I didn’t say anything, knowing it wasn’t a question I could answer or even that he was truly asking. But I reached for him, resting my fingers briefly on his face. “Kevan,” I whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
He blinked and seemed to focus on my face. “Was that all I was to her? The only choice when she found out she was pregnant? She knew how I felt about her and she took advantage of me when it was really Finn she loved the whole time?”
I scooted closer to him and took both his hands in mine. “I’m sure it was more complex than that.”
He shook his head, his eyes once again far away. “Finn didn’t know before these emails. I’m sure of that.”
“Where is Finn’s computer? It was the only thing that seemed missing from the house.”
“What do you mean? Missing?”
“Everything’s left as it was. Furniture’s still in the house, beds are still made, there are towels hung in the bathrooms. It seems untouched by anything but dust and mildew.”
“But why wouldn’t Mother have had everything removed? It doesn’t make any sense. When she said she was closing up the house I assumed she would have everything removed. Or, at the very least, covered with blankets and cloths.”
“I can’t imagine.”
He rose and paced between the couch and the window. “Maybe she can’t face it. I know I couldn’t. I just try and forget the house is even on the property.”
I let him pace for a moment, so he could think without my voice interrupting. After a few minutes, he went to the kitchen and reached above the refrigerator. There were various liquors up there; he grabbed a bottle of scotch and poured some into a tumbler. He came back to the couch and sat. “Jesus, what am I going to tell Rori?”
“You don’t have to decide right now.”
“She’s my daughter, you know, no matter what. I’ve raised her.”
“She’ll understand that, Kevan. I know she will.”
He downed the scotch and set the glass on the coffee table. “Does she need to know the truth? Or will it just hurt her more? Maybe even make her hate me more than she already does now?”
“You’re the only one who can decide that,” I said, gently. “But I do think the truth is always best. What if she finds out later in some other way? If she knew you knew all this time and didn’t tell her, that could wreck any chance you have of a relationship with her.”
“Meredith’s the gift that keeps on giving. She’s an unending source of pain. Everything I thought I knew turns out to be untrue.” Resting his face in his hands, he spoke through his fingers. “I have to tell Rori the truth. You’re right.”
I moved closer to him and put my arm around his shoulder. He rested his head against my neck. “I’ll help you. Whatever you need. I’m a woman. I can help her through it, maybe?”
“Why would you do that?” He raised his head to look into my eyes. “What are we doing here, Blythe?”
Despite my best efforts, tears filled my eyes. “I don’t know exactly. All I know is that there have been times in my life when I knew I was exactly where I should be and this is one of them.”
“Is it that you can’t let go of Finn?”
It was my turn to shake my head. “This isn’t about Finn any longer.”
“What do you mean?” His eyes searched my face like a lost tourist looking at a map.
“It’s about you. And Rori. And the rest of your family, for that matter. Finn’s gone. Do I regret my choices? Yes. Will I always wonder what might have been? Yes. But Finn’s gone. And you’re here. From the minute I met you, I felt something come alive in me. I don’t know why or where it’s headed or even if you feel the same way about me but I know I don’t want to live so passively, so carefully any longer. I’m here—ready to fight with you—ready to figure out what really happened. And my gut is telling me the way it looked—that the two of them were running away together—is not what actually happened.” I reached for the file folder and held it in the air. “Finding this today proved that to me once and for all. I don’t think they were leaving town together, Kevan. The Finn I knew would never have loved a woman who lied to him and his brother about the true paternity of her daughter.”
He looked at me long and hard. “In my heart I believe that too. I knew him when he was a little boy. There was no one purer of heart than Finn.”
“If he’d known about Rori, he would’ve married Meredith. That’s the kind of man he was,” I said.
“That’s true. But he didn’t love her. He told me that when I went to him and asked for his blessing. He gave it to me gladly. We agreed it was weird but he said if I could live with the fact that he’d slept with her then he could too. He said, ‘Man, if you’re okay and you love her, I support you a hundred percent.’ But I wasn’t fine with it, Blythe. I never got past it. I never trusted that she didn’t love him and not me.”
