Chapter One
For forty-five minutes the little
red rental sat in the parking lot. Amanda Barber remained frozen in the
driver’s seat. She stared through the windshield at the brick building in front
of her. The car’s engine was off, the keys still hanging in the ignition. It
wouldn’t take much for her to reach out, turn them, and go back the way she had
come.
She read the sign on the building
one more time as if reading it would put off the inevitable. Howell’s Adult Day
Care.
It was getting dark; she couldn’t
sit there anymore. She had promised her stepmother’s attorney that she would
stick around for a couple weeks. Just a couple of weeks. Fourteen days. Half a
month.
She had to stop being a wimp.
Okay, no more hesitation. She grabbed the keys and tossed them into
her purse. She had to get this over with. She left the car and went into the
building before she could change her mind.
As the door closed behind her
with a click that sounded deafening
to her own ears, Amanda glanced around. A few older people sat knitting,
reading, and talking in small groups. A television droned in the background. A
very elderly gentleman sat in a wheelchair in front of a large picture window,
his head bobbing as he dozed off.
A woman, just a few years older
than her, looked up and spotted Amanda. A frown creasing her forehead, the
woman straightened from helping the young man who was sitting at a card table.
Amanda wasn’t quite sure what the young man needed help doing. It looked as
though he’d been drawing. The woman leaned over and said something in his ear
before approaching Amanda.
“Can I help you?”
“I guess so.”
A puzzled look crossed the
woman’s face when Amanda didn’t continue.
The woman prodded, “Do you need
information? Or a tour of our facility?”
“No.”
The woman squinted in confusion
and tilted her head with an unspoken question. As she opened her mouth, Amanda
interrupted her. “I’m here for Gregory Barber.”
She must have said it loud
enough, as the young man at the table lifted his head from his project and
turned toward them. He laughed loudly and brushed away the hair that fell into
his eyes with the back of his bent wrist.
An O formed on the woman’s lips. “You must be Amanda.”
Amanda frowned. Of course the
woman knew who she was. She bet all of Manning Grove had been waiting for her
to show up.
“Yes, I’m here to pick up Greg.”
Amanda bit her lip as the young
man rose from the table with a crooked smile. Next thing she knew, he was
running toward her, his arms flailing in the air. Amanda automatically stepped
back. She really wanted to turn and run, but the young man’s arms wrapped
around her, squeezing her until she couldn’t breathe.
The woman grabbed his arms,
trying to peel him off. “Greg! Greg! Let her go.”
Greg rocked Amanda back and
forth, pressing his head into her chest, squeezing her even tighter. She
groaned in pain.
“Greg!”
“Donna, is this ’Manda? Is this
’Manda?” His booming voice vibrated against her chest.
“Greg, you’re going to squeeze
her to death.”
Greg reluctantly let her go and
stepped back, the crooked smile on his face even larger. A bit of spit sprayed
out of his mouth as he yelled, “My sister ’Manda!”
“Yes, Greg, your sister is here
to pick you up.” Donna turned to Amanda. “As you can guess by now, I’m Donna. I
manage this facility.” Concern crossed her face. “You look pale. Do you want to
sit down?”
Amanda shook her head. “No.” She
took a deep breath, rubbing her ribs, checking for damage. She pulled down her
skirt and adjusted the sweater that was askew under her jacket. “No, I’m okay.”
“Are you taking Greg back to his
mother’s house?”
“Yes.”
“Have you ever dealt with a
special needs person before?”
Amanda looked at Greg, who stared
back at her with the biggest grin on his face. “No.” Greg couldn’t stand still;
he was fidgeting about and mumbling to himself.
Donna frowned. “Oh boy.”
Amanda didn’t want to hear that. Oh boy. What did that mean? She knew
that she would be in over her head. But “Oh
boy?”
Shit.
“Uh, is he ready to go?”
Donna looked at Greg. “Yes. He’s
very excited to meet his sister, as you can see.” She returned her attention to
Amanda and lifted her eyebrows. “This is for the first time, right?”
Amanda nodded. She didn’t know
whether to be ashamed or afraid. Shame was quickly clouding her feeling of
fear. She had no doubt that Donna knew the answer to that question before she
had even asked it. Amanda was sure that the whole town knew the truth.
Double shit.
Donna grabbed her arm, pity in
her eyes. “Look. I’ll give you my card. If you have any problems or questions,
call me. Greg’s a good kid; he’s easy to work with, easy to please.”
Amanda looked at the person in
question. He was no kid. Her half-brother was twenty-two years old. Twenty-two.
Old enough to drink, vote, join
the Army.
An adult who only acted like a
child.
