Past Perfect Life Page 15

  “I was convinced you’d show up one day and I wouldn’t be there,” Paula says.

  “The new owner has a file for what to do if a girl knocks on the door and starts asking questions. A very large file.”

  Wow. Since I have no recollection of living in Florida, I wouldn’t even know where that old house was, but I’m not about to inform Paula of that.

  Sarah remains in the doorway, a neutral expression on her face.

  Actually, it’s not neutral at all. There are quick flashes of boredom, then anger, but most of all it’s clear she is not having any of this.

  Me too, I want to say to her. We have more in common than she realizes.

  “This is great,” I say, because it is a really nice room. It’s just another thing I’m accepting: this is my new room. “I don’t need anything.” Plus, I don’t have enough clothes to fill half the drawers, let alone the walk-in closet.

  “Well, we can go down to the party whenever you’re ready,” Paula says.

  I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for what waits for me downstairs.

  I guess there’s no point stalling. It would also be nice to get away from the hateful glare Sarah is currently giving me.

  “I’m ready,” I lie.

  We walk downstairs. Sarah breaks off from the group and opens the door to the patio. Noise that was floating from a bunch of different conversations stops as everybody turns around. I freeze.

  “Here she is!” Paula says with a beam. “Our baby has returned home.”

  A round of cheers erupts, and I’m enveloped in a flurry of hugs, introductions, and a few tears.

  This is my family, I keep reminding myself.

  This isn’t real life, my head screams back.

  But I stuff that thought into the recesses of my mind. I allow a numbness to come over me. I try to play the part, as if I’ve been beamed into someone else’s life and I’m supposed to simply go along. So I smile and say hello. The new faces are never-ending. I’m inundated with questions. I answer how I’m doing a bunch of times—fine, thank you—and decline the plates of food that keep appearing in front of me.

  Paula stays by my side and keeps telling me how I know everybody. All these faces and names that I’m trying to keep straight offer their claim to me: this one was my first babysitter, that one would give me piggyback rides. I try to hold on to the stories, but they float out of my grasp a moment later.

  It’s like there is a black hole in my memories. I wish I could have one moment, even a flash of recognition. How could being around all these family members not click something in my brain?

  “Are you sure I can’t get you anything to eat?” Paula asks.

  “Yeah, I’m okay.” Maybe later, when the house is quiet and I’m …

  What?

  What exactly do I think is going to happen when it’s just Paula, Craig, Sarah, and me? Do I really believe that it’s possible to wake up one day and feel as if everything has righted in my life? Do I even want that? What would that say about everybody back home, my real home?

  I step away from the group to get some air and distance from the questions that keep spiraling in my head. A guy in his twenties with a beard and receding hairline comes over to me. He’s wearing a Buccaneers jersey and cargo pants. A beer is in his hand. “Hey there.”

  “Hi,” I reply, trying to search for his name.

  “It’s good to have you home.”

  “Thanks.” It’s the same conversation I’ve had with everybody. I think it’s the only thing we know to say to each other.

  “I get that Paula said you aren’t interested in media, but, man, you could go on like the Today show and probably meet a bunch of celebrities. You should enjoy your fifteen minutes of fame.”

  I don’t want fame. I don’t want any of this. Besides, I’m not famous. “Amanda Linsley” is having a bit of a moment, but Ally would like it to be over.

  He shakes his head at me. “You’re not thinking about all that money you can bank on this. Get a book deal or something. Milk it. That’s what I’d do.”

  I stare blankly at him, not even remotely interested in what he’s suggesting.

  “I got some buddies who could help you.”

  “It’s okay.” I look around for Paula. The one time I need her hovering, she’s disappeared.

  “Hey.” He takes out his phone. “Let’s get a selfie.” He positions himself next to me and holds out his phone. He’s smiling, while a horrified and uncomfortable me appears on his screen.

