“How are you, Cassie?”
“Curious.”
“I was so sorry to hear about Mark. He was always such a wise presence in parent meetings.”
“Yes, I think the school sent a sympathy card.”
“I can understand why you’re angry.”
“I’m not angry so much as mystified. I’m living in Florida now. If you’ve changed your mind about Savannah’s expulsion, you’re a bit late.”
“Here’s the reason I’m calling,” Diane said. “Our honor code says that students must uphold standards of truth, honor and integrity. The faculty and administration have to be held to the same standards. And this week I’ve learned that despite looking into the fight between Savannah and Gillie Robinson myself, despite separating the girls who were there and insisting each one tell me exactly what happened, I didn’t dig deeply enough.”
Cassie found an overturned storage bucket and lowered herself to it. “Go on.”
“Savannah said that Gillie had been persecuting a younger girl—”
“Liza.”
“Yes. Liza Jenkins. At the time I questioned her myself. She was emotionally overwrought, and I sympathized. But when she told me that Gillie hadn’t bothered her, that Savannah attacked Gillie for something else, I felt I had no choice but to believe her. Liza was supposed to be the victim, and she claimed she wasn’t.”
“For the record, I remember the story. For us, after all, it was life altering.”
Diane sighed. “I demanded Savannah tell me the real truth. I don’t know if you know this part, Cassie, but the last time I met with her alone, I told her if she would just admit what she’d done, I would find a way to keep her at the academy, even though Gillie claimed she’d been injured and her parents were furious.”
Cassie could envision her daughter in front of the headmistress, head high, shoulders back, eyes shooting fire. “She said no, right? She refused to tell you the version of the events that you wanted to hear. She repeated what she’d already told you.”
“And because she refused to budge, I had no choice but to expel her from the school.”
“Which you did quickly and efficiently.”
“Yes.” Diane paused. “And incorrectly as it turns out. Savannah should never have laid a hand on Gillie, but she told the truth. This week Liza made a suicide attempt—”
Cassie clutched the phone harder. “No—”
“Don’t worry. She’s fine. It was a small cut on her wrist, a plea for help. She’s in counseling, and she’s getting the help she needed. But afterward she confessed that Gillie has been harassing her for more than a year, and she was terrified to admit it. Gillie told her that her family gave a lot of money to the academy, and we would never send her away, no matter what she did. Liza was desperate. She thought if she supported Savannah’s story, Gillie would hurt her even more seriously. By the same token, she thought if she agreed that Gillie’s version was true, Gillie might finally leave her alone. Fortunately for us, we installed better video after the incident with Savannah—wider coverage, clearer images. After Liza was hospitalized we reviewed several days of footage and caught Gillie shoving her and calling her horrible names.”
Cassie couldn’t help herself. “So tell me, was Liza right? Was Gillie’s family too important to expel her? Did you make her stay late one afternoon and write a paper on bullying?”
“Gillie’s gone. Forever. And now that she is, the other girls who were there when Savannah defended Liza have come forward to admit they were afraid of Gillie, too, and didn’t tell the truth.”
Cassie had discharged enough anger that now she just felt sad and tired. “Do you have any idea how this affected our family? Mark believed you, even when I didn’t at first. He convinced me I was twisting facts to match my idealized version of our daughter. And Savannah? She came away convinced that telling the truth and protecting the weak aren’t all they’re cracked up to be. Pfeiffer removed a barrier in her mind between doing what’s right and doing whatever she wants, because nobody will see the difference anyway.”
Diane sounded sad, too. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I promise I did investigate thoroughly, that I never believed Gillie over Savannah just because Gillie’s family were generous donors. You were donors, too, and it wasn’t about money anyway, although too many things at the academy are. In the long run it was four girls against Savannah, and even the so-called victim sided with the others.”
Cassie didn’t want to see Diane’s side, but she could. The headmistress had always tried to be fair, and Cassie had seen tears in her eyes the day she told Savannah she had to leave that afternoon for good.
