Drowning With Others

by Linda Keir

  “How’s your book going?” she asked suddenly.

  He laughed ruefully. “Not well. Teaching investigative journalism to high school students was a lot more demanding than I expected.”

  “You’re not going to write about all this, are you?”

  “Nope,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’m too far into the other project. With luck I can find another teaching gig to help me finish—only it better be someplace boring.”

  “I think this was one in a million,” said Cassidy.

  “Listen, Cassidy,” said Mr. Kelly. “It’s been a pleasure having you in class. You’re a smart kid and a hard worker. I know you’re going to go far.”

  She surprised herself by giving him a hug. It was quick, and he only half returned it, but the brief contact brought back all the weirdness with Mom, and she regretted it before she even let go.

  Mr. Kelly seemed embarrassed.

  “Good luck!” he said as he sauntered off.

  Then Cassidy saw Tate staring and realized he’d been watching. He looked kind of pissed.

  She just gave him a big smile and started moving toward him, taking her time.

  He’d get over it.

  CASSIDY COPELAND: CLASS of 2019

  Monday, March 25, 2019

  I’m guessing most people go through their lives without ever having their teacher (that would be Mr. Kelly) call them aside before class (that would be the journalism seminar) and inform them (i.e., ME) that they played a role in getting an innocent man out of jail where he might have been railroaded into prison for MURDER.

  It’s not like my life is complete or anything, because I have a long way to go and a lot more to accomplish. But even if this is it, my Big Moment, that’s pretty cool.

  I’ll be honest: I didn’t write in this journal much. When I did, I kind of had to make myself do it. And like a lot of people, I spent a lot of time over four years wondering what would possibly be worth recording on my senior page.

  I guess I kind of hit that ball over the fence, huh?

  Now that I’m ready to leave Glenlake and find out what else is out there, I’m so glad I was able to make my mark on the school. Glenlake should be about more than getting good grades, maintaining traditions, and preparing to become the next generation of leaders. If we’re going to be great, we also need to care about the world outside our little bubble. And that, more than anything, is what I’m proud of: that, through Glenlake, I got to change the life of a human being.

  Hopefully, social justice will be my legacy and part of the new Glenlake tradition.

  “To the seventh Copeland generation to survive and thrive at Glenlake,” said Cope breezily, holding up an imaginary glass after they finished reading Cassidy’s senior page.

  For the moment, they were alone in their corner of the library—nonfiction, noted Ian.

  “The ‘seventh generation,’” said Biz. “That’s very poetic.”

  “It’s from some Bible verse,” said Cope.

  “No, it isn’t,” Ian contradicted him bluntly. “It’s from an Iroquois saying about considering the impact of everything you do on future generations.”

  Cassidy’s deserved feelings of pride over what had been rigged, manipulated, and wholly corrupt machinations filled him with unspeakable sadness. That his brilliant, credulous daughter had been used in this way . . .

  “Well, isn’t that why we do everything?” asked Cope. “For the next generations?”

  “It’s a nice sentiment,” Biz said matter-of-factly, “but sometimes we do things because we need to protect the present-day generation, too.”

  Ian didn’t like the expression on his mother’s face or the tone of her voice. There was something hard there, something he hadn’t seen or heard since . . . senior year.

  “What are you suggesting, Biz?” asked Andi as if she were having the same sickening realization he was.

  They knew, too?

  “Things happen, Andi. Affairs of the heart and so on. But we can’t let them destroy the institutions we rely upon.”

  “You were a part of it,” stated Andi, going pale.

  “We didn’t give the order, of course,” said Cope, “though we paid for the private investigator. We needed to know who you left Ian for, to help him get back on track. And then we gave a big donation to hide the ongoing payments to Roy. We weren’t going to stand by and let it go on, especially once we found out that he took you to a drug house. Not when our son’s one true love was involved.”

  Andi looked stricken, and Ian knew just how much weight she’d been carrying since learning Dallas hadn’t abandoned her by choice.

  “The snitch was you?” Andi speculated.

  “No,” Cope said. “Roy’s poor choice of companions was all on him.”

  “We love our son more than anything, and he loved you, and we did want to help free you from the situation you’d gotten yourself into,” said Biz, insufferably smug. “Just like Cope and all the trustees helped other students over the years, by getting the wrong men to move along.”

