by Jill Cooper
“You know who I look like, right? Amber Chetwood? The dead homecoming queen from seventeen years ago.”
“Well, she couldn’t be your mother. She died before you were born, honey.”
“But she was pregnant. I found evidence of it, and I’m getting close. Real close. I’ve narrowed down the list of suspects. All I need is a little longer, and I’m going to figure out who did it. I know I will.”
“Jess,” Dad’s voice drops. “You have to stop stirring stuff up. Your friend is dead. It’s time to drop this.”
My eyes narrow. “What makes you think Maxx’s death has anything to do with this?”
The color drops out of his face, and I wonder what he knows. Is he somehow involved in the Bay Harbor drama? Is that why we were lured to Bay Harbor in the first place? I thought it involved me and my resemblance to Amber, but now I’m wondering if there could’ve been another reason.
The door opens, and Mom walks in. “Oh, you two. I was hoping to have been here when you had your first talk.”
Dad smiles brightly and takes her hand. If he was going to tell me what he knew about Maxx, the moment is gone. He kisses Mom’s cheek, and it’s everything I had been wishing for just a few weeks ago, but now it feels phony. Mom looks awkward, and her shoulders round up. I cringe at how weird this all is. “Can I go back to my room?”
“No,” Mom says and reaches for my hand. “We’re going out for dinner and planning our next move. We need you for that Jess, before I help you pack for your big trip.”
“She’s staying,” Dad says. “For her friend’s wake. I thought it was only sensible. I can’t rob her of that.”
Mom glances between us with obvious disappointment on her face. She covers it by smiling widely, and I begin to suspect they’ve both been replaced by Stepford versions of themselves. “Okay, fine. It’s in two days, isn’t it? We’ll all go to support you.”
I groan on the inside, and I’m pretty sure my face twists up. “That’s not necessary.”
“It is. It’ll give us a chance to give our condolences to her parents and meet some of your other friends.”
“Won’t matter if you make us move.”
Mom’s face flickers. “You really would want to stay here? After everything?”
I shrug. “Maybe. Maybe not. But I don’t want that decision taken from me.”
“Okay,” Dad smacks his hands together. “We’re not going to get anywhere on this tonight, and I’m starving. Grab your coat and things, Jess. Let’s go check this place out.”
“Fine.” I stomp up the stairs, angry and disappointed. Dad’s just back, and he’s in charge again, like the last six months hadn’t happened at all. He just gets to reinsert himself, and that’s okay? No questions asked?
I glance back down the stairs as I turn into my room. Mom and Dad stand further apart and more rigid with each other than they had just minutes ago. It makes me wonder what’s really going on and why Dad is suddenly back after months of not caring at all.
I have a feeling it has more to do with Amber Chetwood than it does with me.
Mom grabs a table at the Chinese place, and we order enough for an army—the way Dad likes to do things. He dominates the conversation while being upbeat, smiling, and acting like this is a sweet reunion. It’s like he’s been on an extended work trip, and he couldn’t wait to return home to us.
But I know the truth.
I remember leaving tearful message after tearful message, and he never returned a single one. It wasn’t until I had given up on him that he finally showed up. I don’t trust his motives or his actions, and I can’t bring myself to enjoy sweet and sour chicken while staring at his face.
“I need to use the restroom.” I ball up my napkin and throw it onto the table. For a second, my eyes meet Mom’s, and I see strain in hers. She’s not any more comfortable than I am, so why pretend? Why do adults need to be so complicated? I want them to just tell me what’s really going on. I can take it. There’s no reason to pretend they’re something they’re not.
Dad grabs my hand. “C’mon honey. I can feel your angst, but I just want to enjoy a nice dinner with my girls.”
I yank my hand back. “It’s just the restroom. Chill. Out. And for the record, we weren’t your girls for six months. So don’t come here and pretend like we were waiting for you. Because for the record, I gave the F up on you.”
Yeah, I said F. Like I’m some sort of rebel.
“Jessica!” Mom calls out like I’m the one who has done something wrong. Instead, it’s him. It’s her. Why are they trying to pull the wool over my eyes like this? Dad might’ve been the one that left, but Mom’s lying, too. I feel more betrayed than ever. The pain is too much to bear.
