Playing the Part

by Kimberly Van Meter

  “It’s a secret. She only showed me because I was sad, too, and she said I would understand,” Carys said.

  “Please show me. I’m sad inside, also,” Lindy said, grasping Carys’s hand. “It would mean a lot to me if you showed me where Lilah keeps her art.”

  “It’s in the atrium, behind the secret door.”

  Secret door? Lindy stared hard, trying to remember. Suddenly a memory unfolded, slowly opening like a door with rusty hinges, and her hand went to her mouth before she broke out into a run for the atrium. She didn’t wait to see if anyone followed. She just had to see what was on those paintings. Whatever had caused Lilah to plunge herself into the ocean was on those paintings—she’d be willing to bet her eyeteeth.

  “Lindy, wait!” Gabe called after her, but she wasn’t about to stop.

  She burst into the atrium, immediately assaulted by the tropical humidity in the garden room that’d been Grams’s favorite place when she wasn’t in the water, and went straight to a place she’d since forgotten about.

  It wasn’t actually a hidden room but the door was hard to see if you didn’t know what you were looking for. She pulled on the wall where the seams met and a section opened up to reveal a small broom closet. But instead of brooms and cleaning supplies, there were rolls upon rolls of completed and hidden-away paintings. Lindy pulled the first one and unraveled it. Nothing but green tropical foliage, which is what she’d expect to see from Lilah. She realized she could be searching for hours. Lindy turned to see Carys and Gabe had caught up. “Carys, do you know which paintings Lilah showed you?”

  “Yeah, they were on the top shelf. I remember that because she had to stand on her tiptoes to reach them.”

  Lindy saw the rolls and jumped to grab them. She unrolled one and secured it on the empty easel.

  She gasped at what she saw.

  Endless darkness against a melancholy sea, a woman walking the beach, her expression bleak and broken, giving the sense that salvation could only be found in the water. It was beautiful and evocative but sadness dripped from the canvas in a wash of blues, black and gray. The woman’s blond hair trailed in an invisible wind, her face half-hidden in shadow.

  “Oh, Lilah...” she said, slowly removing the painting to roll it back up. She unrolled another. It was similar. And yet another. And another. It was painting after painting of sadness and grief; heartache and pain. “How long have you been feeling this way?” she murmured to herself. She tried to recall snippets of conversations she’d shared with Lilah while Lindy had been in L.A. Lilah had seemed more reserved than usual, but Lindy had been too busy with her own life to stop for a minute and question. Now she felt sick to her stomach for missing an obvious marker of her sister’s private pain.

  The last painting chilled her blood.

  It was the same beach, the same midnight sky. But the woman was no longer walking the beach. She was in the water, her blond hair drifting in the caress of a thousand waves, her eyes closed in surrender.

  It was Lilah’s suicide note.

  * * *

  LILAH STARED LISTLESSLY ahead, hating herself. She couldn’t even kill herself properly. Congratulations, Lilah. You have now successfully failed at everything you ever put your mind to.

  Her right hand twitched and she glanced down at the useless appendage. The consequence of being without oxygen was brain damage, so the doctor had told her. She had months of physical therapy to look forward to and even then, she might not return to normal.

  A tear squeezed from the corner of her eye, but she didn’t bother to wipe it away, not even when the officer walked in, looking stern and forbidding. “Ms. Lilah Bell?” At her nod, he sat and continued, “I’m here to take your statement.”

  “What’s to say? I walked into the ocean trying to drown myself. Simple, eloquent, but ultimately a failure. Anything else?”

  The officer stopped writing and peered at her as if trying to determine her mental health with the strength of his stare. She glanced away, suddenly tired. All she wanted to do was sleep. She hadn’t slept in weeks. The fact that she wanted to sleep was something. “Do you take medication for your depression?” he asked.

  “I’m not depressed,” she retorted with a sigh. “I just don’t want to live any longer. Why does there need to be some mental illness to support that explanation?”

