Chapter 40

Deana spent more time with the pictures; her thoughts were scattered, thinking about what happened with Aunt Sally right after the Cindy Candy thing. I’m turning into a sex-crazed pervert like Evan, she thought. Actually, it was Deana’s way of coping with everything she had learned and the thoughts of their father’s return.

The man wasn’t in one picture. Zero, none, not one time did he appear in the Kodachrome past life. Had her father never wanted to be seen, or had Sally destroyed all of the photos he was in?

Enough for now, Deana thought and stacked the pictures in the order she wanted to show them to Evan. The expressions on his face would allow Deana to feel like she was seeing them for the first time again.

Before fitting the piles back in the shoebox, Deana noticed something, and a swarm of butterflies took off in her stomach. “Crash” was the word that made her realize the newspaper wasn’t a lining for the box. Very carefully, Deana peeled out the clippings that were stuck to the cardboard. Sweat formed on her palms as she started to read.

Some of the articles were more about the dangerous conditions on the road known as Bloody 98. Other stories were the typical grab your attention with a picture of a horribly smashed car then provide details about the location, cause, and the names of the victims. They weren’t tear-jerking human interest pieces until Deana read, “Young mother of twins pronounced dead at the scene.” Deana’s vision blurred as tears came faster than she could push them aside. It wasn’t like reliving the shock of her mother’s death; she was reliving all the years they had gone without their mother.

Deana would have stopped torturing herself immediately if Candy hadn’t said, “He killed your mother.” Those words had Deana searching the black ink for a definitive explanation. But Cindy had to be right; nobody gets into a car they know will crash. Why would Sally have told Candy that?

With smudged fingers, Deana struggled to return the pictures to the box. She then stashed the newspaper clippings in her desk drawer and called Rebecca.

Out in the garage, the last thing Deana wanted to do was find the pump and figure out how to fill her bike tires, which were flat from lack of use. That was Evan’s job, but she had to avoid her brother. It would be impossible to act like herself around him. The revelations bouncing around in her head would fly out if she let Evan too close. He’d have to be satisfied with the panties she left him, at least for now.

Fuck the pump, Deana thought when she found Evan’s bike had air in the tires, but when she straddled it, the bar hit her crotch, and the seat was raised to a useless height. If she wasn’t careful, it might kill her kitty. Oh well, she thought and started down the driveway.

The longer Deana stood up, peddling, the hotter and sweatier she got, and the more she regretted demanding Rebecca meet her at the park. It was emotional and rash, but the kick in the gut feeling the newspaper articles gave her made Deana want to talk to her best friend. Now, with the pointed seat stuffed into the crack of her ass, Deana would have called and canceled their rendezvous, except Rebecca would murder her if she did.

How could she tell Rebecca anything without giving up all her secrets? If she said, I think my father killed our mother, then Rebecca would ask questions and come to the obvious conclusion, who gets in a car they know will crash? Plus, who would believe their father killed anyone without knowing all the other horrible things he had done? Deana pictured herself saying, well, he made my aunt give up her baby and move away. Rebecca wouldn’t believe that unless she admitted Cindy was her sister and maybe even gave up the big secret. After all this time, Deana would be humiliated. Rebecca would look at her with her mouth hanging open and ask why she hadn’t told anyone. What kind of girl lets their father molest them without telling someone? What would Rebecca think? I liked it, or I was too stupid to ask for help?