In The Grace of Liars

"I have an idea what it was. Give her a couple of weeks."

###

When I reached the car, Andi was sitting in the passengers seat crying. The rain was still coming down hard and heavy and slid down the windshield and windows in sheets as the storm buffeted the car. I started the car and pulled out of the parking lot before I tried to talk to her.

"Are you OK?" I asked.

"Are you kidding me? Am I OK? No, Chris! I'm pretty fucking far from OK."

"Andi, we'll figure something out. We just need time to think it through," I said, trying to calm her.

"What are we gonna do, Chris? Did you hear what he just said? You're my brother! I've been lusting after and pining over and SLEEPING WITH my brother!"

"Yes, Andi. I heard him. And as far as I'm concerned, it doesn't change a thing. It doesn't change how I feel about you and it doesn't change that I want to be with you."

Andi threw her hands up, "Chris, what about the baby? Forget about us for a second. What about our child?"

"Andi, I'm sorry. Please, calm down..." I spoke slowly in the most measured tone that I could.

"I'm not going to calm down. I think I'm pretty damn well justified in being upset right now."

I tried the carrot and it didn't work. Perhaps the stick would be more effective, I thought.

"Andi, I know you're upset but you're not the only one that just got some shocking news. I just found out that my father wasn't really my father and my mom apparently had a pretty colorful sex life. Which isn't even to mention what you're on about which affects me equally. Please. You're not the only one dealing with shit right now so can you please stop being angry with me."

Andi cried into her hands, sobbing and apologizing. "I'm sorry. I'm not angry at you. I just want to go home."

I steered the BMW carefully through the downpour back toward the camp. We rode in silence all the way home.

###

When we got back to the camp Andi dropped her purse by the door and walked to the kitchen. She drew a glass of water from the tap and stood at the sink with her head bowed. I couldn't tell if she was crying or thinking or both. We were both trying to come to terms with the things that her father... our father had told us. I won't pretend to remember what was going through my head right then but I remember feeling numb. A strange emptiness almost like how you feel after waking up from anesthesia.

I walked over to where Andi was standing and put my arms around her waist, hugging her from behind. I could feel her body tense and stiffen as my hands touched her.

"Chris, please, no."

"Andi..." I said, not moving.

"Please don't touch me right now, Chris. I need some space. I need to think," she said as she placed her hands on mine and unwound my arms from her torso. She wouldn't meet my eyes as she slid by me and headed up the stairs.

I was in agony. With everything that I had learned tonight all I wanted to do was feel something good. I wanted to hold Andi; to embrace her and feel her skin against mine. I wanted to be close to the only good thing that I knew, but even my touch it seemed was repulsive to her now. It was a body blow that knocked the wind right out of me -- along with my spirit.

I pulled down a shot glass and a bottle of whiskey from the liquor cabinet and poured myself a shot. When I knocked it back I savored the feeling of the warm liquor sliding down my throat and immediately had a second thought. Andi couldn't drink -- she was pregnant. I shouldn't be drinking either. It wasn't fair for me to have an escape but none for her. Even more depressed now, I put the top back on the bottle and walked to my bedroom.

Sleep eluded me as my brain crunched and churned and wrestled with the facts. I couldn't get over how much had changed with the knowledge that I now had. Things started to make sense; not everything but some things.

I could almost picture the scene that Uncle Dave had described. The things he didn't describe, my own mind filled in with flourishes and details drawn from the context of my memories of my mother. In my head I could almost see her face drawn tight, clutching her chest as Janice and Dave and Marjorie argued. I could almost see the panic in her eyes when her heart started beating erratically. I had seen that face before when she would have an episode and we would go straight to the hospital, Dad keeping the gas floored the whole way.

I thought of the pill bottle that I found on the bed the first night that Andi and I were here. The cap was thrown to the side and pills littered the sheets. Right where Uncle Dave left it when he opened it to get a pill for my mother.

I remembered the wine bottle and the two stained, empty glasses that sat on the island. The very same glasses that they drank from before going to the bedroom. The very same wine that almost landed Uncle Dave in jail.