  “With beatings, or threats of beatings?” demanded Andi.

  “The others took the hint,” said Cope gruffly.

  Ian wondered why it was so hard for him to say anything. Why he felt like a bystander. Thinking about how he’d been duped, too. How his parents had known what was going on all along.

  “He was preying on you, Andi, and we couldn’t let it go on,” said Biz, as another group of parents, recalcitrant son in tow, appeared at the far end of the wall and scanned for his senior page. “He wouldn’t leave, and he was bragging about that stupid book of poems he was going to publish, how it was going to make him famous and open everyone’s eyes about places like Glenlake.”

  “Glenlake Girl,” said Ian softly, remembering the title from Andi’s journal. “Was his death even an accident?”

  “Roy told Linc Darrow it was,” said Cope with a shrug. “I’ll be damned if we were going to let that bastard bring down our school.”

  The other family, still looking for their son’s page, was getting closer. They had to leave or risk being overheard.

  “We saw it as our job to make sure the two of you were kept out of harm’s way,” said Biz. “Helicopter parenting. I think that’s what you call it these days. Right?”

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  Over the years, Andi had done keyword searches on Dallas Walker, David Dallas Walker, titles of his poems, and even phrases like bad-boy poets. For whatever reason, using an actual line of his work never occurred to her until she came across a faded piece of notebook paper at the bottom of an old jewelry box filled with partnerless earrings and other forgotten trinkets.

  She entered the first line of the poem Dallas had tucked into the knothole of the tree where they’d exchanged messages.

  When every damn thing reminds me of you

  On the first page of results was a link to a PDF of the fall 1997 issue of an obscure poetry journal called Less Traveled.

  Containing Dallas Walker’s poem “And I Love.”

  The poem he’d so obviously written for her.

  Remarkably, the journal still existed as an online publication. From the FAQ, she learned that it had also functioned as a publishing house for decades, producing one or two poetry books per year. Most were anthologies, but some were collections of work from single poets. She used the web form to inquire whether any additional work by Dallas Walker had been submitted or published, and an intern replied with a noncommittal note saying she’d look into it.

  Andi was surprised when her phone rang two weeks later.

  “I received a manuscript from Dallas Walker right after I agreed to publish that first piece in the fall issue,” the publisher told her in a soft southern accent, sounding like the aged eccentric he probably was. “I wrote him back and said I liked the poems and wanted to do a book, but he never answered. When I found out he’d disappeared, I tried talking to his ex-wife, but she had zero interest in working with me. So I
let it go.”

  “You wouldn’t by any chance still have the manuscript, would you?” Andi asked.

  “You’re dealing with the last of the original pack rats, sugar,” he said. “I’ve got every scrap of paper that ever passed through my hands. Unfortunately, all the old stuff is in my storage unit, and I don’t get around as well as I used to.”

  But when Andi hinted she might be willing to pay to acquire the manuscript, the publisher said he could probably put one of my interns on it. Knowing as she did that almost all poetry was published at a loss, a cash infusion proved to be a powerful incentive.

  And a month later, she had in her possession the only known copy of Glenlake Girl.

  As expected, the manuscript contained thinly obscured but no less fucked-up declarations of his love for a teenager:

  Love’s half life, the Age of Innocence

  Triggering the chain of decay

  There were far too keen, even prescient observations about the downsides and potential dangers of boarding school existence:

  The old teach the young the ways of the old

  Wanting only to be young once again

  But, other than a few telling references to the cliffs over Lake Loomis, there was no mention of the bust of Augustus Copeland, no description of Headmaster Darrow’s distinctive mansion, not even Dallas’s view from the writer in residence’s cottage.

  He could have been writing about life, love, and the stark beauty of a crisp fall day anywhere.

  The scouring wind stings our cheeks

  Dead leaves burst brightly into bloom

  Lowering sun, we hurry home

  And fall into our room

  The word bloom recurred in fully one-third of the poems.

  Dallas Walker had been a charming, talented sociopath who’d left behind a legacy of pain and secrets. But did he deserve to pay the ultimate price for his devil-may-care approach to art and life?

  Did she, for succumbing to his charms?

  In some ways, Ian, who’d been in his study reading the manuscript since midafternoon, had suffered the most.

