I slip out of bed and nestle my head against Nate’s shoulder, my fingers sneaking up the nape of his neck to play with his hair. He continues scratching the frost until a drawing of a lopsided cabin appears.
“Grady,” he says, finger pressed to the etched cabin, “he never came to my dad’s funeral. That bastard. How my mom could stand to be around him”—he sucks in a breath, lets it drift out—“I know he’s the reason why she got out of Tilford Lake as fast as she could.”
I lower my hand from his neck. “I’m sorry about your dad. I didn’t have a chance to tell you that last night.”
He strokes his cheek up and down with the back of his fingers, fixated on the frosted glass. “He suffered, Salem. Grady was depressed over my grams, and I’m guessing over Eli, too. That’s why he kept everything together in the safe-deposit box.” I have the same running conversation in my head. “He couldn’t watch my grams die, but the weight of what he did … I bet he got worse over the years until he cracked. He left everything and took to the streets. Then took his own life. Either the loss of my grams was too much or taking Eli or both. But the two of them, Virginia and Grady”—he pauses, rubs his chin—“I don’t feel sorry for them, not after what they did. Grady had a hard life, but that doesn’t justify the fucked up things that he did.” He puts his arm around me. “You think it’s awful not to care that he was lost and alone like Virginia is now?”
I peek through the cabin etching and see Annabelle dead on her side. It’s the saddest she’s ever looked. Coated with ice, two legs in the air, her mouth wide open and filled with snow.
“I don’t know,” I whisper.
“How come? What the hell’s wrong with you, Salem?”
I look up and smile. “Funny. I believe I’m the one who said that first.”
He steals a kiss. “Thanks for listening.”
“Same. It’s nice to be more than a fuck.”
He looks at me curiously. “Should I take back the money I left on your nightstand?”
I laugh. “I’m serious, Nate. Last night with you was telling. I was sure Eli was upstairs, and you stayed awake and hung out like a best friend. Men aren’t like that.”
“Some are.”
“No, not supportive like that. The ones who pretend to be expect something in return.”
“Goes both ways, beautiful. That’s why I’m falling in love with you.” He wraps a lock of hair behind my ear.
Falling in love?
The door chime goes off. Tiny feet run inside.
Ding-ding-ding.
“I’m back. I’m back!” Finn yells. “Where’s the doggy?”
Ollie appears in the doorway of the spare bedroom, eyes aimed toward the door to the lobby. His tail wags to be let out.
“Upstairs, Finn. Let’s get our things.”
“Oh my God.” I cover my mouth, scanning the room. My clothes are scattered everywhere. “What time is it?” I try to get dressed in a rush, my hair in disarray. “Where’s my bra? Holy crap, I lost track of time.”
“It’s okay. He won’t leave without checking out. Get dressed and go out there.”
“Oh my God.”
“I’ll be in the hallway if you need me.”
“Fuck, I don’t know what to say. What do I say?” I look at him, my underwear dangling in my hand. “I haven’t figured out what to say!”
“Just go with the flow. It’ll come to you.”
I button my jeans, straighten my hoodie, and flip my head forward to fluff my hair.
“How do I look?” I flick it back and finger it into place.
“Gorgeous.” He smiles.
I run up and kiss him. “Thank you.”
Ollie and I dash down the hallway. We step through the door to an empty lobby, a room that appears larger than ever. I suck in a ginormous gulp of air, holding it for five long seconds.
Relax. Release. Repeat.
Relax. Release. Relief.
The water pipes leading from the boiler cough, a bed is bounced on, and giggles ignite the heavens. I grab the sparrow keys and lay them on top of the reception desk just as the last ember in the fireplace dies out.
A door opens and Finn runs across the balcony. He stops on the landing and sees Ollie sitting next to the bottom step.
“Doggy!” A buzz of excitement fills the room.
Ollie offers a happy bark as if Finn’s been his best friend forever. Finn races down and gives him a toddler-sized hug. “Good doggy.”
“Finn,” Eli says from the balcony. They’re dressed to leave, coats and hats, luggage in Eli’s hands. “What did I say about that?”
