Tessa (From Fear to Faith) Read Online Free

tune me out as she had so many times before. So instead, I said, “Why is Walter so mean?”
    She shook her head. “When something upsets him, he gets that way. You have to learn to get along with him.”
    I nearly choked. But Mom was still talking, so I bit my tongue and waited.
    “’Course, he wasn’t always mean,” she continued. “When your sisters were little, he’d play with them, make them laugh.” A half smile crept across her face. “I can remember him playing horse with them, down on his knees, both of them riding on his back. Then he’d pretend he was a bear and go growling and lunging, both of them rolling on the floor and laughing like they were having the best time.”
    She stopped suddenly, and the half smile vanished. “Let me help you get back to bed.”
    I knew better than to pry; but as I settled into bed, I could not hold back one final question. “My sisters, how old are they?”
    Mom sighed, as if the question bothered her. “I guess they’d be twenty and twenty-two. That’s enough questions now, Tess. You need your rest.”
    That night I could not sleep. For hours I lay awake, thinking and wondering. Mom rarely spoke of my sisters. I had never seen a photograph of them or even heard their names. I’d always assumed Mom had given them up for adoption. But why the secrecy about it? Why the pain in her eyes whenever she mentioned them?
    Maybe, I thought, maybe Walter had something to do with their disappearance. Maybe they ran away, like I did, and Walter shot them dead on some back road. The thought chilled me. Next time I leave, I’ve got to have a plan. Some way to make sure he can’t find me again.
    My thoughts turned to Mom’s account of Walter playing with my sisters. I knew it couldn’t be true; nevertheless, the story fascinated me. I wondered what it would be like to have a father who did those things. The more I thought about it, the bigger the ache inside me became. I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t.

4
    T essa!” My mother’s voice, sharp with irritation, penetrated the walls of my bedroom. “Get out here and get this stuff put away right now!”
    I was sprawled on my stomach across my bed, too depressed to do anything except listen to the radio and munch some corn chips I’d swiped from the kitchen pantry. Physically, I had healed a lot over the last three weeks. Emotionally, I hadn’t.
    “Tes–sa!”
    I swore under my breath and turned up the volume on my radio a few more notches. Mom had been after me all day to take care of some stupid bag of groceries she’d brought home earlier. Never mind that I still couldn’t walk without my ankle hurting. As usual, Mom cared more about herself than me. I waited as long as I dared, then tugged a sweatshirt over my pajama top and limped out to the living room.
    “What stuff?”
    Mom sat on the couch, sewing up a sagging hem on her bathrobe. “You know what I mean.”
    “What’s the big deal? I’m not your slave or something. Don’t I get any time to myself around here?”
    She gave me a look and pointed to the kitchen. I complied, but resentfully, trailing my sore leg behind me in an exaggerated limp. Next to the stove were three paper bags of groceries. I grabbed them and dumped them out on the counter, making a tremendous clatter. Cans of mushroom soup and green beans tumbled to the floor, drowning Mom’s reprimand from the next room. Somehow, nothing broke.
    The noise pacified my injured feelings somewhat. I gathered the dented cans and stuffed them into the pantry. Mom could arrange things later if she wanted to.
    On the way back to my bedroom, Mom called to me again.
    “What now?” I growled, and kept walking.
    “Tessa, you’ve been smoking again, haven’t you.”
    I paused in the doorway. “So? You smoke.”
    “Don’t get smart with me. It’s a filthy habit.”
    “Well, maybe you should quit then.”
    Mom rose to her feet, her face red. “You sass me one more time, and you’re gonna be sorry!