If Anything Should Happen Read online

  ‘So how’d you do it?’ I shoved the glasses into my hair, no longer caring that they could see my tears. ‘Where do you go to buy a newborn?’

  Mick looked at Richard, who nodded. ‘I think an attorney handled it,’ Mick said. ‘We signed papers. It just wasn’t a legal adoption.’

  I still couldn’t process this news. The idea of being purchased like a sack of flour was more than I could handle. ‘How much?’ I demanded. ‘A hundred? Five hundred? A grand?’

  ‘Twenty, I think,’ he choked out. ‘Twenty thousand.’

  It sounded like a lot, which made me feel even worse. Apparently, I didn’t feel I was worth as much as a moderately priced automobile. ‘And my birth certificate?’

  ‘I don’t know, honey.’

  ‘What about my name?’ I moved closer and forced him into eye contact. ‘Was I really named after a great aunt, or was that a lie too?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ he said. ‘I’m really not. And Kit, Richard’s right. You need and deserve to know anything I can tell you about your life. I’ll answer any question you have from here on out.’

  A decision he should have made more than twenty years ago. I needed to call Tamera and let her know what I’d found out. I needed to research how people bought babies, back when I was born, and maybe I should even consider writing another post for my blog. Most of all, I need to cry.

  ‘Thank you for this information.’ I said it as if speaking to a stranger. All I could think of was getting away from this man who had lied to me my entire life, and from Richard, who had left me, and had then decided to try talking my dad into sharing some version of the truth. ‘I’ll need some time to digest all this.’

  ‘I understand, Kit,’ Mick said. ‘Richard and I will be going now. You just let me know when you want to talk again.’

  ‘Kit, wait.’ Richard took off his glasses. ‘Could we discuss this for a minute? Alone?’

  I hated that he and Farley had heard Mick’s confession. Even more, I hated that I felt ashamed and embarrassed, as if this family secret were somehow my fault.

  I shook my head. ‘It will have to be later, Richard. I don’t want to talk to anyone right now.’ I looked directly at Mick.

  Slowly, he turned. After a moment, so did Richard. I watched as they walked down the sidewalk, blurred watercolor shapes through my tears.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  My parents had paid for me. I couldn’t deal with that much more now than I had been able to when Mick informed me of the fact. Another couple was ‘behind’ them, he’d said. What would have happened if they had come up with the twenty thousand before Mick and my mom had? My history would be different, but maybe not as dishonest as it had been until now. Yet my family’s secrets were minor compared to what I now suspected the Brantinghams were hiding.

  I couldn’t put off what I had to do, regardless of what it cost me. Yes, I had told Scott I wouldn’t contact Carla or her family without his permission, but nothing he or anyone else said would stop me now.

  I found Carla trying on dresses at the bridal store where her assistant had told me that Carla and her mother were shopping for her parents’ renewal of wedding vows. A narrow shop lined with more merchandise than square feet, it ended at a wall of mirrors with a curtained dressing room on each side. Bette Brantingham sat in a moss-green wing chair. A flute of champagne along with a silver platter of cheeses gleamed on the round glass table. The platter appeared untouched. The flute needed refilling.

  Just then, a brunette who must have been in charge of arranging this little tableau appeared with a full bottle.

  ‘Refill?’ she asked in the perpetually cheerful voice of one who catered to the rich. Bubbles fizzed into the glass.

  ‘Lovely. Thank you.’

  The brunette turned from her toward the dressing room. ‘Do you need any help?’ she called out. Clearly, she was not addressing Bette, who had already clutched the glass in her French manicured nails.

  ‘I’m fine.’ Carla joined them in front of the mirrors in a fitted pink dress, part prom queen, part sex kitten. She frowned and put on a matching sequin jacket. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Very pretty,’ Bette said, ‘isn’t it, Monique?’

  ‘Beautiful,’ the saleswoman gushed.

  I cleared my throat, and they turned toward me. Pressed by lace and ruffles on all sides, I felt even more claustrophobic as Carla marched toward me.

  ‘Whatever you need, it could have waited,’ she whispered. Her shoulder-length helmet of yellow-blond hair didn’t move.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘If I could wait, I would have.’