Finn steps away from Ollie, clasps his hands and twists back and forth. “Some doggies don’t like hugs,” he says innocently.
“And?” Eli walks down the stairs.
Finn throws his head back to look at him. “Some doggies bite.”
“That’s right.”
“He won’t bite, he’s friendly,” I say.
“He’s friendly, Daddy. Can I pet him?”
“Be gentle.” Eli sets his luggage in front of the desk and places the room key next to the sparrow keys. I follow his every move, trying to sort out the best way to begin before it’s too late. I open my mouth but feel choked. Open it and close it again. Open and close. I’m disappointed he doesn’t react to the keys.
“Leaving so soon?” I say weakly.
He rubs his tired eyes like he did when he was a baby, the smell of the greasy diner on his clothes. “My mom left. Sorry again for the trouble she caused. At least this is the last time anyone has to deal with her.”
I want to shake him and say, remember me? Remember me? Look, look at the lodge. How about the keys? Look at them. Look! Let’s head out back to the playground and start where we left off. You’re four and I’m six.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he says. He leans alongside the counter and touches each of the keys. He holds up the leather cord of the third one—his—and spins the sparrow on the desk. It flickers in the overhead lights, the cord twisting tighter and tighter until it stops. He lifts the key off the desk by the cord and watches it untwist between us, resembling a pendulum during hypnosis. “You think my mom is ill. But she’s not. I’m not going to place her in a home.” He lowers the key and spins it again. “A priest in the last town called for a senior welfare check. He said she wasn’t in the right frame of mind.” He tilts his head when the key stops, an attempt to decipher the upside down initials. “That’s not true. She’s as sharp as a tack.” He straightens up, wipes his hand down his face. “I don’t know what’s next for her, but putting her in a home isn’t the answer. After losing everyone in her life, and me and Finn moving hours away, she doesn’t need to lose her home, too. Her house is her last comfort.” He picks up the middle key—my key—and thumbs the initials. “What I’m trying to say is I hope you think twice about calling the cops over what happened here. She’s okay.”
“Wait…” I pause, unsure if he’s talking about Virginia or if he’s being cryptic about something else. Does he know?
He observes the shelf of Sparrow Lodge merchandise, the sweatshirts and hats, the logo over my heart. “She’s done searching for lost souls at funeral homes and churches. She’ll be okay now.” He sets my key down and taps Connor’s before picking up his luggage. “Ready, Finn? Let’s hit the road.”
“Let’s hit the road!” Finn runs to the door. “Bye Doggy. Bye nice lady.”
“Hold on.” I take Eli’s key and walk out from behind the desk. “You’re not … you’re …” My voice dies away.
Finn hugs Eli’s leg and throws his head back, gazing upward at the photo above the door. “Me,” he says, pointing at it. His knit hat slips over his eyes. He pushes it up and looks again.
“Do I owe more money?” Eli asks.
“No. I just…”
My mouth is full of sand. I start to tremble, my mind straining to force out the words. Any wor
ds. I won’t relive my nightmare, not now. Eli will hear me this time.
“You’re not a Pullman. You’re not her son.” For a second I don’t dare breathe. But then it sounds so simple after I repeat it. “You’re not Virginia’s son.”
Easy. This is not a complicated situation.
The news should be puzzling to him, but he’s unfazed. He looks down at Finn and doubles the folded edge of his hat so he can see. “Not the first time I’ve heard that one. My friends growing up always said Virginia couldn’t be my mom because of her age. I know I’m not her real son.” He walks toward the door. “Like I said this morning, I was adopted.”
Finn stares at the photo as Eli walks outside. “That’s me, Daddy. Look.” He points at the photograph.
“Let’s go before it gets dark.”
“Finn, wait.” I stick Eli’s key in his coat pocket. “A present.”
“I like presents.”
“Finn, you coming?”
“Let’s go see Nana.” He runs out the door. “Okay, Daddy? Let’s go.”
“Watch for ice,” Eli cautions.
“Look,” I say in too tiny of a voice for him to hear. “Come and look at the photo.” I stand on the top step and watch him buckle Finn into his car seat, my heart hiccupping.
