Chapter 4: Revelations

There were so many messages on the answering machine that it was broken and none of them accessible. Tamara felt overwhelmed and retreated to her room. Her parents stood in the kitchen, while her mother tried to concentrate on getting something for dinner. Tamara was glad it wasn’t her night to cook.

Usually, they didn’t have the TV on during dinner, but tonight her father made an exception. It was hard to listen to the story, hard to believe how what had actually happened had been changed.

Her mother complained she didn’t feel good and went to bed. Tamara saw her dad sigh but nodded in understanding when he shrugged.

“Tamara, do you remember what Mr. Bard said about how they were going to get you to change your story?” he asked her after her mother had retired for the night.

“Yes. I’m not going to change it! I’m going to do what’s right!”

He nodded but looked grave. “What do I do for a living, Tamara?”

“You work for the Port of Portland as their comptroller.”

“And your mom?”

Tamara looked at him, not understanding these questions. Of course, she knew what her parents did for a living! “She’s a high school English teacher at Skyline High here in Vancouver.”

“If they want you to change your story, just how do you think they will apply the pressure? By asking you two or three times? Being polite about it?”

Tamara stared at him. Well, yes, that was pretty much what she’d thought. In conjunction with his questions, though, it was very disturbing. Very disturbing. Scary.

He saw her expression and nodded. “Yep. Port of Portland is part of the city government. Technically, we’re supposed to be independent, but all the bosses are appointed by the Mayor and confirmed by the city council. If they really want you to change your mind, sometime here in the next week, I’ll have it explained to me how important it is for you to get on the right side of the ‘truth’.” He made air quotes around the last word.

“Mother?” Tamara asked, her eyes wide.

“You’d think she’d be okay, wouldn’t you? She works in a different state, for a school district. Except, Portland and Vancouver do a lot of favors for each other. Someone will call in a marker, and they’ll talk to your mom as well.”

It was on the tip of Tamara’s tongue to say it was unfair. But her dad shook his head before she could. “Tamara, your mom and I have tried to shelter you, you know that. You’ve had a rotten life, up until you came to us. No one should get dumped on worse than you’ve already had come down on you. I wish I could speak for Melly as well as myself, Tamara, but the fact is, while I’m all for truth, justice, and the American way, Melly is going to panic.

“You’re going to have to make up your own mind, here, Tamara. I promise you, no matter what you do, I will support you every step of the way. I want you to tell the truth, I do. But I will understand and still love you, if you decide that the cost is too high.”

Tamara blinked back tears. She knew about high costs and pain.

When Tamara had been five, she had a memory of looking up from where she’d been sitting, playing with her doll ‘Annie’ on her bed before going to sleep. Annie had been her best friend in the world, the one person who understood her. She’d looked up and all she remembered was a flash of light and then terrible, terrible pain. Pain that had seemed to last forever.

She never saw her parents again; they were dead. Her real mother had found her real father in bed with another woman. Her mother shot the couple, shot Tamara, then shot herself. Tamara never saw Annie again; she had no idea about what happened to her doll, to her only friend in the world. She only saw strangers. Strangers who lied to her virtually every time they talked to her, about virtually everything they talked about. She’d asked and asked; no one even so much as bothered to say anything at all.

No one wanted Tamara; none of her mother’s family had any money, her father’s brother was in jail. Tamara had healed slowly; crying every day isn’t the best way to get better. She finally was well enough to be placed with a foster family. The first one had skimped on taking care of her bandages; Tamara quickly ended up back in the hospital with a serious infection.

One foster house after another for nearly five years. Some were bad. Some were awful. She had been ten the first time she met Peter Hart. He had a nice smile, warm, inquisitive, understanding eyes. Tamara never really understood it, but the instant she saw him, she knew he was someone who wasn’t going to lie to her. Not ever. A day later, she met Melinda Hart, his wife. The two of them didn’t hit it off as well and never did later. But they respected each other, and that was all Tamara really wanted.