The Bookstore on the Beach - Brenda Novak Page 0,70

she was nineteen at the time, old enough to be on her own, she’d had no idea how she’d get by and be able to provide for Autumn.

Of course the Wikipedia article mentioned that she could’ve gotten away, citing the various examples and making her feel, once again, as if she owned some responsibility in her own victimization.

Victim shaming. She’d experienced it, even though she’d been only twelve when she was taken. That was largely why she didn’t want to be reminded of anything to do with those years. They were bad enough without making her feel she was to blame for any of it. Why didn’t she run? they’d asked—over and over. That was all they’d wanted to discuss, other than the dirty details of the abuse she’d suffered.

She checked several other links, enough to learn that there was still plenty of information out there about her kidnapping. Some of the more in-depth news stories even mentioned her drug-addicted mother and the various men who’d temporarily served as her stepfather—sometimes for only a handful of months, if that long. Like the man who’d sired her, they’d been addicts, too. Who else would be able to put up with a mother like hers? She’d called so many men “Daddy” in her young life that she couldn’t even remember the names that went with some of the faces.

A wave of sadness rolled over her as she read one article that reported her beloved grandmother’s death. Grandma Lillian had provided what little stability Mary had known in those early years only to die not knowing where her granddaughter was.

Mary desperately wished Lillian had lived long enough to meet Autumn. Autumn was worth every sacrifice. The love she’d felt for her daughter had somehow carried her through.

But she could say that about Tammy, too.

Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she went down her list of contacts until she located the record she’d created for the Skinners’ daughter. No last name. Just Tammy.

She stared at the number for several minutes. Then she checked the time: 6:00. Finally. She could close the store.

She went out and turned the sign, locked the door and lowered the blinds on the front windows. Then she locked the back door, just in case Laurie or Autumn came back, and stood, because she was far too nervous to sit, as she sent the call.

The phone rang three times. “Hello?”

A female voice had answered. Was it Tammy? It’d been so long that Mary couldn’t say she recognized the voice. But Tammy was an adult now; she wouldn’t sound remotely the same.

“Hello?” the woman said again. “Is anyone there?”

Mary had blocked her number. She told herself to answer and identify herself. Tammy couldn’t call back; she was safe.

But she didn’t feel safe. She gripped the phone so tightly the edges were cutting into the palm of her hand.

“Hello? Please answer.”

Telling herself she was just having a reaction to the trauma she’d been through, she opened her mouth to force the words that were jammed up in her throat. But before she could, Tammy lowered her voice. “Bailey? Is it you?” she asked, and the panic became so palpable that Mary hung up.

* * *

Taylor wasn’t sure how to approach the subject she wanted to talk about. She and Sierra could discuss most things, and it all came naturally—flowed as if they’d known each other their whole lives.

But this subject seemed entirely off-limits. She was afraid just bringing it up could ruin the special bond that was forming between them. She was beginning to care about life again, to get over the loss of her father and reclaim her relationships with her brother and mother and Mimi. Even the pregnancy didn’t seem as terrible as she’d initially thought it would be.

Because of Sierra.

“I like the name Leila for a girl. What do you think?” Sierra asked.

They both had their laptops and were in Sierra’s room, sitting on her bed. Bread was playing on a phonograph, the shiny vinyl spinning under the needle on the nightstand next to her, so she could change albums once it ended. It could be a pain to do that—it was so easy to stream music instead—but Sierra didn’t mind, and Taylor enjoyed the throwback.

While they listened and Sierra tossed out baby names she found on various websites, Taylor was looking at baby clothes and accessories, something that got her excited about the baby and took away some of the worry she felt—mostly when she contemplated telling her