She had been hoarding the grief as if Sophie’s disappearance had affected only her. But it hadn’t. He had been there through it all, too. He’d also changed her diapers, gotten up in the middle of the night when Sophie was sick, put up with her tantrums, and trudged with them to numerous doctors. He’d built bird houses for Sophie, read and sang to her, and made her laugh. He loved her. They’d been a family.
“I’m sorry I never really acknowledged your suffering, either. I was too stuck in my own. You were a really good father. She loved you deeply.”
Cooper tilted his head in thought. He smiled. “Well, thank you for saying that. I didn’t know if you ever got how much I was hurting, too.”
“I do now. I get it.”
Cooper walked up to her. “Listen. I know I’ll see you at the closing, but after that, I want you to stay in touch. I mean it. Let me know when you get settled. I don’t even care if you call late at night. I’d like to hear from you, that you’re okay and everything.”
“Cindy won’t like that.”
He tilted his head and grinned in agreement.
“You can call, too,” Jesse said.
“Okay. I will.” He gave her a hug, and they held it for a moment. It felt familiar and nice until the sensation of loss washed over her. But it wasn’t about not having Cooper anymore. It was that the thing that would have bound them forever, even in divorce, was gone. There was no reason to stay in touch. She let out a huge breath.
“Bye, Jess.”
“Bye, Cooper.” She opened the door to the truck. Saint Anthony hopped in, then Jesse followed. She drove a few feet down the drive then stopped. She put it in park and turned off the ignition.
Cooper was still standing near the house, watching. When she didn’t restart the truck, he walked over. “Everything okay?”
She looked out the open driver’s window and said flatly, “One more thing. I know you were fucking Cindy before Sophie disappeared. I was your wife, and you betrayed me and lied to me. It didn’t happen after Sophie went missing, like you said. It was before, and I knew that. I’ve known it for some time, and you owe me a big fucking apology. You hurt me.”
He opened his mouth, but no words came out at first. Then he whispered, “Don’t hate me.”
She reached out the window, snatched the jacket out of his hands, and tossed it into the front seat of the truck.
As she drove off, she watched him in the rearview mirror, her past standing immobilized as she lurched unsteadily into her future.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“So, Star, have you thought about what we discussed last time?”
Star was sitting in her therapist’s office for one of her weekly sessions. After Jesse told her parents about her cutting business, Star’s parents flipped out. Leave it to them to find a therapist named Pebble. But actually, the woman wasn’t so bad. She had the clichéd long gray hair, kind of like Jesse’s, and wore earth-mother flowy skirts and tops. Star had come to like the woman and even looked forward to her sessions inside Pebble’s tasteful home in the comfort of the darkened, cozy office with lots of antique furniture, soft overstuffed pillows, and abstract metal sculptures.
When she first met Pebble, Star didn’t say a word. She just sat there for the first four sessions, with her mouth clamped shut, clutching a pillow and listening to the silence. Star had tried to blank her mind out and just concentrate on the sound of the waves from the noise machine in the hallway. She didn’t know how people meditated and emptied their minds of all thoughts. When Star tried to think of nothing, all she could do was think of every little thing she didn’t want to think of. Sophie. Jesse. The Barn. Books. Fire. Ophelia. Paul Bunyan. Professor Pollen. Sophie. Jesse. The Barn. Books. And on and on.
Finally, Pebble got her to talk. Turned out, it wasn’t the end of the world. She didn’t think Star was a freak. Or if she did, she was used to freaks and acted like the cutting wasn’t a big deal. Pebble was okay. Star talked about Sophie and how when she’d first gone missing, her disappearance invaded Star’s house. Her school. The whole town. And not knowing what happened freaked everybody out. Not just Star. It had felt as though all of Canaan were sick. She imagined it was the same in towns where school shootings had happened.