I thought of my mothers purse, still sitting on the floor in the bedroom -- right where it had been left when they rushed out of the door to get to the hospital. I thought of the car in the garage, behind the closed garage door; hidden there so that no one would see her car at the camp when she should have been out of town on business.

I thought of Aunt Marjorie, crying when I pressed her for more information. They may have blamed Dave for what happened to Mom, but the court battle proved that it wasn't his fault. The autopsy proved that she died before the accident happened. It wasn't anger that I read in her reaction when I asked her what happened. It was guilt. I misread her. Surely after the facts came to light she had to think if they hadn't shown up that night -- if they hadn't confronted Mom and Dave, that Mom wouldn't have suffered the heart attack that killed her.

She and Janice had been carrying that guilt around for years. Six years it had been eating at them. Six years they hid it from me and Andi so that they didn't have to re-live that night in explaining everything and exposing themselves as the unwitting catalyst that set in motion my mothers demise. But it wasn't their fault. It wasn't anyone's fault. My mother had a heart condition. Aunt Janice was certainly justified in exposing Uncle Dave's cheating -- even if he felt like he had a good reason to cheat. She wouldn't have expected the other woman to be her own sister and probably wouldn't have known who it was when she arrived at the camp -- my mothers car being hidden in the garage as it was.

But they blamed themselves. That was the only explanation that I could think of for all the subterfuge. If they didn't feel responsible on some level they would have no reservations about telling Andi and I the whole story and yet they hid the entire fiasco and used the one little bit of information that could be blamed on a nameless faceless drunk driver to explain away the whole incident. I considered for a moment the possibility that they could be hiding it all so that Uncle Dave could save face. That theory didn't work for one reason -- Andi. If Janice cared what Andi or I thought of Uncle Dave then she wouldn't have moved away and cut off all contact with him. No, that wasn't it. This was not an act of altruism. It was an act of deception motivated by guilt.

I thought of my mother's diary. I thought of the long and detailed account of her failing health and her resignation to whatever fate would come to her by electing to forgo the surgery that her doctors advised. If my mother's death was anyone's fault... it was her own.

Eventually I drifted off to sleep. I dreamed again that night. The same dream that I had before. Again, I saw my mother planting the Erica shrubs around the perimeter of the house; Aunt Marjorie inside cooking while my father lay on the couch dozing; The odd hazy colors surrounding each one of us. I woke up at the same time as before and just as before I was sweating and out of breath from the balls-out sprint to the end of the pier.

###

When I woke the next morning Andi was making breakfast on the stove and the coffee pot was spitting and hissing the last drops of hot coffee into it's decanter. I poured myself a cup and rubbed the fog of sleep from my eyes before pouring a matching cup for Andi.

"Good morning," I croaked as I set the steaming cup next to the stove.

"Not so much," she replied, pushing a mass of already overcooked scrambled eggs around the pan on the stove.

"Did you sleep?" I asked.

"Not so much," she repeated.

I sipped my coffee and watched her as she absently prodded the yellow mound that was starting to emit the faint but unmistakable scent of burnt eggs. I set my coffee down and reached over her. Andi offered no resistance as I gently removed the spatula from her right hand and the handle of the frying pan from her left. I moved the pan to another burner and turned off the stove and looked back at Andi.

She looked at me from tired eyes and an expression that I knew preceded her impending tears. I couldn't help it. I ignored her plea from the previous night and silently prayed that she wouldn't react the same way as I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close to me. For a fraction of an instant I felt her stiffen and then her body relaxed. She put her arms around my back and held me in a desperate embrace as she broke down crying.

I gently stroked her hair and softly shushed her. "It's going to be OK," I said without any confidence whatever that it would.

"I'm sorry about last night Chris," she said into my chest.

"There's nothing to forgive," I said, holding her tightly to me.

"I shouldn't have pushed you away. You needed me and I cut you off. I'm sorry."

"We both had a lot to take in last night Andi. It's OK."

"Chris, I'm so scared," she said after several minutes. "What if our baby has two heads or something?" she asked. It was a ridiculous question but I understood what she meant.

"Our baby is not going to have two heads. It's going to be beautiful and it's going to be loved and if it's lucky it'll look just like it's momma."

"I love you, Chris."