I storm into the bathroom and take the first stall I find that’s open. Locking the door, I sit on the toilet with my pants still up and bring up my phone, ignoring the pain pounding in my chest, more painful than anything I’ve ever felt. I scroll through social media to distract me. Winnie has an update about her parents rushing to the hospital to have the babies. Good timing.
Ryan texted me earlier in the night. How’s it going miniature Nancy Drew?
I cringe. He loves to flirt and cut me down simultaneously. I text him back a smiley face: I’m on the case.
It doesn’t take him long to respond back. I’ll meet you tomorrow at the wake. Unless you need a ride.
I don’t feel like explaining how my dad’s come back into our lives, so I respond with a fast nah.
I switch gears and call Winnie. “How’s everything? You holding up okay?”
“Totally. I was thinking of asking you that. What happened last night…? I’m just sorry. I was never nice to Maxx, and now I feel like a total asshole.”
She’s not wrong, but I don’t want her to beat herself up over it. “You weren’t a total asshole.”
Winnie snorts. “Well, that’s high praise.”
“Want to hang out tonight? I thought I could come by after dinner?” I bite my lip and eagerly await her reply.
“Sure, yeah. We can work on our report. Eight? My parents will be putting my sisters and brother to bed by then. Nanny relieved of duty.”
“Sounds great. See you then.” I feel guilty for using Winnie to gain access to her house, but only a little bit.
“Use the side entrance through the sunroom. That way, my grandmother doesn’t need to hear about it.”
“Sure, I can do that.”
“Text me when you arrive, and I’ll meet you.”
“Totally, sure. How do I find the sunroom?”
“Follow the family cemetery, and you can’t miss it.” Winnie laughs, and I’m still hung up on the words family cemetery.
My eyebrows shoot up, and a shiver runs through me.
“Gothic Americana. You can’t go wrong with that, right?”
Chapter Fourty: Amber 2004
Time ticks by during my hidden exile, and my only connection that exists to Bay Harbor are newspapers and online articles. At first, I enjoy reading the headlines about my disappearance, but as time goes by, it grows old. The articles are fewer and fewer only a few months in. It’s disheartening how fast everyone moves on from me.
I read the articles about my parents’ trial. My mother takes a plea deal to testify against my father, something she wouldn’t do without his approval. Father is sentenced to twenty years, and my mother gets ten. That night I cry and eat ice cream. I can’t see them or even call them, and I feel so far removed from everyone I love.
But I’m safe. My baby is nearly ready to make her entrance. Soon this will be over, and I’ll call Jackson. Tell him it’s time for us to run off together if he’ll take us.
Life in the trailer is different than I’m used to. Cathy works at a garden center and leaves early. I help out by doing dishes and cleaning up while she’s gone. It’s a quaint place with bright furniture and actually has a nice carpet. Some afternoons I work at the grocer downtown owned by Cathy’s boyfriend. No one re
cognizes me, and I work in the back, mostly doing random tasks. If it’s late, I’m allowed to stock shelves.
I’m doing hard days of work for the first time. My back aches being eight months pregnant, but it’s good for me to get out of the house. I miss people. I miss a lot of things.
“Your turn, Tessa.”
Cathy’s voice jars me. I’ve long accepted that to her, I’ll always be Tessa, and it’s been enough months now that I answer to it. I lean forward on the sofa and gaze down at the Scrabble board, a hand supporting my wide belly. I’m in an oversized cozy sweater because even though it’s May, the trailer is always freezing.
I go through my tiles and play my word on the board and calculate my points. Cathy coughs into her fist. “Big one. Not sure how I’ll ever beat you with your proper education.”
I grimace. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. You’re just lucky. Or you were until all of this happened. I’m almost sorry I found you, but then I see that face.” She grins and leans forward and pinches my cheek. “Plus, that’s my grandbaby growing in that big belly of yours.”
I grin and glance down at it, feeling a powerful kick. “I’ll just be glad when she’s here. Scared but glad.”
