Andrew's two-story house was impressive, with its spotless tan siding and a beautifully flowered garden stretching along its length. He lived in a good part of town. As I parked across the street, a wave of unease washed over me. I couldn't simply approach his door and ask, "Hi, do you know Amber Catalano?" or say, "I might be your daughter who disappeared with her," without seeming weird or delusional. Despite knowing how crazy this sounded, I couldn't shake a faint thrill of excitement mixed with my discomfort. I figured he'd think I was nuts regardless of what I said. Maybe this plan was too reckless and should be dropped. As I debated whether to approach, I decided to talk it over with Zeke first, knowing he'd be angry if I went alone. Nodding in agreement with myself, I turned to leave. Just as I shifted into drive, a man stepped out of Andrew's front door. Tall, with slightly grey hair and a warm smile, he called out to me, signaling me to stay.
"Miss you, ok?" He yelled, "You seem lost."
He caught me off guard, and my mind went blank for a moment. I sat motionless in my car, staring at him as he walked towards me. The man had a striking resemblance to the sheriff, with a similar height, nose, and eyes. Even though his smile was kind, I still felt a little uncomfortable. He didn't seem threatening like his father. Finally, my voice came back, and I was able to respond.
"Oh, Um, u-u-u I'm fine," I said, giving him my best smile. "I was looking for a man named Andrew Dawson." I knew it was him standing in front of me, but I just needed clarification. He looked taken aback by my words.
"Why are you looking for him?" He asks cautiously.
"He may have been an old friend of my mother's," I say as he reaches my window and takes a good look at my face.
"Amber," he whispers. His face goes white as if he's seen a ghost. He must be in shock. Many people have told me my resemblance to my mom is uncanny. We looked a lot alike.
"No, Amber was my mother, and I think you may be my father," he backs away from the vehicle as I put it in park and shut off the engine. I didn't mean to blurt that out. When I get nervous, I have verbal diarrhea and blurt things without thinking.
"There's no way. The Catalanos disappeared, and no one has heard from them. Is this a sick joke?" he asked in a demanding voice. I try to explain everything.
"Ok, I know it all sounds crazy, but give me a minute to explain. My name is Roxanne Sleighton. Roxy to my friends. My mom's name was Amber Sleighton." He just stood staring at me with no emotion on his face.
"Then how can she be a Catalano when her name is Sleighton?
"Can I come in and talk to you about it more?"
"Umm, I'm not sure if that's a good idea. I don't know you, and how do I know anything you say is true?"
Grabbing my bag with documents from the backseat, I exit the vehicle.
"Inside this bag are documents that might help you understand everything. I just bought the Catalano family house."
He still didn't seem as if he believed me, but I could see he was giving in to my request. He seemed curious but confused.
"Let's sit on the porch. I don't feel comfortable with a stranger in my house." Ouch, that hurt, but what did I expect?
For the next hour, we delved deep into the details about Amber and the similarities to my mom. I was careful not to reveal any of the damning evidence I had against his father, not knowing how he felt about him. We scrutinized all the paperwork, cross-referencing every detail. Even Mr. Dawson, who was initially skeptical, could not deny the striking resemblance and uncanny similarities between my mother and Amber.
However, the final piece of evidence was the diary found in her room. The leather-bound book, with pages filled to the brim with emotional outpourings, I handed over to him. As we read through a few entries, I could see the weight of the truth finally sink in on his face.
"You know, I never knew what happened to her and the baby. I just assumed they both died since the family disappeared without a trace." Looking up at me, there were tears in his eyes.
"I don't think Amber died, I'm pretty sure she was my mom and ran away with me."
"You think you're our baby? The one she mentions in the diary?" He asked.
"I'm not sure, that is why I wanted to track you down,"
"Why do you need me?" he asks.
"DNA!" I blurt out, "If you're my father, it will confirm everything."
"No way, kid." His tone turned angry, "You come here, bring all these painful memories up, and then want my DNA."
"I'm-m-m sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. I'm just trying to figure things out." Tears start to stream down my face. Grabbing the information, I stuff it back in my bag.
"I think it's better if you leave. I can't deal with this right now," he says as he walks into his house, slamming the door loudly.
Not waiting around to see if he came back out, I rush to my car. Before getting in the car, I take one last look back at his house, scanning every window, hoping to catch one last glimpse of him. Coming here, I hoped that Andrew could provide a vital answer or clues to the mystery surrounding my mother and her family. But now a sense of defeat was creeping in. Getting in the car, I started the engine and drove away from him, leaving my hopes and dreams of finding my father behind. My next destination was the hospital and Zeke. I needed to tell him about what was going on. Hopefully, he wouldn't be angry about my little trip without him.
Driving back to the hospital, my mind kept replaying what just happened with Andrew. If he wasn't willing to do a DNA test, then I needed to come up with another way to prove my theory. What that way will be has me baffled. The drive back seemed faster, and before I realized it, my car was pulling into the hospital parking lot. Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I exited my car and headed into the hospital for Zekes' room.