Was expecting a happy ending unrealistic?
“Daddy, I miss Nana. Can we go see her now?”
Eli kisses Finn’s cheek and closes the door. After the luggage is in the trunk, he turns to face the lodge. I feel a serious pain in my chest. Have I failed? There’s nothing in the front yard to jog his memory. When he was here the wood was lighter, now it’s worn to black. The shutters were red, not green. The sign was brightly lit, trees were in bloom, and I was only a child, not the woman standing here, unrecognizable to him.
He gets in the driver’s seat and starts the car. Children’s music lights up the atmosphere like magic. Finn’s spirited voice harmonizes with the birds, and he entertains himself with a sweet fingerplay of “The Itsy Bitsy Spider.” Inch by inch his little hands ascend, descend, ascend way up into the air.
“You let him go?” Nate rubs my back. I give him a sad smile and place my head on his chest.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“You know why?” he asks.
“Down came the rain and washed the spider out.”
I do. I do know why.
“Out came the sun and dried up all the rain.”
The answer is in what remains, what’s left here versus what’s out there.
“And the itsy bitsy spider climbed up the spout again.”
And the answer is in the secret that Finn holds. Unlike the rest of us, he doesn’t need any reason to be happy, and I don’t want him to lose that, not at such a young age.
I train my eyes on the car disappearing in the distance, still questioning if Eli knows. He could be the one who wants to hold on to this secret. That’s sad to think about, devastating actually, but possible. I may never know. But what’s apparent is that Eli cares for Virginia. He wouldn’t have come here if he didn’t. And he loves his son. And his son loves his nana and his daddy. I can’t do to them what was done to us. I can’t have Virginia arrested and taken away from Eli and Finn. I can’t break Eli and Finn’s hearts and destroy their lives. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. But if I tell Eli what happened, there is no simple answer to what he’d do, no simple answer for him either.
“Yes, I know why I let him go.” I look up at Nate. His peaceful blue eyes match the clear sky, eyes not seeking an explanation, but a confirmation that I know what I’m doing. “Come on,” I say, “let’s go inside.”
twenty-eight
Fresh air pours into the lodge from the escape hatch. The back door is open a crack for Ollie to come inside as soon as he’s finished sniffing every tree on the property. This time I don’t feel anxious inside the room, soothed by the familiar sounds of a morning chorus of birds.
With a swift tug, the deer-patterned curtain that hides the room is freed from its rod, settling on the floor in a mound. Curtain clips jingle and showers of dust ignite. I wipe my hands clean of it and pour a cup of coffee, joining Joss and Jim back in the lobby.
Late winter downtime is at its end. Sparrow Lodge will soon be bustling with hikers, bird-watchers, families in town for summer reunions, and a long season of weddings at Clayton Barn, usually booked through fall. For now, three women arrived last night for a weekend of snowshoeing, taking advantage of the recent snowfall before April’s warmer temperatures roll in. Their feet pitter-patter above me. The coffee pot gurgles. Ollie wanders inside. And Joss and Jim kiss. But the quiet humming from Nate’s room overrides the rest. That’s the memory of this morning that I hope stays with me.
“It’s awesome,” Joss says, her helmet under one arm, ready to drive to the plant to grovel for her job back. Her gaze falls over the built-in shelves behind the reception desk.
“Connor’s quirky collection of natural wonders,” I say with a smile. “His Wunderkabinett.”
Jim steps forward and studies the shelves. “Those wonder crap things are supposed to be full of oddities, stuff not yet classified, or nutty stuff like Grady’s skeletons.”
“Who says?” Joss asks.
“Nate. I saw him look it up last night on his cell. He sent a link to his mom.”
I shrug. “Connor was fascinated by every one of these items. That’s all that matters to me.”
“But—”
“Stop.” I throw a stern look. “If I want this display to be about the lodge, the property, and my family, that’s my choice.”
He raises his hands in surrender.
Connor’s objects and my family mementos are right where they need to be. Last night, my eyes darted throughout the lobby for a good hour before lingering on the family photo above the door. That’s when all this started. That’s when I said, “Someone deserves to live,” then added, “We all deserve to live and have our memories live on.”