Star guessed she had held in a lot of her emotions at the time. The bad feelings had kind of built up inside her. When Sophie’s bones were found, Star was glad she was seeing Pebble because Star actually knew the killer. She had been in his class. Talked to him. Been inches away from him. Joked with Sophie about him. After the grisly details emerged, the thought that she had been so close to such a sicko kept Star up at night, her lights ablaze. She definitely needed someone to help get her through that period.
“Hello? Star? Are you there?”
Blinking, Star snapped out of her daydream and looked over at Pebble. “I’m here.”
“Did you think about what we talked about last time? How you might honor Sophie’s memory in some way? It could be small and personal, something you do privately.” Pebble looked at Star with a kind, accepting gaze. She spoke in a calm, soft voice. “You don’t have to tell anyone about it. Rituals of all sorts can be very healing.”
Star had liked that idea. “I don’t know yet. It has to be just right.”
“No need to rush it. You’ll know the right thing when you think of it.”
In her heart, Star knew it would probably involve another trip to Wellfleet. Maybe a private little ceremony on the beach.
“You know people have all different ways of grieving. There’s no right way. No wrong way.”
“Like creating imaginary ghosts or cutting themselves?” Star said.
“Absolutely. If feelings of loss are debilitating and don't improve after time passes, it’s called complicated grief. A fine writer named C.S. Lewis once said that grief is a muddled process, one with no logic and no timetable. I think that’s true.”
Star’s feelings did seem complicated and muddled with lots of strands to sort out. And as if reading Star’s mind, Pebble said, “Keep writing in your journal. It’s a great way to get it all out and untangle some of the confusing threads.”
Star had taken Pebble’s advice and had been writing in her journal. She found it did actually help, like telling secrets to a trusted friend. Sometimes she talked to Sophie and told her what she was thinking. Pebble said that was fine, too. Still, Pebble didn’t blow sunshine up her ass like the school counselors, and Star appreciated that. But, Pebble? What a stupid name.
“And any urges these days?” Pebble said.
Star gave a smirk. “I don’t suppose you mean sexual urges.”
Pebble smiled and shook her head. “Your sewing kit.”
It had taken a while, but Star had stopped her cutting. Sometimes she still felt a little shitty about herself or sad about Sophie, but she didn’t feel like she wanted to cut anymore. That felt so gross. How did I ever even do that? She felt as if some creature from another planet had taken over her brain during that period.
“I threw away the sewing kit so I wouldn’t be tempted.”
“Good for you!”
For a while, Star had tried to locate Ophelia or April, whoever she was. She’d thought she found her on Facebook, but after Star tried to friend her, the girl’s account suddenly disappeared. Star’s parents and Pebble said it was best to let her go, that April needed time to heal. Star thought the adults were probably afraid April could be a bad influence. Star just hoped April was okay. Maybe she got her angel tattoo and all was right with the world. Maybe not.
“My parents told me that the insurance people said the Book Barn fire was caused by some faulty wiring in the basement. How lucky is that?” Star said.
Pebble’s eyebrows scrunched together. “Lucky? How so?”
“Not that the Barn burned down but that it wasn’t my fault after all.”
“Oh, I guess you could say that is lucky.”
“And I’ve quit smoking, like seriously quit. I mean I do
n’t think I’ll ever light up again in my life. So at least one good thing came out of the fire.”
Pebble smiled then glanced at the clock on her side table. “Our time is up. Listen, you’re doing great. It’s an ongoing process. You should be proud of the work we’ve done. What you’ve done. I’ll see you next week, and keep thinking about a ritual for Sophie.”
Star turned on her cell phone as she exited Pebble’s house. Jesse had texted. Again. Over the months, Jesse had called and left like a zillion voice messages and texts. Star had needed her own time to chill out, though. Maybe Jesse felt bad about ratting Star out. Even though she sort of understood why Jesse had done it, Star was still pissed.
Star got in her car and decided to read the text later. As she made the short drive home down Main Street, which with the twinkly lights on in the shop windows always gave her a warm feeling, she thought back to the last time she’d seen Sophie, when she’d flown out of Star’s window. It had been quiet without her since that last visit. On the one hand, Star almost wanted to see Sophie again, even the ten-year-old ghost. On the other hand, she really didn’t, since seeing her was always so upsetting. Jesse had said she never saw Sophie, and maybe that was worse. Star didn’t know.