“But that was about her, not Finn.”
He nodded his head in agreement. “That’s true. I don’t think she ever got over him and I was second choice, a necessary choice since she already knew she was pregnant.”
“So your feelings were real, not imagined. You didn’t do this, Kevan. Meredith did.”
He sat with that for a moment, running his hands through his hair. “I feel certain Sloane had something to do with their deaths. But why?” He looked up at me. “Do you think he killed them?”
“If so, why?”
“I can’t imagine.” Next, Kevan said the thing I’d been thinking. “There’s no way to figure it out because Finn’s not here to ask. Whatever it was, Sloane must have covered it up by now.”
I gave him a moment before I said this next thing. “Do you think there’s any way we could find his computer? I have to believe there are answers there.”
“Mother has an assistant, Carol. As far as I know, she took care of all the details of Finn’s estate after he died. Maybe she knows where it went. I’ll call her.” He tried to stand, unsteadily, like the drink had gone to his head. I put out my hand to stabilize him and as I did so, he fell back against me like he could not stop himself. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held him, my face at his chest so that I heard his pounding heart. “Blythe, I don’t know if I’m strong enough for this. Especially Rori.”
I looked up into his face. “I’ll help you sort it all out. We can do it together.”
“No, Rori’s something no one can help me with.” He pulled away, his face twisted in pain. “I’ll go call Carol about the computer.”
I nodded as I picked up the file from the coffee table and handed it to him. “Take this. Let me know what you find out.”
“I will,” he whispered. He stood, and then he was gone. I went to the window, watching him traipse across the lawn like a man with a bruised limb. Above, in the sky, a dusty purple rain cloud moved over the sun. A few minutes later, thunder shook the house. And then it began to rain. I did not see any of the Lanigan clan for the rest of that afternoon or evening. I went to bed early and fell asleep thinking of Kevan’s face as it crumpled from the truth.
***
I dreamt of Finn. I roamed his house. The floors shone, the furniture gleamed. It smelled of apples.
I wandered down the hallway, opening the door to the guest room. A boy’s bedroom with a twin bed and dresser set, both painted light blue, made up the majority of the space. A squared quilt with teddy bears covered the bed. White shelves over the bed held books, two model airplanes, and a ship in a bottle. I walked inside. I went to the shelf and held the ship in my hands. A guitar, face down, lay on the floor in a shaft of sunlight.
It was then I felt another’s presence. I froze, every hair on my body standing erect. Slowly, I turned. I gasped, my scream stuck in my throat. For there, near the bed, stood Finn. He looked the same as the night I said goodbye to him, dressed simply, in shorts and a white T-shirt, his blond hair bleached from the sun.
“Lou. You came back.” His smile was gentle, forgiving.
“Does anyo
ne know you’re here?” I spoke in the slightly higher-pitched tone I used with Clementine’s little friends if they were scared during a sleepover party. “I’m sorry I didn’t come before.”
“It wasn’t time. It’s time now.”
“Can you forgive me?”
“I did a long time ago. I never stopped loving you. I still do. It doesn’t go away no matter where you are. No love is wasted.”
“What about Kevan?”
“You can fall in love with someone in three days, Lou. Let him love you back.”
And then I woke.
CHAPTER 18
THE NEXT MORNING, I took my run, turning back before I reached Finn’s driveway, the memory of the dream still haunting my thoughts. The ground, damp from rain the night before, felt giving against the soles of my shoes, and clean air that comes after a summer rain filled my lungs. Grasses flung drops on my legs as I brushed against them on the path. When I returned home, I showered and drove into town. I wanted to ask Moonstone if she’d heard anything from Robin about the note.
I found Moonstone flipping through a magazine at the desk. She looked up when I came in, smiling and coming out from behind the desk with her arms open as if we were long lost sisters. Whether I welcomed it or not, she grabbed me and held me a little longer than appropriate. I remained stiff in the embrace, waiting for it to be over, like a kid with an exuberant relative. She smelled of patchouli and cheap hairspray, a combination I’d never come across before, which was somewhat surprising, given my mother’s friends.