  She heard herself and winced at the flippant tone, but she couldn’t muster the energy to care. That seemed to be the problem in a nutshell for everything she was going through. If she wasn’t hurting, she was apathetic. Not that great as an either-or.

  “Ma’am, because only mentally ill people want to die,” he stated simply. He stood and said, “For your protection, you’re being placed on a seventy-two-hour hold for evaluation.”

  “Whatever,” she mumbled. “Go away, please.”

  The officer left, only to be replaced with a woman who had the air of a counselor. Lilah closed her eyes and tried to purposefully shut her out but the woman didn’t take the hint to leave her in peace.

  “Lilah, you can pretend you’re sleeping but I’m going to talk to you about your situation and it’s very important that you listen. I’m Dr. Veronica. I’m a mental health counselor at Dolphin Cove, a facility for those in need of extra help before they can return home.”

  That caught Lilah’s attention. “A facility? You mean a mental institution?”

  Dr. Veronica’s smile was indulgent as she corrected Lilah. “We prefer not to use that term. It has a negative connotation we’d like to avoid.”

  “It’s negative for a reason,” she muttered. “Listen, I understand how my actions may have been alarming, but I’m just really tired and need some sleep. Honest. I’m so tired I can’t think straight anymore. I haven’t slept in... I can’t even remember the last time I got a good night’s rest.”

  “Trouble sleeping?” Dr. Veronica asked, jotting down some notes. “How is your appetite?”

  Lilah sighed. “I’m not a big eater on a normal day,” she said evasively. The truth was, food didn’t much interest her, either. No sleep, very little food and this constant presence in her head that dragged down her every thought. How long had she been suffering from this feeling? She’d lost count of the days, weeks...possibly months. Possibly even before Lora asked her to handle what was happening at Larimar. But it would come and go, not like this pervasive blanket of doom that had been draped around her shoulders that she couldn’t quite shrug off.

  “Is this the first time you’ve had thoughts of harming yourself?” Dr. Veronica asked quietly. Lilah blinked and looked away, which was answer enough. “There’s no shame in admitting you’re depressed. Clinical depression is a real and treatable mood disorder if you seek help. If your sister hadn’t dragged you out of the ocean, you would’ve become a statistic. The best part is, there is help out there. Do your sisters—specifically your twin—know how depressed you’ve been?”

  Lilah shook her head. “I didn’t want her to know.”

  “Why not?”

  Lilah made a sound of self-derision. “My sisters are superstars. My oldest sister, Lora, is a barracuda in the boardroom and is so smart, she had her choice of Harvard or Yale graduate school. My other sister, my twin, is a beautiful actress who makes people forget their name when she walks into the room. I couldn’t tell either of them that I was sad inside. To even say it out loud sounds embarrassingly pathetic.”

  “It’s not pathetic. It’s how you feel and your feelings are valid. But it can change. I promise you that,” Dr. Veronica told her. “But you’re going to need treatment that will include medication and counseling. Most people with clinical depression have hormonal disruptions that make it impossible to recover without outside help. You can’t will away depression.... You can’t wish it way. You have to have help.”

  Lilah groaned and wanted to bury her head i
n the pillow. What would her sisters think of her now? Poor fragile Lilah who couldn’t handle anything and now needed medication so she didn’t go off the deep end again. Hide all the sharp utensils...Lilah’s here! “I wish she would’ve let me drown,” she cried softly, hating herself, hating her life. “Everyone would’ve been better off.”

  “I don’t think your family would agree. They love you very much and just want you to be well. So, let’s work on that. Everything else will fall into place when your outlook has changed.”

  Lila cast the counselor a dark look, hating that self-assured tone she was using, despising that she was so weak that she couldn’t handle her own problems. “I’m fine,” she said. “I made a stupid mistake. It won’t happen again.”

  “Clinically depressed patients who don’t seek treatment are statistically favored to try suicide again. And the second time they’re usually more successful. No one wants to see that happen to someone they love. And you are loved, Lilah. Your family is very supportive of your healing. They’re all behind you, believing in you. All you need is to believe in yourself, and that’s where I can help you.”

