“Hi, Ms. Kelly, it’s me again. I’m sorry about the last time. Please meet me today in Huntington Beach. Please come to the corner of Playa Azul and Vista del Mar Streets at ten-fifteen this morning. Please do not tell anyone else you are meeting me, especially not Mr. Ives. I don’t want to hurt his feelings if I’m wrong. Thank you, and please don’t try to call me. If you aren’t at the corner at ten-fifteen, we’ll just try another day, but it might be a long time before I can do that, so please, please, pretty please try to make it today. Alone. Thank you. Good-bye.”
Genie hung up and looked at Carrie with triumph.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Carrie said.
“No, you aren’t.”
“What do I tell her?”
“Okay, first, you don’t get in the car with her.”
“Even I know better than that.”
“She’ll see that you’re Carla just from the photo.”
“You think so?”
“Well, she might. Anyway, tell her that you want to know about Blake Ives.”
“And that I’m happy and have a good family and I don’t want to hurt them.”
Genie seemed not to hear this. “Tell her about your rememberings. Ask her if a family by the name of Mason is missing a girl my age.”
“Do you remember them?”
She shrugged. “It’s like it is for you. I get these pictures in my head, or remember smells-I remember the smell of paint.” She began snooping around the desk. Genie was always getting into things.
“Paint?”
“Like oil paint.” She looked up from a stack of outgoing mail she had been studying. “Isn’t that funny? Voices.” She shrugged again. “People, but I can’t really see their faces. I wish I knew more about them.” She was studying the big Priority Mail envelopes now.
“I’m not so sure I want to find out more about my father,” Carrie said.
Genie smiled. “You just called him your father. You want to find out. You read that article-he’s sad without you.”
“But Dad would be sad without me.”
“True. So would I. But I think that we’re going to be sad and upset if we keep wondering about this. We aren’t going to be able to hide what we know from Mom and Dad forever.”
This thought didn’t help settle Carrie’s stomach.
Genie put an arm around her shoulders. “Ask Ms. Kelly to help you. She might know how you can live with us but still see your father.”
“Or she might call the police on Mom and Dad.”
“I don’t think so. Don’t worry. I didn’t give Ms. Kelly our address or phone number. Make her drive off before you come back to the house.”
“And if she won’t?”
“Run to another house and hide in the yard.”
“And meanwhile? What will you be doing?”
“Lying like crazy,” she said, and they started to laugh, having a really hard time not being noisy.
But their laughter was cut short as they heard the automatic garage door opener kick into gear.
“Oh no, Dad’s home!”
“Shhh,” Genie said, snapping off the light.
This time, the darkness didn’t seem so friendly.
CHAPTER 38
Tuesday, May 2
7:02 A.M.
HUNTINGTON BEACH
GENIE took Carrie by the hand again, leading her through the dark room with an unerring ability to avoid furniture, making Carrie wonder how many times Genie had been snooping around in the office.
They stopped at the closed door and pressed their ears to it. They heard the sound of the garage door closing again, the motor of the van shutting off. The van door closing. Dad opening the door into the house, his footsteps passing by. They held their breath.
He didn’t hesitate near the office. He walked quickly toward the kitchen. They exhaled.
Genie carefully opened the door, transferred her hold on it to the knob on the outside. She let Carrie step into the hallway and then shut the door silently, slowly rotating the knob until the door latched again with a small snick.
They waited for some reaction to that sound, but in the kitchen, Dad was making quite a bit of noise. If he was fixing his own breakfast, they might be able to pretend they had just come downstairs. They usually got up at around this time to make breakfast for the family.
They had crept halfway down the hallway and were about to turn the corner leading to the kitchen when they heard the boys coming downstairs. Their voices carried to where the girls stood hidden from view.
“Daddy!” That was Aaron.
“Hi, Dad,” Troy said. “What are you doing?”
“Good morning, boys! You’re just in time to help me out. Will you go upstairs and tell Mom we’re going to serve her breakfast in bed?”
“Is it Mother’s Day?” Troy asked, confused.
“No, just a special treat for Mom.”
“Why are you making it?” Aaron asked. “That’s a girl’s job.”
Carrie and Genie exchanged a look. Genie signed, Aaron gets oatmeal for a week. Carrie smiled and signed agreement. Aaron hated oatmeal. Mom said the boy-girl thing he was into was just a phase, but it seemed like a long phase.
“No, no, it’s not a girl’s job,” Dad said. “When you and Troy are a little older, you’ll learn to cook, too. Boys have to be able to take care of themselves. You might not always have a girl in the house to cook for you.” He paused, then said, “Go on, go upstairs before Mom gets up. Hurry. Stay up there with her-it’s your job to make sure she doesn’t get up before we bring breakfast to her.”
The girls waited for the boys to go upstairs before they entered the kitchen. Dad was washing a small bowl at the sink. When he saw them he wished them a good morning and told them his breakfast-in-bed plan. Although he was trying to act cheerful, Carrie could see that he was still just as upset as he had been earlier this morning, when they sat on the stairs together.
Carrie suddenly thought of Uncle Dex, and wondered if Dad was doing this to make Mom like him again.
“How can we help?” Carrie asked.
“Would you please make some eggs and bacon? You know how Mom likes them.”
“Sure. Over medium.”
“I’ll make some toast,” Genie said.
“Thank you, girls.”
“What’s this for?” Genie asked, holding up a stalk of celery.
“Oh, for the special drink I’m making her.”
“Celery juice?” Genie said with disgust.
He laughed. “No, no. A Bloody Mary-a type of one, anyway. One without alcohol in it.”
“Bloody Mary? Like the queen?” Carrie asked.
“Yes, although I don’t think she actually had anything to do with the drink.”
“What queen?” Genie asked.
History was one of Carrie’s strongest subjects. “She was the queen of England. Mary Tudor, daughter of Henry the Eighth and Catherine of Aragon. Queen Mary I.” She began to tell the tale of how the queen got her nickname. It was a good and comfortable thing to do, to talk about history, even sad history. She noticed that Genie and Dad seemed to relax, hearing her little kitchen lesson. Genie asked questions, and Dad did, too. They could forget about any problems or worries they had right now and concentrate on the troubles of people who lived centuries ago. History was something she knew, something certain-or so it seemed, even though Grandfather told her that history changed depending on who told it. She could understand that.
She fell silent, thinking that maybe her father-Mr. Ives, if he was her father-might have one version of history to tell and her mom another. More than what was in the newspaper. She would have to listen to both versions. And to Dad’s, too.
Genie glanced at Carrie in concern, then asked Dad about the Bloody Mary drink. When he told her the ingredients, she said, “That sounds weird.”
“Mom will think of it as a special treat.”
Something about that upset him again. Even Genie noticed that. She looked at Carrie and quickly signed, What’s wrong with Dad?