Book Of Days_ A Novel Part 28

"Yeah. Muscle spasm. Fine." Taylor patted his chest.

Taylor sat on her right, Tricia on her left. The hidden looks Tricia kept giving Taylor weren't well concealed. She was obviously concerned about something going on in her husband's head. And it was evident the something had to do with Ann. His strange behavior was definitely an interesting little subplot to add to Cameron's quest.

"I read your columns in The Oregonian The Oregonian growing up, and now you're writing for fly-fis.h.i.+ng magazines?" Ann said. "Is fis.h.i.+ng a hobby of yours?" growing up, and now you're writing for fly-fis.h.i.+ng magazines?" Ann said. "Is fis.h.i.+ng a hobby of yours?"

Taylor answered by springing from his chair and trotting over to the built-in oak bookshelves next to the fireplace. He returned with a large blue photo alb.u.m and flipped it open on the table next to Ann. The pages were filled with pictures of Taylor fly-fis.h.i.+ng, captions underneath with dates scrawled in a blue pen, and the names of at least forty different rivers throughout the western part of the United States.

As Ann flipped through the pictures, Taylor asked, "Why didn't you take the NBC job when they offered to buy out your contract? I know your show is national, but NBC had to be offering you more money than you're making now."

Ann looked up in surprise. "Wow, you really did do some research on me."

"I've been a newspaper man for thirty years. It's hard to get it out of the system, you know?" Taylor filled up Ann's water gla.s.s.

"I think success should be measured in wealth of friends.h.i.+ps, not things. And I wanted to keep my portfolio intact as much as possible."

Tricia answered with a smile and a nod. Taylor didn't respond.

For a few minutes the only sound was the clink of forks and knives.

"So you're in Three Peaks to help Cameron look into the Book of G.o.d legend?" Taylor finally asked.

"Book of Days. Days." Ann took a bite of salad and turned to Tricia. "That is excellent. The walnuts make it, don't you think?" She turned back to Taylor. "You didn't come to Jason's reception, obviously."

"We had to leave early," Taylor said.

"I'm mainly here on a personal matter, and I'm giving Cameron a little bit of help when I can."

"So do you think it exists? The book?" Tricia asked.

"Well-"

"Let's jump off before we go too far down this track. Talking about that book is a complete waste of conversation." Taylor folded his arms across his chest.

"I thought you just asked what she thinks about the book-"

"No, I asked her why she was in Three Peaks, not what-"

"Let the girl speak." Tricia gave Taylor a light smack on his wrist.

Ann pushed a piece of asparagus across her plate. "No, I don't think there's any chance that something like that could be real."

"Finally. Maybe you can talk some sense into the kid."

"I'm trying, Taylor." She smiled.

Tricia excused herself to get dessert and Ann got up to help clear off the table. Both Taylor and Tricia protested, but Ann carried the dishes into the kitchen anyway.

As she made her way back and forth between the kitchen and the dining room, Ann considered Taylor's neonlike reactions to her. Tricia was right; Ann certainly made him feel uncomfortable, but why? She couldn't come right out and ask him, and he wasn't giving away any clues. And his odd responses to the subject of the Book of Days? As Cam suspected, Taylor was undoubtedly involved. How deep wasn't easy to guess. At least not yet.

Dessert was chocolate torte, served along with decaf coffee and French vanilla creamer. Ann struggled to eat it slowly. It slid down her throat like edible silk. Chocolate was her bane but at the same time a tremendous motivator for rock climbing to torch the unwanted calories. As long as you lived long enough to climb again.

After they finished, Tricia asked about Ann's personal reason for being in Three Peaks.

"I lived in foster homes from the time I was a kid till I went off to college. My mom abandoned me when I was eleven, and I didn't want to know anything about her." Ann sipped her coffee. "And I didn't care about where I'd come from."

"But something changed your mind?"

"Three months ago I moved from my apartment into a house. The last box I unpacked was covered with silver duct tape so old it was brittle. As I yanked open the box, I realized I hadn't seen what was inside since I was eleven. Books. All my books from childhood, full of the worlds I escaped into when I was a kid. Pippi Longstocking, Anne of Green Gables-who I've always imagined I was named after-Judy Blume's stories ... I sat for three hours taking lap after lap around memory lane. The last book I opened-Treasure Island-was one I never read. I was a bit too young for it, I suppose. As I leafed through its pages, a picture fluttered to the hardwood floor and landed facedown.

"The back had my mom's name written on it and the date the photo was taken. I turned it over and looked at the only picture I have of my mom from when she was a kid." Ann swallowed and stared at her plate. "It's the only shot I have of her period."

"You decided it was time to find out where you came from."

Ann nodded at Tricia and took another sip of coffee.