  Lilah wanted to cover her face with her hands but her right hand only jerked in uncoordinated movements that shamed her. She turned her head away from the woman, unable to face her or anyone. “Please just go away,” she whispered.

  Lilah thought of Pops and closed her eyes. Lora was a rock; she could handle anything. She couldn’t think of Lindy. A fresh stab of pain rocked her body and she whimpered without realizing it.

  “It’s Lindy, isn’t it?” Dr. Veronica surmised. “Twins have an unusual bond. Some say it even borders on psychic. Somehow your sister knew you were in trouble and found you in the water. Think about that for a second. She risked her own life to save yours. You mean the world to her. Without you, her life would change dramatically.”

  Lilah stared, hating the valid points Dr. Veronica was making. Lindy would never forgive her.... She’d hate her for being so cowardly, for leaving her behind. The tears started fresh and her shoulders shook from the force of her weeping. “I don’t want to hurt her. I just wanted this pain to end. I’m so tired...so tired of it all!” Lilah didn’t have the strength to argue any longer. Her will felt sapped and she simply wanted to disappear. At least if she were ensconced in a facility, she wouldn’t have to face her sisters right away. Maybe that was for the best. She nodded. “Fine. What do I have to do?”

  Dr. Veronica smiled in understanding and handed her the paperwork. “I just need your signature here—” she pointed to a line at the bottom of the paper “—and your initials here. And we’ll take care of the rest.”

  Lilah didn’t hesitate and simply scrawled her name where directed. “Can I sleep now?” she asked, weary to her bones.

  “Absolutely, dear. I will return tomorrow morning to arrange your transfer.”

  Lilah shut out everything and buried herself under the scratchy hospital blanket, desperately hoping the floor would open and swallow her up.

  But she knew that wouldn’t happen.

  That wish had never come true—no matter how many times she’d asked for it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  LORA LAY WITH her head on Heath’s chest, caught between two different emotions.

  “Is this my fault?” She whispered her secret fear to the man who knew her best. “I should’ve seen this coming. I was too harsh on her. I should’ve known not to put that kind of pressure on her with Larimar.”

  Heath tightened his hold around her. “This is not your fault,” he said gravely. “Lilah is suffering from a mental illness. She’s going to get the help she needs and everything will go back to normal.”

  Lora sat up, frowning. “That’s the problem, Heath. What is normal? What is normal for us? I can’t go back to Chicago. My life is here now, but what happens once we get Larimar back on track? Where does that leave me? You have your glass fusion art but I’m useless here. There’s nothing that I can do to put my skill set to work.”

  Heath paused, as if reluctant to broach this subject, but he threw it out there anyway. “We could start a family.”

  Lora did a double take. “A family? We’re not even married yet. I think you’re putting the cart before the horse.”

  “Okay, but saying we got married, then what? Would you be ready to start a family?”

  Lora had to stop and think for a minute. A family? Kids? She’d never considered herself mother material. She’d never pictured herself being the soccer mom and PTA president. But as she gazed at the man she loved more than life itself, she saw that being a father was something he’d always wanted. She could see the desire in his eyes, though he would never pressure her to do anything she didn’t want to do. She was torn between wanting to make him happy and staying true to herself. “I’m not ready right now,” she started, proceeding with caution so as not to seem as if she was shutting and locking the door forever. “But I might be ready someday soon. I just need to get some things figured out first.”

  He smiled with love in his eyes and sealed the deal with a soft kiss on her lips. “When the time comes and it’s right for both of us, you’ll be a great mother.”

  She blinked back tears at the easy confidence in his voice and she wondered aloud, “How do you know?”

  “Because I know you” was his simple answer and Lora felt completely unworthy of his love and support. She closed her eyes and cuddled up to him.

  “I love you, Heath Cannon,” she murmured and closed her eyes. Tomorrow was likely to be hell and she was so thankful she would face it with Heath by her side.