  I put my head down and step out of the shot. “I’d really prefer—”

  “Randy!” Craig comes over, an annoyed expression on his face. “We made it very clear we do not want any pictures of Ally taken today. Okay? Now, leave her in peace. You and I need to have a little conversation later.”

  “So she’s going to keep her name?” he asks as if I’m not standing right there.

  Craig drags him by the elbow. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but it’s clear there’s a heated exchange between the two.

  Randy. That name’s familiar. I search the plane ride conversation to figure out what Paula had to say about Randy. Is he an uncle or cousin?

  Randy stomps out of the backyard. Craig comes over. “I’m really sorry about that. Randy is a bit of a—What’s the polite way to say he’s a little obsessed with celebrities? I didn’t want to invite him, because I knew he’d be trouble, but your mother insisted that everybody be included.” Craig clenches his jaw.

  Oh, that’s right. Randy’s the one they think alerted the media. I make a mental note to stay as far away from him as possible. I can’t believe Paula knows this about him but still insisted he be invited. The Gleasons would never tolerate that kind of behavior from a family member.

  But you’re no longer with the Gleasons.

  “You can’t choose your family,” Craig says as he throws his arms up in the air.

  Like I need to be reminded of that.

  “How are you holding up?” he asks. “I’m sure this is a lot. I was overwhelmed the first time Paula introduced me to her family, so I get it.”

  I give Craig a small smile. “It is a lot. Would it …” I feel bad abandoning everybody, but I need to get away from this.

  “Do you need a break?” Craig has read my mind. He seems to get me more than Paula does.

  “Yeah. Would it be okay if I went to my room for a bit?”

  “Of course. Whatever you need. Do you want to take some food up?”

  Looking over at the table full of food does make my stomach rumble, but I’m too terrified of spilling in the pristine bedroom. “Maybe later.”

  I look down to avoid eye contact and more awkward conversations as I head upstairs to the room where I’m staying. I get a little excited that there’s a TV in there. Part of me wants to shut the door, turn on the TV, and pretend I’m on vacation, since I don’t know what else to do. It takes all of fifteen minutes to put my clothes in the closet and toiletries in the bathroom.

  Now what?

  I sit down on the bed and stare at the Monet print that’s near the door. I read through the dozen or so “How are you?” texts from various Gleasons checking in. I smile at the thought of my extended family worrying about me, but I don’t know how to reply. Besides, it’s too hard to think about what they’re doing now. While I know their lives have changed with me leaving, they’ll eventually go back to their routines and lives. It’ll be like I was never there at all.

  I startle as I look up and see Sarah studying me from the doorway.

  “Oh, hey.”

  She gives me a blank stare in reply.

  “Ah, do you want to come in?” I offer. I want to take a sledgehammer to the wall she seems to have built around us. Part of me doesn’t blame her. I’m this stranger who has come into her house to live with her. Her life has changed as well. Since she stays in the doorway, I extend an olive branch. “I know this is weird.”

  “You think?” Her eyes narrow as she pushes off the
door frame. I think she’s going to leave, but she takes one step into the bedroom and tilts forward. I find myself leaning toward her as well, waiting to hear what she’s going to tell me. Maybe she’ll give me the inside scoop on living with Craig and Paula.

  She shakes her head back and forth as she examines me up and down. “I wish you were never found.”

  And with that, she turns on her heels. I jump as she slams her bedroom door shut.

  Chapter

  TWENTY-NINE

  Sarah’s words echo in my head as I lie in bed. It’s not even ten o’clock, but after everybody left, I claimed exhaustion and got into bed. I had at first turned the TV on and was overwhelmed by how many channels they have. I came across The Empire Strikes Back, one of the Star Wars movies Dad and I always watched on my birthday, and had to shut off the TV.

  I’ve been staring at the darkened ceiling ever since.