“All right,” she said after a long moment. “Thank you. Calling me can’t have been easy.”
“Would you like me to talk to Savannah? Or would you like to talk to her first and prepare her? Either way I need to apologize directly.”
Cassie didn’t want to explain that Savannah was no longer living with her. Diane felt enough guilt without knowing that.
“I’ll talk to her,” she said. “And I’ll let you know if she wants to talk to you.”
“I would appreciate that. Are you both doing okay? Under the circumstances?”
“We’ve been better,” Cassie said.
“Please know I’ll be thinking about this for a very long time.”
Cassie hung up. For the first time since Savannah had disappeared into the bowels of the airport without her, Cassie was glad her daughter was gone. Now she had time to consider what to say and how to say it.
She was afraid no words had been invented to convey what she was feeling.
35
SAVANNAH HOPED THAT WHEN she was finally back in school, life in Palm Springs wouldn’t be as boring or lonely as it was now. Pauline rarely spoke, except to tell her what to do, and when Gen was home, which was rare enough, she didn’t consult Savannah about things they could do together. Instead she entertained her daughter with stories about her day.
The pattern was familiar. Their week in Paris when Savannah turned thirteen was an example. Gen had been so excited to plan a trip to celebrate Savannah’s first teenage birthday. Savannah, who had been studying Spanish for two years, had really wanted to go to Barcelona. She’d studied the city and written a paper about Antoni Gaudi, and she was excited to see his flamboyant architecture up close. She’d mentioned Barcelona as an alternative, but Gen had run right over her. Every girl needed to see Paris. All the designer boutiques, the shopping, the Louvre.
Savannah liked to shop for maybe an hour. After that she was bored. She wasn’t crazy about French food, and while she liked art and museums, countless hours at the Louvre hadn’t sounded like fun, especially with no chance to try out her language skills.
Of course the trip had been incredible—being with Gen always was—but the entire time, a part of her had still wished they were in Spain.
Afterward when Savannah had mentioned her feelings to her father, he had pointed out that Gen lived alone, so she wasn’t used to consulting anyone. And Gen had to make decisions quickly. She had to rely on herself without worrying about the opinions of others.
Savannah heard the message. Gen wasn’t going to change, so Savannah needed to adjust. At the time she had wondered if her father had married Cassie at least partly because she was a team player.
“It’s not that Gen doesn’t listen,” she told Will on the telephone that evening. She’d been in Palm Springs for four days, and while Gen had taken her hiking in the Indian Canyons early one morning and had promised to take her out to dinner tomorrow, mostly Savannah had been at home with Pauline. She didn’t hate the housekeeper, but she disliked being forced to listen to her expound about not wearing shoes inside or why Savannah should wipe down the sink every time she used it. Savannah was just one rule away from telling Pauline to post a list, since nobody could keep that many edicts
in their head. She could imagine how that would go over.
“Then what is it?” Will sounded tired. School was still in session in Tarpon Springs, and he was working the maximum hours allowed at the Kouzina, which remained in the throes of tourist season.
They had talked or at least texted almost every night since she left. Savannah was hungry to know what was happening at school and with her friends.
“She listens if I can get her attention. It’s just that...” Savannah tried to find the best way to say it. “It’s like I’m an afterthought. And I don’t mean that in a spoiled brat kind of way, you know? I don’t expect her to be dancing around, waiting on my every whim. I just think that most of the time she’s only listening when she realizes she’s supposed to be. Then she rivets attention on me, and it’s almost scary. Like she’s trying to suck everything out of the conversation.”
“Does she have friends?”
“She talks to some guy every night, somebody she met in Africa last year. He lives in Oregon. I get the feeling she had to cancel some kind of trip they were going to take together, or a week shacked up in some lodge.”
“Because of you?”
“That’s my guess. She doesn’t complain or anything.”
