The Silent Sister(73)

“Well, that’s what worries me,” she said. “That in your rush to get back to your life, you’re not making the wisest decisions.”

I leaned forward. I needed to get this over with. “How do we do it?” I asked. “Do you need to draw up a contract or what?”

She sensed my impatience and gave in to me with a small nod of her head. “It’s called a gift deed,” she said. “It’s really quite simple. As grantor, you sign the deed over to the Kyles. As grantee, they sign it as well, accepting it without special warranty. They can have a title search performed, which I’d recommend, but they can waive that if they so choose. Then I, or rather my secretary, will deliver the deed to the courthouse to be recorded and we’re done. It’s that simple.”

“Perfect,” I said. “When can we do this?”

“I can draw up the form this afternoon and you can all come in tomorrow afternoon to sign it.”

You all. “Does Danny need to come, too?” I asked. I was his trustee. I was counting on him not needing to sign.

“No,” she said. “The only problem with us doing it tomorrow is that I won’t be able to get the deed to the courthouse until Monday, so it won’t be recorded until then.”

“That’s fine.”

“Usually”—she peered at me above her reading glasses—“the language in a gift deed states that the transfer is being made in consideration of love and affection between the grantor and grantee.”

My stomach knotted at the words. “Just leave that out,” I said.

She gave me a worried smile. “Will do,” she said, and I had the feeling she didn’t believe for a moment that I wasn’t making this decision under duress.





MARCH 1996

37.

Morehead City, North Carolina

Jade

Sitting in a rental car in front of the Sanitary Fish Market Restaurant, she took off the giant sunglasses she’d bought for this trip. She was afraid she was on a very big, very expensive, wild-goose chase. She’d sat there for nearly three hours and now daylight was fading and it would be even harder to see people going into the building.

Putting the car in drive, she moved it a bit closer to the entrance so she could see more clearly in the dimming light. It had been a beautiful day, and with so many families on spring break, the restaurant appeared to be filling up. She’d counted on that. She’d counted on being able to blend into the crowd, but it was beginning to seem as though it didn’t matter.

Grady had wanted her to work this week, but she told him she was going up to Portland to see Celia. The truth was, Celia’s break fell at a different time from hers. Even Celia didn’t know where she was right now. No one did, and that thought put a lump in her throat. No matter how many people care about you, she thought, if you can’t be open with them about who you truly are, you are still alone.

She’d tried to sleep in the car the night before after flying into Raleigh, but it had been too cold and she couldn’t quiet her brain. She kept thinking about the drive here to Morehead City, the small North Carolina town that was home to the Sanitary Fish Market her father had made the mistake of mentioning in his letter. She’d worried about getting lost and all the other things that could go wrong. Riley could wake up with the sniffles. The weather could keep them home. By the time morning came and she actually started the drive, she was wiped out.

She’d waited until she was nearly to Morehead City before putting on the oversized sunglasses and Halloweenish black wig she’d bought, worried that her dyed hair wouldn’t be nearly enough of a disguise. Then she found the restaurant, parked the car, and waited. Now it seemed the whole trip had been for nothing.

Then, in the spotlights from the restaurant, she saw a man and woman and fair-haired boy walking up the sidewalk toward the entrance. A girl ran ahead of them and Jade leaned forward, holding her breath. Despite knowing full well that Riley was now eight, she’d been looking for a small child.

“Oh, my God,” she whispered. Her breath left a smudge of fog against the car window, and she quickly erased it with her fingers so nothing was in the way of her view.

Her mother’s dark hair was short now, tucked behind her ears. She walked next to Jade’s father, but they weren’t holding hands as they used to and there was a good six inches of air between them. My fault, Jade thought. Her father hadn’t said as much in his letter, but between every line about her family falling apart, she’d felt the blame.

In the light from the restaurant, her father looked completely gray. That was a shock. But he smiled as he called out something that made Riley turn around and wave to him.

Danny and Riley … she wouldn’t have recognized them. Danny was tall and gangly, his hair absolutely white, the same color hers would be if she didn’t dye it. He walked a little hunched over, like he’d grown tall too quickly and was uncomfortable with his height.

Then there was Riley. Oh, my God, Riley! Jade wished for more daylight so she could see her clearly, but she could tell that the little two-year-old was gone and in her place was a slender, pretty child with dark wavy hair. Riley ran back to her parents and took her father’s hand, swinging it, giving a playful hop every few steps. Jade swallowed hard. She’d done the right thing, all those years ago. The right thing.