  Andi didn’t know what to expect when she told Ian she’d not only found the manuscript but now owned the rights. She read every poem dozens of times before sharing her idea to publish the book herself. Living with what they now knew, she explained, was in many ways harder than the secret she’d planned to take to her grave. She accepted the reality that Dallas had preyed on her, but like Cassidy, she couldn’t accept the injustice of his sentence. Putting the book out into the world was her gesture against complicity.

  Besides, the poems were good.

  She expected Ian to argue that she was putting herself at risk of exposure, not to mention his parents, their children, and ultimately Glenlake itself. And wasn’t that why they’d had no choice but to remain silent in the first place?

  Emerging just before dinner, he went straight to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a bourbon.

  “Obviously, the book can’t be titled Glenlake Girl,” he said.

  “No,” she said. “But you’re okay with the idea of publishing it?”

  “You realize someone will connect this to Glenlake.”

  “I know. But it’s the only way I can live with the truths we’ve been forced to bury.”

  Ian was quiet for a moment. “Then again, how many people are actually going to read a book of poetry?”

  “Hopefully enough to break even,” she said.

  “You’re the publisher,” he finally said.

  She took the drink out of his hand, put it down, and wrapped him in a hug.

  “I did see a line that would make an interesting title,” he added.

  “What was it?” she asked.

  “Drowning with others.”

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  This book would not have been possible without Alison Dasho, Alicia Clancy, Caitlin Alexander, and the wonderful Lake Union team, especially Shasti O’Leary Soudant, Gabe Dumpit, and Paul Zablocki. Special thanks to agent extraordinaire Josh Getzler and the talented crew at HSG. Piper Stevens provided helpful insight into boarding school life.

  DISCUSSION QUESTIONS

  In Drowning with Others, Andi and Ian both suspect each other of having killed Dallas. Were you surprised by their fierce need to protect each other from the consequences? Are there circumstances in which a spouse should be willing to overlook his or her partner having committed a crime? Why or why not?

  Legacy is an important theme throughout this novel: at Glenlake, within the Copeland family, and regarding Dallas Walker’s poetry. Do you agree that legacy is worth protecting? To what extent?

  Both Andi and Ian keep secrets from each other: Andi hides her relationship with Dallas, and Ian hides his business partnership with Preston. Why were they unable to be honest with each other? Would the novel have ended differently if they’d been up-front from the beginning? If you found yourself in a similar situation, do you think you would be able to come clean to your significant other?

  Cassidy finds herself in a difficult position in the novel—hiding evidence to protect her parents. What would you have done in her place? Is there anything Ian and Andi could have done differently to keep her from having to make that choice?

  What is the role of poetry in the novel? Why do you think the authors chose poetry as a creative medium within the novel? How do you express yourself creatively?

  Drowning with Others unfolds over two timelines and two generations. Were the journal entries an effective way to convey what Glenlake was like twenty years before? Why or why not? Have you ever kept a journal? If so, do you think it offers an accurate reflection of the time period?

  The role of parents is very important in the novel. Can you understand why Cope and Biz helped cover up the murder? Would you have done the same, or would you have done something differently? Is there anything you wouldn’t do to protect the people you love?

  The story centers on an illicit romance between a student and her teacher at boarding school. What are the unique circumstances that can foster such relationships at boarding schools? How do you think these relationships should be handled?

  Andi and Ian come from very different families and go to boarding school for very different reasons. What are these reasons, and how do you think they affect the characters’ self-esteem? Does Andi’s relationship with Dallas stem, at least in part, from insecurity?

  How is Cassidy influenced by her family name and the pressure to keep up with the legacy of being a Copeland in general and Andi and Ian’s daughter in particular?

  Andi and Ian have built a loving, long-term marriage despite the lie buried in its foundation. Do you believe the secrets of the past always come back to haunt the present? Could the couple have lived in happy denial forever had Dallas’s body not been discovered?

  Boarding school is a tradition in many upper-class families. While a boarding school education is synonymous with academic excellence and future success, what are the emotional drawbacks of being separated from one’s family as a minor?

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Photo © 2018 Mark Stevens

  Linda Keir is the pen name of Linda Joffe Hull and Keir Graff. Drowning with Others is their second book together.