“A bad situation?” Emma shifted and wrinkled her brow.
“An unhappy one.” Allie corrected herself. “I know that marriage is not the same as what I went through. You walked away . . . I lost a whole decade. It’s just wasted and I can’t get it back.” Allie looked out at the ocean and then back at Emma, her voice soft.
“Of course.”
“I’ve had so much time to think,” Allie continued. “And I have some ideas . . . some theories about everything that happened.”
Wrinkling her brow, Emma leaned forward to get a better look at her sister’s face. She recognized that expression, the stubborn and determined one. “What do you mean?” Emma asked. “Theories?”
Allie licked her lips. “I know that we couldn’t ever talk about it, back at Arrendale,” she murmured, “but I’ve always thought that Sheriff Gaines had everything to do with the coach’s death.”
Blinking at her sister, Emma’s jaw fell open. “What?”
“I’m serious.”
“Stop,” Emma hissed, glancing around. Now that the restaurant had filled up, no one, thank goodness, was paying them any attention. “Do you realize what you’re saying?”
“I do.”
“This isn’t the time or the place.” Emma frowned, keeping her voice low. “Don’t you want to put the past in the past? Let it go?” She paused and held her sister’s gaze. “You’re finally free.”
Allie blinked, bit her lip, and looked away.
Managing to conjure a sympathetic look, Emma continued, “I’m so sorry. I know it’s been hard for you. But you are out of that awful place. And that’s a blessing.”
Her sister didn’t reply.
Emma unfolded the napkin over her lap. “Listen, good comes out of bad sometimes. Like all of these years—all of this time having Caroline—it’s been a blessing to me.” She watched as her sister stiffened.
As Allie stared out at the waves crashing on the shore, Emma’s lips curved into a smile. She pressed her fingertips to the center of her chest, setting her jaw as if daring her sister to look up and defy her. “I love her so much. Caroline is my whole world.”
FOURTEEN
ALLIE
2016
Emma’s words sent a jolt through Allie’s body, like a rush of adrenaline after a lightning strike. The words hung in the evening air, daring, almost taunting her, as if Allie were somehow a threat.
Allie bristled, ready to defend her rightful place as her daughter’s mother. But when she opened her mouth to argue, Emma withdrew from her, crossing her arms across her chest. This was the Emma she knew. Oversensitive, quick to react. The first to have hurt feelings.
Perhaps, Allie thought, up until that minute, she hadn’t realized the depth of Emma’s love for Caroline. Her ten years behind bars had sheltered her from real life. In the few moments during those very first years when Allie let herself dwell on everything she was missing, the regret only hollowed out her soul.
Inhaling deeply, Allie thought long and hard as the silence built between them. As a gust of wind made the napkins flutter, she bit her lip. Emma was her flesh and blood. Family. Allie could—and would—take the high road, soothing Emma’s feelings until her sister accepted that things were going to change.
And change, they would.
“I owe you so much,” Allie said, swallowing her pride. “Thank you for taking care of my daughter.”
Emma raised a brow, ready to mount a challenge.
“Really. Thank you for everything,” Allie repeated. “I mean it.”
“You’re welcome,” her sister said softly, the tension melting away from her face.
Allie blinked back tears. “I used to think I had everything all figured out, that my life was pretty close to perfect.” She caught her breath, swallowed hard. “I was so stupid. I buried myself in books, studied all the time, even after Caroline was born, like I had something to prove to the world. And all for what?” Allie said. “No one at Arrendale cared that I had a college education, that I was going to med school or wanted to be a surgeon.”
Emma hesitated. “Why?”
“Inside that place? It didn’t matter. I was nothing. Nobody.” Allie cut her hands through the air with a slashing motion. “The end.” Her words weren’t hollow. The statement was solid and true, full of regret, as if she had only a day more to live and Dr. Jack Kevorkian were waiting in the hallway, syringe in hand.
The server appeared, refilled their water glasses, and lit the candle in the middle of the table. Allie watched as the wick caught fire, staring into the red-orange flame.