"And that picture led you here?" Tricia said.

"Yes, and I think this picture is worth one-hundred-thousand words. If only I could get it to talk."

"What do you mean?"

"I think I know where the picture was taken, but I have no idea who the other kids in the photo are. I would love to find out. Because they might still be alive and they could tell me who my mom was and where she came from."

"Did you bring it with you?"

Ann excused herself to get the photo from her purse. This was it. Time to see if her intuition had been sending her right signals when it told her to get the photo in front of Tricia and Taylor.

She eased back into her chair. It felt like she was stepping onto a six-inch ledge five-hundred feet above the ground.

Ann slid the facedown picture into the center of the table and flipped it over.

An instant later Taylor's fork slipped from his hand and clanged onto his dessert plate.

"Thank you for a wonderful evening, Tricia." Ann stood on the porch and zipped up her Windbreaker more out of habit than need. The temperature felt like it was still in the upper sixties at least.

"Would you like to take a little stroll together? We could take in some of the night air." Tricia leaned in like a seventh grader about to describe which boy at school she had a crush on.

"Sure, I'd love to." Ann breathed in the pine-scented evening air and held it. Portland beat every other place on earth when the sun shone, but she was beginning to think Three Peaks was a close second.

"I'm sorry once again for Taylor traipsing off into his writing room right in the middle of dessert. I don't know what got into him."

"I upset him; I'm sorry."

Tricia stifled a tiny laugh. "Yes, I think you did, most of the evening." She leaned toward Ann. "I loved it."

"Do you mind me asking, does Taylor always drop his fork when thirtysomething women show old photos from when their moms were kids?"

Tricia shook her head and smiled. "That reaction convinced me of something I've suspected since the moment I first saw you."

"And that is?"

"I wonder if people get tired of me saying, 'I think Taylor better tell you more about that'?"

"Without question."

She laughed and Tricia joined in.

They walked in silence, in a warm kind of comfort. Was this what it felt like to take a late evening walk with a mother who cared about you?

"So tell me about Taylor and the Book of Days," Ann said after they'd strolled another block down the street.

"He's always felt the same way about it as you do. That it's nothing worth spending a breath on. At least that's what he's always said."

"What do you think?"

"I'll tell you what I told Cameron. My husband's been acting strange ever since the two of you came into town."

"Cameron thinks whatever the Book of Days' story is, Taylor holds the key."

"I sure hope the two of you feel that way." Tricia's smile almost turned to laughter. "If you hadn't figured that out, I'd have worried you weren't as bright as I thought."

CHAPTER 31.

Two Years, Six Months EarlierCameron's Christmas present to Jessie that year had been a trip to Disneyland with another couple. All four had gone nonstop from the time the gates opened each morning till the fireworks of brilliant greens, blues, and reds exploded over Cinderella's castle each night. The lines were long but they worked their Fast Pa.s.ses with precision, and by the end of third day, they were all wiped out but basked in the fun of being kids again."Great memories," one of the men said as they strolled toward Disneyland's Main Street on their way back to the hotel."I'll never forget this trip," his wife added."But we won't remember every moment of our lives, will we?" Jessie asked."Not all. We'll cut out the boring parts, but we'll definitely remember the highlights," Cameron said."So where do our memories go when we forget them or ... when we die?""Oh boy," chimed in the other man. "Look out, Jessie's going deep again."Cameron's smile faded. He'd said almost the same words to his dad the last time he saw him six years earlier."Where do the memories go?" the wife of the other couple said. "I thought everyone knew they went to Tasmania."The other couple laughed. Cameron didn't and stopped walking.Jessie stopped as well, but the other couple kept moseying along, plunking blue cotton candy into their mouths."Are you all right?""Great." She forced a smile and bonked Cameron on the head with her Mickey Mouse balloon."Wow, I like that, keep doing it please."Jessie slumped onto a bench, a statue of Walt a few yards behind her, and Cameron slid down beside her and wrapped her in his arms."What's going on? Are you b.u.mmed because Pirates was shut down this trip?""I'm fine, Cam, really.""And I'm Goofy, really."She pulled her Mickey balloon into her chest. "Maybe G.o.d writes our memories down, hmm?"As Cameron crossed his leg, the loss of his father welled up in his heart. Yeah it would be wonderful if G.o.d did.He missed his dad so much. His laugh, his kindness, his quirky sense of humor. Where were his dad's memories? When he was losing his mind, did the memories float into nothingness, or were they stored somewhere for eternity?Cameron hadn't thought about his last conversation with his dad in months, maybe a year. A book with all days in it. He sighed. If only it were true.A hundred years from now, even fifty, would anyone remember his dad answering his phone at home with "Joe's Bar and Grill, Joe speaking"?Would they remember the swimming contest he had with his best friend's son in the community park? Would they recall the banner hanging over the pool that said, Old Age and Wisdom Beats Youth and Hair Every Time?"Sitting in this park where make-believe comes true, you could almost convince me your G.o.d does exactly that. I wish He did."Jessie turned and looked over his shoulder toward the lights of s.p.a.ce Mountain. "What if it's true? What if it could be more than a wish? What if He does write down what happens in our lives, in everyone's life?""Like some cosmic high-school yearbook put together by the supreme being of the universe?""Something like that." She turned away.Cameron shook his head and gave what he imagined was a melancholy smile. Jessie sure could stretch her imagination beyond the confines of normal human cogitation. "I love your insanity. One of the countless reasons I'll love you for eternity."He watched the back of her head, the breeze making her hair wave like ribbons, waiting for her to look up at him."Baby?" Cameron reached out and touched her elbow.Still no turn back."What is it?" He s.h.i.+fted till he saw her face. A pair of tears wound their way down her tanned cheeks. "Talk to me.""Life is so short.""Not for us. Twenty-eight now means you're stuck with me for a least another fifty years. Maybe sixty.""So short."Her hands were cold as he took them."Why are you saying that?""I'm okay, really." Smiling, she took his hands and placed them on her cheeks. "I'll tell you later, okay?""How about telling me now?"She stood and offered her hand. Cameron took it, raised her long fingers to his lips, and kissed them."Just promise me you'll remember this conversation, okay?""I will. Always and forever."

