“I guess so,” Myna said, glancing at the entries. “It doesn’t look good though, does it?”
“No, it doesn’t.” She agreed.
It came as no surprise their mother wasn’t good at running a business or handling money. Linnet couldn’t think of one thing their mother was good at lately. But she had been a good mother once, and she made their father happy—or at least she used to.
Linnet tossed the book aside. Her assignment was going to be harder than she thought, but she’d make it work somehow, someway.
They lay quietly for some time listening to the clacking of the electric heat, the wind, and the geese honking outside their window. They were smack in the middle of winter, and the dam was filled with hundreds of the snow geese, their familiar sounds making for a good night’s sleep.
There was a moment when everything fell silent, and Linnet heard their mother talking.
“Who’s Mom talking to?” she asked.
Myna turned to her side. “Maybe Pop’s home.”
Linnet stood and looked out the window to the guesthouse. “The light is still on in the study.” She crossed the room and opened their bedroom door.
Myna pulled herself up. “Where are you going?”
Linnet crept down the hall.
Her sister followed. “What are you doing?”
“Shh,” she said.
Their mother’s voice was low and muffled.
“She’s on the phone,” Linnet said, and snuck farther down the hall toward the steps and kitchen.
Myna trailed her, tugging on the back of Linnet’s sweatshirt. “Who could she be talking to this late at night?” she whispered.
“Exactly,” Linnet whispered back, and tiptoed to where the cordless phone sat in its cradle on the kitchen countertop. She reached for it.
“You can’t be serious,” Myna said. “She’ll hear you pick up.”
“I don’t care.” Linnet suspected who her mother might be talking to. She eased the phone out of the stand and heard the click as she picked up. A man’s deep voice purred in her ear.
The sisters put their heads together, cradling the phone between them, and listened.
“You’re serious,” their mother said.
“Of course I’m serious,” he said. “Run away with me.”
“But—” their mother said.
“There are no buts. It’s either yes or no. Either we do this or we continue to torture ourselves until the next time we can be together.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“It is simple. I love you. You love me. It’s not hard.”
Linnet and Myna exchanged a nervous glance.
He continued. “What do you say?”
“And we’re just going to leave everything behind?”
“Yes,” he said. “Everything and everyone.” He paused. “Can you do that?”
Linnet pulled the phone away from Myna. Whatever her mother said next, Linnet didn’t want Myna to hear. She wanted to protect her younger sister from the hurt her mother was constantly inflicting upon them.
“What are you doing?” Myna hissed, and grabbed for the phone.
Linnet clutched it firmly.
“And you think leaving will help? It will make me better?” their mother asked. Was she crying? She sounded as though she were crying, but were they tears of joy or sorrow?
“Just give me a chance, and I promise I’ll make you happy.”
There was some hesitation on their mother’s part. Myna reached for the phone again, and Linnet pulled away from her.
“Okay,” their mother said, as though she was trying to convince him, or maybe she was trying to convince herself.
“You’ll do it? You’ll leave with me?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
Linnet lowered the phone from her ear, catching him say he’d need time to tie up some loose ends. She set the phone back in the stand.
Myna stomped her foot. “Well?” she asked. “What did she say?” Her chest rose up and down. “Is she leaving us?” She stomped her foot again. “Is she? Is she running away with him?”
Linnet couldn’t answer right away. She didn’t want to tell her sister the awful truth, but she couldn’t lie to her either. “We might have some time before she goes.”
“So she’s leaving?” Myna asked.
Linnet watched Myna’s face contort in pain and confusion, and then she saw in her sister’s eyes a flicker of hope.
“Maybe she’ll change her mind,” Myna said.
“Maybe,” Linnet said, but she didn’t believe it.
“Why is she doing this?” Myna asked. “Is she that unhappy here? With us? With Pop?”
“I don’t know,” she said, and pulled her sister to her. “I really don’t know.” She held her close, but the strength in Linnet’s arms couldn’t reach the weakness in her knees, and they sank to the floor, clinging to each other.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Myna had sent a text to Ben asking him to Skype with her at 10 P.M. She sat on the bed with her laptop opened in front of her, not even realizing she’d been holding her breath, fearing he’d stand her up. But then there he was, his face filling the box on her screen. She exhaled a steady sigh of relief.
“Hey you,” he said. There was a lag time and his movements were slow and jerky, but he was there, smiling, filling her heart with an ache so strong she nearly put her hand through the screen, wanting to reach in and pull him to her.
“Hey.” It was all she said in return, wishing she could tell him how much she missed him, loved him, but she couldn’t. She hadn’t changed her position on marriage, and yet she wasn’t willing to give him up over their opposing views on the subject.
“How are you holding up?” he asked. “According to the news, it’s the end of the world in your neck of the woods.”
“So they say.” She laughed uneasily. “Things are a little crazy here, but I’m certain there’s a rational explanation for all of it.”
“You never told me what your dad says about all of this. What does he think happened?”
“I think he has a theory,” she said. She didn’t mention the homicide investigation surrounding Professor Coyle’s death. The idea that Pop had anything to do with it seemed outrageous, ridiculously so. Besides, it hadn’t made the national news. Maybe it would all be straightened out by the time the story broke. Instead, she said what she could about her father. “He’s having a hard time remembering.”
