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Blow Out the Candles and Say Goodbye

By Linda S Glaz

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PROLOGUE
SUMMER 1983
Rural Wisconsin
Her eye twitched, but she jerked a finger up to stop the rhythmic pulsing. The little brats’ cries roused the snake that gnawed at Laura’s gut. The girls had better shut up soon, or she’d lose the phony smile and shut them up Laura style.
She swallowed hard to push the snake down … down … down. Back where it belonged.
Five girls, all five years old, clung to one another in the back seat of the car. Grasping little monkeys with fearful wide eyes and noses dripping snot onto their clothes. Crying … crying … crying for Mommy. No end in sight.
Laura jammed a fist against her temple and clenched her teeth. You’re never gonna see Mommy again.
At last, only the sixth girl stirred. She glared at Laura. Her narrowed gaze and crossed arms dared the snake to unwind and strike, but only Laura allowed that. Not some stupid little monster who didn’t know her place.
She cleared her throat and stared at the miles of hypnotizing asphalt before her. No brat was going to sidetrack her.
On the road, far from the Nashville birthday party and everyone and everything they knew, Laura and Harrison didn’t allow the girls far from their sides. Still, it seemed to her that she had to deal with them far more often than he did. What she’d like to do to him!
Laura smirked and chewed the inside of her cheek until it swelled. Yes! Feeling!
The way she and Harrison assimilated into a community deserved a Tony. Even now, she pictured how they took to their new personas. So easy to fit into the small towns. Smiles tipped their lips, hard work gained them respect, and attending church each Sunday earned them trust. New lives, new personalities, new homes. New mines to dig for gold. Anyway, wasn’t that what President Reagan was pushing for—a better economy? She and Harrison were just doing their part.
Laura cackled so loud it hurt her own ears. Shh! Let the last whiner fall asleep.
For the past three years, Laura’s ingenuity had created houses with a welcoming look in each new town: a few well-placed pots of geraniums, an inviting birdfeeder, and maybe a resin squirrel or two playing amongst the flowers. Safe, happy, and inviting. While inside the walls was a completely different story.
She snorted a laugh and eyed her husband’s truck in the mirror. The paint was thinning, the tires balding. Thank goodness it didn’t have to last much longer. She’d give almost anything to dump the brats in his lap for once. Time to remind him she did the lioness share of the work. But always with a smile. Make him believe in her.
She glanced up again while “Happy Birthday” lingered in her head. Her laughter brought tears, and she swerved in the road before righting the vehicle. Did the angry brat still want her birthday presents? Probably not. That face. The crossed arms. Signals that all was not well in the puny little body. The kid needed sleep. An extra-large spoon of cough syrup. That would do it.
In the reflection, she could imagine Harrison’s ever-frowning face. His mantra never changed. “Make them behave.” He should be the one listening to tears, wiping sloppy noses, petting, and kissing. Pretending to care what happened to them.
Before her anger had a chance to subside, they exited I-65 for I-94 headed to Chicago. There, the wheels of corruption would turn another truckload of obnoxious five-year-olds into pure gold.
She’d heard that reference in a crime movie when she was only eight or nine.
Wheels of corruption, indeed.
***
SUMMER 1983
Mt. Clemens, MI
Brandy Barrett choked back a sob. The woman in the casket looked out of place with the hands neatly pressed against her stomach like she had a bellyache or something. Only the hint of a smile said otherwise. How had the mortician managed to force the lips up? Mom hadn’t smiled in over two years. Lids closed over the brilliant blue eyes, hiding her Italian heritage, the waxy figure did resemble her mother in a weird sort of way. Especially since it was dressed in her mother’s favorite gray pantsuit. But Mom wouldn’t be stretched out on a bed of pink satin. If that were really Mom, she’d be home planning Brandy’s thirteenth birthday party. She shivered at the thought creeping into her head … unwelcome, unexpected. And with clutching hands, she hugged herself.
Organ music that came from somewhere she didn’t know echoed off walls papered in old-fashioned—what had Mom called them? Cabbage roses? Pulaskis’, the town’s oldest funeral home, probably hadn’t ever been remodeled. Whatever the tune was quieted the mourners. Momentarily.
Most of them had stories to share about Mom. Some sad, some happy.
A woman with funny blue hair touched her father’s arm. “She helped us sew dozens of quilts for newborns, Joseph. Why, the program will be lost without her.” Then Blue Hair dabbed a hankie to her eyes.
Mom sewed quilts? Really?
“When she won Mother of the Year, you and Brandy must have been so proud.” The squat woman eyed her in a way that offered far too much sympathy. Brandy’s throat closed tight as she fought tears. Mother of the Year.
Off to the right, a young airman in uniform stood ruler-straight next to her father. “The wives are going to miss her, sir. She did so much to help them adjust to life as a military spouse. My condolences.” His feet snapped as if he were suddenly at attention, but dad didn’t even make eye contact, just shook the airman’s hand and waved him away.
The fake figure in the coffin took on different meanings for a moment. Her mother. All of these aspects of a life that Brandy hadn’t thought about. Had Mom really done all of these things? When had she found the time? Brandy barely remembered her cooking their favorite pasta or combing her wavy black hair. Things her mother had no longer cared about after … that day.
“Hey.” Her best friend squeezed her arm. “Not the way to be getting ready for your birthday, is it? I’m so sorry.” She offered a hug and walked away.
Sweat warmed Brandy’s underarms as she glanced again at the body and sighed. Who was she kidding? Even if her mother were alive, there wouldn’t have been a birthday party. Not for her.
Parties had become painful reminders. They hadn’t celebrated birthdays since … well … what seemed like a lifetime ago.
Her stomach clenched at the strong odor of flowers—roses, lots of roses and others she didn’t know the name of. The overpowering sweetness wasn’t pleasant; the odor crept through her, souring a stomach that hadn’t stopped churning for days. Flowers meant happiness. Today held nothing pleasant or happy.
The papered walls closed around her with their crazy prints. She shriveled inside her sweater and slacks to make herself invisible. She hadn’t been invisible that night. A shudder swept through her.
Legs suddenly wobbly, she tightened the grip on her father’s back.
Joseph Barrett jerked without shifting his gaze from the dark, wooden casket. “She couldn’t help herself, you know.” Dad’s eyes were darker brown than usual. The happiness was missing.
His hand sheltered her mother’s pale fingers with such tenderness. What should Brandy say? Mom died because I was being a spoiled brat? She shook her head. He mustn’t ever know. If he found out, he’d leave her, too.
Caressing the glossy side of the casket with his fingertips, he murmured, “She loved us.” Then he cocked his head toward her, his face a mask of disbelief. “Really. She did.”
Right. That’s why she killed herself.
Because she loved us.
Brandy shuddered, thinking of that time when she was sitting on a porch, sobbing, begging her mother to stay out of the frightening house with black, empty eyes where windows should have been. She’d grabbed Mom’s arm. “You might disappear, too!”
Like her sister, Torey, had disappeared.
“Dad. Daddy?” She started to say it was no one’s fault but closed her mouth as a drop of moisture rolled from her father’s eye and landed on Mom’s ring finger. Brandy tightened her lips and pursed them to stop the rest of her words. Even without his accusations, the blame rested solidly on her shoulders. Her chin trembled and tears burned behind her lids. She reached up to stop the shaking before her father could see into her soul and discover the horrible truth.
She had been the one to cause her sister’s disappearance two long years ago.

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