She pulled into her driveway and looked at Jesse’s text. Let’s talk. Please.
The For Sale sign that had been on Jesse’s lawn for months now had a Sold banner across it. Just like that. It was unbelievable.
Star and her parents were driving by Jesse’s the other day, and there it was. Rumors about Jesse were flying around town. Like she was leaving to join an Ashram in Upstate New York or she was about to run off to Paris with Barnes. All Star knew was that her childhood best friend had disappeared, and her mother was about to fly away, too.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Jesse stepped into Sophie’s bedroom. Saint Anthony followed closely. Only the bed remained. She had even taken down the canopy of fabric leaves. Jesse gazed around the empty room. The door to the vacant closet was open, and she walked over and looked inside at the fanciful mural on the inside wall. A tiny bit of Sophie remained, and that felt right. The new owners might paint over the mural, but maybe not. In any case, Jesse could do nothing about it.
She sat down on the lavender carpet with her back against the bed. The dog lay down next to her, placing his head on Jesse’s thigh. She caressed his snout and ears then looked up toward the ceiling. “Sophie, honey. I have to leave here. We had to sell the house. They’re a nice family who bought it. You’d like them. They have a little girl. Her name’s Lucy. She’ll get this room. I know she’ll love it. And they’re expecting another child.” She paused then continued, stumbling over her words, her voice thick with emotion. “I have to move on. I may not talk to you as much.” A tear ran down her cheek. “Not as much as I have, but I’ll always think of you. I’ll always love you.”
She turned back to Saint Anthony. “I had a daughter. She was difficult. She was wonderful. She loved birds. She was taken, brutally murdered. I’ll never see her again. How am I going to live with that?”
His ears perked up. He lifted his head and turned to her. She petted his head then waited as if he might respond. Tears ran down her face. She rubbed Saint Anthony’s ear and said, “I’ll have to. I’ll just have to.” She kissed him on the top of his head and whispered, “It’s time.”
Jesse took a deep breath, pulled herself together, and headed downstairs. She sat at her kitchen table and called Tuck at his apartment in New Jersey.
“It’s me,” she said when he answered.
“I’m glad you called. I’ve been thinking about you. How’s the packing going?”
“Almost done. It’s weird to be in this house. So empty. It echoes.” The closing was in less than a week. The movers were coming in a few days. Jesse had found a casita online to rent in Taos. She was driving out there with Saint Anthony, traveling light, putting much of her stuff in storage.
“I bet. Are you excited?”
“I am. But nervous, too.”
“That’s understandable.”
“You’ll come visit, right?” When she’d told him about moving to Taos, Tuck was quiet at first but then supportive. He’d said he understood that she had to go away. No matter what, he wanted to keep seeing her, even if it would be long distance. Maybe the move would be temporary. She thought of their last few times together, and she got a fluttery, light-headed feeling. They had an intense chemistry in bed and out. They could talk for hours. She wanted to continue to get to know him.
“Of course I’ll visit,” he said. “As soon as you’re settled. Or before. Whenever you want me.”
“I want you. In fact, I need you to come here. Soon.”
He laughed. “Somebody misses me already?”
She laughed, too. “Well, yes, but it’s not that exactly. It’s something else. I’m ready for the soul bundle.”
“Ahhh. Your soul bundle keeper at your service. You’re ready to release it?”
“I am.”
“That’s big. Are you sure? There’s no rush, you know.”
“I’m sure. It’s time.”
“How about this weekend?”
“Perfect.” It would give her a few days to prepare. She’d put a notice up at Earl’s about a big soul-keeping potluck in the backyard. She planned to fill the bird feeders one last time. Anyone who had known Sophie could come. She’d call the Silvermans. Maybe they would be ready to see her. They would celebrate Sophie’s life.