  I have no idea what to do about Sarah, because I agree with her 100 percent. If I hadn’t been discovered, I would be in Valley Falls right now, having Thursday game night with Dad. Instead I’m in a strange house in an unfamiliar bed.

  I turn over on my side and see the glow of the hallway light outlining the bedroom door. On the other side: a half sister who resents me and a mother I don’t know.

  I grab my cell phone from my bedside table and turn it on. I need my best friend right now. It’s been a little over twelve hours since I last saw her, but it feels like months.

  Greetings from Florida, I type.

  My phone rings a few seconds later, and Marian’s name appears on my small screen.

  “Hey,” I say.

  “Are you okay? We are so worried about you. How are things? How is the home? How is everybody? We miss you so much.” She’s speaking so fast I don’t have a chance to answer. Which is good, since I don’t know if I can even speak. I wipe away the tears that have plopped onto my pillow.

  “It’s been hard,” I admit. “Really hard.”

  “Oh, Ally.” There’s a tremor in her voice. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say. I want you here.”

  “I want to be there. I don’t belong here.” I know how much it means to the people I met today to have me here, but I’m not one of them. You can slap whatever name you want on me—Cardiff, McMullen—but it doesn’t automatically make us a family. I’m the person Dad raised me to be. I can’t change because I now live somewhere else. Sharing DNA doesn’t automatically make you a family.

  I hear voices in the background asking about me. Marian shushes them, and then I hear her walking up the stairs. There’s an excited bark.

  “How’s Baxter?” I ask, and the injustice of it all breaks me. Sure, Paula now gets her daughter, but what do I get?

  Nothing.

  I get nothing.

  “Baxter is good. No surprise that we can’t help but spoil him rotten. Next time you see him, he’s going to be so fat. Right, Baxter?” Baxter barks in response.

  “I’m getting an iPhone tomorrow, so we can FaceTime.”

  “I hope you get a good package, because we are going to have to FaceTime every day.”

  “Every second.”

  “It’s so good to hear your voice. We were all freaking out when we saw the news reports from the airport. Uncle Brian was beyond angry someone tipped the media off.”

  “Oh.” I hadn’t watched the news or googled “Amanda Linsley” since I arrived. I don’t want to know what’s being said. I hope that the press will eventually move on to a different target. Paula and the sheriff here talked about releasing yet another statement asking for my privacy. All I know is that I don’t feel comfortable being out in public with the media vultures circling. Not like I see myself feeling okay about anything ever again.

  “How did you end up leaving the airport without being discovered?”

  I tell her about my grandmother and then about the party. And Sarah.

  “Oh, no. I’m so sorry.” Marian’s voice, which is usually full of life and bubbly, is strained. “I’m sure she just needs time.”

  “I know.” I think that’s what we all need. But will I really wake up one day and be okay with everything? Or will it happen little by little? All I know is that when I have woken up every morning since this all began, I have a few seconds when I don’t realize what’s happened. For a few precious seconds I can convince myself that it was a horrendous nightmare. When I finally remember that no, it’s real, I feel even worse. Every day it gets worse. Every day there’s a new revelation.

  It was harder and harder to get out of bed at Marian’s house—there was that one day I didn’t leave the bed. That was when I was in a familiar house with familiar people. Am I even going to have the strength to get up tomorrow and face the day?

  And the day after that.

  An idea hits me. “Hey, you remember that calendar system with my dad?”

  “Yes! You were the gold star queen!”

  “Maybe that’s what I need to do: get a calendar and get a star for every day I survive here. Your uncle said I just had to graduate from high school. So for every ten, no, make it every five days I get through, I can get an ice cream or Frappuccino or something. Baxter won’t be the only one packing on the pounds.”

  “Whatever it takes to get you through.”

  I nod, even though Marian can’t see me.

  Whatever it takes to get me through.

  “So, how was school?” I ask, desperate to get my mind off me for a few minutes.

  “It’s school. Reporters have stopped stalking it. So I guess that’s good.”

