by Lisa Duffy
“It’s on your arm.” Alex pointed to the patchwork bag looped over her shoulder.
My grandmother snickered, and my mother slapped herself on the forehead, both of them shuffling down the hallway. When I looked at Alex, he was smiling.
“They’re funny,” he said.
“A hoot,” I replied.
I thought we might have a moment alone, but Boon hung up the phone and walked over. He shook Alex’s hand again, and before I knew it, we were seated in the chairs while Boon and Alex talked about Hope Ann, how he’d put her back on the slip and she seemed intact except for a broken pot hauler.
Then there was a noise in the hallway, and my mother was rushing toward us, my grandmother trailing behind. I got up and met her in the hallway. Boon followed behind.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Oh, nothing. I mean, it’s not your father. In all the confusion, I forgot your sister has a half day at camp. She needs to be picked up. I want to be here when your father wakes up. I tried Peggy, but she’s not answering.” She looked at her cell phone and grimaced at it.
“Apparently I’m an unsafe driver,” my grandmother huffed from over my mother’s shoulder.
“That’s not what I said. What I said was that the last time you drove my car, you said you couldn’t reach the brake pedal.”
“I said it was difficult to reach. Obviously I reached it or I wouldn’t be here.” She waved away my mother, who sighed.
“Let me do it,” Boon suggested. “I haven’t seen the squirt in days.”
“You can’t,” my mother said. “There’s a pickup list, and you’re not on it.”
“I’m on the list,” Alex said from behind us. He got up from the chair and joined us in the hallway.
“I get my brother sometimes. I can drive, and Jess can get Kat. You know some of the counselors, right?” He looked at me.
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” my mother asked. “Your whole morning has already been taken up by us—which frankly is another thing I’m confused about.”
“I can probably take a stab at that,” Boon said, and she looked at him, surprised. He gave her a look that said this wasn’t the time to talk about it.
“I don’t mind,” Alex said, and turned to me. “Ready?”
I nodded, even though I felt the opposite of ready. My feet felt rooted to the ground.
“Wait,” I said to my mother. “What should I tell Kat?”
“Don’t tell her anything. She’ll worry herself silly—” my grandmother said before my mother put a hand on her arm, cutting her off.
My mother led me a few feet away until we were alone. When she faced me, a crease in her chin appeared. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth and looked down. I knew it was how she looked before she cried. Tears suddenly filled my eyes. A lump in my throat made it hard to breathe.
“Oh, now,” my mother said. She pulled me into her, pressed my head against her shoulder. She patted my back lightly while I snaked a hand up between us and wiped my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I said to her when we separated.
She tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear. “It’s okay to cry. He’ll be okay. But it’s scary.”
“No. I mean I’m sorry about everything. Sorry for lying about Alex. And for what I said to you about Kat. I didn’t mean it.”
“I want you to hear it from me that I don’t know if what I did was right. Everything just happened so fast.” Her lip quivered. A tear slipped down her face.
I started to say that I understood. That she didn’t need to explain, but she held up her hand.
“I don’t have all the answers. Your father either. It’s just, you have children and you want to protect them.”
She paused and dug in her pocketbook for a tissue. When she had wiped under her eyes, she took a deep breath, took both of my hands in hers, and stood in front of me so close, our foreheads almost touched.
“You tell Kat whatever you feel is best. The doctor said as long as Dad responds well to the antibiotics, he can be home as soon as tomorrow.”
“Grandma said Kat will worry, and she’s right. I could just say he’s working on the boat.”
My mother pressed her lips to the side of my head. “Go,” she said. “Do what feels right.”
Alex walked behind me through the parking lot, one step behind. Neither of us spoke. When we reached the truck, I got in the passenger seat and buckled my seat belt. We were on the highway, ten minutes into the ride before Alex looked at me.
“When your dad first showed up, I thought it was because of us, I mean, you—you know what I mean. But then it was obvious he had no clue who I was.”
He looked over at me when he said this. When I didn’t say anything, he looked at the road, then back at me.
“I thought you were going to tell him about us?” he asked after a minute.
In all the frenzy, I hadn’t said anything about Alex’s disappearance.
I hadn’t mentioned that he’d fallen off the face of the earth after we’d kissed. And now he was acting surprised that my father didn’t know about us? What us?
“Tell him what?” I asked. “That you’re a guy who fixed my boat. That we had lunch a couple of times?”
He looked over at me, a wounded expression on his face. For some reason, it made me even angrier.
I saw how he’d looked at me that night. I felt the way he kissed me. And then he’d said he couldn’t kiss me anymore. And then he disappeared.
He didn’t have the right to look wounded.
“Besides, you didn’t tell your mom about me. You told me that night at the Salt House that she didn’t know about me.”
“That’s different.”
“How is it different?”
“I’m eighteen, Jess. It’s different.”
“Not this again,” I scowled. “That’s a stupid thing to say,” I said, feeling my face flame with anger.
He looked over at me, raised his eyebrows. “Why are you so mad?”
“Because you’re sitting over there acting like you didn’t keep me a secret. I have my own reasons for not telling my parents about you. But at least I didn’t lie.”
