose still wouldn’t meet her eyes, but didn’t pull away.
September stood a half a foot taller than her mother. Her three sisters took after Rose—blond hair, blue eyes, petite stature, and delicate features. But she and Mark had inherited Dad’s tall, lanky frame, strong features, and dark hair. September tightened her lips, recognizing Mom’s evasive expression. “There’s something more. What else haven’t you told me?”
Mom pulled away. “In the next few months, April testifies at that Baumgarten person’s trial.” Mom’s voice soured on the name of the woman responsible for April’s injury, and the death of so many others.
September knit her brow. What did Lizzie Baumgarten’s trial for the Blizzard Murders have to do with anything? She’d happily testify, too. “I heard they petitioned to move up the court date.”
Mom nodded. “For April’s benefit. Just in case she’s not well enough later, or...” She hiccupped a sobbed breath before she tamped down her emotions enough to continue. “April’s been in and out of the hospital ever since. The treatments saved her life, but it damaged her kidneys. She’s been on dialysis for nearly a year.”
“What?” September fanned herself with a napkin, suddenly flushed and overheated. “Why am I only hearing this now?”
“She swore us to secrecy, didn’t want you to blame yourself. And she convinced herself she’d get better.” She shrugged. “You know April.”
Yes, September knew April: so stubborn, so private, so secretive, and so very much like their mother. There’d been hints of her illness, of course, but September had been wrapped up in her own problems. “What about Doug?” April’s husband didn’t care for September, but at least he had more sense.
“Doug finally convinced April to reach out to family.” She hesitated, then added, “Lysle wanted to tell you, too.”
“Then why didn’t Dad say something?”
“I wouldn’t let him.” She jutted out her chin, as if daring September to challenge Rose-Almighty’s decision.
September fought to keep her tone civil. “I may struggle to be emotionally present but I’m still part of this family. I do care what happens.” At her tone, Shadow padded to the kitchen doorway and peered inside.
Rose rounded on her, fierce with intensity. “But you were hurt, too. In the hospital after that awful man kidnapped you. Then you nearly drowned during the tornadoes.” She swiped impatiently at her brimming eyes, smearing her makeup. “One crisis after another. Every time the phone rings, I’m scared you finally got yourself killed. Do you have a death wish, September?”
Her mouth fell open. “Mom, I didn’t mean...” September couldn’t remember Mom ever losing control. Not when Steven went missing. Not when April got shot. Shadow whined, and put one paw into the kitchen, then ignored previous commands and hurried to her side. She welcomed his warmth when he leaned against her thigh.
“I’m your mother. It’s my job to protect all my children.” Mom gulped, pacing from the sink to the kitchen island and back again, no longer stifling sobs. “I made horrible mistakes in the past. It’s not fair for my children to pay for my sins.”
“What are you talking about?” September braced herself against the counter. An eruption this intense, from a woman so stoic, had to be a release of years-long pain.
But Mom’s words spilled over top of each other. “I prayed Lysle would be a donor match, or one of your sisters, or even Mark. Anyone but you, September.”
The words stabbed because they confirmed September’s exclusion. Mom didn’t even consider her part of the family.
“Don’t you see? All your pain, all your suffering. It’s my fault.” She grabbed September and hugged her close, as if she couldn’t bear to see her face. The words rushed out even faster. “You were my brilliant, gifted little girl and I gave you away to a monster.” Mom’s grip on her neck nearly choked September. “I didn’t think I had a choice, but I should have found a way. I understand why you stayed away, why you hide behind police friends and that dog of yours.”
September jerked out of the embrace, shaking her head. She didn’t hide, not anymore. Combs was more than that. And Shadow was her heart. She dropped one hand to his black fur, the contact countering sudden light-headedness. She’d overcome the abuse. With Shadow’s help and the support of friends, she now had a future, and had broken the chains of the past.
“Forgive me?” Ruined makeup turned Rose’s face into a tragic clown. “You don’t know how much I want to remake the past.”
September couldn’t remember Mom ever accepting blame for anything. She struggled how to respond. Dirty water under the bridge. Besides, Victor no longer had any power to hurt, not from jail.
“I get that you wanted to protect me, Mom, but we can’t change the past. This is now, today. I’m strong, I’m healthy again, and I make my own decisions. You should have told me about April.” September couldn’t mask her exasperation. She’d almost prefer Mom’s steely control than to have to deal with this unfathomable brokenness. “I don’t blame you, Mom.” If she said it with enough conviction, maybe she’d convince herself, too, and forgive both her parents for handing her over to Victor.
“I didn’t have a choice. But I should have known.” The anguished words broke September’s heart.
“Should have known what?”
Mom covered her mouth with both hands and ran from the room. Her stylish shoes clattered up the distant front stairs, headed to the master bedroom.
Shadow whined and nose-poked September’s shaking hand. “Shadow? What just happened?”
September waited for a long moment, sighed, and found her coat. She had to pack and pick up Macy. To have any chance for a happy future, she must face the secrets Chris left behind in South Bend.