“Makes sense she had a life before you got there.”
“My dad had a life, too, but he was still there for me. Like Amber is for you.”
“She probably has to get used to having you around.”
“If she can.”
“Cassie was like that for you, too. The way my mom is for me, I mean.”
She started to protest, then she fell silent.
“She misses you,” he said.
Cassie had left several voice mail messages, but Savannah hadn’t responded. “She called and said she needs to talk to me about something. Do you know what?”
“Why don’t you call her and see?”
“I don’t think so.” Savannah wasn’t even sure why she didn’t want to talk to Cassie. Of course, she was still angry. Yes, she wanted a clean break with her stepmother, or thought she did. But there was more, and she couldn’t shove it away.
No matter how she felt about Cassie now, Will was right. Cassie had been there for her. Even when Savannah was kicked out of Pfeiffer Grant, Cassie had tried to get her to open up, to talk about what had happened and what to do next. Her father had simply walked away.
“If you won’t talk to her,” Will said, “I’m going to. I’m going to tell her where we were the weekend of the field trip. I guess I’ll just have to deal with my mother knowing the truth, too. But Cassie needs to know you did it for me, to help me.”
“It’s way late for that, and it’s not a good idea anyway.” Savannah looked at the clock on Gen’s desk, which remained across from the sofa—which also remained where it had always been. Gen had promised they would shop for bedroom furniture over the weekend, but Savannah wondered if she would be consulted about those choices.
“Look, I have to go,” she said. “I know it’s past eleven there. I’m an hour early, but—” She launched into a chorus of “Happy Birthday.”
Will laughed when she’d finished. “You can’t sing.”
“It’s the thought that counts.”
“Thank you for remembering.”
“What are you planning to do?”
“Mom and Cassie are taking me to Rusty Bellies for dinner. I already know what Mom got me. An iPad so I don’t hog our computer all the time. Cassie’s getting me a keyboard case to go with it.”
“That’s cool. I got you something, too.”
“More cool. Where and what?”
Savannah hoped she hadn’t made another mistake. “I feel bad that the trip to Georgia was such a bummer. And I know you don’t want to tell your mom what we learned. So I thought of a way for you to maybe get a little information on your own.”
“I’m not driving anywhere again.”
“Wimp. This is much easier. I bought you a 23andMe test kit.” He was silent so long, she thought she had to explain. “You spit in a tube, and then they find your biological relatives, but you don’t have to tell anybody, not even the people they match you with. You can bypass Amber entirely. She never has to know.”
“Are you crazy?”
“No! Look, it’s already on the way to you. I made up a name for your registration. Jake Green. So it’s coming to Jake Green at our house, and I created an email address at Yahoo for all their correspondence. I’ll text it to you with the password, and you can change it to keep the account private. You usually get the mail anyway. Just grab the package from the mailbox. I had to kinda lie, you know. Not just about your name and address, but your age, too. You’re supposed to be eighteen, but that doesn’t matter because it’s all about your spit. And nobody’s allowed to get in touch with you unless you want them to. It’s like foolproof!”
He was silent so long again, she gave up. “Okay, you don’t have to do it. They don’t care if you never send it in. They got their money. But if you’re going to, the sooner you do, the sooner you hear back. Maybe the kit will turn up something, and maybe it won’t, but how can it hurt?” She paused for just a moment to let that sink in. “And you know, your father might be registered. Maybe he’s still alive.”
“I don’t know...”
She was glad he was still there. “I just wanted to make something good out of something bad.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“At least it’s an interesting birthday present, right?”
“Interesting. Thank you, I think.”
“Have a good one, Will.”
“Call Cassie, Savannah.”
