Page 68 of Everything We Left Behind

Light footsteps approached the door and after a moment’s hesitation, the lock flipped and the door opened. A smaller, older version of Aimee greeted us. Blue eyes, bright and wide under a head of chicly spiked salt-and-pepper hair, darted from me to Natalya, then back to me. She stared, blinked several times, then fell back a step and gasped. Her hands cupped her mouth and nose, and her eyes sheened.

“Mrs.Tierney?” I asked.

She lifted her hands away from her face. “James?”

Natalya’s nails dug into my hand. I glanced at her. She’d gone pale.

“Carlos.” I offered my hand.

“Yes, of course ... Carlos.” She gripped my hand with both of hers. “Carlos,” she repeated, chewing on the name. “You look different than ... I never thought.” She pressed her lips, her chin quivering, and released my hand. She touched her hair, pushed down the silver cuff she wore on her wrist, and glanced over her shoulder into the depths of the house. She discreetly swiped her tears.

“Oh my,” she murmured. “I’m a bit overwhelmed.”

I imagined finding me on her doorstep was like seeing a ghost. They’d attended James’s funeral and the burial afterward.

Natalya tugged my arm.

“This is Natalya Hayes, my—”

“I’m his sister-in-law,” she said, looking at me. I frowned and she shook her head, then extended her arm. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Catherine.” Mrs.Tierney looked a bit dazed.

“May we come in?” I asked.

“My goodness, where are my manners? Come in, come in.” She opened the door wider.

Natalya went first, and I hesitated. Panic sliced through me. What if I recognize the rooms? What if there are pictures of Aimee and me? What if I suddenly forget who I am and remember everything I was?

Natalya glanced at me over her shoulder and squeezed my hand so I’d know to read her lips.It’s okay,she silently told me. I moved into the entryway and turned a full circle. Aside from an oil painting of an old railroad track I recognized as James’s—it was his artistic style and signature in the corner—I didn’t see anything familiar. I exhaled and smiled reassuringly at Natalya.

Catherine closed the front door, watching us. The way Natalya stood beside me, our hands clasped. The secret glances at each other, which apparently weren’t so secret.

“She’s more than a sister-in-law.”

“I love her.”

Catherine’s mouth curved downward. She nodded. “I can’t imagine what life must be like for you with most of it missing. Everything your family did to you ...” Her chin quivered. “You’re still welcome here. You’ll always be family to us.” She turned to Natalya. “I’m glad he has you.”

Natalya adjusted the purse strap on her shoulder with a trembling hand. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“I’m happy you aren’t alone,” Catherine said to me. Tears flooded her eyes, fell in ribbons over weathered cheeks. Her shoulders shook; then she broke into a full-on cry.

“Oh!” Natalya exclaimed. She hugged Catherine as the older woman sobbed on her shoulder.

“Cathy?” A voice boomed through the house.

“In here, Hugh.” Her voice broke through her tears.

Heavy footsteps echoed through the house. A large man appeared around the corner. “Why are you crying?” Hugh asked his wife. I watched with distorted amusement as his expression changed from confusion to shock when he saw me. “Jesus Christ.”

“Not quite, but I guess you could say we’ve both risen from the dead.”

Natalya smacked my chest. “Carlos.”

Catherine grasped my wrist. “Will you stay for Sunday lunch?”

“Cathy, I don’t think—”

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