Page 52 of Before the Storm

Beyond Josie’s shoulder was the window, and beyond that window was a woman in a black dress, standing with her arms crossed, her chin up as she watched the storm clouds roll toward her. Her gray hair whipped around ominously.

Even from behind, Tara knew this was her mother.

Josie followed Tara’s gaze to see Cindy out the window. Droplets of rain pelted the glass. But Cindy gave no sign of leaving the backyard any time soon. It seemed she wanted to get swept away.

This was the woman who’d abandoned them.

But this woman now stood outside all alone.

She had no one.

She was just like past versions of Tara.

Suddenly, Tara bolted to the door, opened it, and hurried into the rain. Josie was right behind her, so Tara slowed to take her hand. They walked up behind their mother slowly to avoidfrightening her and stopped a few feet behind. Tara’s throat swelled. It occurred to her that their mother might turn around and not recognize them.That would hurt worse than anything, Tara thought.

Thunder rocketed the evening sky. Cindy flinched as though she’d been daydreaming, then turned on her heel to face the house. When she saw Tara and Josie standing before her, she froze again. A look of wonder and fear crept over her face.

“Tara? Josie?” she stuttered.

And then she was suddenly on her knees in the mud and grass.

Tara and Josie hurried to help her up, with Tara doing most of the work and batting Josie away. The woman with her knees on the ground was in her sixties, and her face had aged incredibly due to distress and sorrow. But she was still every bit the Cindy Tara remembered from twenty-four years ago. She was still her mother.

Cindy sobbed and then wrapped her arms around Josie’s and Tara’s shoulders. Bits of mud got on Tara’s pants.

“I don’t know what to say?” Cindy rasped. “I don’t know what to say?”

“Let’s get you inside,” Tara said.

Tara and Josie led Cindy to the back door and into the living room. Three mourners got up to clear the sofa for them. They looked at Josie and Tara confusedly. Had Cindy or Bob ever mentioned them before? Had they ever told anyone they’d had a whole other life—with children? Tara hurried into the kitchen to grab a rag for Cindy’s knees and made eye contact with several sets of curious eyes. They seemed to ask,Who are you? What’s all this commotion?

Tara returned to the living room with a wet rag and a raggedly beating heart. It was showtime. Cindy was already on the sofa next to Josie, and Tara sat on the other side of theirmother and tried to use the rag on her mother’s tights. Cindy was too distracted to care. She turned her head back and forth to look at them. “My girls?” she whispered. “How did you find me?”

Tara blinked back tears. She didn’t know what to say.

“My girls, your father died.” Cindy’s eyes widened. “He died four days ago.”

“What happened?” Tara asked.

“It was a heart attack,” Cindy said. “I wasn’t with him. Isn’t that awful? For decades, I’ve spent almost every hour with that man. And he decided to die when I wasn’t there.”

Tara’s heart felt crushed.

Cindy blinked around the living room with even more confusion. “I really need everyone to leave soon,” she muttered. “I need them to leave so I can be with my girls.”

Tara prayed that nothing was medically wrong with Cindy. She was acting strangely and seemed out of it.

It wasn’t till later that Tara learned that Cindy’s friend had given her a pill to calm her. It was why she was acting so childlike.

But right now, Tara decided to help her mother with the final hours of the wake. She sat beside her, got her water and food when she wanted it, and introduced herself to everyone who approached Cindy to pay their respects.

Everyone seemed to say the same thing. “He was a great man, Cindy. He loved you to pieces.”

“He did,” Cindy said over and over again. “And I loved him back.”

Nobody ever asked Tara or Josie where they’d been all these years. But confusion filled awkward silences between them.

Josie couldn’t sit at the wake for long. Exhaustion had taken hold of her.

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