  * * *

  LINDY HAD CRIED herself to sleep in her own bed, but she’d sorely wished she’d had Gabe holding her instead. So when she woke the following morning, she looked as if she’d been dragged behind a bus. She went straight to the kitchen and poured herself a liberal cup of coffee and as she wrapped her fingers around the hot mug, she grimaced when Pops walked in. She didn’t have the strength or stamina to deal with him right now, but she knew she didn’t have the option of just telling him to stop being afflicted with dementia so they could deal with one crisis at a time.

  “Morning, Pops,” Lindy said wearily, sipping at her coffee, willing it to power her sluggish thought process into something more efficient. “What’s on your agenda today?”

  “Going to putter around as usual. Maybe go into town to get some parts for the new mailbox I’m making for your grams for Christmas. Don’t tell her. For one, it’s a secret and two, if I don’t get it finished on time she’ll be none the wiser that I was making one!” He snickered and Lindy offered a wan smile. He didn’t seem to notice it was lacking in the enthusiasm department and she was grateful.

  “Make sure you let someone know if you’re leaving the resort, Pops,” she reminded him. “Maybe Celly can drive you later.”

  “Oh, that’s a good idea. Or maybe Lilah. I think she needs to get out more, see some different scenery than these walls, you know? Lilah is a bird that needs to fly now and then, but I think she’s been cooped up with us too long.”

  “What makes you say that?” she asked.

  “You know she’s an amazing artist, and I’m not talking about that glass fusion art she’s been doing for Heath while he’s laid up. She’s the real deal—like your grams says—she creates from her gut. I was real sad for her when that fancy art school turned her down in Florida. It was their loss, I’m sure.”

  “What school?” she asked, disturbed that she’d been unaware of this aspect of Lilah’s life. “She never mentioned it.”

  “No, she wouldn’t. She’s too damn modest. But she’s something else. Mark my words, someday her work will be worth something.”

  Pops ambled on, completely clueless about the turmoil in their lives, leaving Lindy to wonder over the latest piece of Lilah’s puzzle. There’d
been a time when they’d been joined at the hip. When one sneezed, the other said, “God bless you,” but when Lindy had moved away, the distance had taken its toll. Lindy rubbed at her face, feeling every hour of lost sleep, and wondered if anything might’ve been different if she’d stayed in St. John, too.

  Maybe they would’ve gone to Florida for college like they’d planned or maybe Lilah would’ve gone to study art somewhere while Lindy pursued a degree in...something.

  It was painful to speculate given the circumstances, but Lindy couldn’t help but wonder.

  How could she not feel the burden of guilt? Her twin sister had tried to take her own life and Lindy had been completely oblivious to the fact that she was in trouble.

  Because she’d become too damn wrapped up in the Hollywood crap. God, she was so sick of all the bullshit, which was probably why she’d been on a short fuse with Brandon two days ago. It wasn’t as if she acted like a diva on a regular basis; in fact, in most instances, she was pretty laid-back. But something about that guy just rubbed her the wrong way and then she’d snapped.

  Oh, damn. Maybe she had the same mental disorder as Lilah? She immediately discarded the idea with a deep breath. She was exhausted. And confused. And wishing she had the right to go to Gabe and simply be with him like a normal couple.

  She closed her eyes. A normal couple? What’s that? She didn’t have any experience with that. Her therapist had essentially labeled her a serial dater with an extreme ADD streak. At the time, Lindy had taken offense, but now that she was forced to take a hard look at herself she was sad to admit the expensive crackpot may have been right.

  She needed to see Gabe. Dumping the rest of her coffee down the sink drain, she replaced her rinsed mug and headed for Gabe’s bungalow.

  * * *

  GABE TRIED TO focus on work, having neglected it for the past few days. His voice mail was clogged and his emails were backed up.

  “How’s Lindy doing today?” Carys asked, coming to the counter and sliding onto a barstool. “Have you heard anything about Lilah?”