With Nate’s help, we transformed the shelves into the Whitfield’s very own cabinet of wonders. The Wunderkabinett that Connor had started collecting now takes the place of the Sparrow Lodge merchandise that never sells. Bird skulls, beaver teeth, trilobites, feathers, and turtle shells. Pinecones, pressed leaves, and Monarchs in glassine envelopes, a vintage map of Tilford Lake, a flyer for the treasure hunt, along with photographs of the family, the two remaining sparrow keys, and the cutest photo of little Finn.
“It’s like a massive shadow box. I love it,” Joss says.
“Yeah, I never said it wasn’t cool,” Jim adds. “Nate should turn Grady’s cabin into something like this. You know, take Grady’s ‘art’ and create a museum.” He finger quotes the word art. “It might bring more people out this way.”
“I wish,” I say under a breath.
I do wish Nate lived here, worked here, loved it here enough to stay longer.
“What’s the space on the bottom shelf for?” Joss asks.
I set my coffee on the desk and pick up the stack of my granddad’s letters. “For these. But I still have one to read.” I flip through them and lay the last one on the desk, placing the others on the shelf. “Isn’t it great? Everyone’s here, my whole family. They’re no longer shoved under beds, confined to boxes, or hidden in rafters. And for sure their energy is attached to these objects, I know the whole display will bring good vibes to the lodge.”
“Everyone’s here but one,” Joss says. “You gotta call him, Salem.” I look up, her arm linked with Jim’s. “You have Eli’s home phone number. You have his address from when he checked in. Call him or drive out there. He’s only three hours away.”
I shake my head. “He’s alive and happy. That’s the best news ever.”
“You don’t know if he’s happy.”
“Yes, I do. I saw him with Finn. They’re happy.”
“You’re so fucking weak.”
“Joss, it’s not fair to ruin what he
has.”
“Fair? Excuse me?” She folds her arms. “Call him.”
I shake my head again, flattening my granddad’s crumpled letter. “Nope.” I put it in my hoodie pocket for later. “I’m not going to be selfish. It can’t all be about what I want.”
“Sure it can.”
“Joss, no … give me time to think about what might happen if I call. I need to sort it out in my head first.”
She walks up to me, cups my chin. “Jesus, Salem. You know what I think?” A pause. She wants an answer. No answer. “I’ll tell you what I think.” She speaks with heat. “Eli knows. He knows, but he’s too much of a sweetheart like you to say anything. It’s like, what happens when two Whitfields walk into a room? Nothing!” She releases my chin. “I saw the way he looked at this place. He remembered Annabelle, the sparrow window, and the fireplace. And he looked right at the door to the private quarters.” She points. “He knows what’s back there. He touched his chest where the key used to be.” She taps her chest. “I saw him. He knows.”
My chin stings from being gripped. I rub it while grimacing. “If that’s the case, then our decision was mutual. But that’s not what happened. I waited and he didn’t say anything.”
She throws up her hands, outright, utterly peeved. “Babe, you make no sense.”
“I’m broken.”
“Quit it.”
“Hey, maybe I fucked up, okay? Or maybe he’ll come back when he’s ready. But I waited and nothing happened.”
“Why would he speak up if you didn’t? Dummy. And nothing happened? Really?” She’s as hot-tempered and as sassy as ever. “I know you. You’re not okay with this. You’re trying to make everything work out for the best in your head, but it’ll kill you.” She raises a finger. “First you’re gonna start a million projects to keep yourself busy so you don’t have to think about him. Like this display.” A second finger shoots up. “Then you’ll crash and get depressed.” A third. “Then I’m gonna get a call that you thought you saw Eli walking through the forest. You’ll say he came back to spy on you. Right?” Her wild hair bounces. “I’m right. So before that happens, please, please, just call him.” She puts her hands on her hips and stands on her tiptoes to try to appear taller than me. I love her more than ever. What a badass. “Don’t you smile at me.” I smile even wider. “I’ll say something to him if I ever see him again. I will. Or maybe I’ll be the one who calls.”
The Release of Secrets_Littlest Sparrow Gone Page 25