She disconnected. She missed Will. She’d really only been gone a few days, so it seemed weird to miss him already, but she missed her whole life in Florida. She missed the way Cassie and Amber always made sure there was lots of food to choose from at meals, and the goodies Cassie baked for their morning rush out the door. She missed Yiayia’s Kouzina and Greek food that made her stomach happy in a way that Pauline’s spartan salads never did. She’d spoken to both Helia and Minh, but phone calls weren’t very satisfying. With Helia, interpreting subtle changes in facial expression was the key to figuring out what she really thought. And Minh was so busy worrying about Savannah’s sudden departure that she couldn’t talk about anything else.
She even missed her History class. That was unexpected.
She wondered what might have happened if she’d taken Cassie aside to tell her where she’d really been that weekend and asked her not to tell Amber. Cassie wouldn’t have been happy. She would have been furious that Savannah had ranged so far on a wild-goose chase that was none of her business to start with. But would she have gone to Amber and caused a problem for Will? Will’s father was a delicate matter, and Savannah had tried to protect both Blairs.
Now, just thinking about it, she realized she probably should have trusted her.
And if she had? Would she still be living in Tarpon Springs?
It didn’t matter. Once she was enrolled in school here, once she didn’t have to hang around Pauline all day, and maybe once she had fun things to relate to Gen at day’s end, maybe then, everything would be better than okay. She would be fine.
She tried not to think about how Cassie would be.
* * *
The next evening when Gen said she was taking Savannah to a popular vegetarian café, Savannah knew it was time to assert herself. “I was hoping for a burger, Gen. I’ve pretty well reached my limit on salads.”
“I promise you’ll love this place. They have all kinds of plant-based burgers. You won’t be able to tell the difference.”
Savannah was pretty sure she would. She suggested pizza, but Gen told her they were ordering pizza on Sunday night because that was Pauline’s day off.
“Trust me on this,” Gen said.
Savannah thought she ought to embroider the phrase on a pillow to give Gen for Christmas.
The café was only a short drive away, cute and informal, wooden benches and tables, cartoonish art on walls of more wood, which took some of the sting out of being there for Savannah. As they walked past other tables, the food made her mouth water.
“I’ve had the jalapeño burger,” Gen said after they were seated. “It’s scrumptious, and the nachos are amazing. We can share a plate.”
Savannah was in the mood to protest, but she loved nachos, and a quick glance at the menu showed that the jalapeño burger really did look awesome—if it didn’t taste like boiled peas.
Gen ordered the nachos to share, the jalapeño burger for Savannah, and a Nashville hot “chicken” sandwich for herself. When she suggested Savannah try the sweet potato fries as her side, Savannah asked for regular fries instead. A skirmish, not a battle, but she was glad to see Gen didn’t care.
“I try to come here when I can,” Gen said. “Whenever I’m here, I think how much I want to share it with you when you visit.”
“I haven’t been in Palm Springs all that much. We usually travel when we’re together.”
Gen had a lovely smile, sort of a Julia Roberts twinkle in her eyes, and Savannah was always happy when it was aimed at her. “I’m more of a tour guide than a mother, aren’t I?”
Savannah was thrown off guard. Of course, it was true, but she hadn’t realized Gen knew it, too. “I guess... I guess being a mother takes a lot of practice.”
“I know.” Gen picked up her fork like she wanted to stab something, but nothing presented itself. She set it back down. “Savannah, did your dad or Cassie ever explain why he had you most of the year and I only had you for a few weeks?”
“You traveled a lot and he didn’t. Then he married Cassie and I had two parents in New York.” She leaned forward. “Was that true?”
“As far as it went, but there was a lot more.”
“Maybe I ought to hear it?”
“Do you really want me to go into it? It’s not a story to stop in the middle.” When Savannah nodded, Gen started slowly. “You know I was raised in Nigeria? You only met your grandparents once when you were much younger, but they are rigid people, much more focused on hell than heaven, on what we do wrong rather than God’s mercy. In fact they’re so strict and unforgiving, a few years ago they were nudged into administration at the denominational office in South Africa. These days they’re pushing paper around, not children.”
The House Guests Page 33
