“You’re right.” How stupid of her. Children had big ears. Sam might be listening to Samantha and Darrin Stevens banter playfully about marriage and witchcraft, but might just as well be listening to them. “I’m sorry, Katie. I can see something’s bothering you. I know you’d rather talk to one of your friends, but—”
“Mom, don’t.” Katie dropped a dishrag in the sink. She braced her fingers against the edge. Then, as if reaching a decision, she grabbed a towel and crossed to the table. “It’s not about Lyle.” Drying her hands, she took the seat across from Doreen Sue.
For a time she said nothing, her expression unreadable. Fearing she would clam up again, Doreen Sue bit her tongue. Instinct made her want to coax, but that wasn’t the way with Katie. Tightening her fingers around her coffee cup, she waited.
Finally, Katie drew a breath. “I need to ask you something.” She lowered her voice so Sam wouldn’t overhear. “And I need you to be truthful.”
A fluttery laugh pushed from Doreen Sue’s throat. “Truthful? Katie, honey, what else would I be?” The word wounded her, but she had it coming. How many white lies had she told in the days when she’d run around with one man after another? When she’d woken up, passed out on the couch or hung over in the morning?
Mama has the flu, baby….
Mama’s going to meet an old friend from school….
Mama can’t take you to the movies. She’s got to visit a sick friend.
Shamed when Katie didn’t answer—they both knew there was reason for the question—she lowered her gaze and nodded. “I promise.”
“Back when I was a kid…the summer before the bridge fell…” Katie spoke haltingly, the inflection of her voice uncertain.
Doreen Sue glanced up, surprised by the concentration on her daughter’s face. Her brows were pulled together, the damp dish towel twisted between her hands.
“You took me with you to Ravenswood when you went to see some psychic. I don’t think it was about anything special, just one of those readings you liked to have done.”
Doreen Sue tensed. She’d been certain her daughter had forgotten the events of that night. At the time, unable to explain the odd encounter on their drive home, Doreen Sue had assured Katie she’d been dreaming. She’d kept up the falsehood until Katie stopped talking about the incident. Like a dream that gradually fades over time, growing murkier until forgotten, Doreen Sue was convinced the encounter had faded from her daughter’s memory.
But Doreen Sue had never forgotten. She’d stood in that blinding light and gazed up into the sky, mesmerized by the circular craft hovering above the tree line.
“Coming home there was a light,” Katie continued. “You stopped the car, and when I woke up, there was a blinding glow.”
What she wouldn’t give for a cigarette. Doreen Sue swallowed hard, thinking of the Virginia Slims menthols in her purse. But Katie didn’t smoke and didn’t allow it in her home.
Katie leaned forward. “You told me I was dreaming.”
“You were.”
“Mom.” She recoiled as if physically pushed. “You told me you’d be honest. Was it a UFO?”
Trapped.
Silly that it had taken all this time to admit. Doreen Sue had shared the story with others over the years, but never mentioned Katie was with her. She’d changed the date, said she was driving home alone when the incident happened. Let them ridicule her if they wanted, but not her daughter. The tale had made her friends with some, and left her scorned by others.
“I…” If only she could wiggle her nose like Samantha Stevens and rewind the scene for a better outcome. Katie watched her intently, waiting for her answer. At last, she nodded and lowered her voice. “Yeah. I think it was a UFO.”
Exhaling, as if a burden had been lifted from her shoulders, Katie sat back in her chair. “I’ve been trying to remember all day, but can only grasp bits and pieces. Mostly, I remember the light. Will you tell me what happened?”
Doreen Sue wet her lips. She should be grateful her daughter was genuinely interested, but feared dooming Katie to the same pitfalls that had befallen her all those years ago—odd visitors who’d warned her not to speak of what she’d seen, rapping noises on the walls at night, sounds on the roof, open cupboard doors in the kitchen as if an unseen presence had rooted through her things. She hadn’t felt that fear in ages, but the ripples of dread, long forgotten, awakened gooseflesh on her arms.
“You were right about the psychic,” she said at last. “A few of my friends had gone to see her so I thought I’d give it a try. Kicks and giggles, that sort of thing.” She shrugged. The psychic had been a bust. Worse, she’d given up a date with Heywood Fuller to go, even though he probably would have ditched her, anyway. He’d only asked her out because he was on the rebound from his ex. The two were now happily married.
“We were near the TNT when it happened. You were lying in the back seat, half asleep. I probably kept you out later than I should have.” No probably about it, but at least it had been a Friday night.
She moved restlessly, conscious Katie hung on her every word. Paul Lynde’s voice drifted from the living room followed by Sam’s laughter. Uncle Arthur had dropped in on Bewitched.
“I can still see it.” She tuned out the laugh track from the TV and the homey decorations of the kitchen, much like someone closing a door. An image of the sleek metallic craft grew in her mind. “It was silvery, but with an icy cast, and hovered a few feet above the trees. Round and kind of flat with a large light underneath. The light reminded me of an eye because it kept shifting about, casting a beam on the ground. There were other lights too—red and blue—on the side of the thing. I don’t know what it was, but it wasn’t a blimp, and it was far too low to be a plane. I hit the brakes and skidded off the road. That’s when the thing saw me.”