the crate and curled up for a nap.
The terminal was relatively uncrowded, but still humming with folks checking bags or waiting at their respective gates, poking away at laptops and cell phones. She turned to thank Bill and release him from his babysitting duties when her eye was caught by an older person standing near a vending machine. The woman had graying hair cut short, a cardigan draped over one arm in spite of the summer temperatures. She gripped a cane in the other. Something about the woman drew Heather’s attention.
A leather pocketbook hung from the lady’s shoulder, worn and scarred but somehow familiar. Very familiar. Heather drew closer.
The woman’s posture, ramrod straight in spite of her disability, struck a chord.
“Heather?” Bill said.
She ignored him and moved forward just as the woman turned.
Heather cried out.
Her shock was mirrored on the face of the woman, who stared openmouthed for a moment before she composed herself, gripping her cane more tightly.
“Hello, Heather.”
Heather stood there, frozen in silence. Bill reached her side and took her arm.
“What is it?” he murmured, his voice low, gaze shifting from the woman to Heather. “Who is this?” he added in a whisper.
“It’s …” Heather forced the words out, her mouth suddenly gone dry, her whole body trembling. “It’s my mother.”
Bill found himself at a loss. The two women stood there staring at each other until the older lady extended a withered hand to him.
“Margot Stark.”
He shook it gently and introduced himself. “I gave Heather a ride to the airport.”
Margot looked at her daughter. “Oh? Is she leaving town?”
Bill knew that this was the same woman who had walked out on Heather when she was just a child. For the life of him, he had no idea what to think about coming face-to-face with the lady now. He could tell by the emotions flooding across Heather’s face that she didn’t, either. Heather seemed incapable of making any kind of move, so he took her arm and led them to an unoccupied group of chairs. “I need to return a phone call. I’ll be right over there.”
He picked a spot where he could see them and keep an eye on the entrance at the same time. Heather didn’t look at him as he moved away. Her face was dull with shock, hands gripped into tight balls on her lap.
What would this bombshell do to her? Part of him wanted to head over and tell the woman she had some nerve dropping back in on Heather’s life as if she hadn’t destroyed her daughter decades ago. But he thought of his own sister, Leanne, and her two daughters, grown now. No matter where Kelly and Rose went, he secretly believed his nieces would never fillthe hole left by their mother’s struggle with addiction and her subsequent death.
Another death he hadn’t been able to prevent.
If they got the opportunity to put things right, wouldn’t he want them to have it? Maybe this was Heather’s chance.
Gritting his teeth, he checked his watch. The emotional drama was certainly unexpected, but it couldn’t distract him from the bigger issue. The flight left in a half hour and if he had to carry Heather over his shoulder, she would be on it, mother or no mother. He tried not to listen, but their conversation carried to him anyway.
“Why are you here now?” Heather croaked.
Margot carefully laid the cane across her knees. “I had another stroke and the paralysis left me unable to manage the stairs to my apartment, much less hold down a job. To be honest, I was having a hard time meeting the rent. I called your father’s cell phone. He said I could stay in the house if you would allow it.”
Heather shook her head and stared. “So that’s why you came back? You needed a place to live?”
“Yes. Those are the facts. You look upset. Did I say something wrong?”
Heather’s mouth worked for a moment before she answered. “Wrong? What could be wrong? There’s a deranged killer stalking me and now you show up.”
The terminal was relatively uncrowded, but still humming with folks checking bags or waiting at their respective gates, poking away at laptops and cell phones. She turned to thank Bill and release him from his babysitting duties when her eye was caught by an older person standing near a vending machine. The woman had graying hair cut short, a cardigan draped over one arm in spite of the summer temperatures. She gripped a cane in the other. Something about the woman drew Heather’s attention.
A leather pocketbook hung from the lady’s shoulder, worn and scarred but somehow familiar. Very familiar. Heather drew closer.
The woman’s posture, ramrod straight in spite of her disability, struck a chord.
“Heather?” Bill said.
She ignored him and moved forward just as the woman turned.
Heather cried out.
Her shock was mirrored on the face of the woman, who stared openmouthed for a moment before she composed herself, gripping her cane more tightly.
“Hello, Heather.”
Heather stood there, frozen in silence. Bill reached her side and took her arm.
“What is it?” he murmured, his voice low, gaze shifting from the woman to Heather. “Who is this?” he added in a whisper.
“It’s …” Heather forced the words out, her mouth suddenly gone dry, her whole body trembling. “It’s my mother.”
Bill found himself at a loss. The two women stood there staring at each other until the older lady extended a withered hand to him.
“Margot Stark.”
He shook it gently and introduced himself. “I gave Heather a ride to the airport.”
Margot looked at her daughter. “Oh? Is she leaving town?”
Bill knew that this was the same woman who had walked out on Heather when she was just a child. For the life of him, he had no idea what to think about coming face-to-face with the lady now. He could tell by the emotions flooding across Heather’s face that she didn’t, either. Heather seemed incapable of making any kind of move, so he took her arm and led them to an unoccupied group of chairs. “I need to return a phone call. I’ll be right over there.”
He picked a spot where he could see them and keep an eye on the entrance at the same time. Heather didn’t look at him as he moved away. Her face was dull with shock, hands gripped into tight balls on her lap.
What would this bombshell do to her? Part of him wanted to head over and tell the woman she had some nerve dropping back in on Heather’s life as if she hadn’t destroyed her daughter decades ago. But he thought of his own sister, Leanne, and her two daughters, grown now. No matter where Kelly and Rose went, he secretly believed his nieces would never fillthe hole left by their mother’s struggle with addiction and her subsequent death.
Another death he hadn’t been able to prevent.
If they got the opportunity to put things right, wouldn’t he want them to have it? Maybe this was Heather’s chance.
Gritting his teeth, he checked his watch. The emotional drama was certainly unexpected, but it couldn’t distract him from the bigger issue. The flight left in a half hour and if he had to carry Heather over his shoulder, she would be on it, mother or no mother. He tried not to listen, but their conversation carried to him anyway.
“Why are you here now?” Heather croaked.
Margot carefully laid the cane across her knees. “I had another stroke and the paralysis left me unable to manage the stairs to my apartment, much less hold down a job. To be honest, I was having a hard time meeting the rent. I called your father’s cell phone. He said I could stay in the house if you would allow it.”
Heather shook her head and stared. “So that’s why you came back? You needed a place to live?”
“Yes. Those are the facts. You look upset. Did I say something wrong?”
Heather’s mouth worked for a moment before she answered. “Wrong? What could be wrong? There’s a deranged killer stalking me and now you show up.”
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