Chapter Thirty-Five

Callie:

What did I like to do? What was I good at? Those were the questions the visiting speaker had for us in Creative Writing. Mr. Chase brought in a woman who was supposed to help us figure out what we might want to do in life.

Surfing. That's the only thing I came up with, and she looked at me like I was a little nuts. Yes, I knew I wasn't going to surf for a career. I wasn't good enough to be a professional.

I liked to write - something I'd found out first semester and kept doing when I had the time. I was even kind of good at it. Once again - not exactly a legit career choice. She'd asked if I knew how many writers never made it.

Plus, there was the whole college thing to consider. I wasn't going.

After that, I came up blank.

Beside me, Morgan was chattering away about all the things she could see herself doing.

I stuck my hand in my backpack, running my fingertips over the now familiar picture. That was what I wanted.

The last month of senior year was a little pointless. There were no exams to prepare for. No homework to be done. Our senior projects were turned in last week. It was just a whole lot of waiting.

That's why I had no problem with leaving after my first class. Okay, it wasn't like I'd had issues with it before, but now it felt different.

I didn't text Jamie to ditch with me. No, today I had a mission. It'd been over a month since Colby and I found the picture. I wanted answers.

The diner was now closed on Mondays, so I hoped I'd find Kat at home.

She looked up from her coffee when I pulled open the door.

“Hi, sweetie, what are you doing home?”

I marched toward the table and slapped the picture down.

It took a moment for the image to register with her. “Where did you find this?” She lifted it gingerly to get a better look.

I didn't answer her question. “That's our dad, isn't it?”

“Yes.” Thickness clouded her voice. “That's Asher.”

“Asher?” I demanded. “Then who the hell is E?” I turned the picture over to show her the writing on the back.

She sighed. “There's so much you don't know.”

“And whose fault is that?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Yours and mom's.”

“Don't you dare blame this on her.”

“She never told us anything.”

“You were a kid when she died,” Kat yelled. Squeezing her eyes shut, she sighed. “You're still a kid.” Opening her eyes, she stared at me in sadness. “If I tell you, you're going to go. I know you, Cal. And your mom didn't want you in that life.”

“Go where? What life?”

“California.” She stood up slowly. “Come on.”

I followed her into her room. She stepped into her closet, returning a moment later with a small box. Setting it on the bed, she gestured for me to take a seat.

“Callie, you have to promise me you won't judge your mom too harshly.”

“Why?”

“Promise me.”

“It won't make me stop loving her if that's what you mean.”

She sighed. “I guess that'll have to be good enough.”

She lifted the lid off the box and took out a stack of news clippings and pictures. Sliding the first one across to me, she said, “To start, this was your mom.”

The headline read Emma Bay Lands the Role of a Lifetime.

“Emma Bay?” My heart pounded in my ears as I recognized the young girl in the picture.

“That was her Hollywood name.” Kat sat next to me. “I was so proud when she was cast in her first role. I told everyone my sister was going to be a big star.”

“Was she?”

A tear leaked from the corner of her eye as she nodded. I picked up the next few press clippings, each about a girl named Emma Bay who was the darling of Hollywood.

My mom? A movie star?

“She met Asher Hendrick during a movie when she was playing a surf whiz. Her favorite kind of role.”

Asher Hendrick. A name for the face. A niggling sense of recognition bit at me.

“Asher was the son of a studio owner.”

“Wait a second,” I stopped her, my head spinning. “The Asher Hendrick. Hendrick's Productions. Everyone knows him.”

Kat nodded, watching me warily. “That's him. Cal, I need to get this story out before my better judgment stops me.”

“No more interruptions. Got it.”

“Asher was wild. Irresponsible. And your mother loved him completely. He took her down a dark path that is so easy to find in that town. The drinking. The drugs. Then one night they were out at a club. A man was quite aggressive with your mom. Asher was the jealous type, the angry type.”

“The fight didn't last long because Asher was on something, crazed. The man almost died, and Asher was arrested.”

“Oh my gosh.” I covered my mouth.

