Never Knowing

I’d been feeling so good I even got up early this morning and went on a shopping bender for Ally. I dropped a ton of money on craft supplies and a Netbook, telling myself it would help her learn. I love buying her things: costumes, books, games, paints, clothes, stuffed animals. If Ally’s happy, I’m happy. As I walked back into my house carrying all the bags, the phone rang.

“You better come over tonight.” It was my father. And his tone told me I was in trouble — big trouble.

“What did I do wrong?”

“I got a call.…”

Dad paused for an excruciating minute. I held my breath.

“It says on the Internet that your father’s the Campsite Killer.” His voice was tight with anger, demanding an explanation. I tried to make sense of what he’d just said, but it felt like the wind had been knocked out of me.

“Did you know about this? Is it true?” His words hammered into me again, sending my pulse skyrocketing. This was the last way I wanted them to find out. I thought of Mom, of how hurt she was going to be. I dropped onto the hall bench, closed my eyes, and got it over with.

“I found my birth mother a couple of months ago.” I took a deep breath, then spat out the rest. “And it looks like my birth father is probably the Campsite Killer.”

Dad was silent.

I said, “Who called you?”

“Big Mike.”

Dad’s head foreman? How did he find out about this? The man is barely literate. Dad answered my questions for me.

“He said his daughter found it on Nanaimo News for Now.”

“You mean that gossip Web site?” I was already running upstairs to my computer.

Dad’s voice was hard. “You found your birth mother two months ago, but you didn’t say anything? Why didn’t you tell us you were looking for her?”

“I wanted to, but I just … Hang on, Dad.”

I typed in the Web site address and found the article.

Karen Christianson found in Victoria …

“Oh, no.”

I tried to read the article, but shock made the words jumble. I caught snippets. Karen Christianson … Only survivor of the Campsite Killer … Julia Laroche … Professor at the University of Victoria. Thirty- three-year-old daughter Sara Gallagher … Family-run business Gallagher Logging in Nanaimo …

It was out, everything was out.

Dad said, “How did they know she was your mother?”

“I have no idea.” I stared at the screen as panicked thoughts careened through my head. How many people had seen the article?

Dad said, “I’ll call Melanie and Lauren. I want everyone here by six. We’ll talk about it then.”

“I’ll e-mail the site right away and tell them—”

“I’ve already called my lawyer. We’ll sue their asses off if they don’t take this article down right away.”

“Dad, I can handle it.”

“I’m taking care of it.” His tone made it clear he didn’t think I could handle anything.

After he hung up I realized he’d said, “Your father’s the Campsite Killer.” Not your birth father, just your father.

Now you know why I’m so stressed out, Nadine. After I got off the phone with my dad I read the rest of the article, wanting to throw up the whole time. It had a ton of pictures of Karen Christianson — they even posted her staff photo from the university. I couldn’t believe how much detail was in it about me too, what I do for a living, stuff about Evan’s lodge. The only thing it didn’t mention was that I had a daughter — thank God.

Even though Dad had called his lawyer, I sent the Web site an e-mail asking them to remove the article and phoned every extension listed on the site, but no one called back. Yet again I was left feeling like an idiot who couldn’t do anything right. I tried to call Evan, but he was out on one of the boats with a group and wouldn’t be in until after dinner. Lauren wasn’t answering her phone, and she’s a stay-at-home mom. She was probably hiding out in her garden. I’m sure she’s dreading tonight’s meeting as much as me — Lauren hates it when people are upset.

Now I’m wondering if Melanie could’ve heard Lauren and me talking. But bitchy as Melanie can be, I just can’t see her doing something this mean. Of course, if she told Kyle … he looks like the kind of guy who’d sell his kid sister if he thought it would get him ahead. There’s no way Lauren or the PI would have said anything.

I haven’t been this scared about a family meeting since I had to tell my parents I was pregnant. Dad got up in the middle of that speech and left the room. I took Moose for a walk, hoping to get rid of all the nervous energy humming through my body, but I just ended up rushing back home to my computer. The article was still up when I had to leave for our appointment. I’m trying to calm down by reminding myself this can’t go anywhere if I don’t confirm anything. Dad’s lawyer works at one of the top firms in Nanaimo. He’ll have the article pulled off that site by the end of the day. People might gossip for a while, and then something else will take its place. I just have to wait things out.

But I have a feeling something worse is waiting for me.

SESSION FOUR

Thank God you can fit me in — I know I was here yesterday, but when I panic like this everything in my head just spins around and around. All I could think was that I had to come here. You have to help me calm down because if one more thing happens today I’m going to lose it completely.

By the time I left my house for the family powwow I was in an even worse mood. It didn’t help that I’d had a heated debate with a six-year-old who did not like the change of plans.

“You said we can make pancakes for dinner. In different shapes like Evan makes them.” Her voice was anxious. Ally has a methodical streak and all decisions require much deliberation, which is adorable when she sticks her little tongue out of her mouth and contemplates what to buy Moose with her birthday money but an absolute nightmare if we have to do anything in a hurry.

“I don’t have time tonight, Ally Cat. We’re going to have chicken soup.”

Fists balled on her hips. “You promised.” The second part of Ally’s orderly nature is that she needs to know our plans for each day and what she can expect in every situation. If I deviate off course, or God forbid rush through any step of the process, she’ll come unglued.

“I know. I’m sorry, but we can’t today.”

“You promised.” Her high-pitched whine set my teeth on edge.

I whirled around. “Not today.”

She ran back to her room with her dark curls bouncing around her head and slammed the door. I heard something thump against it. Moose sat outside her door looking at me reproachfully. I didn’t hear her crying, but Ally rarely cries — she’d throw something before she ever shed a tear. I once saw her stub her toe, then turn around and kick the offending table leg.

I tried the handle. It turned, but something was against the door. Ah. Evan taught her to brace her chair under the knob if there’s an intruder.

“Ally, I’d like you to come out so we can talk about this, please.”

Silence.

I took a deep breath.

“When you come out we can pick another night this week to make pancakes — I’ll teach you how to make the batter from scratch. But you have to come out at the count of three.”

Silence.