He heard the screen door open and shut. He smelled her sweet scent as she halted nearby.
“I’m sorry I bailed on the conversation earlier,” she said.
He turned his head to look up at her. “It’s okay. I came on a bit strong.”
“You did, but I understand why.” She spread her hands, staring at them for a moment before dropping them again. “You’re getting attached to her. I am, too. It’d be hard not to.”
“You said that my sister chose me for a reason. You were right.” He was silent. “Maybe it was to find her a forever family without letting her go through the foster system, or maybe it was because I’m the only person Sally would trust with her child. I won’t ever know which one, quite honestly. She didn’t leave any instructions, or I might have had a better idea what her wishes were.” He snorted. “She left me a two-year-old without an instruction manual. Just what every single guy needs, right?”
Jenna laughed. “I told you where to find a basic instruction manual.”
“You did, and it worked. Want to join me?”
She hesitated, and then she shrugged. “Sure, why not? But I need to get a drink.”
He picked up the second beer he’d set on the ground near his chair and twisted off the top. “Here.”
She took it. “Thanks.”
She dragged a chair over to the pit, diagonally from him so he could see her face, and sat down. She put the baby monitor on the arm of the chair, and he thought once more how lucky he was to have found her when he did.
“I met Sally when we were both thirteen,” he said when they’d been sitting in silence for a few minutes. He could tell that Jenna was listening because she slanted a gaze at him while also watching the fire. “She was scrawny, but her eyes speared daggers into anyone who looked at her. As if daring them to try it, you know? I think I must have sensed a kindred spirit…”
He stared at the flickering tongues of flame, remembering the way Sally had looked at him when he’d arrived at the Parker house. Like she’d burn it all down if she got a chance. He’d been intrigued.
“I’d been kicked out of the last foster home I’d been in, and when the Parker family wanted me, the social worker hissed that it was my last chance. I was rebellious and destructive, so that’s why I got tossed out of so many homes.”
He couldn’t believe he was saying these things, but maybe he’d held them in so long that they had to get out. There was nobody else to tell. But it was more than that. Jenna was Alice’s nanny. If he wanted her to be more, if he really wanted to keep Alice, then he needed Jenna to know who he was. She’d said she didn’t know; he was going to tell her.
“The Parkers took all the tough cases. The children no one else could deal with. They had this image of being a godly, clean-cut, moral family. They were willing to sacrifice their own leisure and peace of mind to help the kids who rebelled and acted out. Saints, they were.”
The words were bitter on his tongue. He could feel Jenna watching him. Waiting. Somehow, that gave him the courage to continue.
“You already know they weren’t really saints. It’s baked into the story, right? Saintly couple taking in orphans and turning them around? But how did they turn them around. That’s what nobody ever asked.”
“Noah,” she said, her voice a choked whisper.
He met her gaze. She looked worried. He felt a wave of gratitude for that. “It’s okay, Jenna. It’s already happened, and it’s over. Alan Parker’s in prison for abusing little girls. Shirley’s doing time for being an accessory. There was other stuff too. Cages, chains, beatings. Threats. They were subtle and they were good.”
Jenna dragged her chair over and squeezed his hand. He didn’t let go when she tried to pull away again, and she subsided, her hand relaxing in his.
“Sally was being abused when I arrived, but I didn’t know it at first. And when I did know, I didn’t do anything about it. I didn’t know what to do. Not until I was seventeen and finally growing into my gangly body. I filled out that year, got bigger than anyone expected, and I cornered Alan. Threatened to tear him limb from limb if he touched Sally again. If he touched any of the girls. He stopped, believe it or not. For a while. But they punished me. Kept me chained to my bed for a week until the truant officer showed up and threatened to get a search warrant. I was back at school the next day.”
She squeezed his hand again. “I’m so sorry, Noah.”
“I know. Believe me, I know.”
“You couldn’t tell anyone?”
“Not really. Alan and Shirley were good. They hid all that stuff, and they were pillars of the community. I was a troubled teenager who’d just spent a week skipping school, right? Nobody would have believed me. They’d have thought I was trying to cause trouble for those lovely Parkers.” He drew in a breath. “Sally and I shared a bond because of our birthdays at first, and then because of the continuing trauma. She was my sister in every way except genetically.”
“I hope those people never get out of prison,” Jenna choked. “My God.”
He ran his thumb in circles on her wrist. “Thank you. It means a lot. I’m okay. I didn’t keep up with the others because it was too hard. I wasn’t close to any of them but Sally, and I had my hands full with my own issues and with her after we got away.” He sipped his beer. “We lived together for a while, working odd jobs and sharing the bills. I tried to get her to join the Army with me, but she wouldn’t. I think the idea of being told what to do, of suffering through boot camp, was too much for her. She was never going to be able to handle that kind of authoritarian control over her life after what she’d been through.”
There was a knot in his throat. “She was angry that I joined. That I left her alone. That was our first break, but after I got through boot camp and training and got my first assignment, we were speaking again.”
Steely Dan had moved on to “Rikki Don’t Lose That Number.” He thought of his mother singing that song as she washed dishes. Before she found out about the cancer and stopped singing along to anything.
“I wish I had the right words,” Jenna said. “But I don’t. People like your foster family should be shot, and kids should never suffer the way you and Sally did.”
He couldn’t help it. He lifted her hand and pressed his mouth to the back of it. He didn’t linger, though. He didn’t want her to think he was angling for more.
“My only consolation about the Parkers is I’m sure Alan is somebody’s bitch now. I intend to go to every parole hearing I can and tell my side of the story. Same for Shirley. She could have stopped it, but all she did was enable. And punish. She loved her goddamn chains and withholding food for transgressions.”
“I think you’re pretty incredible. And I think I understand how Sally was so broken now. She must have gotten herself together though, because Alice is beautiful and sweet. She’s bright, too. She’s wary because she lost her mother and got shuffled around, but she’s coming out of her shell a lot more lately.”
“She trusts you.”
“She trusts you, too,” Jenna said softly. “You’re her Uncle Noah.”