Shaman's Blood Read Free Page B

expression. In her enraged state of mind, his silence had been worse than any answer. Furious, Alice had plunged ahead. “I looked it up. Incest means that a brother and a sister—” 
    “I know what it means.” Hal shut off the car. They were sitting in the curve of the long driveway, halfway to the house. “Let’s go for a walk. I need to explain some things to you.” The tone of his voice, normally so reassuring, was constricted, and Alice remembered how much that had frightened her.
    They’d walked a block down to the Miami River seawall and sat on a park bench, watching joggers and skaters pursuing their quest for physical perfection. Alice had cried until she had no tears left, and Hal had waited patiently until she’d finally asked, “Is it true?”
    “Only half. Yes, Suzanne is my sister, but I am not your father.”
    Alice sat stunned. “Then who is?”
    “A man you’ve never met, nor ever will.” He’d then told her of the death of Ned Waterston during his honeymoon expedition to Australia with his bride, twenty-four-year-old Suzie Blacksburg. Hal explained how, a few months after their departure, Suzanne had called home, barely in control of herself, with the news that she was stranded, alone and terrified, somewhere in Queensland and that something unspeakable had happened to her new husband. Beyond that, she was not very coherent.
    Hal had gotten on a plane and gone to fetch her. He explained how Suzanne, just visibly pregnant, had suffered a mental breakdown upon arriving home and how, when her baby was born, she seemed afraid to hold it or look at it, as if it might have some deformity. She was diagnosed as clinically depressed and spent time in and out of various private hospitals.
    Hal confessed with a catch in his throat that when Suzanne’s mental state did not improve as Alice entered childhood, he took it upon himself to become father as well as uncle, ignoring the fact that some day he would have to come clean. He’d apologized repeatedly that she’d had to learn about it from someone who didn’t understand the facts. Poor Hal, he’d been so truly miserable, she’d been afraid he would cry, too. As it was, the incident brought them closer, and she could not have loved him more if he’d been her real father, whose face Suzanne apparently saw whenever she looked at Alice. Why that was so horrible, her mother would never explain. Not even on her damned deathbed.
    Over the years, and once Alice had made her own life with a suitable husband and child, Suzanne had managed to reinvent herself. Still living with her brother, she'd become a fairly competent business woman. Something in real estate, Alice remembered. When Hal reached retirement age, they’d bought an upscale beach house on the Florida Gulf coast to be closer to Suzanne’s granddaughter. Alice frowned, remembering. After her divorce, Suzanne and Hal had tried to convince her that moving in with them would be safer, but she’d told them nothing doing. She loved her house in the woods with its second floor deck that faced into a sea beech, pine, and oak. Margaret had agreed with her—they weren’t leaving. Adjusting to life as a twosome had its rough patches, but they were making it work. And then, unexpectedly, there was Nik.
    Alice sighed and pressed herself against him. He’d been in the States a number of years, pursing a degree in Mycology, paying his way as a part-time illustrator at the museum, where she’d met him. They began seeing each other not long after her divorce. The fit was good, intellectually and other ways, and most importantly, Margaret liked him. He was her anchor now, with his wholesome Swedish family of parents and siblings overseas who cared for each other no matter what else was going on in their lives. She wondered what it would be like to live in a family like that.
    Suzanne had wanted to know all about Nik when Alice finally confessed, a few years ago, they were an item. It was ironic,