If time travel existed, she would go back. In half a second, she’d climb in the contraption, however rickety, plug in the year, the month, the day. Allie would send the machine back to the precise place and moment everything changed. She’d memorized the time, the smell of the air, the sound of her dog, Molly, panting in the backseat. She could picture the open door of the pharmacy, the light spilling out onto the pavement.
Allie would erase it all, rewind, stay home. It was a snapshot, a flash, and a heartbeat like any other. A tiny moment that sent Allie’s life—and everyone else’s—hurtling in an entirely unexpected direction.
No wonder Emma was angry.
“I can’t vote, can’t carry a gun, can’t run for public office. No alcohol, no drugs, no travel overseas, and no associating with other felons. If my parole officer thinks I’m screwing up, it’s over.” Allie pressed a napkin to her face, choking back tears.
Emma frowned, putting both hands flat on the table. “This was a mistake, coming out here to dinner. Pretending everything was fine.”
The server appeared, carting a huge circular tray. Steam rose in buttery wisps from the plates. He swiveled the platter, his hand ready to serve the entrées.
“I’m sorry,” Emma said, turning to face the server. “Can you box it up?”
The man frowned, but nodded and slipped away.
Allie leaned forward, searching her sister’s eyes. She realized then that Emma was the only one who could help her reach her daughter. “So . . . will you help me talk to Caroline?”
With a frown, Emma played with her fork. “She’s scared, Allie. She hasn’t seen you in years.”
Allie’s heart raced. She pressed her fist to her lips. “But I miss her. I want her to be a part of my life again—even if it’s a very small part at first.”
Emma pursed her lips. “It’s quite a shock for everyone. Having you back here.”
Allie blinked, cut to the core. She pushed away from the table and stood up.
Emma shifted her eyes to her lap. “I didn’t—”
“Don’t.” Allie winced and held up a hand. It hurt too much, even coming from her own sister. The one person who’d stuck by her. Who was supposed to be in her corner. What Allie did know—at that moment—was one true thing: her daughter didn’t want to see her. And whatever the reason, fear, anger, sadness, it didn’t really matter.
Looking at Emma now, it was obvious. So transparent it made Allie want to scream and pound against the heart-pine floor until her palms bled or the beams buckled. She had tricked herself, bent reality into a fairy tale. It was how she’d existed the past decade, clinging to hope like a sailor in a nor’easter. Now, instead of reaching shore, Allie was a sinking ship, taking on water, not a paddle in sight.
FIFTEEN
CAROLINE
2016
Caroline’s head thudded with irritation. She didn’t know which was more frustrating: worrying about her mother messing up her life or tackling complicated geometry theorems at seven fifty-five in the morning.
As her teacher droned on near the whiteboard, Caroline did her best to shut out the world. She sat in the back of the classroom, the very last row, mercifully out of her instructor’s line of sight. It was a coveted position, a seat used to pass notes, work on overdue assignments, or study for the next test.
Maddie, unfortunately, was absent. The rest of her friends had elected out of
honors math. Today, for all intents and purposes, she was alone.
For a moment, Caroline thought that maybe if she concentrated hard enough, she could make the room disappear, and the students around her with it. She closed her eyes, leaned her elbow on the desk, and covered one ear with her palm, hoping to muffle the scratch of pencils and the shuffle of notebook pages.
It didn’t work. The noises seemed to burrow under her skin, making their way up her neck and scalp, settling in her brain. The sounds prickled, causing Caroline to fidget and scratch like she’d rolled in a bed of poison ivy.
“Miss Marshall, is there a question?” the teacher chirped expectantly in her direction.
Caroline started to say no, then changed her mind.
“Yes, ma’am. May I go to the nurses’ office?” She pressed a hand to her forehead for emphasis and drew her lips into a frown. Caroline felt everyone’s eyes swivel to the back of the room; she could feel her neck flush and tingle, the way it did when she was excited or embarrassed. Caroline just hoped she looked sick.
