Read Online Breaking the Silence by Diane Chamberlain - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Diane Chamberlain
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Alison Becker and Emma sitting on the front porch of the lake house, the blue plastic Barbie doll case between them on the step. After Laura let Emma into the locked house, Alison explained that her husband had arrived for the weekend. When Jim walked into the Beckers’ house, Emma dropped the doll she was playing with and ran outside. Alison had to go after her. She’d been unable to persuadeEmma to return to the house, and so she’d gathered up Emma’s Barbies and walked her home.
“Her therapist says she’s having a problem with men,” Laura said, acknowledging to herself for the first time that Heather might be right. Jim was an unusual man, though. A kindhearted soul, but large and gruff. His voice vibrated in your toes.
Laura set the book she’d been reading to Emma on the nightstand, then carefully extracted herself from beneath her daughter, tucking her and the ragged bunny under the covers.
After making sure the small, fairy-shaped night-light was plugged into the wall near Emma’s bed, she turned out the light to the room, then walked down the hall to the spare bedroom. She’d been looking forward to this evening ever since her visit with Sarah Tolley that afternoon.
In the closet of the spare bedroom was a large cardboard box filled with Carl Brandon’s old papers and memorabilia. Laura had filled the box while cleaning out his apartment after he died, keeping those papers that looked important and discarding many others. Somewhere in that box there had to be a clue to his relationship with Sarah Tolley.
She’d been surprised by the wealth of details Sarah could remember. After her visit, Laura had tracked down Carolyn, Sarah’s attendant.
“She can remember so much,” Laura told her. “Are you sure about her diagnosis?”
“She remembered things from way back when, right?” Carolyn asked.
“Yes.”
“That’s where her mind is still alive,” Carolyn said. “We showed The Philadelphia Story last Friday night, and she knew all the lines. She drove everyone else crazy reciting them. But the next day, she couldn’t even tell me what movie we’d seen.”
Carolyn was right. After all, Sarah had not even remembered meeting Laura before.
There was a handsomeness about Sarah Tolley. She was not beautiful, but her face radiated warmth and there was an undeniable grace in her demeanor. Laura could see the homely child behind the dignified woman, though, and knew that Sarah had not imagined those childhood taunts.
Spreading her father’s papers out on the queen-size bed, she sorted through them, hunting for some reference to a Sarah Tolley or a Sarah Wilding. She found a copy of the contract he’d signed to move Sarah into Meadow Wood Village. His relationship to Sarah was listed merely as “friend.” There were mortgage papers for the house he’d owned before moving to the apartment, and maintenance records for the car he’d sold years ago. There were a few pictures of her father as a younger man, and she set them on the night table. She’d take them with her the next time she visited Sarah. If Sarah had known her father from some time in the distant past, the pictures might help her remember.
There was a picture of her mother and father on their wedding day, but there were no pictures of anyone else, and Laura ruefully recalled having thrown out many photographs of strangers when she’d cleaned out her father’s apartment.
She sat on the guest room bed for hours, and it was nearly midnight when she finally lay down on top of the papers and closed her eyes.
“Why, Dad?” she said out loud. “I just don’t get it.”
The phone awakened her early the next morning, when she was still lying fully dressed on the paper-strewn bed. Slowly, she got to her feet and stumbled toward her bedroom and the portable phone.
It was Madeline Shires, Ray’s literary agent.
“I have some wonderful news,” Madeline said. “We have an offer for No Room at the Inn from Lukens
“Her therapist says she’s having a problem with men,” Laura said, acknowledging to herself for the first time that Heather might be right. Jim was an unusual man, though. A kindhearted soul, but large and gruff. His voice vibrated in your toes.
Laura set the book she’d been reading to Emma on the nightstand, then carefully extracted herself from beneath her daughter, tucking her and the ragged bunny under the covers.
After making sure the small, fairy-shaped night-light was plugged into the wall near Emma’s bed, she turned out the light to the room, then walked down the hall to the spare bedroom. She’d been looking forward to this evening ever since her visit with Sarah Tolley that afternoon.
In the closet of the spare bedroom was a large cardboard box filled with Carl Brandon’s old papers and memorabilia. Laura had filled the box while cleaning out his apartment after he died, keeping those papers that looked important and discarding many others. Somewhere in that box there had to be a clue to his relationship with Sarah Tolley.
She’d been surprised by the wealth of details Sarah could remember. After her visit, Laura had tracked down Carolyn, Sarah’s attendant.
“She can remember so much,” Laura told her. “Are you sure about her diagnosis?”
“She remembered things from way back when, right?” Carolyn asked.
“Yes.”
“That’s where her mind is still alive,” Carolyn said. “We showed The Philadelphia Story last Friday night, and she knew all the lines. She drove everyone else crazy reciting them. But the next day, she couldn’t even tell me what movie we’d seen.”
Carolyn was right. After all, Sarah had not even remembered meeting Laura before.
There was a handsomeness about Sarah Tolley. She was not beautiful, but her face radiated warmth and there was an undeniable grace in her demeanor. Laura could see the homely child behind the dignified woman, though, and knew that Sarah had not imagined those childhood taunts.
Spreading her father’s papers out on the queen-size bed, she sorted through them, hunting for some reference to a Sarah Tolley or a Sarah Wilding. She found a copy of the contract he’d signed to move Sarah into Meadow Wood Village. His relationship to Sarah was listed merely as “friend.” There were mortgage papers for the house he’d owned before moving to the apartment, and maintenance records for the car he’d sold years ago. There were a few pictures of her father as a younger man, and she set them on the night table. She’d take them with her the next time she visited Sarah. If Sarah had known her father from some time in the distant past, the pictures might help her remember.
There was a picture of her mother and father on their wedding day, but there were no pictures of anyone else, and Laura ruefully recalled having thrown out many photographs of strangers when she’d cleaned out her father’s apartment.
She sat on the guest room bed for hours, and it was nearly midnight when she finally lay down on top of the papers and closed her eyes.
“Why, Dad?” she said out loud. “I just don’t get it.”
The phone awakened her early the next morning, when she was still lying fully dressed on the paper-strewn bed. Slowly, she got to her feet and stumbled toward her bedroom and the portable phone.
It was Madeline Shires, Ray’s literary agent.
“I have some wonderful news,” Madeline said. “We have an offer for No Room at the Inn from Lukens
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