“Yes, but we’re supporting each other. His wife doesn’t understand what he’s going through. I do. You don’t know how important it is to be around people who are experiencing the same struggle as you.”

Ava was silent.

“I love him, Ava,” Jayne whispered. “I’ve never felt like this about anyone.”

What do I say to that?

“Can you be happy for me?” she asked in a small voice.

“What will you do when he leaves, Jayne? You’re ten years older than him! Are you going to fall apart and start abusing again? Are you going to slash your wrists?” She spoke cruelly. Her sister was blindly skipping down a familiar path. “Do you know how many times I’ve heard this sort of story from you? I’m worried for you. You get caught up in a man and when he leaves you in the dust, I have to pick up the pieces.”

“I know how many times I’ve done that to you, Ava, and I’m sorry for every time. I ask myself every day what I will do if I’m suddenly alone. And do you know what? I’m good with it. I can stand on my own two feet now. I want to get better, Ava. Not for him or even for you, but for me. I don’t need someone else to prop me up. I’m choosing to be with Brady and if it ends, it ends. It’s not the end of my life.”

Shock kept Ava speechless. She’d never heard her sister speak with such self-confidence. She sounded healthy and balanced. She almost believed her . . . almost.

“Don’t forget that, Jayne.”

“I won’t. I’m not going to improve if I’m constantly looking for someone to lean on. That’s one thing I did learn in that center. I learned I have to rely on myself for my own happiness, not others.”

Ava stared at the phone number on her dash as if it would explain who’d taken over her sister’s brain.

“I’m glad you know that now, Jayne,” she stammered.

“I need to go. Just understand that I’m in a good spot and I’ll make certain Brady reaches out to his family. It’s over between him and his wife. He knew that before he went into therapy.”

“Be careful, Jayne. That’s his problem, not yours.”

“I know. He’s doing what he needs to do for himself, just as I am.”

“Are you still painting?” she asked.

“Oh, yes. I’m going to get set up down here and keep going. I love it.”

“Your paintings are beautiful, Jayne. I was so proud of you when I saw your pictures.” Thoughts of David and his revelations invaded her brain. I can’t tell her about him yet. What if it’s not true?

She needed proof before she told Jayne that their father had found them.

“Thank you,” Jayne whispered. “I love you, Ava.”

“Love you, too.”

“I need to go. I’ll email you.”

The call ended.

What just happened? She’d never heard such logical words from her sister. Is she truly on the right path?

She did know that Jayne’s health was out of her hands, and she was at peace with that. She silently wished her sister the best. Brady or no Brady, it sounded as if Jayne might be doing something right for herself for once.

Ava could only hope.

31

Mason turned into the long gravel driveway. Scott Heuser lived in an old house on a few acres set way back from the narrow country road. Tall firs lined part of the drive, and he passed small pastures that needed a horse or two.

I’ve been here before. He thought hard, trying to remember when he would have visited the home. Maybe it only felt like a place he’d visited before. Or had work brought him here?

He’d visited the immediate area several times. The property he’d driven past before Scott’s was the huge farm where he used to bring Jake to pick out his pumpkin. The agri-tainment farm offered a corn maze, hayrides through a haunted forest, pumpkin launchers, a snack bar, and a petting zoo. He’d passed the large gravel parking lot packed with minivans and SUVs as families did their Halloween duty. Popular opinion stated that parents were to give kids every possible experience; it was nearly a competition. Mason had been sucked into it as he and Robin raised Jake. They had dragged their son to every holiday event. Santa’s lap, Easter Bunny, Fourth of July parades, state and county fairs. Picking out a Christmas tree or a pumpkin had to be an adventure.

Mason had found all of it exhausting. He’d eagerly gone the first time or two but had become burned out on the lines and crowds. And cost. Robin loved it. She continued to take Jake on her own as Mason begged off most years, blaming work or lack of energy. He simply didn’t want to go.

Did that make me a bad parent?

Ava would never know the highs and lows of raising kids. He felt bad about that, but part of him knew she would miss out on a lot of heartache. It’d been her decision.

Or had it?

He frowned as he parked his car in front of the white farmhouse. He and Ava had briefly touched on the subject of kids a few times. He’d always said he was done. And she’d said—he concentrated to remember her exact words, but he couldn’t recall them. He knew she’d always smiled, nodded, and agreed.

Would she want to take a child on the hayride through the haunted woods?

He could visualize it.

The first time he’d taken Jake on the hayride at the adjacent farm had been a disaster. The ride wasn’t recommended for kids under the age of ten, but nine-year-old Jake had begged and begged to go. Mason had relented. The night had been clear and cold. He could see Jake’s breath as he’d panted with excitement, sitting close to Mason on a bale of hay in the back of the wagon. The high school’s drama department had supplied the actors and makeup for the roaming zombie horde, and terrifying dead people crawled out of holes in the graveyard. Random body parts were scattered along the dirt road and hanging from the trees.