“I’ll be with you.” Cathy coughs into her fist again. “Come on, let me make you a cup of tea. It’ll warm you right up.” By the time she crosses over to the kitchen, she’s coughing uncontrollably.
I struggle up to my feet and follow after her. “You’ve been coughing a lot lately. Is everything all right?”
“Of course, it is. Just a summer cold come a little early. I’ll be fine. Why don’t you preheat the oven? We’ll throw a pizza in there, and I’ll give you a little gift I’ve gotten for you and our precious little one.”
I stock the soup cans down aisle six before bending down to pick up my empty box. Bending is nearly impossible, and a muscle pinches in my back. I grunt, and Stu rushes to hand me the box back. “Here you go.” He watches me with interest. Cute, and maybe a few years older than me, he always makes sure I have help.
“Thank you.” I take the box toward the back and know I have a bad waddle, but these days, I don’t even care. I slide the box into the main office and flick my braid off my shoulder.
“Do you need to sit down?” Stu slides the office chair out for me, and I laugh at how sweet he is.
Sweet is a good word for it. I know what he wants from me, but I can’t give it to him. My heart belongs to Jackson. I appreciate what a good guy Stu is. A girl like me shouldn’t have attracted such attention from a nice guy.
“I’m fine, Stu, really. Thanks for asking, though. Just a few more days, and I’ll go on maternity leave.”
“Okay, well. I better get going. I just wanted to wish you well.” He grabs his jacket off the hook on the door. “You want to go for a milkshake when you get off work? Just a parting goodbye between co-workers?”
I think it over and know I should say no. Leading men on, in part, is what got me into this. “Well, I do love strawberry milkshakes but…we can only be friends, Stu.”
Stu nods. “Of course. We’ll take my car, and I’ll drive you home. I know you usually walk. And you shouldn’t be doing that in your condition.” He hands me my sweater, and I slip it on even though now it doesn’t have a prayer of fitting me.
I like Stu. Maybe in another time or place… I push thoughts like that away. They aren’t helpful, and I know it.
He drives us over to the old-fashioned malt shop and orders a chocolate milkshake for himself and a strawberry one for me. We sit at a table by the window, and I take the chair while he takes the booth seat—I’d never fit back there unless someone used a crowbar on me. Beside us at another table, a man reads a newspaper while working on an ice cream sundae. He has short brown hair and wears business casual clothes. A weird look for Glacier Bay. A working-class town if ever there was one.
He keeps looking at me with a side-eye.
It makes me shiver inside.
“You nervous? About having the baby?”
I play with my straw. “I am, but it has to come out sometime, right?” I chuckle and lean my arm on the table.
“Well, if you need any help or someone to talk to, I’ll always be here.”
“You’re sweet. I like you, Stu. But you know me and the baby’s father, we’re going to be together again.”
“Then why isn’t he here?”
“Stu, it’s complicated. It’s not easy to explain.”
“If he loves you, he should be here. You shouldn’t be here alone.” Stu goes back to his milkshake, and I try not to dwell on his words, but I know there’s truth to them.
I should’ve told Jackson my plan. Telling him I was pregnant wasn’t enough. I should’ve asked for him to come with me that night. Maybe I was afraid he’d say no or that he’d tell his mother and she’d find a way to stop me.
Permanently.
“It’s better this way. I can’t explain. It just is.”
Stu nods. “Still friends?”
I laugh. “Of course, we are. I love that you care.”
“And I think you’re making a mistake. I know I’m not much. The life I’d give you would be humble, but, Tessa, we’ve known each other for over six months now. I know we could make it work. Give your baby a good life. Will you think about it?”
I swallow hard. “I promise,” but I know I won’t. I can’t give up on being Amber Chetwood. I might have been born Tessa Summers, but I wasn’t meant to be her. I was meant to one day be Mrs. Jackson Sinclair.
My back aches and my feet are swollen by the time I arrive back at the trailer. Cathy is still at work, so I take dinner out of the fridge. I sink down onto the sofa and rest my head back. The baby kicks, and I hold my belly—letting out a soft moan. I just want to crawl into bed and get a good night’s sleep in before the new day starts all over.
