The Passing Storm(91)

Quickly she took hold of Rae’s hand.

“I can’t begin to guess what you’re going through, Rae. None of us will ever truly understand. I’m not asking for your forgiveness—I don’t deserve it—but I am grateful you’re allowing Sally to bring Jackie to talk it out. She’s begun seeing a child psychologist. It’s helping, reliving that night. I want my daughter to begin therapy too. She needs the help . . . all the girls do. Losing your daughter has taken them out of childhood too soon.”

Abruptly, Katherine halted the monologue. Covered her face as her shoulders quaked.

Rae struggled to her feet. The cold wind batted her hair in every direction. For a long moment, she stood there feeling nothing at all. As if Katherine’s surprising disclosures had hollowed her out.

Aren’t you worried what Jackie will tell me about Stella? With the thought came a jolt of pain, burning in Rae’s chest. She reminded herself that a parent couldn’t control her child. Not at the age of fourteen. If Stella had done something unthinkable, Katherine wasn’t responsible. A minor point: broken, distraught, she’d carry her daughter’s burdens like any good mother.

“Katherine.”

The quaking of her shoulders bent her forward. It was terrible to witness.

“Katherine, let me help you up.”

Which Rae did, gingerly. Holding on until Katherine’s feet were steady and she’d stopped crying. Taking Katherine by the elbow, Rae steered her to her car.

“Can you drive? If you can’t, let me call for a ride.”

“No, I’m fine. Thanks for hearing me out.”

“Of course.”

A tiny thread of civility, enough to stop Katherine in her tracks. “Truly. I’m grateful you listened. I’m so very sorry.”

“Thank you,” Rae heard herself say. “The apology means a lot.” Emotion clogged her throat.

And then, without thinking it through, she hugged Katherine. Without reservation—with only the need to impart comfort. To heal some small portion of the pain they were both feeling. Just as swiftly, she let Katherine go.

Eyes blurring, Rae walked away.





Chapter 34


Wordlessly, Rae ushered the others into the house. The soft click of a purse; fishing around inside, Sally withdrew a handful of tissues. Without asking permission, she knelt to mop up the worst of the mud on Rae’s feet.

“Do you want us to give you a moment, to change?” Rising, she took a gander at Rae’s shirt.

“We don’t mind,” Jackie added.

“No, I’m all right.”

Opening the foyer closet, Rae grabbed a sweatshirt hanging in back. She pulled it over her head. Whatever Jackie was here to tell her, she couldn’t bear to wait.

Sally placed a protective hand around her daughter’s shoulder. “Honey? Do you want to ask Rae?”

The question was barely out when Griffin’s voice came from the hallway.

“Rae! What are you doing out there? I thought we agreed you’d handle the dishes!”

Tossing a dish towel from hand to hand, Griffin waltzed into the room. “Sis.” He grinned. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Surprise competed with the mild delight on Sally’s features. “Griffin. Hi.”

Whatever the details of his falling-out with his sister, Griffin hadn’t revealed them. Rae did know they hadn’t spoken in some time. A situation he apparently planned to mend, from the look on his face.

Sally beat him to it. As he helped her out of her coat, she said, “I owe you an apology, little brother.” She cast a curious glance at Rae. “Maybe more than one.”

“Save it. I owe you about twenty apologies.”

“For what?”

“All the stuffed animals I took from your closet in high school.”

“You didn’t!”

“Oh yes I did. Rae used them for target practice when Dad took us hunting. No way would she aim at the real furry critters.” He feigned confusion. “Wait. Rae owes you those apologies.”

A moment of levity in the middle of a tense situation. Totally Griffin’s style. It was enough to banish the jitters pinging through Rae’s body.

“Hey, don’t look at me,” she said. “I thought they were your stuffed animals. Castoffs from childhood.”

Jackie, studying her feet until now, hugged a large paper bag close. A bag Rae hadn’t noticed until now.

The girl asked, “Uncle Griffin, what are you talking about?”

He gave her a peck on the forehead. “Antics I pulled on your mother in the long-ago. Never mind, kiddo.” He took her coat. “Are you here to ask Rae?”

“Ask me what?”

“Guys! The women need the house! Let’s watch the Cavs at my place.”

Like buffalo, the men stampeded from the house.

Sally closed the door behind them. “Why do I have the feeling my brother knew we were coming over?”

A feeling Rae shared. Tortoise. A slow-moving creature with superb planning abilities.

Jackie volunteered, “Uncle Griffin asked me to come around now. Didn’t I tell you, Mom?”

Sally released a sigh. “You did not.” Nervously, she assessed the living room. “There’s not enough room here. Rae, I hate to be a bother. Is there somewhere we can spread out?”