Page 74 of Traces of Kara

“Nothing much,” Ted said. “She’s scared, but wants to be in her own apartment. She feels like her family was stolen from her.”

Mimi shot him a pained look. “She doesn’t even want us in her life, Ted.”

“Yes, she does. I told her, Mimi. I explained that you only did what you thought was best, but I didn’t really know what to tell her. I still don’t have all the details. I had no idea Roland even existed until this mess erupted.”

Ted was right. She had no reason to be hurt, or mad. She’d kept secrets from him. She’d kept secrets from Kara. She’d hurt everyone in an effort to protect them. Mimi left the room. When she returned, she carried a photo album and a box of tissues.

Mimi sat down on the couch next to Ted, the fabric-covered album in her lap. The white satin had yellowed. The knot holding the album shut had permanently crimped the ribbon. She ran her hand over the delicate white eyelets, remembering her and Al’s wedding day.

The photographs portrayed a family anyone would want to be part of. She, in her white wedding gown, Marissa to her left, her three-year-old cherub cheeks puffed with happiness, her little fist clenched around a tuft of Mimi’s dress. To Al’s right, Roland stood in his Sears three-piece suit, his hair cropped short, his eyes trained on Marissa, the hint of a smile on his face.

Mimi touched the photo just above Al’s face. The hole he’d left in her heart was suddenly there again; the loneliness, too. She covered her mouth with her hand. “I’m sorry,” she whispered to Ted, and plucked a tissue from the box. “I didn’t realize I’d react like this.”

Ted put his arm around her. “It’s okay,” he said. “You don’t have to show me these.”

Mimi blew her nose. “I want to. It was wrong of me to hide so much of my life from you. I want you to know, to see.” She flipped the pages to Roland and Marissa’s fourth birthday. Roland and Marissa leaned over opposite ends of the birthday cake. Marissa’s eyes were wide as she stared down at the cake, her cheeks full of air as they blew out the candles. Roland’s eyes were trained on Marissa.

The next page displayed a series of photographs of the kids playing in the grass. In each photo, Roland was intent on Marissa, regardless of the puppy before him, or the wrapped gift his father held.

Mimi flipped a few pages forward. Marissa held up a cast on her right arm, a forced smile on her lips. Mimi quickly turned the page. The image was too painful for her to bear.

Another photo revealed scratches on Marissa’s arm, a distant look in her eyes. Mimi flipped forward. Marissa had aged. She was no longer a carefree toddler. There was less baby fat around her cheeks, and a wary look in her eyes. Roland had changed as well. Dark circles shaded the space beneath his eyes.

“He looks exhausted,” Ted said.

Mimi nodded. “By this time, he’d been sneaking into Marissa’s room at night for about six months.” She looked away, her cheeks hot.

“I don’t…Did he…”

“No. It wasn’t like that. It was like he wanted to own her. He would sit in her room and stare at her, or climb into bed next to her. When we’d come in, he’d grab hold of her and not let go.” Mimi wiped her eyes, the memories reigniting old fears and hurt. “Marissa used to scream and cry as we pried them apart. He’d yell, ‘I’m not hurting her. She’s mine! She loves me!’” Mimi took a deep breath. “He scared her, demanding she tell us that she loved him. The way he looked at her, with those…those cold eyes, like he could hurt her as quickly as he could hug her. She was terrified of him. As Roland’s obsession worsened, Marissa became afraid to eat, sleep, or be anywhere but by his side. I tried to figure out what he wanted, but it was like he just wanted Marissa all to himself. Nothing would dissuade him.”

Ted took Mimi’s hand. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Mimi shook her head, wiping fresh tears from her eyes. “Yeah, right, Ted. Could you just imagine? You move here, you meet a single mom, and she tells you she’s hiding out from her daughter’s twin brother, who just happens to have obsessive tendencies? Or maybe I could have said that my husband left me and his daughter to go live with his crazy son.” She looked away.

“Mimi, you know what I mean.”

“As the years went by, I let him go. It was as if he had been part of a bad dream, and we could start our lives anew.”

“But Kara—Marissa—had to have some memories.”

Mimi folded and unfolded the tissue she’d been holding. She nodded, lifted her eyes slightly, looked at Ted, then dropped her eyes. “She remembered. I helped her forget, pretended he never really existed.” She stood and paced the living room. “It wasn’t hard, you know? She was just a little girl. We moved, she made new friends, and eventually just stopped asking about him. I guess…I guess maybe she forgot, or blocked it out, I don’t know.” She slumped down onto the couch. “God, Ted, I really screwed up.”

Ted sat back, blowing out a long sigh. “She feels like she doesn’t know who she is.”

“She said that?”

Ted nodded. “You could have told me.”

“Maybe,” Mimi said. “Or maybe if I’d told you, you would have run the other way.” Mimi’s forehead creased. “I wouldn’t have blamed you.”

Kara lay in her bed, her sweatpants and sweatshirt soft and warm against her skin. She hadn’t done much more than lie around since she’d come out of the hospital. She wanted to move forward, but was powerless against the physical and mental exhaustion that kept her tethered to the bed or couch. She couldn’t see through the fog of what had happened. She had spent the last few weeks wondering if she should leave town or not. It was hard for her to remember why she had been so determined to leave Williamsport. Had it been to escape Daryl and the marriage, or had it been to get away from her mother’s prying ways? Maybe it was to escape the discomfort of her relationship with Ted. Now everything had changed. Mimi wasn’t prying, Ted was kinder, and Kara was stuck.

In some strange way, she missed Dean. She couldn’t believe he was dead—gone. The idea of never hearing him taunt her again was too much for her. She closed her eyes against the tears that threatened. She knew she had to find the strength to move forward, but she didn’t know how. She didn’t want to hurt Mimi, and yet she didn’t want to give up her dreams, either.

The telephone rang on her bedside table. She looked at the caller I.D. Mom. Kara rolled over, staring into her closet. Part of her yearned to pick it up and thank Mimi for all the years she’d given up to protect her, and to make sure her mother was okay after all they’d been through, but she wasn’t ready. If she spoke to Mimi, she might not have the resolve to leave town—even though now that resolve had become a thin, frayed thread. She knew her mother might misconstrue her silence for anger, but Kara didn’t understand exactly what she was feeling, so how could she portray her struggle to anyone else? Her mother had risked her life to save her. That was clear to Kara now. Mimi had given up everything, all those years ago, to protect Kara, and to give her a life without fear. It occurred to Kara just how much she’d depended on Mimi, and taken her for granted in so many ways. It would be easy to fall back into that pattern and let Mimi pick up the pieces of Kara’s shredded life. How could Kara walk away? Guilt tightened in her chest. Did she owe it to her mother to forgo her own dreams in order to insure her mother’s happiness? Would it ensure her happiness?

Her entire life had been a sham. Mimi may not have been her biological mother, but she was the only mother Kara had ever known, and she fit the very definition of mother in every way. Still, Kara wondered what else she’d lied to her about. Kara had begun to question everything. When she’d first awoken from her coma, she’d had flashes of memories. She didn’t know if they were real or not, and she had no one to ask. Her mother had been through enough. Kara didn’t want to upset her any more by asking about her past, but inside she was terrified. If her brother was psychotic, was she? When would her craziness become apparent? What could she do to stop it? What if she was the crazy one?