“Thanks. I might take you up on
that offer.”
Donna smiled for the first time.
“I’m sure you will. Here is a brochure on my facility and my card. Greg comes
here three days a week. A bus will pick him up before eight a.m. on Mondays,
Wednesday, and Fridays, except for holidays. A bus will drop him off after six
p.m.”
Amanda’s head was spinning.
“Okay.”
“Greg, are you ready to go now?”
“Yep. Yep. Yep. I’m ready to go.”
Greg hopped on one foot, then the other, in his excitement. “We’s going now!”
He ran up to Amanda again and held out his twisted hand.
Amanda reached out and grabbed
it. His huge grin was irresistible. She gave him a weak smile back. “Ready,
Bud?”
“Who’s Bud?”
Amanda looked at her brother. He
might be only a half-brother, but he was still blood. He was family. Amanda
relaxed her stiff muscles a bit and gave his hand a squeeze. “You are, Bud. You
are going to be my new best bud.”
“Oh! Oh! Donna, I’m Bud! I’m a
Bud!” Greg started to pull her toward the door.
“Oh wait, Ms. Barber!” Amanda’s
head turned toward Donna as she was being tugged out through the entranceway.
“Don’t forget Chaos.”
“What?” She grabbed the doorjamb
to keep Greg from dragging her out the door and bouncing her over the pavement
in his enthusiasm.
“Chaos,” she repeated as if that
clarified everything.
Donna went to the back door and
held it open. A black-and-white border collie bounded through the door and
circled them, barking, just as out of control as Greg.
Chaos.
How appropriate.
* * * *
Keys jingled and hinges squeaked
as Amanda opened the front door of her new home.
New temporary home, she reminded
herself.
Due to the long flight followed
by the boring, long drive to this in-the-middle-of-nowhere
town, she was exhausted. She needed to get a good night’s sleep so she could
think clearly in the morning.
She glanced at her watch. Seven.
Neither Greg nor she had had
dinner yet, and here she was, thinking about going to bed. Like an old maid. In
Miami the nightlife hadn’t even begun yet.
Chaos brushed past her. The dog
probably needed to be fed too.
“Greg, do you know how to feed
Chaos?”
When there was no answer, Amanda
turned to look at him. He was still standing near the car. He had been
suspiciously calm and quiet as they drove into the neighborhood and up to the
house. The excited “boy” was gone.
“Greg?”
“Is Mama in there?”
Even in the dark and him being so
far away from her, the sadness and confusion was clearly recognizable on his
face. But his question made the hairs on the back of her neck rise.
“No, Greg, your mama is gone.
Come on. I need to make you some dinner.”
“Mama makes good food.”
Amanda sighed. She didn’t want to
deal with this. He wasn’t her responsibility. She had never even met her
brother before today. She knew he existed, but they’d lived in different
worlds. Her world had never included her father, her stepmother, or her half-brother.
Amanda’s mother, Anne, had made sure of that.
“Hey, Bud, I might not be the
best cook. In fact, I’m probably one of the worst. But I can sure make a bowl
of soup and a mean grilled cheese sandwich.”
His new nickname seemed to perk
him up a bit. He reluctantly followed behind her into the house.
Amanda ran her hand along the
wall, since the house was pitch-dark, looking for a light switch. Her fingers
located one, and she flipped the lights on. The house was cute. And small.
Everything seemed to have a place, and it was really neat. And despite the fact
that her stepmother Dolores had died over a week ago, the house seemed
relatively clean.
The living room to her right was
comfortable looking with a big, soft couch and a few beautifully carved, old,
but heavy wood tables. Antiques, probably. Most of the decorations on the wall
were framed photos. She would look closer at them later. After she got some
sleep.
One thing Amanda quickly noticed
was that there was nothing delicate. No pottery or glass or even small
knickknacks. Amanda could imagine why when she heard a crash. She rushed back
toward the rear of the house.
The large kitchen was modern with
all updated stainless steel appliances and gorgeous granite countertops. A
copper pot rack hung over an island, which was surrounded by dark wooden
stools.
And in the center of that
beautiful kitchen was Greg with a sheepish look on his face. “Sorry.”
He had dropped Chaos’s metal
bowl, but the dog didn’t care. As fast as he could eat, the dog vacuumed up
every last kibble wherever they had rolled.
“It’s okay, Bud. Now let’s find
something for you to eat.”
After a few minutes of searching
cabinets, she put together a quick dinner for Greg, and as he ate, she explored
the house some more. Even though the house was small, like she first thought,
it was comfy. It was a two story with three bedrooms and two bathrooms.