CHAPTER 32.

Cameron sat in Java Jump Start on Sat.u.r.day morning tapping his foot in double-time waiting for Ann to arrive, wis.h.i.+ng for a better camera than the one on his cell phone. One iPhone with a two-year contract? $99. A Three Peaks white chocolate mocha? $3.75. The look on Ann's face when he told her what he'd found? Priceless.

He sipped his drink and skimmed a brochure on white-water river rafting and another one on joining Broken Top, apparently one of the premier private golf courses in the area.

Where was she?

He glanced at his watch again.

Five minutes later Ann walked in with a knowing smile. She winked at him and ordered what sounded like an extra hot caramel macchiato.

After getting her drink, she slid into the dark brown chair next to Cameron. "I had a riveting dinner last night with Taylor and Tricia Stone."

"And I had a fascinating search party with Arnold Peasley." He toasted her with his cup. "Do you want to go first?"

"Sure, even though I can tell you're about ready to explode."

"Guilty as charged. But I promise to contain myself."

"I'll give you the headlines. First, Tricia confirmed that Taylor definitely knows more than he's telling about the Book of Days, and second, when I showed them my mom's photo, Taylor just about had a heart attack. He actually got up and left the room right after I pulled out the picture. I asked Tricia about it, and she said me describing that photo convinced her of something she suspected from the moment she first saw me."

"That's it?"

Ann flicked him on the forehead with her ring finger.

"Hey, that hurts!"

"Good." Ann took a drink of her caramel macchiato. "What do you mean 'that's it?'"

"I was trying to be funny."

Ann gave him a plastic smile.

"You want to hear about my visit with Arnold?" He folded his hands and leaned forward on the table.

She nodded.

"We didn't do any digging."

"You mean he wouldn't let you look, or he didn't have any papers from the sixties?"

"I mean, we didn't have have to do any digging. Not only did he have the papers, old Pease went right to the three papers in question so quick I think he should rename himself Dewey." to do any digging. Not only did he have the papers, old Pease went right to the three papers in question so quick I think he should rename himself Dewey."

"What?"

"Dewey Decimal, don't you remember that from library when you were a kid?"

"You're getting off track, Cameron. Tell me what you found."

"Right, we were talking about..." His mind went blank. Was it libraries? Why would he and Ann be talking about libraries? He took a long drink of his white chocolate mocha as the bowling ball returned to his gut. It was a nice slice of pop psychology to tell himself not to worry about the future because life could end at any time. But it didn't work so well when the loss of his mind made living in the present a nightmare.

He grabbed the edge of the table. Tight. Maybe it was time to see a doctor. Find out if his memories were disappearing because of stress or because his mind was truly- "Do you want me to insert a drum roll here?" Ann said. "Are you thinking drawing out the suspense will make it more exciting when you tell me?"

Think! He was telling her about ... basketball? No, was it? Someone who used to play ... Peasley! Arnold's newspapers. Yes. The article from the sixties. He was telling her about ... basketball? No, was it? Someone who used to play ... Peasley! Arnold's newspapers. Yes. The article from the sixties.

"Are you sweating?"

He wiped his forehead with a napkin and tried to smile. "Coffee that's too hot always does that to me."

"So are you going to tell me about what you found?"