Kat continued. “Asher's father was a dangerous man. He controlled much of what went on in that town, but this was something he couldn't fix. Asher only got a few months, but his father blamed your mom, the great Emma Bay. He started working against her to ruin her career, spreading nasty things around Hollywood and putting pressure on the studios who were producing her current movies. She was a determined woman and took everything he threw at her. Then he tried to force her out another way; to scare her, make her run.”

“So, he had his thugs show up at her place, smashing a window to break in. They held her at gunpoint. It worked. Emma Bay disappeared from Hollywood and Allison McCoy showed back up in Gulf City, a new look, old name, and newly pregnant.”

“When Asher got out of prison a few months later, he tried to use the media to find her, but she was gone.”

She grew quiet. I blew out a long breath, trying to calm myself as I watched the tears roll freely down Kat's face. Had I even known my mother at all? She was this whole other person that had nothing to do with Allison McCoy.

“So, he didn't even know we existed? She didn't tell him? You didn't?”

“Oh, honey.” Kat pulled me into a hug. “It was your mother's wish. That was a life she didn't want you anywhere near. She loved him desperately, but she loved you more.”

I sat up, rubbing at my eyes furiously. “He doesn't know.” I was repeating myself, but it was the only thing I could think of to say as everything I thought I knew about my life was put into question. He hadn't left us.

Then I thought of the phone conversation I overheard. “If he didn't know about us, then who is sending us money?”

She smiled sadly. “Your mother left quite a bit for you in a trust. I've had to use some of it over the years to pay the bills but wanted to leave it there for you when you needed it. It's been her taking care of us all along. I was going to tell you all of this after graduation.”

“How am I supposed to believe that?” I asked. “You should've told us before now.”

She hung her head. “I know.”

I climbed to my feet. “I love you Kat, but I don't know if I trust a thing you say right now. You or mom.”

With that, I slammed her door behind me, ran outside and started walking with no set destination in mind.

* * *

I wandered the beach for hours, staring out at the calm waters that didn't even have the decency to rise up to meet my mood. What was my mood? I didn't know how to feel, how to act, what to think. It was all too much.

Clenching my fists at my sides, I kicked at the sand, the toe of my shoe flinging it wide. The grains caught in the wind, some blowing back on me but others scattering. How was there wind, but no waves? It didn't make any freaking sense.

My mind tried to grab onto those unimportant threads, but they slipped through, dragging my focus back to the subject I wanted to avoid.

Lowering myself to the sand, I pulled out the news clipping I'd taken from Kat's room. Mom couldn't have been more than a few years older than me and Colby. She looked… different. Her hair was bleached blond, hanging over her shoulders in perfectly styled waves. It was a far cry from the honey pixie cut I'd known her with. Her eyes in the picture were blue instead of amber. It had to be contacts. Was any of it real?

What if it was? That'd mean the woman I'd known was the impostor.

My arms jerked forward, ripping the clipping in half, then ripping it again. I threw the pieces before burying my face in my arms.

Someone bent down to pick up the pieces, defeated eyes looking up to meet mine.

I choked on a sob as my brother sat beside me. We'd both lost mom when we were young, both grown up without a father, but we hadn't gone through it together. Not really. This time it was different. It had to be. I didn't think I could do it on my own.

Colby shoved the pieces of the newly revealed secret in his pocket and sat beside me.

“Kat told you.” It was more of a statement of fact than a question.

“Right when I got home from school,” he said.

“At least we know.”

He slung his arm over my shoulders, and I was twelve years old again. “I think I'd rather be kept in the dark.”

“Me too.”

Neither of us wanted to talk about it. Our mom. Our dad. Secrets. So, we didn't say anything more at all.

Since the shooting, we'd known anything could happen. Our lives could be turned upside down. Here we were, living proof of that. And we'd get through it. We always did.

I leaned my head on my twin brother's shoulder, knowing that this secret was going to take me away from everything and everyone I loved.

Maybe mom had known that to. Maybe she just wanted me to be ready.