  ‘Carla,’ Bette called from the wing chair. ‘Is everything all right?’

  ‘It’s fine, Mama. Why don’t you and Monique look at a gown for you? Kit and I need to talk for just a moment.’

  ‘Hurry back. We have work to do, don’t we, Monique?’

  ‘Indeed we do.’ The brunette lifted the bottle of champagne once more.

  Still wearing the pink dress, Carla walked ahead of me to the front of the shop, where the forest of white dresses grew even thicker and seemed to close in on us.

  ‘Mind if we step outside?’ I asked.

  ‘Not a bad idea.’

  We went out into the relatively fresh air. Carla inhaled deeply, as if taking a drag of a cigarette. ‘This had better be good,’ she said.

  ‘I wish it were,’ I told her.

  ‘What then? And please make it fast.’

  ‘I spoke with your father,’ I said. ‘As you know.’

  She gave me a bitter smile. ‘And yet here you are doing what you were told not to do.’

  ‘He was under the impression that Alex returned from that place you sent him to after one week and with no desire or at least no willingness to move forward as the person he truly was.’

  ‘Perhaps Dad needs to believe that for now,’ she said.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because he’s old, and he doesn’t need any more heartbreak.’

  ‘And Alex?’ I felt as if I were spitting out the words. ‘Why would you want to do that to him?’

  ‘Alex is dead,’ she said. ‘Can you imagine what that did to my parents? To my mother?’ She glanced back inside, where I imagined Bette lifting her glass yet one more time, her eyes blurring against a future she didn’t want to comprehend and a past she didn’t dare to remember.

  ‘I’m sure it hurt them,’ I replied. ‘And I’m sure it hurt you as well.’

  ‘I’m the resilient one.’ She squared her shoulders in the pink monstrosity and stood even straighter, as if to make her point. ‘I always have been.’

  Another time, I would have believed her. Another time, I had believed her.

  ‘He was your brother, Carla.’

  ‘My best friend.’ She nodded. ‘Alex meant the world to me. I miss him every day.’

  ‘Yet you convinced your dad to send him to conversion whatever-you-call-it therapy. You paid for more treatments your father didn’t know about, didn’t you?’

  She lifted her chin, but said nothing.

  ‘Do you deny it?’

  She shrugged and glared at me. ‘Go on.’

  ‘You say he meant the world to you, yet you subjected him to horrendous treatment. And you lied to your father about it.’

  ‘I’m devoted to my family,’ she said. ‘The more I learn about you, Kit, the more I realize how unqualified you are to examine and bring to light stories about victims like my brother.’

  ‘Why are you really trying to hide the truth?’ I stepped back and took in the whole of her, every artificial, tragic detail. ‘And why are you willing to let an innocent man be prosecuted for a crime he didn’t commit?’

  She took a step toward me, and then apparently thought better of it. In spite of the heavy make-up, her skin was the color of chalk. ‘I’ve had enough,’ she said.

  ‘So have I. Is your public image that important to you? Or is it the election?’

  ‘You’re delusional.
’ She flounced to the glass door, where her reflection shimmered.

  ‘Take a look at that and tell me who’s delusional,’ I said.

  She gasped and hurried inside, and I knew I had stirred the proverbial hornet’s nest. She could buy prom-queen-from-hell gowns. Her parents could renew their wedding vows. But now, at least, she was aware that someone knew that her concern about Alex’s murder was really just a cover-up of his orientation so that she could continue to run for office on her family values platform.

  When I arrived home, I spotted Farley parked outside my house. We hadn’t spoken after that humiliating moment with Mick and Richard, and it wasn’t like him to just show up unannounced.

  I got out of my car and ran around to the driver’s window, which was down, as it always was on any day with even bearable temperatures.

  ‘I’ve been waiting for you,’ he said, and we hugged.

  Then he took off his dark glasses, and I saw his eyes.

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘I haven’t been able to settle down,’ he said. ‘So I decided to check back with one of our interview subjects.’

  ‘Which one?’ I asked.

