'Who…who are you?' she asked.
'Ms. Gaines,' I said. 'My name is Henry Parker. I'm
James Parker's other son.'
30
The apartment was silent for what seemed like ages.
Helen Gaines sat there on the bed, unbelieving, her mouth in a silent O. I couldn't tell what she was thinking, if she knew who I was, or if I'd even existed.
Since she'd left Bend before I was even born, there was a chance she didn't know about me. Didn't know that
James Parker had another son. Or that Stephen Gaines had a brother.
But there was a glimmer of recognition there as she searched for a reaction. Perhaps Stephen had mentioned me the night he died. Maybe Helen knew there was another son.
Clarence Willingham's hand was on my back, but there was no force to it. As if he himself wanted to know just what was going on. When he'd first opened the door to his apartment building, I assumed Clarence's paranoia was due to the high, not wanting to get caught.
The dead bolts on his door, they were protecting a man whose father had been gunned down mercilessly. He grew up in fear, and now he was protecting Helen
Gaines. But why? How did they even know each other?
And how did Helen end up here, of all places, after fleeing Blue Mountain Lake?
Bernita had stopped screaming. Perhaps because they were both curious. Or perhaps because they didn't want to get anyone else involved. Because they were still protecting Helen.
'You're Henry,' she said. 'Oh my…I've wanted to meet you for so long.'
That answered my question.
'I only just found out you existed a few days ago,'
I said. 'Why didn't you ever try to reach me?'
'I didn't know how,' she said, but her voice betrayed that thought. She never really tried. The idea of my ex istence was grander than the reality of it.
I walked over to Helen. Extended my hand. She did not offer hers, and for a moment I was embarrassed, but then she stood up, took a breath and gathered me in her arms. It was a strange sensation, and one I wasn't sure was deserved or appropriate, but soon I felt my arms wrapping around this small, frail woman who'd been a part of my family's life long before I ever arrived.
Her pulse was racing. A slightly sour smell came off of her.
When Helen Gaines pried herself away from me, she stepped back, sat down on the bed with a sigh. The woman's pupils were dilated, and I had to take a moment to realize just how small, just how thin she was.
I remember the photo my father had shown me. The vi vacious young woman with the unruly brown hair, the bright green eyes. The eyes were still green, but they were slightly dulled. Too much life had passed by them.
Not enough love to keep them shining.
The veins in her wrists were thick, ropy. Blue streaks roamed underneath her skin. The brown of her hair had nearly all been wiped away, replaced with a stringy gray.
Then I heard a smacking sound and saw that she was licking her lips. Dry mouth. A symptom of crack addiction.
She was Stephen Gaines's mother all right.
'Wait,' I said. Suddenly I was the one confused. I'd been so caught up in discovering the earring and finding Helen that the biggest question hadn't even occurred to me to ask.
'How in the hell do you two know each other?' I said to Helen, then turned to Clarence.
Clarence bowed his head. Then he stepped by me, went and sat down on the bed next to Helen. She placed her hand on top of Clarence's head. He smiled weakly, tilted it slightly.
'Butch Willingham,' Helen said, 'saved my life. When
I came to this city I had nothing. I started using, but I was out of control. I bought from Butch, but he never sold me enough to kill me, which is what I wanted. One day, Butch found me passed out in a gutter. Facedown. Drowning in filth. He took me in. Nursed me back to health. He was my lover. My protector. He was the husband your father never was. The father Stephen never had.'
'And when my dad died,' Clarence said, 'Ms.
Gaines always looked after me. The city wouldn't allow her to adopt me because of her…issues…but she visited every day. She was the mom I lost when I was a kid.'
'So when Beth-Ann was killed,' I said, extrapolat ing what I'd learned, 'you called Clarence.'
'He was my only friend left,' Helen said. Her eyes were sunken. She began to weep softly, her small body trembling. Clarence wiped her tears away with his finger, took her frail hand and kissed the back. Helen smiled, nestled her head against his neck.
'She was here when I called,' I said. 'That's who I heard in the background.'
'I wouldn't let her stay at my pad. Too many people have my business card. Bernita here doesn't even have e-mail.'
'I found the earring,' I said to Helen.
'Earring,' she said, stumbling over her words. 'Oh my, from the cabin!'
'That's right.'
'I didn't even know I had the other one with me. It must have fallen.'
'Onto Clarence's carpet,' I replied. 'So he shuttled you downstairs to hide while I talked to him.'
'Didn't have time for anything else,' Clarence replied.
'You went to all this trouble,' I said.
'I'd do anything to protect this woman,' Clarence said. 'Anything.' Then he stared at me, his eyes gone from tender to fiery in an instant. 'Anything.'
I knew he was talking to me. That if I even thought about exposing Helen, about putting her in harm's way,
Clarence Willingham would have no problem making sure nobody heard what I had to say.
'So you hid her here,' I said.
Bernita chimed in, saying, 'Man did pay me.'
'I trust Bernita,' Clarence said. 'Helen wasn't so sure at first.'
'I didn't-still don't-know who to trust,' Helen said.
'I couldn't keep her with me,' Clarence said. 'I have clients coming over to my office, and there's no way she could have stayed upstairs. Besides, who would think to look here?'
'I would. I did,' I said.
'Yeah, well, most people ain't you, Parker.' I wasn't sure whether he meant that as an insult or a compliment.
'We need to talk about Stephen,' I said. 'Helen, I need to know what happened. The police have arrested my father for Stephen's murder. They know he came into the city to see you. They know you tried to black mail him. I need to know why. It wasn't for rehab for
Stephen. I need to know what that money was for, and what happened that night.'
Helen Gaines's hand went to Clarence's and held it tight. He put his arm around her, comforted her as she began to cry, this time harder. She wailed, her hand covering her mouth to stifle the sobs.
'Oh…my baby,' she said. 'My baby is gone…'
'Helen,' I said. But all I could do was wait it out. It hadn't even been a week since Stephen was murdered, and though Helen Gaines seemed far from mentally stable, there were some things that pierced the heart no matter how calloused it had grown.
She cried for several minutes. Clarence held her head, stroked her hair. His eyes were closed, too, and on his face I could see the pain of a man whose surro gate mother was going through hell in every way, shape and form.
