TWENTY-ONE
Mercy zipped up her black jacket and shoved her gloves in her pockets as she looked longingly at the B&B’s comfy bed. Exhaustion and nerves made her want to crawl under the covers, but she knew she’d never get to sleep. Only one thing helped her calm her nerves when she was stressed. Her late-night jaunt from the hotel two nights ago had soothed her brain and made her feel as if she wasn’t spinning her wheels. She needed that sense of accomplishment before she had the right to relax.
Someone knocked on her door.
Eddie? She’d told him good night an hour ago, at nine o’clock.
She looked through the peephole and caught her breath.
Kaylie Kilpatrick. Her niece.
The hall light made the teen’s nose stud sparkle as she glanced to the right and left. Impatience crossed her face and she knocked again.
Does she know who I am?
Why would she be here if she didn’t?
Mercy realized she wouldn’t be leaving the B&B tonight. She flipped both the locks and opened the door.
Kaylie stood still, studying Mercy’s face. Mercy let her stare as she did her own examination.
Mercy had a good four inches on the teen, and Kaylie’s hair was lighter, but the eyes were the same.
“You’re my aunt,” the girl stated.
“Yes.”
“My name’s Kaylie.”
“I know,” said Mercy, unable to think of a better reply.
Kaylie glanced to the right and left again. “Can I come in for a minute? I’d like to talk to you.”
Against her better judgment, Mercy stepped back and let her enter. Kaylie glanced around the room and then sat on the chair by a tiny desk. Her eyes widened as she focused on Mercy’s jacket. “Oh. Were you leaving?”
“It’s nothing that can’t wait.” Mercy closed the door, slipped off her jacket, and sat on the bed with a silent sigh, facing the teen. “Did your dad tell you who I am?”
“Yes.” Kaylie’s gaze still tracked Mercy from head to toe. “After you guys left with your coffee on Monday, I asked him why he was being weird. I hounded him until he told me this afternoon.” Her brows narrowed as she stared. “I can see a resemblance. People always say I look like Aunt Pearl, but I think I look more like you. Dad said you were kicked out of the family, but he won’t tell me why.” She looked at Mercy expectantly.
“I think if your father didn’t share that story, then he has a good reason. I’m not ready to talk about it.”
Disappointment covered Kaylie’s face. “I thought you’d say that.”
“Why are you here, Kaylie?”
The girl looked down at her clenched hands. “I want to leave town when I graduate from high school.”
Mercy waited.
“My father doesn’t want me to.”
Mercy didn’t know what the girl expected from her, the estranged aunt. “What about your mother?”
“My dad has full custody. My mom remarried. She has another family now.”
The pang in the girl’s voice made Mercy’s heart break. “I’m sorry, Kaylie.”
The girl waved her hand, brushing all thoughts of her mother to the side. “I’m over it. But you left town after high school, right?”
Caution flooded Mercy. “That’s right.”
“You went to college and now you’re doing your own thing. I want that! Dad wants me to attend the community college in Bend.”
“That’s not a bad idea—”
“But I want to get away! I can’t live here. I want to see stuff and travel and meet new people!” Her eyes pleaded with Mercy.
She took a deep breath. “Kaylie, I’m not sure this is any of my business. Your family and I—”
“I know. I know. You haven’t spoken in forever. But could you help me figure out how to pay for a college that’s farther away? I want to do what you did . . . leave this crappy town behind and learn about different things. I don’t want to be a mom, grow a garden, store food, and raise a crop of kids. I want to do things.”
“I’m not sure you should be talking to me—”
“I don’t care if you’re shunned by the family.”
Mercy held up a hand. “That’s not what I meant. You should be talking to your counselor at school. It’s their job to help you find the best route to college. There’s financial aid and scholarships. Stay in state and you can probably afford it. How are your grades?”
“Mostly As.”
“That’s a good start. You’re a junior, right? Keep the grades up and start doing your scholarship research.”
“I’ve talked to my counselor about college. He always asks what my dad wants me to do.”
Mercy took a strong dislike to Kaylie’s counselor. “Then lie.”
