On the other hand, she just didn't know. It was all a blank, locked tightly away in her brain. She knew she was capable of killing that bastard, but had she? There were many people who could have wanted her father dead. Perhaps they'd found out she'd been there after all. Yes, that was it. She'd been a witness and they knew it. She probably had been. She just didn't remember.
She had to stay focused on the present. She looked out the Greyhound window at the small town the bus was going through. Ugly gray exhaust spewed out the back of the bus. She bet the locals loved that.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
They were driving along Highway 101 southwest. Just another half hour, she thought, just thirty more minutes, and she wouldn't have to worry anymore, at least for a while. She would take any safe time she could get. Soon she wouldn't have to be afraid of anyone who chanced to look at her. No one knew about her aunt, no one.
She was terrified that the young Marine would get off after her when she stepped down from the bus at the junction of Highways 101 and 101A. But he didn't. No one did. She stood there with her one small bag, staring at the young Marine, who'd turned around in his seat and was looking back at her. She tamped down on her fear. He just wanted to flirt, not hurt her. She thought he had lousy taste in women.
She watched for cars, but none were coming from either direction.
She walked west along Highway 101A to The Cove. Highway 101A didn't go east.
'Yes?'
She stared at the woman she'd seen once in her life when she was no more than seven years old. She looked like a hippie, a colorful scarf wrapped around her long, curling, dark hair, huge gold hoops dangling from her ears, her skirt ankle-length and painted all in dark blues and browns. She was wearing blue sneakers. Her face was strong, her cheekbones high and prominent, her chin sharp, her eyes dark and intelligent. Actually, she was the most beautiful woman Sally had ever seen.
'Aunt Amabel?'
'What did you say?' Amabel stared at the young woman who stood on her front doorstep, a young woman who didn't look cheap with all that makeup she'd piled on her face, just exhausted and sickly pale. And frightened. Then, of course, she knew. She had known deep down that she would come. Yes, she'd known, but it still shook her.
'I'm Sally,' she said and pulled off the black wig and took out half a dozen hairpins. Thick, waving dark-blond hair tumbled down to her shoulders. 'Maybe you called me Susan? Not many people do anymore.'
The woman was shaking her head back and forth, those dazzling earrings slapping against her neck. 'My God, it's really you, Sally?' She rocked back on her heels. 'Yes, Aunt.'
'Oh, my,' Amabel said and quickly pulled her niece against her, hugged her tightly, then pushed her back to look at her. 'Oh, my goodness. I've been so worried. I finally heard the news about your papa, but I didn't know if I should call Noelle. You know how she is. I was going to call her tonight when the rates go down, but you're here, Sally. I guess I hoped you'd come to me. What's happened? Is your mama all right?'
'Noelle is fine, I think,' Sally said. 'I didn't know where else to go, so I came here. Can I stay here, Aunt Amabel, just for a little while? Just until I can think of something, make some plans?'
'Of course you can. Look at that black wig and all that makeup on your face. Why, baby?'
The endearment undid her. She'd not cried, not once, until now, until this woman she didn't really know called her 'baby.' Her aunt's hands were stroking her back, her voice was low and soothing. 'It's all right, lovey. I promise you, everything will be all right now. Come in, Sally, and I'll take care of you.
That's what I told your mama when I first saw you. You were the cutest little thing, so skinny, your arms Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
and legs wobbly like a colt's, and the biggest smile I'd ever seen. I wanted to take care of you then.
You'll be safe here. Come on, baby.'
The damnable tears wouldn't stop. They just kept dripping down her face, ruining the god-awful thick black mascara. She even tasted it, and when she swiped her hand over her face it came away with black streaks.
'I look like a circus clown,' she said, swallowing hard to stop the tears, to smile, to make herself smile.
She took out the green-colored contacts. With the crying, they hurt.
'No, you look like a little girl trying on her mama's makeup. That's right, take out those ugly contacts. Ah, now you've got your pretty blue eyes again. Come to the kitchen and I'll make you some tea. I always put a drop of brandy in mine. It wouldn't hurt you one little bit. How old are you now, Sally?'
'Twenty-six, I think.'
'What do you mean, you think?' her aunt said, cocking her head to one side, making the gold hoop earring hang straight down almost to her shoulder.
Sally couldn't tell her that though she thought her birthday had come and gone in that place, she couldn't seem to see the day in her mind, couldn't dredge up anyone saying anything to her, not that she could imagine it anyway. She couldn't even remember if her father had been there. She prayed he hadn't. She couldn't tell Amabel about that, she just couldn't. She shook her head, smiled, and said, not lying well, 'It was just a way of speaking, Aunt Amabel. I'd love some tea and a drop of brandy.' Amabel sat her niece down in the kitchen at her old pine table that had three magazines under one leg to keep it steady.
At least she'd made cushions for the wooden seats, so they were comfortable. She put the kettle on the gas burner and turned it on. 'There,' she said. 'That won't take too long.'
Sally watched her put a Lipton tea bag into each cup and pour in the brandy. Amabel said, 'I always pour the brandy in first. It soaks into the tea bag and makes the flavor stronger. Brandy's expensive and I've got to make it last. This bottle'-she lifted the Christian Brothers- 'is going on its third month. Not bad. You'll see, you'll like it.'
'No one followed me, Aunt Amabel. I was really careful. I imagine you know that everyone is after me.
But I managed to get away. As far as I know, no one knows about you. Noelle never told a soul. Only Father knew about you, and he's dead.'
