The Stranger she Knew by Gayle Wilson

Author:Gayle Wilson
Language: eng
Format: epub

Chapter Eight

"Ready?" Jordan called, his voice coming from somewhere at the front of the trailer, echoing a little down the dark, narrow hall that led to the bedrooms.

As ready as I ever am for this, Kathleen thought, taking one last look around the children's bedroom. The beds were stripped, the closet standing open, the drawers of the small chest emptied of their few belongings. Her eyes made a slow and careful survey, determined not to forget anything of Meg's and Jamie's.

And when she spotted what she had forgotten, she was glad she had made that last effort. On the shelf at the top of the closet, barely visible, was a touch of red. It was the foot of Meg's old Raggedy Ann.

Kathleen's mother had made the doll shortly before her death. It had been part of Meg's gifts the Christmas before Rob's disappearance. For a long time her daughter had slept with Ann, but now she was simply part of the emotional baggage they carried around with them.

Still, it wouldn't do to leave her behind, Kathleen thought, walking over to the closet and reaching up, stretching on tiptoe, to pull the soft, familiar body off the high shelf. For just a second, she unconsciously hugged the limp form, drawing comfort from this tangible connection to her own safe childhood—one of the last things her mother had made with her own hands. Kathleen glanced up to find Jordan standing in the open doorway, watching her.

"I think that's everything," she said softly, a little embarrassed to have him see her clutching the doll.

He nodded, his eyes dropping to the disreputable rag baby she held. "Meg's?" he asked unnecessarily.

Kathleen smiled, thinking that this was probably as much her talisman now as her daughter's. Meg had moved on to more sophisticated toys. Kathleen was the one who would have missed this most if it had been left behind.

"My mother made it," she said by way of explanation,

He nodded again, his gray eyes coming back quickly to her face. "You okay?''

It had been so long since anyone besides the children had evinced concern for her feelings or for her well-being that his question caught her off guard. And his interest was sincere, she realized, judging by what was in both his eyes and his voice.

She wondered again how she could have thought this man was Rob. There were so many things that were dissimilar, including the timbre of his voice. It was deeper than her husband's had been. Even the Southern accent was subtly different.

"I'm okay," she said softly. "Just...eager to go and yet so sorry to disrupt them again. I know how much Meg was looking forward to the play."

"Maybe it's possible—" he began, before she cut him off.

"No," she said. "No, it's not possible. I'd never forgive myself if I made that decision and as a result..." She swallowed, unable to express the unrelenting horror of the rest. "I can live with this if I have to," she said. "I couldn't live even one more day with.

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