Kaylie stared at Mercy for a long moment. “Why will no one talk about you? There are no pictures of you at Grandma and Grandpa’s house. I’ve looked.”
Mercy couldn’t speak.
No photos. As if I don’t exist.
Kaylie looked down. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I assumed you were over it.”
Mercy blinked a few times, wondering what the teen had seen in her expression. “It’s a long story. It’s complicated.”
Annoyance crossed Kaylie’s face as she met Mercy’s gaze. “You’re definitely related to Dad. That’s exactly what he said.” She studied Mercy intently. “Do you have kids? Are you married?”
“No and no.”
“How did you come to work for the FBI?” Kaylie tipped her head in concentration. A movement reminiscent of Rose when she was listening closely.
“I applied a few years after college,” Mercy said. “I’d studied criminal justice believing I wanted to be a crime scene investigator. Then the FBI caught my eye.”
Kaylie nodded, her brows still together. Mercy knew she was memorizing every word she said and felt the heavy weight of giving life advice to her niece. “Do something you love,” she told the teen.
The teen’s posture relaxed. “I love food,” she said in a dreamy voice, gazing into the distance. “I love to cook, but I especially love to bake. I make all the pastries at the coffee shop. I’d be happy doing that all day long.” She straightened. “But I don’t want to do it in Eagle’s Nest. I want to do it where it’s busy and the atmosphere is electric. I see the same people over and over here.”
“Obviously you don’t need a college education to follow that dream, but I’d recommend getting a degree first anyway. College would be your opportunity to expand your horizons and see more of the world. Then you can figure out where you want to pursue your passion.”
“But how did you do it? How did you pay for all that?”
Images from her college years flashed and faded, reminders of how meager her resources had been. “Money was tight, but that was nothing new to me. What was new was learning to hustle. I learned how to ask questions, dig for answers, and swallow my pride. I knew if wanted to make it on my own, I had to learn how to make things happen. No one was going to hand me anything . . . I had to go get it. Before I went to college I worked three different jobs, lived in an apartment with three other people, and ate a lot of ramen noodles. I haunted my financial aid advisor’s office and constantly searched for ways to get the most value for my dollar. It was definitely a new world for me. It wasn’t Eagle’s Nest.”
Kaylie nodded. “Everyone around here tells me to focus on being ready for the future, but they mean staying put in Eagle’s Nest to wait for our government to collapse.” She wrinkled her nose. “I think my dad has second thoughts about that ever happening.”
“How is that?”
She gave a teenage shrug. “Even though he preaches to me about how ideal Eagle’s Nest is, he doesn’t go help Grandpa the way he used to. They had a big fight about a year ago—I don’t know what it was about, but he’s stepped back from Grandpa’s community since then. I’ve seen him avoid phone calls and meetings.”
“I assume he still visits with his friends?” Mercy had a million questions, but she held back. She didn’t want to pull Kaylie into the divide between her and the rest of her family. She’d made good progress with three of her siblings, but knew she needed to take it slow.
Even though Kaylie had taken the first step when she knocked on her door.
“Some of them. But he’s been short tempered lately. I heard him tell David Aguirre to go to hell.”
“The minister?”
“Yeah, Dad hasn’t ever really liked him. Says he’s a liar and shouldn’t be preaching to others.”
Levi and I agree on that.
“I think David was always more of Owen’s friend, not your dad’s,” said Mercy. “At least that’s how it used to be.”
“It’s still that way. David is part of Grandpa’s circle,” added Kaylie.
Mercy nodded. Her father had always surrounded himself with people he believed would have his back in an uncertain future. Mercy wondered if it had been Owen’s doing to include David in that tight-knit circle. Did he have other skills besides preaching? Engineering skills? Livestock? Botany? Maybe her father thought it was prudent to have one of God’s servants on his side.
She didn’t snort out loud.
“I don’t think society is going to fall apart,” Kaylie said softly. “How can my life revolve around preparing for something that I don’t think will ever happen?” She turned pleading eyes to her aunt.