They were both quiet. She pictured Tuck sitting on his couch. She heard him breathing and wished he was sitting beside her, holding her hand. “Tuck, I want to thank you”—her voice wavered a bit—“for keeping it safe. For everything.”
“I wish I was there to hug you. You’re doing the right thing. See you soon.”
THE NEXT MORNING, JESSE stood on the porch and looked out at the creek, the trees, and the two yellow Adirondack chairs down near the water. The feeders swayed in the cool, swift breeze. She heard fee-bee then saw the bird swoop from the nearby oak over to a limb of a tree closer to the water. The simple call kept coming, as if the bird were waiting for a response. Fee-bee, fee-bee. As if the chickadee was trying to tell her something. Fee-bee, fee-bee. Come closer. Come closer.
She walked down the hill, and Saint Anthony ran ahead. She sat in one of the yellow chairs, and Saint Anthony lay at her feet. Jesse looked out at the view she loved. She would miss it.
Just then Jesse heard someone shout out, “Hey.”
She turned back to the house and saw Star Silverman walking down the hill toward her. She looked different from the last time Jesse had seen her—so pale and angry, shouting “I hate you!” before running off. Now she seemed calm. But something else. Peaceful. More grown up. She walked tall and confidently. She had a healthy color to her face.
“I saw you sitting down here. I got your messages. Your texts. And emails,” Star said.
“I didn’t hear back, so I kept trying.”
“I wasn’t ready to answer.”
“I understand,” Jesse said.
“But I guess I am now. I figured I’d just come over. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course.”
Saint Anthony went up to her and sniffed. Star reached down and patted his head. “Hey, Anthony.”
Star glanced about then said, “It’s weird to be here.”
“I know. Have a seat.”
Star sat down. “What are you doing down here?”
“I don’t know. I was out on the porch, and the view always reminds me of Sophie. And then I heard a black-capped chickadee.”
“Fee-bee,” Star said in a sing-song voice.
Jesse smiled. “The chairs called out to me. I’m glad you came. I don’t like sitting here alone.”
“You’ve got him.” And she nodded at Saint Anthony, who had plopped down at Jesse’s feet again and was staring at the water.
“Yes. He’s great company, but he never answers me back.”
Star opened her mouth to speak, closed it, then tried again. “I didn’t know what to say to you when I heard about Sophie. So I did nothing. I couldn’t believe it, and I could believe it all at the same time.”
“It’s okay. I know. It was shocking and so tragic. It’s all like this endless dream.” They sat for a moment. Then Jesse continued, “I was sad for so long. I’m not sure what I am now.” She took a deep breath then said, “This weekend, there’s going to be a celebration, a big happy feast for Sophie. I hope you’ll come.”
Star just listened.
Jesse couldn’t help staring at her. She wasn’t wearing dark, torn clothes or goth makeup. She had on skinny jeans with a cute blue vest and a multi-colored scarf draped around her neck. Her hair, straight and shiny, hung down her back.
“Star, you look really good.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I mean it. How are you?”
“Fine.”
“I mean really.”
“I’m fine. Really.”
“You’re mad at me.”
Star looked off in the distance across the creek then back toward Jess. “Yeah, I’m pissed... You ratted me out.”
“I’m sorry I hurt you and your parents. You, your friendship, meant so much to me. And after what we went through together in Wellfleet. I know you think I betrayed you, but I couldn’t keep that secret. I’m sorry. I told them only because I love you.”
Star shook her head, looking away. “It’s not that exactly.”
“It’s not?”
“I guess I get why you told them.”
“Then what?”
“You’re moving away?” There was a catch in her throat, and she blinked back tears.
Jesse nodded.
“Just like that? Without telling anyone? We hear about it through the grapevine. See the sold sign out front.”
Jesse turned to her. She reached out to touch her hand. “I made a lot of mistakes. It’s time I move forward. I’m not sure how long I’ll be away. I just know I need to do this now. But I’d like you in my life.”
Sophie Last Seen Page 27