  ‘Jerry. I went back there.’ He started the car. ‘It’s worse than we thought, Kit.’

  ‘I can’t imagine anything worse than what we thought,’ I said once we were on our way.

  Farley didn’t answer.

  Finally, I asked, ‘Where are we heading?’

  ‘Jerry doesn’t want to talk where anyone can overhear,’ he said and pulled off the freeway. ‘There are a bunch of storefront restaurants over here by the bank. The area behind is more like a park.’

  Farley still seemed stiff, and I knew he was holding back something. That wasn’t like the guy I knew, whose life mantra seemed to be ‘what you see is what you get’.

  The area wasn’t the little mall of restaurants I had pictured. It was small storefronts, many of them vacant, with sun-proof glass and names like Mr Pickle and Pita Man. The area between them, the bank, and a museum of some kind wasn’t a park either. Yet, on a webbed chair in a shaded grassy area, holding a paper cup of coffee, sat Jerry.

  His dark hair had been shaved to the skull, making his square jaw and large eyes even more prominent. In khaki shorts and T-shirt, he could be mistaken for a college student, except for the pain in his expression, even when he tried to smile.

  I pulled up the only remaining lawn chair, and Farley squatted beside me.

  ‘How much did you tell her?’ Jerry asked him.

  Farley shook his head. ‘That’s your job, man.’

  For the first time, he seemed to genuinely smile. ‘Well, you do know that Farley popped in on me unexpectedly, correct?’

  ‘Right,’ I said.

  ‘He made me realize I have to tell the truth to someone, and he convinced me that someone is you.’

  ‘Go on,’ Farley said.

  ‘Well, Kit,’ he said. ‘I owe it to Alex to tell you some things.’

  ‘And those things are?’

  He glanced back to Farley, and then met my eyes reluctantly. ‘The treatment didn’t work on me.’

  ‘Because it’s not treatment,’ I said.

  ‘They mean well.’

  ‘Are you kidding? Camps like that aren’t even legal in this state.’

  ‘But they believe what they’re doing.’ He forced a smile. ‘They’re the first to admit that they don’t have a perfect success rate. I guess I fall into that other percentage.’

  ‘Because you’re normal, Jerry,’ I said. ‘You do know that, don’t you?’

  ‘This isn’t about me,’ he said. ‘It’s about Alex. I lied to you before. We were both having problems being cured.’

  ‘Neither of you needed curing.’ I knew he didn’t hear me, but tried anyway.

  ‘Alex’s problems were different than mine. He was already in love when they brought him there.’

  I nodded. ‘With Luis Vang.’

  ‘That’s right. Sometimes I pretended to the others, just because I was so miserable. I can’t explain it, only that it almost felt better to act like I was this way because I loved someone, not because something was wrong with me.’

  ‘What did they do to you?’ I asked.

  ‘They tried to help. They …’

  Farley shot to his feet. ‘Tell her the truth.’

  ‘I can’t even think about it.’

  ‘Did they beat you?’ I knew nowhere else to begin.

  He seemed to stare into space, into a situation I could not see. ‘It’s about self-control. In order to stay strong, you have to learn control, how to resist temptation. I did try, and so did Alex. I know he did.’

  ‘You’re avoiding my question,’ I said. ‘What did they do to you?’

  ‘It was tough.’ He glanced down at his empty cup, or maybe just his feet. ‘Alex and I got the tests at the same time. We needed to control our impulses.’

  ‘Farley?’ I asked.

  ‘Jerry didn’t tell me this part,’ he replied.

  ‘Because I can’t.’

  ‘Because you’re ashamed?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes.’ Tears filled his eyes. ‘Fuck, yes, I’m ashamed. Alex got through it, and I didn’t.’

  ‘The so-called acclimation films?’ I asked.

  He shook his head. ‘They were easy compared to the body wrap.’

  I glanced over at Farley and realized this was clearly as new to him as it was to me.

  ‘I read a little bit about it,’ I said.

  ‘Did what you read say that they wrap those wet sheets around you until you feel like a mummy and then let them dry on you?’

  Nothing I had read was at all that direct. ‘That’s suppression and torture, Alex.’