Mercy understood. She’d had the same thought a million times and struggled with the conflict it’d created in her soul. She’d watched her parents systematically prepare for an uncertain future, but at the same time watched the rest of the world moving on as normal. A foreign market would crash, her parents would tense, convinced it was the first step, and nothing would happen. Americans still went to school, went to work, bought groceries, and rode their bikes.
Are they living a lie?
“I know how you feel,” Mercy started. She paused, knowing it wasn’t her place to tell the girl what to do. “All I can tell you is how I’ve dealt with those feelings. The preparing and looking ahead has been ingrained in your life from birth, right?”
Kaylie nodded.
“But if you step away, you’ll feel worried, insecure . . . like you’re walking on a tightrope. No matter how badly I wanted to relax and enjoy a normal life, the doubt crept up and I wondered if I was foolish for not doing simple things like storing extra food or maintaining an alternative power supply. Do you worry that if you leave for college and start a new life that you’ll find out your dad was right to prepare for an uncertain future? And that you’ll suffer for it?”
“Yes! Every day.” Kaylie was hanging on every word.
“Then how can you do both at the same time?”
Her niece’s eyes widened. “Do both? How?”
Mercy saw the wheels start to turn.
“Is that what you do?” Kaylie’s voice rose an octave. “You haven’t fully given it up? But what about a community? Who will you rely on to help you?”
“I rely on myself,” Mercy whispered, feeling as if her entire obsessive-compulsive soul was on display for her niece.
“How?”
“Make a plan. It’s possible, but it’s not the same as having a circle of like-minded people to rely on,” Mercy admitted. “My plan has some holes, but I feel better knowing I’ve done something. When I start to feel uncertain, I do more and it helps me relax.”
“Where—?”
“That’s not important. What you need to know is that you’re a strong person and you can do whatever the hell you feel like, as long as you’re not hurting anyone else. If you don’t like the way something makes you feel, then change it.”
Kaylie sat silently for a few moments, processing the information. Mercy hoped the girl could see some different possibilities now. When she’d been a teen, she’d been shown over and over the same path as Kaylie. Mercy had been okay with it, accepting that it was the smart way to live. Then she’d started to have doubts, and before she could come to terms with her doubts, her world exploded and she was shoved out the door, forced to fly on her own.
Shunned.
After that she completely rejected her family’s lifestyle.
Until she couldn’t live without it. Anxiety attacked within six months of her leaving, and she discovered that for her own peace of mind she had to prepare. All her life she’d been told that the power grid could collapse; she couldn’t blow off that possibility. So she started. It was small changes at first. Storing food. Batteries. Cash. Gold. She hid her compulsion from her roommates.
Then it’d gotten bigger.
And she still hid it. Hiding it was easier than answering questions.
After fifteen years, Kaylie was the first family member she’d discussed it with. Talking about it out loud was a relief. The girl wouldn’t judge her; she understood what it was like to grow up with preppers. A subtle bond flowed between her and the teen. A bond she hadn’t felt since she left home. Someone to talk to.
“Is it so bad living here, Kaylie?”
Kaylie gave her a sour look.
A tiny part of Mercy wanted to tell the girl to embrace the people around her and accept the way of life. A larger part wanted to scream at the teen and tell her to run away as fast as possible.
It wasn’t her place to tell the girl what to do.
But she sympathized. Her siblings had seen the prepping lifestyle as one of community and smart planning. She remembered how Pearl had shuddered as Mercy wondered out loud what it would be like to work and live in New York City: “I wouldn’t want to be in that city when the power and food supplies are cut off. There’ll be riots. People will attack each other. That’s crazy talk, Mercy.”
“But what if it never happens? How can we reject something on a what-if scenario?”
“It’s best to be away from the big cities when it happens. A few private acres. Room to grow and raise what you need.” Those were her parents’ words in Pearl’s mouth.
Had all the kids been brainwashed?
Or simply taught to plan ahead?
“Look into college, Kaylie. Figure out how to pay for it and go. Do what you need to do to stay prepared.” Mercy swallowed the lump in her throat. “Your father will always be waiting here for you when you come back.”
“Then why aren’t your parents waiting for you?”