  “Yeah. What else is going on there?”

  “Nothing. We’re mostly just missing you. Umm … I know you have a lot going on, but can you please text Neil back? He’s about to have an aneurysm.”

  “Yeah. I wasn’t in a very chatty mood today.”

  “So …,” Marian starts, and right then I know she knows.

  Of course she knows.

  “Oh God, he told you.”

  There’s a slight pause. “YES!” she screams. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were macking down with my cousin.”

  “You didn’t just refer to it as ‘macking down,’ did you?”

  “What would you call it?”

  Mauling, but I keep that thought to myself.

  Marian continues, “You always had your act together with everything else, but it took you forever with him. I’ve wanted you two to get together for forever. We all have! You guys were the will-they-or-won’t-they of the group!”

  “What? You guys have talked about Neil and me?”

  “All the time!”

  “And why didn’t you tell me this?”

  “Because I knew you’d be horrified and I didn’t want to force you to do anything you didn’t want. I mean, it’s my dream for you to be like my cousin-in-law or whatever. And you should’ve seen the look on his face when he told me. His face, no lie, was the color of his hair. It was hilarious and pretty adorable because he was both confused about what happened, but also, like, totally turned on by it.”

  “Marian!” I scold her, even though I’m laughing. I have to admit, Neil is a nice distraction. I can think about him and think about possibilities, and it won’t really matter because I’m hundreds of miles away from him.

  “Believe me, I don’t want to think about my cousin being all hot and bothered—”

  “Oh my God! Stop!” Although I’ll be honest: I keep thinking about that kiss as well. And it does leave me with some feelings of the warm and tingly variety.

  There’s a knock on my door, and Paula cracks it open. “Everything okay in here? I heard a scream.”

  I put my hand over my phone. “Sorry. I’m talking to Marian.”

  Paula looks blankly back at me.

  “She’s my best friend from home.”

  No recognition.

  “Her uncle’s the sheriff.”

  Nada.

  “You picked me up from their house. She’s coming here
for winter break.”

  Did she take a pill to completely wipe her mind clear of her time in Wisconsin? Seriously.

  “Um, she has my dog.”

  There it is. Paula winces at the mention of Baxter. “Oh, that’s nice. Let me know if you need anything.”

  “I will.” She gives me one more glance before closing the door.

  “Sorry, that was Paula checking in on me,” I say to Marian.

  “Do you call her Paula or Mom?”

  “I try to avoid calling her by any name.”

  There’s a pause for a slight moment. “Do you think you’ll be happy there?”

  I weigh the options in my head. It doesn’t take long since I don’t have many of them. I’m stuck here, so I either have to suck it up and get used to it … or I guess I could just have a horrible attitude and make everybody’s lives, including mine, miserable.

  “I’m going to try.”

  “Oh God, Ally, I can smell the bullshit from here.”

  This is the thing about Marian. She can sense the lie on me even when we’re on the phone.

  “I don’t know what to do,” I confess.

  “I can’t even imagine what you’re thinking. And my parents told me that I’m supposed to be positive and everything and that you have this family that has missed you, but it’s not fair. And I’m so pissed. I’m pissed that you’ve been taken away from us. I know I should be only thinking about you, and I am, it’s just this sucks.”

  “It does!” It’s nice to say it aloud and stop burying it inside.

  “I wonder if I can kidnap you when I visit. Or is a kidnapping reference too soon?”

  “It’s not.” I know my father did this horrible thing, but I still don’t understand: how can someone kidnap their own child? I’m pretty sure if Paula and Dad would’ve gotten a proper divorce and I had to go to court and choose between them when I was little, I would’ve chosen Dad. So what’s the difference?

  Wait a second. How can Paula and Craig be married if Paula and Dad never got a divorce? Or did they? Can you divorce someone who has disappeared? There’s really so much I don’t know about what happened. Or about Paula and what she did when she figured out I was gone.