The kitchen had to be one of the
biggest rooms in the house. The backyard was long and narrow, adequately fenced
for the dog. The part Amanda loved the most was the sunroom that appeared to
have been recently added to the deck in the back.
Amanda returned to the kitchen to
check on Greg. Maybe she shouldn’t have left him for so long. Or at least
should have given him a napkin. As she helped him wipe the tomato soup off his
clothes, she quizzed him, trying to find out what he could do and not do.
Around ten p.m., after Greg
watched, according to him, one of his “favorite” programs, she went up with him
to his room.
“I see you’re a NASCAR fan,
Greg.”
“Love NASCAR. Love racing! I’m
gonna be a race car driver.”
“Let me guess. Tony Stewart is
your favorite driver.”
Greg squealed excitedly. “How’d
you know?”
Amanda looked around the bedroom,
which was full of the number fourteen posters, model cars, and memorabilia. She
pulled down the Stewart bedspread. Hmm,
how did she know?
“Can you take it from here? Can
you get ready for bed?”
“Yep.”
“Okay, night, Greg.”
“’Manda?”
“Yes?”
“Can I get a hug?”
“You bet, Bud.” His hug wasn’t so
bone crushing this time. “Night, Buddy. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Night, ‘Manda.”
Amanda headed back downstairs.
She went directly to the white envelope that the lawyer had given her, where
she had left it on the kitchen counter earlier. She grabbed it and went into
the sunroom. She sank with a tired groan into the plush love seat and ripped it
open. Chaos ran in and jumped up, curling next to her. Amanda smoothed a hand
down his silky back.
She unfolded the letter and began
to read.
Dear Amanda,
I know we never met, and I regret that. Nothing can change that now.
First thing I want you to know is that your father loved you, no matter what
you thought. He made a good life for us, and for that I’m grateful. I loved him
very much.
I know that this must be a big shock for you, meeting your brother for
the first time. Gregory is a good boy. I hope you’ll see that for yourself.
It’s been tough for Greg after your father died from that heart attack
two years ago. Not to mention me. I know it’s going to be even tougher for Greg
after I go. Greg has no idea that I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I don’t
think he’d understand it anyway.
If you’re reading this, then Greg has lost both of his parents. I hope
you find it in your heart to help him and love him. I know he’s only your
half-brother, but he’s still your brother. You’re all he has.
Please look deep within yourself to open your heart to him. It’s not an
easy job. Gregory can take care of himself somewhat, but he needs a lot of
guidance. I was trying to get him to be more independent, but he will never be
able to live on his own. He really needs you. I don’t want him to end up in a
home, alone.
The house is yours now, along with a trust that your father and I had
set up in which you will receive monthly income to help take care of Gregory.
It should be enough that if you stay in Manning Grove, you should be able to
not work and be there for Greg when he needs you. If you take him back to Miami
(I hope you won’t), it probably won’t last long at all.
This is a great town and the people are friendly and they know Gregory.
I know this might not convince you, but I don’t think Gregory would be happy in
a big city.
I’m babbling now.
Amanda read through a “grocery
list” of what tasks Greg could do on his own and what he needed help with. She
crushed the letter in her hand and threw it across the room. It bounced off a
lamp and landed in the middle of the floor.
Chaos leaped off the chair and
retrieved the “ball” before ceremoniously dropping it back in her lap. She
glared at him and the crumpled, damp letter, trying not to scream. Struggling
not to cry.
She didn’t want to do this. She
couldn’t do this. This woman had no right to ask her. She never asked for a
brother. Never cared that she was an only child. Her mother had spoiled her.
Not because she loved Amanda, but because she wanted to control her and, when
necessary, keep Amanda out of her hair.
Chaos nudged her hand, waiting
for her to throw the “ball” again.
Staring at the black-and-white
dog, she realized that she was expected to be responsible. Her—Amanda Barber! She who had never even owned a pet. Not even a
hamster. Now she was actually responsible for another human being. It was too
much.
She’d let Greg down.
Her head dropped into her hands,
and she lost it. Sobs racked her body until her stomach ached, her nose was
stuffy and swollen, and her eyes puffy. She sniffled loudly. Chaos sat at her
feet, ears perked, and tilted his head up at her with a silent inquiry.
She was scared.
And alone.
Not even her mother could—or
would—help.
The thought strengthened her. She
didn’t need her mother. Her mother was angry with her. She had said that Amanda
would never be able to do it. That she was incapable.
Amanda would show her. She would
be better than her mother. Greg was her blood. Her family. She would be caring,
warm, and loving.
At least she could try.
Chaos, tired of waiting, jumped
back up beside her. Amanda’s hand stroked his head. She was determined to prove
her mother wrong.