The math instructor waited a beat, then dismissed her with a wave of her wrist. Head down, Caroline grabbed her backpack and slung it over one shoulder. She picked up her books, clutched them to her chest, and edged out of her seat.
Girls close by bent their fair heads together and whispered. Caroline resisted the urge to jerk her head around and look. She slipped to the front of the classroom, ducked out the door, and started breathing again when her shoes hit the hallway floor. Morning light streaked through the windows, making patterns on the tiles. As she walked, her fingers traced the rows of lockers.
She was in no hurry to get to the office, which meant facing school workers with their inquiring, concerned faces. The questions would start. “Poor thing,” they’d cluck and take her temperature, maybe even call Emma. Emma, who would ask a million questions and not want her to work at the nursing home this afternoon.
Caroline stalled, scuffing the toe of her shoe as she bent over the drinking fountain and gulped at the arc of water. Refreshing, icy drops splashed her cheeks and chin. Caroline wished she had an entire pool, the size of a football field. She would dive in, sink to the bottom, and grow so cold she wouldn’t have to think, feel, or move ever again.
Her outside would be as thick and frozen as her heart and soul.
“Caro,” a voice called out from behind her.
She whirled, catching her books before they slid from her grasp.
It was Jake.
He looked amazing, his face already sun-kissed, his hair windblown, wearing a faded T-shirt and jeans that fit him just right. His skin, even from a distance, smelled warm and spicy. Caroline caught her breath.
With her mother back in town, she’d done her best to avoid him the past few days. He’d left a few voice mails. Texted.
Caroline hadn’t responded. She didn’t know what to say. Or how to feel. Shame about her mother being back had consumed her.
“Hey, stranger.” He looked quizzical, glancing her up and down. “You lost?”
Jake waited for her reply, watching her face. He didn’t realize how right he was.
Caroline tried her best to smile, but only managed to tuck her arms closer in to her body and shrink back against the brick wall. She wanted to ask what he was doing in the hallway during classes, but she couldn’t make her lips move.
Shoulders hunched, adjusting his backpack, Jake swallowed. “So, I’m glad I caught you, actually.” He shifted from side to side and darted his eyes down the hallway. He opened his palms like he was cupping their air, then let them drop. “I’ve been trying to call you. About next month,” he began. “The dance . . .”
Caroline drew in her breath.
She knew before he said it. There wouldn’t be a dance. Or movies. Or a boyfriend.
It had happened already. The news was out about Caroline’s mother, bits and pieces of gossip scattered like dandelion seeds in the wind.
“I think it’s better if we—” Jake stammered and hesitated, his forehead wrinkling. He smoothed his brown hair across his forehead, patting it down, a gesture that meant he was nervous.
Caroline stopped him. “Really?” she interrupted, fighting to keep her chin up. Inside, she was crumbling.
“It’s just that . . .” He stopped again, staring down at his shoes.
“It’s fine,” Caroline said, her voice barely audible.
Jake raised his eyes to hers.
In a stab of defiance, an effort to defend her family, Caroline stood straight and looked Jake full on.
“I know what you’re doing,” she added. “And I know why.” Her bottom lip trembled the slightest bit. She bit down to make it stop. Caroline wasn’t going to cry, not over Jake or a stupid dance, or her mother’s criminal record. “Just go. Leave me alone.”
“Okay,” he muttered.
Caroline raised her voice. She wasn’t yelling, but it felt like the effort took every ounce of her strength. Deep down, she knew it wouldn’t make much difference. In fact, it might make things worse. But Caroline couldn’t seem to stop herself.
“I’m not her, you know,” she insisted and poked at her own chest. “I didn’t do it. I didn’t do anything. I was five years old.”
The color drained from Jake’s face, leaving the surface marbled and smooth.
He backed away, slamming his shoulder and books into the row of lockers. When he moved again, his backpack zippers clanked against the metal.
A teacher opened a door into the hallway and poked her head out. “Is there a problem?” she asked, looking from Jake to Caroline. “Perhaps you two need to visit the office?”