  ‘It is supposed to help you conquer urges and grow stronger. Only third-weekers get it.’

  ‘Third-weekers?’ I felt so sick that I could barely meet his eyes, where he could barely hide what had been done to him.

  ‘Those of us who fail the first tries. If those who care for you can afford it, they send you back.’

  ‘Why did you go along with it?’

  ‘I told you before about my family, that I’m the only son. They have money, and I’m supposed to pass along the name and everything that goes with it.’

  I didn’t bother trying to tell him he could do that as a gay father. I just wanted to let him know there was nothing wrong with him.

  ‘First, you have to be who you are.’ A few yards from us, the freeway noises drowned out my words, but I knew he heard me. ‘Your family is in denial,’ I said. ‘They are the ones who aren’t normal.’ His eyes brightened for a moment, so I pressed on. ‘You didn’t fail the test. The test failed you.’

  ‘I really wanted to be OK.’ He looked away, and then back at me. ‘I’m just not.’

  ‘Please don’t believe that about yourself,’ I told him. ‘Just as they have fake cure places like the one you and Alex went to, there are caring people who can help you open up instead of shut down.’

  ‘I’m a lost cause.’ He drained his coffee and sat the cup on the ground. ‘I hope what I told you today helps Alex’s family, because nothing I do now will help mine.’

  ‘You actually went willingly to this torture?’ I asked.

  ‘Of course not.’ His eyes widened. His smile could be that of a child. ‘We soon realized that they meant the best, though.’

  ‘If you didn’t go willingly,’ I asked, ‘how did you get there?’

  ‘How does anyone go where they don’t want to go?’ His eyes gleamed with unshed tears. ‘You’re out walking one day. Or, like Alex, you’re playing tennis. Someone taps you on the shoulder. You turn around and realize there are other someones standing behind them.’

  I felt myself jerk from my chair. ‘You were kidnapped?’

  ‘Goes with the territory.’ He spoke slowly, as if trying to explain a term to someone who didn’t speak the language. ‘That’s how we say it in treatment.’

  TWENTY-SIX


  Rena woke slowly, and for a moment, she thought she was still struggling to get to her feet. But, no. She was in a bed now, not sprawled on the ground. Her skin was chilled, and she remembered occasional words and images from her fitful nightmares. She could hear her name spoken in a whisper that turned into a hiss. She saw the snake, fifteen inches, maybe longer, the four rattles on his tail. She felt the strike, her fall, the dirt in her mouth.

  Her sandals, she thought, her silly sandals. As she eased into consciousness, the shadows dimmed, and she saw Leighton’s face, the young Leighton from high school, his blazing, determined eyes, and his taffy-colored hair curling around his ears. This was a guy determined to escape his world, regardless of what stood in his path.

  ‘Leighton.’ She forced the word through numb lips. ‘I can’t feel anything.’

  ‘You’re going to be fine, Rena. We took you to the emergency room.’ His voice sounded as if he were speaking through fabric. ‘I kept your foot in an ice bath, and they think the venom didn’t travel any farther.’

  ‘But my hands.’ She didn’t know how to describe the numbness that had overtaken her whole body. ‘My fingers. Where did you get the ice?’

  ‘It’s all right. They gave you the anti-venom. You’re going to get to go home.’

  Home. She closed her eyes. Home. No, she wasn’t going anywhere. She was going to die. Just like that woman out there in the desert.

  She jerked with a gasp. ‘The woman, Leighton,’ she said. ‘There was a woman in the bushes.’

  ‘Stay calm.’

  She saw the blur of his hand move to her shoulder, but still she felt nothing. ‘I know I’m not making it up. You have to go back there. You have to try to help her.’

  ‘Easy,’ he said, and she felt the pressure now.

  ‘I mean it. You’ve got to go back there.’ She could feel her heartbeats, and she could begin to smell the medicinal room.

  ‘You’re coming out of it, I can tell. You rest. Then we’ll take you home. We can talk about it on the way.’

  That wasn’t good enough. She had to know at least that one thing. She had to know about the woman in the bushes. Light edged out the shadows of the room. She heard a voice growing louder in volume.