Chapter 36
ALICE
What a difference a day makes.
First my grandfather, and now this. Simeon really is an angel in a devil’s disguise because he is doing everything I wanted in finding my mom. I always felt her; hoped she was still alive because I never believed for a second that she died in the accident.
As we circle the airfield, my heart is shaking harder than any turbulence, and as we land, hope flares inside me for a good outcome.
Simeon takes my hand as we taxi to the stand and whispers with concern, “Don’t get your hopes up. Even if she is your mom, she may not remember or want to remember.”
“Why would you say that?”
I’m shocked, and he shakes his head. “There is a reason she left, if it is indeed her. Why would any mom stay away from her daughter, especially after her ex-husband died?”
“Perhaps she doesn’t know?”
“Perhaps – it’s a possibility, but unlikely. There must be some fascination with her past life that has her scouring the internet to be updated on it. It’s human nature, unless she has amnesia and won’t remember you.”
I say nothing because he speaks the truth.
I may not like what we find, but at least I will have found something, and even if she wants nothing to do with me, I will have the answers I seek.
Then again, it could be the wrong person, and I’ll be right back where I started.
Either way, I will have some kind of resolution, and I have my husband to thank for that.
Simeon has arranged for a couple of cars to meet us, driven by the guards who always travel with us. They are waiting at the foot of the steps, and as we set off on our journey, my heart is thumping hard.
My mind is frantically calculating what may happen and already making excuses for her. If the woman is my mom, of course.
We head along a dusty trail out of the town and the open countryside is admirable, beautiful, rugged and breathtaking. It’s as if we have left life behind and traveled back in time, and much like the convent, I’m guessing this place allows a soul to breathe.
It doesn’t take long before we pull off the road and pass through a huge wooden archway stating simply, Barren Ranch.
My heart lights up with excitement, and I whisper, “Is this where she lives?”
“I hope so.”
Simeon grips my hand for reassurance, but my stomach is churning. I can’t believe I may be about to meet my mom for the first time and I whisper,
“I was a baby when she left, sorry, died, and I’m not convinced I would recognize her.
There weren’t many photographs of her dotted around the house.
In fact, I can only remember one that I found one day when I was sorting out the attic.
Yet another one of Morgan’s punishments.
She was searching for something and locked me in there with my sisters, telling us that any documents we found were to be placed to one side for her to read.
We found a lot of documents that day, along with several photographs.
The only way I knew one was my mom because of the wording scribbled on the back of it. Saint-Tropez, Sarah.”
He searches for my fingers and threads them with his as I continue.
“I can still remember how my heart lurched as I stared at a woman who it hurt to look at. She was happy, beautiful, and must have been in her early twenties. She was laughing, and I traced every line of her face in that picture, while staring through the blur of my tears. Morgan never got to take that photograph. Instead, I hid it in my pants, and only when I was alone in my room did I take it out and hide it under a loose floorboard in the closet. It was all I had of my mom and to this day, it’s the only memory I have of her. ”
He says nothing as the cars pull up outside a large ranch house. It’s big but not grand, and I gaze with interest on the sturdy wooden porch with a swinging seat heaped with cushions.
The door flies open and I gasp when a woman stands there pointing a rifle at the car and hollers, “Get the hell out of here because I’ll be pissed if I have to dig your grave today.”
Simeon chuckles as I stare in shock. Jack’s laughter hits me from the front of the car.
I notice the guards from the car in front exit swiftly, their guns all pointing at the woman who shrieks, “For fuck’s sake. What did I do to deserve this shit?”
They disarm her and I wonder if she is all there mentally because who pulls a gun on a score of mafia guards. It’s insanity at its finest, and as the guards secure the area, Jack opens the door with an amused smirk.
“I like her already.”
The woman is now sitting on the swinging seat, glaring daggers at the men around her, but her eyes alight with interest as we head up the steps toward her.
She says nothing, and her gaze finds mine with natural curiosity, and my heart sinks.
This woman can’t be my mother. She must be in her sixties and life hasn’t been kind to her.
Her face is lined and weathered by the sun.
Her hair gray and tied in a ponytail behind her.
She is wearing a red plaid shirt and jeans tucked into cowboy boots, and yet she has a kind twinkle in her eyes that puts my mind at ease.
“Are you, um, Sarah?”
I hesitate, searching her expression for any sign of resemblance to the photograph—to me even, and she stares a little closer.
“Why, what do we have here?”
She doesn’t appear too concerned about the company I’m keeping and peers at me more closely.
“I’m, um, Alice…” I glance at Simeon because I’m a Ravera now, and he steps forward, fixing her with a polite smile.
“This is my wife, Alice, formerly known as Alice Zaferelli, her mom was Sarah Goldsworthy.”
If the names mean anything to this woman, you wouldn’t know it as she shakes her head. “Should I know you?”
My heart sinks.
It’s not her.
“May I ask your name?” Simeon asks politely, and I love that about him. He is a well-mannered criminal when it counts, and I would hate to come in here all guns blazing in our quest for answers.
“Annie–”
“It’s okay, Minnie.”
A soft voice wafts from the doorway, and my heart goes into freefall as I stare at a woman who can only be one thing. My mother.
She stares at me with tears running down her face, wiping them away, never breaking eye contact for a second.
“Alice.”
She whispers my name as if she’s afraid, and I stand rooted to the spot, not truly accepting she is here at all.
There is silence as every person here watches the scene, and she takes a small step toward me, and her voice shakes as she whispers, “I can’t believe you are here.”
Fear is evident in her eyes as she flicks them nervously around her, noting the cars and the company I keep.
“It’s, um, okay.”
I attempt to reassure her. “We haven’t come to cause trouble.”
Her shoulders relax and she nods toward the interior.
“Please come inside. We need to talk.”
Understatement of the century runs through my mind, and before she turns to lead the way, she smiles at the woman watching with interest.
“Thanks, Minnie. I don’t suppose you could bring some lemonade and offer some to, well–” She glances around at the silent centurions. “Everybody.”
“Sure thing, ma’am.”
I note with amusement that Minnie storms over to the guard who disarmed her and attempts to retrieve her gun.
He shakes his head.
“I will return it when we leave.”
“If you think that’s the only gun I own, you’re more stupid than you look.”
She grumbles, her boots loud on the wooden floor as she heads inside, throwing obscenities over her shoulder as she goes.
Mom laughs softly.
“Please forgive Minnie. She’s a fierce woman with a heart of gold and is only protecting me.”
She smiles at me, her gaze intense and all-encompassing, and as I follow her inside, I notice her anxiety, and my heart sinks.