“If this is some trick to try to get me to meet with Harold—”
“It isn’t, I promise. Remember, you were the one who called me.”
Evelyn huffed. “Donny wasn’t even home that night. How could he have anything to do with Harold losing his mind? And if Harold talked to you about it, why can’t you just tell me yourself?”
Maureen wrung her hands together and glanced at different corners of the room as if seeking an escape. “I—I can’t. There are legal ramifications. And if this secret might land someone in the penitentiary, then it’s your father’s to share, and his alone.”
For years, Evelyn had clung to the hope that she would never have to see Harold Jameson again. At least, outside of her nightmares. The thought of seeing him in person filled her with dread because of what he had done and shame because she had never given him a chance to explain himself. “Do you think…he would tell me over the phone?”
Maureen shook her head. “Your father spent ten years deprived of modern conveniences and technology. He doesn’t trust anything electronic—especially phones and computers. But the decision is still yours. I’ve longed for the two of you to be reconciled ever since it happened, but he respects your wishes. If you don’t want to meet with him, you don’t have to.”
Evelyn stared at the door where, on the other side, the painted words had been. Her mouth went dry, and when she spoke, her voice was hoarse. “Knowing what you know, do you think I have any reason to be afraid of Donny?”
“You know Donny better than I do.” She paused and hugged herself. “All I can say is, love—and especially rejection—have made perfectly sane people do unspeakable things. And as your mother, I want you to be careful.”
The dim, unlit bedroom suddenly looked ominous in the periphery of Evelyn’s vision. “I have been, and I will. And, speaking of that, do you think you could give me a ride to Candace’s place? I haven’t been sleeping here, and I need to bring some things with me.”
Maureen nodded and fiddled with her keys. “I’ll wait in the car. Take your time.”
Out of habit, Evelyn locked the door behind Maureen. But as she turned to face the inside of her small apartment, she wished she wasn’t alone. Paranoia, she told herself. It was simply the day’s revelations straining her emotions, nothing more. Passing a partially painted wall, she grabbed a canvas bag from her bedroom closet and rushed around the apartment, gathering comfort items. Her extended stay on Candace’s couch was about to become permanent.
She toted the bag down the stairs and placed it in the back of Maureen’s car, and they rode across town in silence. When they arrived at Candace’s apartment complex, Evelyn thanked her mother and promised to think about meeting Harold. She would call in the morning to let her know what she had decided.
Wrapping her arms around the tote bag, Evelyn shut the rear door and crossed the street. Her gaze drifted to a shiny new Ford EcoSport that was parked in one of the Visitor’s spaces, its Ruby-Red paint glistening in the afternoon light. She’d been saving up to buy a car and had visited a dealer to test drive an EcoSport, even though it was well beyond her price range. With her student loans still hanging over her like a cloud, the best she could hope for was a barely functional used car.
After ascending the steps to the second-floor balcony, she shifted the weight of the tote to her hips and knocked—she didn’t want to sift through her keys to find the spare Candace had made for her.
The deadbolt turned and Candace pulled the door open. Speaking with a mouth full of Caesar salad, she said, “What’s all this?”
Evelyn set the bag against the wall by the door and untied her shoes. “It’s…a long story. But the gist of it is, I’m a big chicken and I don’t want to live alone any time soon. Is it alright if I stay with you for a few more weeks? Or maybe years?”
Candace gave her a curious look, then took her hand and led her toward the kitchen. “You can stay here as long as you need, little duckling. And I want to hear the whole story. But first…” She grabbed a cardboard box off the counter and handed it to Evelyn. “You have to open this. It showed up outside the door this morning, and I’ve been dying to know what’s inside.”
Evelyn frowned and turned the box over in her hands. There was no mailing label and no return address, just her name written in permanent marker. “Who sent this?”
“Don’t know. Someone knocked, but they were gone before I got to the door.” Her eyes were narrow, conspiratorial. “You don’t think it’s from your stalker, do you?”
Evelyn held the box out as if it was filled with nitro-glycerine. “Why’d you have to say that? Jeeze, Candace, what if it has a severed ear inside?”
Candace took the package with one hand and held up a kitchen knife with the other. “You want me to open it?”
Evelyn nodded, took a step back, and crouched as if expecting an explosion.
Candace merrily sawed into the packing tape, set the knife aside, and opened the top flaps. She raised an eyebrow and took out a stack of neatly folded papers. “A bunch of documents and…a key.”
“A key? To what?”
Candace looped her thumb through the keyring and held it up. “A car of some sort.”
Evelyn took the key and held it in her palm, studying the blue and white logo on the fob. “Did it come with a note?”
Candace shuffled through the documents, her eyes growing wider as she studied the pages.
“What is it?”
She shook her head slowly. “You’re not going to believe this.”
Evelyn snatched the pages out of Candace’s hand. There was a note on top, bearing a single, hand-written sentence. “I hope this gift can tell you what I have failed to say for so long: I’m in love with you, Evelyn Jameson, and I want to be with you. Forever.”
Her hands shook as she dropped the note, revealing the documents beneath—an invoice, dated four weeks ago, for the sale of a Ford EcoSport, and a Title printed with her name.
Candace studied her friend’s face, hesitant to break the silence. Finally, she cleared her throat and said, “What are you going to do?”
Evelyn took a deep breath and held the keys in a clenched fist. “I’m going to talk to my father. Tonight.”
16
I t’s time to take control.
For years, Evelyn had tried and failed to control any part of her life. She drifted through a series of doomed romantic relationships, failed to understand Donny’s unwanted affection, and suffered through endless recurring nightmares. For over a decade, she had been a victim—a cowering slave to a single dark memory.
But all that was going to change tonight. She would overcome her deep-seated fear of her father and master her new fear of Donny.
She gripped the steering wheel and turned, guiding the EcoSport into the driveway of her childhood home. She slammed the leather gearshift into park, cut the ignition, and stepped into the evening air. Her entire body shook as she mounted the concrete step and knocked on the front door.
A few seconds later, Maureen answered, staring suspiciously at Evelyn’s silhouette. She flicked the porch light on, and her eyes widened. “Evelyn, I had no idea you were coming.” She held the door close, hesitant to let her daughter inside. “If you would have called, I could have…made sure I was alone.”
Evelyn shifted her weight on her feet. “I know what I’m doing, Maureen. I’m here to see him.”
Maureen’s face lit up. “Really? What made you decide so quickly?”