After the long hug, she finally let go and looked at me with those eyes that looked fifteen seconds away from an acid trip. “You made a decision about something.”
I shrugged. “Not really.”
“You chose trust over skepticism. I can see it clear as the freckles on your nose. This is an important part of your journey. Learning to trust is not something you have done often enough, although you weren’t born that way. Your mother taught you to be distrustful. And then your husband.”
Moonstone continued with her intrusive analysis of my mind and spirit in her airy voice. “It’s so important you’re here. You’ve been given a chance to heal and move forward.” She shook her head wisely. “The universe wants this for you.”
It took everything I had not to roll my eyes like some teenager in poetry class. Regardless, I couldn’t stop from asking. “Wants what?”
“For you to lose the hardness and to soften, to trust, to love again. It’s taken so much energy for you to stay strong. It’ll take so much less to be soft, to allow yourself to once again be vulnerable.”
Two weeks ago I would have said something polite and left, shaking my head once I was in the car and calling my sister so we could laugh together. Instead, I relaxed into the moment. I suspended my belief that I could only trust what I could discern through my five reliable senses. Maybe because Moonstone was like my mother, I became lulled into this sense of intimacy with her that afternoon. We’re drawn to the personalities of those with which we’re familiar, I suppose.
But it was more than that. Something about Moonstone touched me that afternoon. Perhaps it was her interest in me, not as an extension of my children as so many of my relationships with other adults were like in this stage of my life, but just for me. She wanted to know me, whether she was psychic or not. And I was lonely and starved for affection and friendship; like a flower on a hot, dry afternoon, just a small amount of water could revive it. A show of interest from another human being flooded me with affection. Or maybe it was just the Idaho air that made me so unlike my usual safe self. First there was the night I met Kevan, the decision to stay, the involvement in the Lanigan family. And now, I made another choice that only a week before I would not have believed I was capable of doing. I befriended a hippie psychic who reminded me of my mother.
The truth was, Moonstone was a friend here in this crazy world I’d found myself in, and I wanted answers. Moonstone might be an avenue toward discernment. What did I have to lose if I told her about my situation, I reasoned? If she was truly psychic, she might help me figure out what had happened to Finn and Meredith. If she wasn’t, what harm could come of it? Thus, I decided then and there to allay my doubts about her psychic abilities and pretend she might know something, even if it was merely pretending to myself.
“Moonstone, what do you know about dreams?”
“Well, they’re the window to the other world—the other side of the veil, so to speak. Did you dream something important?”
“I don’t know exactly. All I know is that I cannot stop thinking of it.”
She motioned toward the sitting area. “Come along. Tell me all about it with as much detail as you can remember.”
We sat in the two chairs nearest the bay window. Without asking if I wanted any, she poured mugs of coffee for us. Maybe she was a mind reader, because coffee sounded wonderful. “You take cream?”
“Yes, please.”
Apparently knowing whether or not I wanted cream was not in her psychic abilities. I stifled a smile at the thought. And then, out of nowhere, I thought, I’ll tell Kevan later. He’ll think it’s funny. This is how it started, I thought next. This weaving of someone into your life that just days ago you hadn’t known existed. Was this the beginning of love? Was it the beginning of a heartbreak? More than likely it was the latter. I dismissed all these thoughts, though, and focused on Moonstone.
“I should tell you a little background before I tell you the dream,” I said.
“Excellent.”
“I came to Peregrine looking for someone.”
“Yes, I figured that part out already. But he’s passed over to the other side. Isn’t that right?”
“I’m afraid so.” I proceeded to tell her the rest, including the strange coincidence of meeting Kevan the first night I arrived in town. She interrupted me at that point, reaching for the necklace around her neck. It was a small bird on a silver chain. I hadn’t noticed it before.
“Kevan’s your destiny. I feel certain of it.”
I looked at her with what I’m sure was an odd expression and she put up her hands. “I’m sorry. You’re not ready to hear that part yet. I understand.”
