Page 31 of Wandering Souls

“We haven’t had time to put these up yet,” he explained, pushing the picture closer. “Abi, that’s Damien.”

“No,” she gasped, picking up the photo.

It should be an image of a young man in his early thirties, but what she saw was a graying man in his mid-fifties. Happy. Smiling. Posing with Stevie. His goatee hid his chin, but there was no mistaking the identity of the man staring at Abi. Her head snapped up to find Hollywood practically holding his breath.

“I’m not having you on.” The sincerity in his voice shivered down her spine. “It really is him.”

“But he died.” The words were reflex. “It can’t be.”

She studied the photo again and saw the striking resemblance between Damien and Stevie.Like father, like daughter?Could it be?

Her stomach rolled and her head felt light. She waved the photo. “When was this taken?”

“A month ago, at his wedding.”

“Wedding?”

Hollywood frowned. “Are you okay? You look like you’re going to pass out.”

Abi grabbed his arm. “Who did he marry?”

He almost looked frightened to answer her. “Well, that’s a long story, too. But he re-married his wife, Penny.”

Her throat dried up as the possibility that her father and her mother were alive buzzed in her head. All she needed now was to know if Stevie was his daughter and she’d have the complete trifecta.

“Let me get this straight.” She blinked against the emotions wanting to take over. Rational thought first, reaction second. She’d lived and survived by the motto and it had served her well over the years. “Damien McCafferty is alive. As is Penny. And I take it Stevie,” she waved the photo again, “used to be Hope. Yes?”

Hollywood swallowed, the sound audible in the quiet room. He scratched his head. “Oh, man. I wish I wasn’t the one who had to tell you this, but yes Abi, your family is alive, and here in Wills Crossing.”

~

Ray finished washingthe dishes and began wiping down the bench when his phone rang. Bruce barked and trotted toward the counter where it sat on charge. The dog grew anxious, looking from the phone to him and back to the phone again.

“Relax,” he chuckled, rounding the counter to where the device vibrated. He checked the caller ID and smiled. No wonder Bruce wanted him to pick up. “Abi,” he sighed, relieved to see her name. “I’m glad you called.”

“Ray?” Tension sounded at his ear.

“Abi? Is everything alright?”

“No. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“That he’s alive, and here.” Her voice cracked, sending Bruce into a spin. The agitated animal literally turned in a circle and bounced on his front paws.

Oh.“Where are you, Abi?”

“He’s alive. My father’s alive. You knew and you didn’t tell me.”

Explaining to her that she’d left before he could tell her at breakfast seemed pointless, not when she sounded worked up. “Abi, I’m sorry.”

She went quiet though he heard the short, shallow breaths. They were too quick, too raspy for his liking.

“Abi, where are you?”

The silent treatment lasted longer than he expected, until she finally said, “I don’t know.”

He grabbed his keys off the counter and slapped his thigh. Bruce followed without command, retrieving his leash by the front door. Leaving the house, he led Bruce down to the car parked on the street and climbed in. “Okay, sweetheart, backtrack. Where were you?”

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