Marisol waved as she slid into the front seat of her car and turned on the engine. She threw an arm over the seat and began to back out.
Alex watched her go and then, lost in thought, returned to her own car and headed for home.
It was dark when Alex got home, and she felt relieved that the day was over. Going to see Dory had been undeniably stressful. A childish, hopeful part of her, one that still secretly entertained the notion of guardian angels and love at first sight and other miracles, had wanted to believe that she and her sister would have an instant rapport. That had not happened. The reality was quite a bit more sobering.
Alex went into the kitchen and rummaged through her mother’s cabinets. She found pasta in the cupboards and some vegetables that still looked edible in the fridge. She put everything on the counter and filled a pot with water for the pasta. Then she began to chop. Suddenly she heard a knocking on the front door. Her heart leapt. Seth Paige? she thought. She chided herself for her excitement, but then remembered that he had, indeed, agreed to come over and look at her father’s books. Maybe he had chosen tonight to look through them. She noticed that the bottle of wine he brought her on Christmas Day was still on the counter. She knew where her mother kept the corkscrew. Maybe she would open it.
‘All right,’ she said. ‘Just a minute, I’m coming.’ She turned off the pot of boiling water and the burner under the sauté pan. Then she smoothed her hair as she went down the hallway. She pulled open the front door and looked out.
A black pick-up truck was parked directly in front of the house with the name ‘Details’ painted on the door. A man and a woman stood on the front steps. The woman was middle-aged with short, spiky gray-blonde hair, a fine-boned face and square jaw. Her well-shaped eyebrows arched over her light blue eyes. Her skin was lined, but she was obviously still attractive, wearing a bulky coat-styled sweater and little make-up. The man beside her was balding and his skin looked weatherbeaten. His eyelids were deeply creased, giving his gray eyes a sad expression. He was dressed in work boots and rugged, outdoorsman-style clothes.
Alex stared at them, disappointed. ‘Can I help you?’
‘Are you Alex Woods?’ the man asked. He had a slight western drawl.
‘Yes,’ said Alex cautiously.
‘We heard you were looking for us.’
Alex frowned. ‘I’m afraid there’s some mistake.’
‘I don’t think so,’ said the man. ‘We’re Dory’s parents.’
SEVEN
For a moment Alex just stared. These were the people whom her sister had called ‘mother and father’. The thought of it was jarring. ‘I’m . . . this is unexpected,’ she said.
‘I’m Garth Colson,’ said the man. ‘This is my wife, Elaine. May we come in?’
Alex did not move. ‘I’m sorry. I’m just a little . . . surprised to see you here.’
The couple exchanged a glance. ‘According to our neighbor, you were looking for us,’ said Garth.
Alex blushed, remembering the half-truths she told to Chris Ennis. ‘I was. But how did you . . . . That is . . . how did you find me?’
‘Dory called my phone and left me a message. She said you lived in Chichester and that you are her half-sister, and that you were coming to see her. After that, finding you was easy,’ said Elaine Colson matter-of-factly.
‘Oh, of course. I guess I probably should have . . .’
The woman shivered. ‘It’s chilly out here. May we come inside?’
Alex stepped away from the door. ‘I’m sorry. Yes, sure,’ she said.
‘Thank you,’ said Elaine. They walked in and stood uneasily, side by side, in the vestibule.
‘Nice house,’ Garth Colson said, inspecting the curved banister on the staircase. ‘When was it built?’
‘I’m not sure,’ said Alex. ‘The eighteen hundreds, I think.’
‘Garth’s an expert on old houses,’ said Elaine.
‘Please, come in,’ said Alex, gesturing to the living room.
They followed Alex in. Garth stopped in front of the framed photos of her parents which Alex kept on the mantle. ‘Look at this, honey,’ he said.
Elaine walked up beside him and stared at one of the photos in silence. Finally she said, ‘This must be your mother.’
‘Yes, and my father,’ said Alex.
‘Dory looks just like her,’ Garth said.
‘That’s what I thought,’ said Alex. ‘It was a little unnerving when I met her.’
Elaine turned her back on the photo. She picked a chair and