Since I can’t do that yet, I sit up and flip through the newspaper on the table. It’s the Bay Harbor Chronicle, Cathy has it delivered for me every week. I flip through the pages, looking for something interesting when I spot the name Sinclair.
There’s a picture of Jackson and Carolyn holding hands. Gazing at each other with stardust in their eyes. My heart plummets down into my feet when I read the caption:
PENELOPE SINCLAIR’S SON ANNOUNCES ENGAGEMENT. TO WED THIS SUMMER.
I trace my eyes down the article and can’t believe what I’m seeing. Carolyn is going to marry Jackson. My friend. The one who helped me set this plan in motion and knew I was pregnant. Knew I wasn’t dead. My plan had, in part, been her idea.
I’m so mad, my vision clouds and everything goes red. Before I know it, I’m pulling my cell phone out of my purse. It’s actually one of Cathy’s, and she’s let me borrow it while I’m in town, but I dial Carolyn’s number by heart.
“Hello?”
Hearing her voice makes me physically sick. “How dare you,” I say through gritted teeth. My voice warbles with anger. I want to rip her little head right from her body.
“Who is this?”
“You damn well know who it is. How can you do this? Marrying Jackson? You know very well what I’m going through. What I’m doing.”
“Amber?” Her voice drops down to a whisper. “Well, I’m sorry. Just when you went missing, Jackson was so beside himself he needed a friend. One thing led to another. When his mom saw how well we worked together…well, she started whispering in his ear.”
Penelope? I grip the cushion in my hand and feel something in my belly clench tighter than I’ve ever felt before. I groan, my pulse is racing, and I piece it all together. “You planned to do this all along, didn’t you? You wanted what I had. You wanted Jackson for yourself.”
“It’s not true, Amber. It’s not. It just happened. But this wedding is happening. Bay Harbor just isn’t for you anymore. It’s sad, but it’s true. Martin is still carrying a torch for you, and if Penelope ever sees you again, I fear what she’ll do to you. And your baby.”
<
br /> I shake my head. “You’re just trying to scare me. I know it. You’re the one I needed to fear all along. You think you can just take my place? If I show up there now and Jackson sees me—”
“Nothing will change. We’re getting married in two months. I’m already pregnant, Amber. He loves me. He wants me. He never even mentions you anymore.”
My mouth falls open and hot tears sting my eyes. “You’re lying.”
“Am I?” Carolyn whispers with fake compassion in her voice. “Doesn’t really matter. You lost, honey. You lost big time. Now sit back, be happy with that baby of yours, which is probably Martin’s anyway. It’s all your fault you couldn’t keep your pants zipped up.”
“All of that is a lie! Martin raped me. And this is not his child!” I bolt straight up to my feet, and my uterus pulls. It hurts so bad, I can’t scream. I grip my belly and feel water gushing out from between my legs.
The baby is coming. Shit. What awful timing. Horrible timing!
“Believe what you want, but there’s no way to know if your baby is Martin’s or Jackson’s. And if you come back, Martin’s family will fight for control. It’s part of why you left, isn’t it?”
The line goes dead.
How did I not see Carolyn was lying and manipulating me? How didn’t I know she wanted Jackson for herself?
I toss the phone onto the sofa as the first painful contraction hits me. I groan, and supporting my belly, I sit back down onto the sofa. I blow a deep breath out of my mouth and know this is just the beginning.
My baby will be born tonight. And what I decide to do with Jackson and Carolyn is going to have to wait.
Chapter Forty-One
Sinclair Mansion, Bay Harbor
Jessica: September 12th, 2020
Here we go again.
I arrive at the Sinclair estate, which at night is a lot like arriving at the Bruce Wayne manor. There’s a creepy light coming from the upstairs window, an orange glow that looks supernatural. Of course, I’m standing in a cemetery, where there are a dozen or so tombstones. Some of them are tiny, which generally means a kid. Two are so old they lean to the side, and the ground appears to be pushing them up, and a fence that comes up to my knees surrounds them all.