"Andi, as far as I'm concerned nothing has changed. I don't care what the world thinks of us. I love us. I couldn't live without you." I was struck by what I was saying to her. The thought of a brother and sister... well... it wasn't something that I had given much thought before. Outwardly the idea was repulsive to me but for some reason I just didn't see us that way. I didn't think of Andi as a sister and the thought of being without her was far more offensive to me than anything else -- even with the knowledge that her father had given us the night before.

We stood in the kitchen holding each other until Andi stopped crying. Eventually I guided her over to the island and sat her down with her cup of coffee while I disposed of her failed attempt at breakfast and started in on my own. She fingered the lip of her coffee cup and stared at the counter top as I worked. By the time I had some edible eggs prepared along with two slices of toast, her coffee had gone cold so I poured her a new one.

"You gonna drink this one or stare at it until it ices over like the last one?"

Andi smirked at me and took a sip of the coffee in the first display of her brighter side since I'd entered the kitchen.

"You're a shit sometimes," she said.

"It's one of my better qualities. I've been working on it for years," I said, grinning at her to try to coax a smile from her tear streaked face. It worked but it was short lived.

"I need to talk to Mom," she said as she made a half-hearted attempt to spear a glob of egg with her fork.

"Talk to her, or yell at her? " I asked.

"I don't have to yell at her," she said. "When she finds out that I'm pregnant..."

I nodded, understanding what she meant.

"I want you to come with me. I don't want to do this alone."

"Sure. Whatever you need," I said.

"I want to find out about that picture we found too. We left so fast last night, I didn't have a chance to ask Dad."

"YOU left so fast," I corrected her. "Your dad is worried about you. You should call him."

"I will," she said. "That wasn't the reunion I was hoping for."

"I'm sure it wasn't what he had in mind either."

###

I cleaned up our dishes from breakfast while Andi got cleaned up and dressed. An hour later we were out the door and headed to her mothers house. It had been several months since Andi had seen her mother, having been in a fight the last time visited. When we got there her mother was surprised to see me but she gave me a hug and a big smile. I confess, I was really very happy to see her face again after so long. She looked a lot like my mother and her smile always brought back memories of my mom's face.

"Come in, you two. What a nice surprise. Marjie told me that you two were living together at the camp but I didn't figure I'd see you this soon."

We sat at the dining room table where Aunt Janice was working on something on her laptop. She slid it aside after hitting a few keys and folding the screen down. "So what's going on? Are you two all settled in?"

"Yeah, Mom. We're all set up," Andi said, doing her best to keep her polite face on.

A moment of silence passed between us and tension hung in the air like a fog. Finally, Andi reached for her purse and pulled out the picture. Without speaking she slid it across the table in front of her Mother.

Aunt Janice's eyes went wide and her mouth opened in surprise. "Oh my God, Andi! I haven't seen this picture for years. I thought it was lost. Where did you find it?" she asked.

"It was behind another picture on the wall at the camp," Andi responded quickly but I could tell that she was keeping her tone in check. "So apparently I have a sibling that I didn't know about?"

Janice put her hand over her mouth and looked down at the picture. Briefly she looked up at Andi, and then to me. "No, sweetheart. You don't."

"Mom, you're lying to me," she said, still doing her best to keep the emotion out of her voice.

Janice shook her head. "No." She took a deep breath and cleared her throat before holding up the picture. "This would have been your older sister, if you want to look at it that way. Her name was Erica, as you can see from the writing on the back." Janice turned the picture and looked at it again. "She was still-born."

"You never told me," Andi said.

Janice nodded. "I know. We never talked about it. It was very painful for me, Andi. It was a very tough pregnancy. You can't know what it's like to carry a child for nine months, knowing something might be wrong..."

Andi flinched, hearing those last words. A single tear slid down her cheek but her tone remained steady and measured as she spoke. "Mom, you're still lying to me."

"Andi, no. I'm not lying to you sweetheart, that's what happened."

"Not about that. I do have a sibling, don't I?"

Janice blanched as she stared in stunned, open mouthed shock as she looked at Andi but said nothing.

"I talked to Dad last night. He told me about Chris. He told me about how Aunt Terri got pregnant."