He was lying in his bed, looking tired, when I entered. The moment he saw me, his face brightened with a big smile.
"Hey Z, how are you feeling?" Walking over to his bedside, I sat down in the chair.
"I'm still in pain, but it's getting better," he replied, looking up at her. "What have you been up to today?" he gave me a curious look, like he knew I was up to no good. He could read me like no one else."
"Well, I went on an adventure, that's why I came to see you," Hesitating for a moment before continuing to let my words sink in. "I may have found Andrew Dawson and went to his house." Zeke's expression changed to confused and worried in a matter of seconds.
"What do you mean, you went to Andrew Dawson's house? By yourself?" he practically yelled. His concern and anger were evident in his face.
"Yes, but he was polite, not scary. I only showed him what I had on Amber and my mother," I explained, trying to make him understand.
"Damn it, Rocky. You could have gotten hurt," his voice full of concern, still agitated. It hurt me; he was so upset. Grabbing his hand, trying to reassure him, I continued to tell him how everything unfolded and Andrew's reaction to it all. The only thing left was for me to sincerely apologize for putting myself in an unknown situation without him.
"Can you blame him? You dump all of this on him and bring up old memories. I would have been worried had he reacted any other way," Z stated.
"Well, no, but uh, I just wanted at least to get answers to this part of the mystery, I'm sorry, Z." He tugs on my hand, pulling me up, then tugs me onto the bed. My body is sitting beside his. He pulls me into his arms, providing a sense of security. We stayed hugging for a while.
A knock on the door pulled us out of our embrace. A nurse had come in, handing Zeke his discharge papers, explaining his aftercare instructions for his wound. We both nodded. For the next couple of weeks, he would be using crutches.
I knew Zekes' biggest fear was how he would be able to protect us. I needed him to realize he could depend on me, too. It was my turn to protect him by not going home tonight. Relaying my worries to him, he agreed. The windows had not been fixed or boarded up. We also needed time to process everything that happened and figure out our next steps. Instead of heading home, we decided to spend the night in the hotel.
As soon as we arrived in the hotel room, we called his parents to let them know he had been discharged and where we were staying. His dad said he would have the crew at our house tomorrow to help fix any damage, and the window technicians would be at the house around two tomorrow to fix the windows. His dad was a great help. The day after the incident, when the house had been cleared, he went over and boarded up the windows. That took one worry off my shoulders.
We spent the remainder of our night deciding how to move forward, not only the mystery of the family, but also what happened at Andrews. Another thing we need to be cautious about is the sheriff finding out about my impromptu trip. What kind of repercussions would fall back on us?
The next day, we arrived back at the house early in the morning. Walking up the steps, a swirl of emotions took over. On one hand, the relief of being in familiar surroundings, but on the other hand, I still couldn't shake the sense of unease that had settled in my stomach. Glancing over at Zeke, who was behind me on crutches, staring at me intently.
"I'm fine, Z, I promise," hoping these words reassure us both. He smiled at me.
Smiling back, I gripped the doorknob tightly. Pushing the door open, we stepped inside to face the memory of what happened the other night. For just a moment, I froze at the doorway, hesitating. He must have sensed it because he hopped past me on his crutches, motioning me with his head to follow. Feeling a sense of determination settling over me, I decided not to let fear control my life, not when so much is at stake.
As we approached the living room, all of the lights in the house came on, glowing brightly. It only lasted for a few seconds, and they all shut back off, leaving the house in darkness. Almost simultaneously, a scream rang through the house. My heart raced as shock took over. I ran over to the light switch and flicked it on; the lights flooded the hallway.
"D-d-d-did you see that?" I stuttered, turning to Zeke, who just nodded in response. We cautiously entered the living room, which was still dark, and the boards on the window only added to the eerie atmosphere. My hands trembled as I reached for the lights. As the lights glowed, we could see that the glass had been cleaned up from the floor and furniture.
"Sit down with me, Rocky," Zeke motions me to the couch. I sat down beside him, still contemplating what had happened with the electricity. So many logical reasons ran through my head. Maybe there was an electrical surge.
"Is that all you can say? Sit down with me? All of the lights in the house just turned on and shut off."
"This is not the weirdest thing that has happened to us here." He said, trying to reassure me. Sighing, I lean back against the couch.
"I'm sorry, Zeke," I say quietly, " I just have been all over the place emotionally since you got hurt and someone tried to kill us. I feel bad I got you into this mess."
"Rocky quit apologizing. I'm here because I want to be, not because I have to."
"I know. I'm going to get our bags out of the car. I'll be right back." Quickly jumping up, I leaned over, kissed him on the lips, and headed outside. Anxiety was still living rent-free in my bones. How to shake it was eluding me. For the moment, I decided to focus on the task at hand, the bags. As I was retrieving them from the back, the distinct sound of tires on the driveway could be heard. Before I turned around, there was a familiar voice behind me.
"Miss Sleighton, it seems we need to have a chat." Turning around, I came face to face with the sheriff.