“Lie? What did I lie about?”
“About Amy,” I snapped before I could stop myself.
If he was surprised I knew her name, he didn’t show it. He put his blinker on and followed the curve into the parking lot. We were quiet as he pulled into a space at the back of the lot.
We were early for pickup, and I opened the door and got out of the truck, finding the small space claustrophobic.
I leaned against the bumper and watched the campers run around on the field in front of us. I tried to find Kat, but my eyes were tired from crying, and their small bodies all looked the same from where I stood.
I felt the truck dip when Alex got out. I watched as he hoisted himself up on the hood and slid his legs over until he was sitting next to where I was standing.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
I turned my eyes back to the field. All the emotion of the day had worn me out.
“Look, Jess. I’m not defending myself, but my mother didn’t know Amy and I had broken up before we even moved. I guess that’s why I didn’t tell her about you. I didn’t want to have to explain what happened with Amy.”
“So she was your girlfriend?”
“For four years. Since we were freshmen in high school. We were in over our heads. Both of us. She was . . . is important to me, but . . .”
I caught the tense change. “Is that why you went home? For her?”
“When I decided to go to college up here, we agreed to see other people. She’s going to college in Florida, and we didn’t want to start lying to each other. But now that I look back on it, it was me pushing the idea.”
“How come?”
“Amy was great, but the only thing we ever did together was go to parties or . . . stuff . . .” He leaned over and tied his sneaker, even though it wasn’t u
ntied. Then he untied and retied the other sneaker. When he straightened, his cheeks were red, and he didn’t meet my eyes. I got the message of what stuff he was talking about.
“I sort of wanted to just be alone. To figure things out. And then I met you, and, well . . .”
I snorted. “Don’t sound so enthused.”
He nudged me with his elbow. “Cut it out. What I mean is that getting in another relationship was the last thing I was looking to do. And then you came along, limping up my street. And then that night on the couch with you, I realized I was really into you. And it freaked me out.”
I felt my heart race; the palms of my hands grew wet.
“Anyway. I went home to tell Amy that it wasn’t just a break for me.”
I looked at him, waited for him to continue.
“Being here, meeting you. It’s different. It’s like a fresh start, you know? Just . . . I don’t know how to explain it . . . sort of like there are things I didn’t even know existed.”
“Things in Maine?” I asked.
“No,” he said, surprised, as if it had just dawned on him. “Things in me.” He made a small self-conscious noise, fiddled with his hat. “Anyway. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Amy. I was sort of lying to myself that I thought of you as just a friend until I kissed you. And then . . .”
“. . . And then you fell off the face of the earth,” I finished for him.
“Well, that I can explain. Look.”
I squinted at him, blocking the sun with my hand. He dug in his pocket, held the tab of the key ring up to me.
“You got the apprenticeship.” I smiled.
“That’s where I was all last week. They wanted to meet me, show me around. I didn’t want to tell you in the shop when I came to say good-bye. I just wanted to put all that other stuff behind me first.”
“It’s like another country up there,” I warned.
“I heard. Some girl told me that.” He looked at me. “Too far for a girl to come visit?”
“I don’t think friends visit. I mean, that seems serious.”
“How about friends that do this?” he asked, pulling me into him, his legs on either side of me. I felt his lips on mine, gently, his eyes open, looking right at me. After a minute, I pulled away, turned, and leaned between his legs, my back against him. His fingertips rested on my hips. His knee was next to me, and I reached out and traced the scar with my fingertip, the skin even softer than I imagined.
On the field, a whistle blew, and we looked over to see groups of kids lining up behind their counselors, ready to go home for the day. Alex nudged me forward and slid off the car, and we walked toward them, his hand brushing against mine.
I caught Kat out of the corner of my eye and watched her skip over to us. Her counselor was waiting with a clipboard, and I walked over and signed my initials next to Kat’s name on the sign-out sheet. When I turned, Kat was giving Alex a high five.
“You’ve met,” I said.
“She scored the winning goal in the soccer game.” He held out his hand again, and Kat slapped it even harder this time. He winced and shook it playfully.
“Where’s Mom?” Kat asked me. I opened my mouth to answer, but nothing came out. She studied my face. She stopped walking and looked from me to Alex and back at me. I thought I saw her hold her breath.
A year passed in my mind. The flashing lights of the ambulance outside my house; my mother asleep in Kat’s bed; my father walking into the kitchen behind me whispering, Jess, that’s not your mess.
I thought of my mother, crying in the hospital, giving me permission to tell Kat the truth this time. But now Kat was looking at me, waiting for me to say something. The corners of her mouth began to droop, her smile fading, creases of worry beginning to form on her forehead.
I looked into her eyes and thought of what she’d been through. How they were the eyes of a girl who got off the bus one summer day and found out her baby sister was never coming home. How they were the eyes of loss. And they were looking at me, waiting.
I thought of my mother, crying in the hospital, talking about protecting us.
Suddenly I knew what to tell Kat. I took her hand and swung it as we walked to the car.
I told her the truth. That our mother was with our father. And soon, they were coming home together.
