“Pull what off?”
Meg picked at a cuticle. “Punishing him. Ruining his life. Making him leave Salem Falls. Gillian just wanted to get him back-not for what he did to her, but for what he wouldn’t do.”
She had known about Gillian lying? And hadn’t told him? “Why didn’t you come to me, Meg?”
“Would you really have listened, Daddy? People hear only what they want to hear.”
He was the last person qualified to lecture his daughter on falsehoods and moral responsibility. Addie Peabody’s name flashed through his mind like a stroke of lightning, and he touched his daughter’s hand. “Maybe we’ll go talk to someone,” Charlie said. “Someone who can sort things like this out, who does it for a living.”
“Like a psychiatrist?”
Charlie nodded. “If you want.”
Meg suddenly seemed very, very young. “You’d go with me?” she whispered.
Charlie held out his arms, and his daughter crawled right where she belonged. He rubbed her spine, buried his face in her hair. “Anywhere,” he vowed, “and back again.”
* * *
For a horrible moment, Addie thought she had lost him. She moved through the house, wondering if she’d imagined his acquittal, calling his name and getting no answer.
Finally, she discovered Jack sitting out on Chloe’s wooden playset. In her bare feet, she padded out across the lawn to settle on a swing beside him. “Want a push?” she asked.
Jack smiled softly. “No thanks. I’ll jump when I’m ready.”
He untangled his fist from the chain and laced his fingers with Addie’s. They sat in summertime silence, bordered by the songs of crickets, watching the hot wind jump like a monkey through the fingers of the trees. “How does it feel?” Addie asked quietly.
Jack brought his fist to his chest. “Like the whole world has settled right here.”
She smiled. “That’s because you’re home.”
“Addie,” he said, “the thing is, I’m not. I can’t stay here.”
“Of course you can.”
“I meant that I can’t stay in Salem Falls, Addie. Nobody wants me here.”
“I do,” she said, going very still.
“Yes.” Jack reached for her hand, and kissed it. “That’s why I’m going to leave. God, you saw what happened today, after we left the courthouse. The mother who pulled her kid away from me on the street. The guy at the diner who walked out as soon as he saw I was there. I can’t live like that . . . and neither can you. How are you going to run a local business when people start ostracizing you, too?”
Maybe it was the heat breaking as the night rolled into Salem Falls, maybe it was the memory of her daughter playing in this very spot, maybe it was just a soul that had suffered too much to give up without a healthy fight-but at that moment, Addie made a decision. She stood, planting her feet on either side of Jack, to keep him where she wanted him. “I already told you,” Addie said, her eyes blazing, “you don’t get to leave me behind.”
“But Addie, I’m a drifter. You have a place where you belong.”
“Yes. With you.” She kissed him, her faith a brand.
By the time Addie lifted her head, Jack was smiling. “What diner?” he murmured, and yanked her onto his lap.
“My father can run it. He needs that. And I have . . . oh, about forty-two weeks of vacation time accrued.”
They swung lazily as the sun set, licking a fire up the slate path and charging the stars in the night sky. Jack imagined taking Addie to Greece, to Portugal, to the Loire Valley. He envisioned her by the Trevi Fountain, in the Canadian Rockies, on the top of the Empire State Building. “We’ll visit my mother,” he said, the thought forming in his mind like a crystal. “I think she’d like to meet you.”
“She lives in New York?”
Jack nodded. It was as good as place as any, he thought, to find a happy ending.
Shortly after midnight, Amos Duncan awakened. He lay in bed, gathering his sixth sense around him like an extra blanket, certain that something wasn’t right.
Shrugging into his robe, he padded down the hall to Gillian’s bedroom. The door was wide open, the covers on her bed thrown back.
He found her in the kitchen, sitting at the table in the dark. A glass of milk sat in front of her, untouched. Her head rested heavily on the heel of her hand; her eyes were focused on something only she could see.
“Gilly,” he whispered, so he wouldn’t startle her.
She came out of her trance, blinking, surprised to find him there. “Oh,” she said, flustered. “I was . . . I just couldn’t sleep.”
Amos nodded, his hands in the pockets of his robe. “I know. I understand. But Gillian . . . maybe it’s better this way.” She turned her face to his, so like her mother’s in this half-light. “Maybe we should just get on with our lives. Try to put this past us. Make things the way they used to be.”
When Gillian glanced away, Amos touched her jaw. “You know I’m only looking out for you, Gilly,” he murmured, smiling tenderly. “Who loves you most?”
“You do,” Gillian whispered.
Amos held out his hand, and she placed hers in it. Then he pulled her into an embrace, an old, old dance. Gillian closed her eyes, years past tears. Her mind was already a million miles away by the time her father’s mouth settled over hers, sealing their deal once again.
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Salem Falls Page 48