I proceeded on with the description of what had happened yesterday. Although I felt nervous to admit that I’d basically broken into my dead lover’s decaying house, I described what I’d seen there, leaving out the part about Rori’s paternity. This part of the story was not mine to tell. I might be distrustful, and as Finn had alluded to in his letter, cautious—but I was not in the business of betrayal. After I was finished, she leaned forward, her eyes narrowed. “Isn’t it odd you smashed the window in?”
“Well, yeah.” I chuckled, although I found this an unusual detail to comment upon, given everything I’d just described. “Don’t you think it’s odder that all his things are still there?”
“Yes, very much so.” She looked up at the ceiling, obviously thinking. But if she discerned the reason Riona would leave his house untouched, she did not share it with me. “Tell me the dream. Close your eyes. It will be easier to see it that way.”
I did so, sparing no detail I could remember. When I finished, I opened my eyes. Moonstone sat motionless, her hands folded in her lap. Her eyes were closed but I could see her eyeballs moving behind the purple-tinted lids. I remained quiet, curious to hear what she had to say. A minute or two later, she opened her eyes and looked directly at me.
“Had you ever seen that bedroom before?”
I shook my head, no.
“It’s very interesting, don’t you think?”
“The bedroom?”
“Yes, given that it was a guest room yesterday. The boy’s bedroom is a hint about something.”
I shivered, my mind spinning. “What could it be?”
Just then we heard the front door open and close. Moonstone looked over at me. “I’m sure it’s someone come to check in. Let’s both think on this. I’ll meditate later and see if anythi
ng else comes up.”
“Sure.”
Her eyebrows went up. “You don’t believe I’m psychic. I understand this, but your doubt doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”
I smiled and allowed her to bring me to my feet with her outstretched hand. Then, I let her hug me. Fortunately, it was a brief hug. I stiffened less this time, though, by sheer will. She must have noticed because she said, “That a girl. No reason to resist love.”
I was halfway back to Kevan’s when I realized I’d forgotten to ask her about Robin and the note.
***
When I arrived back at the house, Kevan came out to meet me in the driveway, with Shakespeare trotting behind him. He pulled me into his arms and kissed the top of my head. Shakespeare brushed up against my leg, his soft fur tickling my calf. “I didn’t know where you were. I was worried,” he said.
Taken aback, I gazed up at him. I hadn’t had anyone worried over me in quite a while. I felt that stinging around the eyes when someone is kind to you. How long had kindness been kept from me, both by others and myself? “I went into town to see if Moonstone had learned anything about the note Robin got.”
“And?”
“I forgot to ask her.” I leaned down, petting Shakespeare. He licked my hand. “Have you eaten? I’m faint from hunger.”
He offered his hand as I stood. In the bright light he looked haggard. Unshaven, his eyes were red with dark shadows underneath. “Minnie left lunch in the refrigerator. I waited for you, actually.”
“Did you sleep at all last night?” I asked him, gently, wanting to put my finger on the soft spot under his eye.
“Not more than an hour or two. Come on inside. I have some things to tell you.”
“Where’s Rori?’
“I don’t know. She left without a word to me. And Mother went to Ciaran’s for lunch. She’ll be back in an hour or so, I’d guess.” He looked at me with a sad smile. “So it’s just us.”
In the kitchen, Kevan pulled out a plate of sandwiches, a bowl of grapes, and a couple of bottled waters from the refrigerator. We sat at the counter, next to one another, our knees almost touching, Shakespeare near my feet. I ate the first half of a turkey and Havarti sandwich quickly but he simply moved his around the plate, nibbling only a few grapes. “I talked to Carol,” he said after a time. “About the computer, that is. She said my mother handled all the details herself after Finn’s death. She doesn’t remember anything about his computer.” He looked at me. “If she took care of everything herself, then Mother must have done something with it.” Kevan brushed his hand through his hair in apparent frustration. “I can’t understand it because she barely knows how to turn a computer on, let alone be savvy enough to think to confiscate it.” He sighed and hunched over his uneaten sandwich. “It seems the more I know, the worse it gets.”
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