Janice deflated and breathed a sigh. She almost looked relieved as she spoke. "Yes. Yes, that's true. But no, Andi, Chris is not your brother. From the time we first talked about it we all always agreed that Dave would be Chris's Uncle. By the time you came along, everyone understood that you two would be cousins. As you got older you spent so much time together that you may as well have been brother and sister, but you're not."

Andi pounded her hand on the table, no longer trying to control her anger. "But we ARE! We share a father! YOU never told us, none of you did!"

"Andi, I don't understand. You've known Chris you're whole life, it's not like you two don't have a relationship. You're best friends." Janice was clearly confused by Andi's anger.

"You're right. You don't understand. You never told us, Mom. You never told us and now something terrible has happened and it's because you never told us!"

"Andi, what?" Janice was crying now too, frightened by her daughters sudden and furious attacks.

"Mom, I'm pregnant. We didn't know that we were brother and sister and we... I'm pregnant!"

Janice sucked in a breath and covered her mouth with her hands. "Andi... Oh Andi... that's what this is about?" Janice got up and walked around the table to stand near her daughter. "Andi, you're worried about your baby? Is that it?" she asked.

Andi didn't speak, only nodded as Aunt Janice knelt in front of Andi, taking her hands. "Sweetheart, your baby is going to be fine."

"How can you say that Mom? How can you know?" she asked, through her tears.

Janice smiled at Andi and tilted her head. "My sweet, beautiful Andi... From the first day I saw you I loved you more than I can ever say. Your eyes were bright blue and you clenched your little hands so tight when you cried and I couldn't help myself... I picked you up and fell in love. And that very same day we started the adoption process."

"What?" Andi asked.

"Yes, sweetheart. You're adopted."

Andi sat up straighter in her chair, a sudden glimmer of hope shown in her eyes. "Chris and I aren't related at all?" she asked.

Janice shook her head, smiling. "Not by blood. But I've never seen a more clear cut case of kindred spirits."

Andi looked at me, that glimmer of hope blossoming into full on elation. Then she looked down at her mother and threw her arms around her neck. They hugged for a while, mother and daughter crying and laughing into each others shoulders. Some were tears of joy, others tears of relief. Eventually Janice broke the embrace and pulled a chair up closer to Andi and sat next to her. The energy in the room had gone from very tense and negative to joyful and positive.

"Aunt Janice?" I spoke for the first time since sitting down at the table.

"Yes, Chris?" she replied.

"Can I ask you kind of a strange question?"

Janice heaved a sigh. "I guess just about anything is on the table now," she said.

"Those shrubs, the ones that go all the way around the cabin at the camp..."

Janice's brows pinched together as she waited for me to finish. Andi also regarded me with an inquisitive look.

"What are they called?" I asked.

"So odd that you would ask me that, Chris. Of all things..." She paused a moment and then answered my question. "They're called Erica."

I nodded as she confirmed what I had heard in my dream. "Mom planted them for you, didn't she?"

"Chris how could you know that? You were barely two when she did that."

I shrugged my shoulders -- not sure how to explain that I had seen it in a dream.

"She planted those maybe a week after we brought Andi home. She wanted to do something for me. I never really got over losing the baby and she planted those in honor of her. It was a lovely gesture but just the kind of thing that your mom used to do. Every time I saw those flowers bloom it warmed my heart."

"They bloom?" Andi asked.

"They used to," she said. "I used drive by the camp twice a year just to see them in bloom. You know... after Terri died they stopped blooming? It always made me sad that they stopped, but I always thought it a bit poetic, you know?"

I nodded. I had no idea that those drab little spindly bushes bloomed but I could take her word for it.

"You know, Chris, there's something else about the day your mother planted those. I don't know if anyone has ever told you this but it was that very same day that you spoke your very first words. Shocked the hell out of your Mom. We were all worried that you had some kind of speech problem. You were two years old and hadn't even made the first attempt at talking. Anyway, that day you gave her quite a scare, taking off at full speed down to the end of the pier. By the time she caught up to you, she said you looked at her and in a voice that was just as clear as day you told her you loved her. Not in baby talk either. You said, 'I love you Mom' just as if you had been talking for years. From that day forward you were speaking in complete sentences."