23
Hope
An hour after Jess and Alex left, Dr. Schmidt came to get me. I left Boon and my mother sitting in the waiting room and followed the doctor to a small room, where he shut the door and delivered Jack’s prognosis. The pneumonia had been so advanced that he had a lung abscess. They’d drained it, but if he didn’t respond to the antibiotics, part of his lung would have to be removed. But that wasn’t the worst of it. His blood pressure had been sky-high when he’d been brought in, and now it was only moderately better. Jack was on medication for both issues, but Dr. Schmidt stressed that the most important thing Jack needed now was rest, and not just for a week or so. Prolonged rest was how he put it.
“You know Jack, right?” I sighed. “What are the odds that he listens?”
Dr. Schmidt looked at me from over the top of his glasses. “Given the first thing he said when he woke up was ‘Hope is going to kill me,’ I think they’re pretty good.” He winked and squeezed my hand. “I’ll let you know when you can see him.”
In the waiting room, Peggy was sitting between my mother and Boon. She stood up quickly when she saw me and gave me a hug when I reached her.
“I just got the message,” she said. “How is he?”
“He’s doing okay. He’s got some work to do to get better.”
“I’m so sorry I missed your call. Who ended up getting Kat?” Peggy asked.
I frowned at her. “I take it you haven’t talked to Alex?”
“Alex? No. He was sleeping when I left the house this morning.”
“Damn. I was hoping you’d have some insight as to why Jack was there.”
Peggy gave me a confused look. “Jack was where?”
I turned to Boon. “You said earlier that you knew something about it.”
“Wait. Jack was at my house?” Peggy asked. “Is that where this happened?”
Boon held up his hands. “I said I can take a guess. Given Finn and Jack’s history, it doesn’t surprise me that they’re tangling with one another again.”
“What exactly is their history?” I asked.
“Yes,” Peggy added. “You took the words right out of my mouth.”
There was a long pause while Boon looked at me and then at Peggy and then back at me.
“Christ,” he muttered.
“Can someone please tell me what happened and how Alex is involved before I have a heart attack,” Peggy pleaded.
“I’m sorry, Peg,” I said, pressing my fingers against my eyebrow. “Jack showed up at your house and Alex was there and Jack was angry and Alex thought it was about Jess but then it came out that it had to do with some stolen traps. Jack left in a hurry, and Boon got a call from Ryland that he’d pulled Jack out of the water and to call an ambulance and here we are.”
I said this all in one breath, and my mother stuck her bottom lip out and said, “Whew.”
“Alex and Jess left to get Kat and now they’re all at my house. And what history?” I demanded, turning to Boon.
Boon didn’t speak, but he didn’t need to. His expression told me it was something I wasn’t going to like.
“I’m going to check on the kids,” Peggy said quietly.
“I’m going with you,” my mother blurted out, gathering her purse with the quickness one usually reserves for emergency-type exits. Peggy squeezed my hand and mouthed, Call me. My mother gave Boon a hug and turned to me, pressed her face against my cheek.
“Now, you tell Jack that tomorrow is a new day,” she told me in a chirpy voice.
“Mom,” I said wearily. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Boon smile. But when I looked over at him after they left, the smile was gone.
<
br /> I crossed my arms. “He didn’t cut his hand on the engine, did he?”
He motioned for us to move to the chairs in the far corner of the room. When we were seated, he looked at me.
“I’m guessing not.”
“Guessing?”
“Yes. Guessing. I heard there was some shit going down on his boat the other night. I asked him about it this morning, and he told me to mind my own business. Then he went out on the boat and the next thing I know, Finn’s in my office, handing me a wad of cash, telling me he stole out of Jack’s traps, his face smashed in. I’m not a detective, but I’m guessing the cut on Jack’s hand was probably a right hook to Finn’s face, not the engine.”
“Wait. Back up. Finn stole his catch? When? How?” I thought of Peggy. I’d talked to her on Sunday. She’d said she hadn’t heard from Ryland in days.
“We didn’t get into details. I took the money, and he said he was going to buy some bait, head out to Jack’s traps, and make it right. I got on the phone and called Jack. No answer. Tried the radio and got the same. Then Finn’s calling me from his boat, screaming at me to call an ambulance, that he’s got Jack on the deck, barely breathing.”
My mind raced, trying to process it all, to piece it all together.
“Why would Ryland steal from Jack’s traps? Was that his territory? Is that the history you’re talking about?”
Boon studied me, a somber expression on his face. “This is where I’m out of this, Hope,” he said quietly. “I don’t know what you know. You need to talk to Jack about it.”
“Well, given that the first time I heard Ryland Finn’s name was when he was standing in my living room, I’m assuming I don’t know anything.”
Boon’s jaw dropped. “He was at your house?”
“Yes. Earlier this summer. I invited them over. Jack was angry, said he never wanted Finn in our house again. I brought his name up a couple of weeks later, asked Jack why he didn’t like him, and he wouldn’t answer. Said it had nothing to do with me.”
Boon shook his head, studied his hands. I sighed and sat back in the chair, frustrated.
“Just tell me what it is, Boon.”