“No, ma’am.” Jake turned on his heel and stalked off as the teacher closed the door with a quiet click.
Caroline knew full well Jake wouldn’t go to the office or his next class. Most likely he’d disappear into the bowels of the boys’ locker room, the gym, or weight room. He could do what he wanted.
Jake was untouchable. A mythical god. Royalty with a black Mercedes convertible. Like King Charles VII in Joan of Arc, the book they were reading for history class. Caroline could see the words on the page. Joan led Charles’s army into victory, securing his crown. Later, she was captured by the enemy. When the king made no effort to rescue her, Joan was burned at the stake.
Caroline shuddered, pretending to fumble with her backpack while she wiped away tears. Just like Charles and Joan, in the hour she needed him most, Jake had left her too.
SIXTEEN
EMMA
2016
Emma had worked six hours straight, tweaking and adjusting a new website for a client. Despite working her way through a bowl of stale popcorn earlier that afternoon, her stomach still rumbled, empty and protesting at nearly six o’clock.
The screen door slammed, announcing Caroline’s arrival.
“How was your day?” Emma called out, still typing.
No answer, which meant something, or nothing. There was no teenage instruction book for roller-coaster hormones, raw emotions, and accompanying mood swings.
“Caro? Is that you?”
The house echoed with the words.
Emma checked the kitchen first, where her niece liked to stand, refrigerator door wide open. She wasn’t there. The bathroom was empty, as was the back porch. Her heart began to thud against her rib cage.
Then, on cue, music floated from Caroline’s room into the hallway. Today’s selection—Killer Blue, another band out of Athens—and just as dark as Druery.
I’ll see you on the edge of never. Good-bye, good-bye, good-bye forever.
Rounding the corner, Emma found Caroline in her bedroom, lying flat on her back, shoes still on. She hadn’t bothered to even start changing out of her nursing home scrubs. Instead, she was staring at the ceiling, as if something fascinating lay hidden among the tiny bumps and ridges.
You always said we’d be together. Good-bye, good-bye, good-bye forever.
“A little morose, isn’t it, Caro?” E
mma asked. When Caroline didn’t answer, Emma turned down the volume on the speakers. She stepped closer and realized Caroline’s eyes were shining with tears. “Hey, want to talk about it?” She walked over to Caroline’s mattress and sat down on the edge.
When the bed settled, Caroline blinked, which sent a lone tear down the side of her face into her hairline. Emma fought the urge to reach out and brush it away.
“What happened? Something at school? Did someone hurt you?” Emma threw questions at Caroline like a homeland security officer interrogating a terrorist suspect.
Her niece only buried her head.
Emma set her jaw and pushed herself off the mattress. “I’m here if you need me,” she said, shaking her head. She hadn’t taken three steps when a bitter sob escaped from Caroline’s body.
“I want things to be normal,” Caroline said in a small voice. She draped the crook of her elbow across her forehead. “She should leave.”
“Who?” Emma turned and asked. “Allie?”
Caroline nodded. “I don’t want her here. It’s messing everything up.” She sniffed back tears. “Jake broke up with me,” Caroline murmured. “I mean, he started to,” she continued. “He was going to say it. He just stood there looking sick.”
A spark of fury lit in Emma’s chest. “Oh, Caro. I’m so sorry,” she said, dropping down beside the bed, gripping the duvet cover. Jake didn’t know it yet, but he would pay dearly for this.
“I told him that I’m not her,” Caroline added. “That it wasn’t my fault. I didn’t have anything to do with it.” After a deep breath, she continued. “I ended up telling Jake to go away,” Caroline added with a catch in her voice. “And he did. It’s like he never, ever cared about me at all.”
“I’m sorry,” Emma replied, stroking her niece’s arm, vowing to make Jake understand what he’d done. Emma didn’t forgive or forget.
Caroline shrugged, and her eyes welled up with tears. “But it’s like I’m guilty too.”
“No, sweetheart. You’re not,” Emma said firmly.
Sister Dear Page 9