“I’m sorry. That must be hard.” His face was tanned, darker than the last time she’d seen him only a few short days ago.
“I miss you,” she said.
He nodded and looked away from the screen, unwilling to meet her eyes even through the computer. He was hurting. She watched his Adam’s apple rise and fall as he swallowed. I take it back, she wanted to say. I’ll marry you if that’s what you want. Whatever you want is fine with me. But she couldn’t. Her throat started to close just thinking the words. She felt as trapped as a bird in a cage. I can’t do this. I can’t give you what you want. I wish I could.
Instead, she found herself asking about his chartered trips, the fish they’d caught, and his schedule for the week. He’d added a few more charters now that she wouldn’t be around. Originally, he’d taken a couple of days off to be with her during her spring break.
He was breaking up. She knew from Skyping with Hank they’d only have a few more minutes before the mountains intruded, inserting their bulk where it wasn’t welcome, and ended their time together.
“How are things with your sister?” he asked, knowing her relationship with Linnet was complicated. The one time he’d asked her why, what had happened between them, she’d said it had been many little things, unwilling to share the one big ugly truth.
“It’s as difficult as ever. There’s just no talking to her sometimes,” she said to him now, thinking about Linnet’s refusal to discuss Jake and the possibility the ring was much more than a mere coincidence. And yet
she’d had glimpses of how things used to be between them, flashes of the sisterhood she longed to reclaim. But the wall between them seemed as high as the tallest trees. If only she could change the past, the moment that severed them in two. But she couldn’t say all of this to Ben. She’d promised Linnet she’d never talk about it with anyone, ever. And no matter what transpired between them, she’d never break their pact.
“Keep in touch,” he said through the flickering, and then his face was nothing more than a frozen image on her screen.
“You can count on it,” she whispered.
* * *
Myna put her laptop aside and got up to wash her face and brush her teeth in the bathroom down the hall, the same bathroom shared by the guests in the rooms next to hers. But there weren’t any guests since the young couple had checked out earlier that day.
She looked out the open window, the chilly night air sending goose bumps up and down her arms. She saw movement, a shadow of a person in the yard. She slipped behind the curtain and peeked out. Whoever it was moved near the storage shed not far from the guesthouse.
Myna reached for her robe to cover the pajama top and bottoms she wore when she traveled. When she was home with Ben, she’d grown accustomed to sleeping naked. She grabbed her cell phone and stuffed it in her pocket. She felt safer having it with her, although it wouldn’t be much help if she couldn’t get a signal.
She made her way to the kitchen. The house was quiet and dark. Everyone had gone to bed. She had a fleeting thought about the young professor and an unknown person lurking in the yard. Oh please, Pop, don’t let it be you. She’d heard about family members wandering away with their memories, found in places they shouldn’t be, lost and confused.
Maybe she should wake Linnet and Ian, flood the property with spotlights, and catch whoever it was. It was exactly what she should do, but she didn’t. If it was Pop shuffling around out there, she’d help him back to bed and never speak of it. She didn’t want to upset her sister or put her under any more stress if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. She didn’t want to give the police another reason to suspect Pop had anything to do with the professor’s death.
She slipped out the side door and made her way under the cherry blossom tree in the backyard. A guy was pulling a ladder from the shed.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked, figuring it had to be Al. Ian had told her about the groundskeeper Linnet had hired a few years back, the same guy Ian had laughed about when he’d said he’d suspected Al had a crush on his wife.
Al jumped and clutched his chest. “Linnet, is that you?” he asked. “Jesus Christ, you scared me.”
“It’s Myna. Her sister.”
“Oh, right. Linnet said you two looked alike.” He pulled off one of the heavy gloves he was wearing and stuck his hand out for her to shake. “I’m Al.”
She pulled her robe tight, clutching the collar by her neck. He was handsome in a rugged outdoorsmanlike way.
“The groundskeeper,” he added, and put his work glove back on.
“What are you doing here this late at night?”
He continued pulling and tugging at the ladder. “Linnet mentioned something about having some of the trees trimmed.”
“You can’t possibly be thinking about trimming trees in the dark.”
“No,” he said. “But I noticed a beehive in one of the maples along the path here at the edge of the yard. It’s best to knock it down at night when the bees aren’t as active.” He picked up the ladder and maneuvered around her. She smelled a strong odor of alcohol.
“Are you sure you should be doing that now?”
He ignored her and carried the ladder across the yard to the maple tree with the hive. He set it against the trunk and stumbled.
“Have you been drinking?” she asked.
“I had a few,” he said, and looked around.
“I don’t think you should be climbing a ladder in your condition.”
“I’m fine.” He shook the ladder to make sure it was secure. He looked up at the tree and then once over his shoulder.
“Do you want me to hold that for you?”
“No,” he said. “I’m good.”
She took a step back.
“You should go back inside now,” he said. “I’m not sure how many bees are going to fly out of this thing, and I don’t imagine they’re going to be happy.”
He didn’t have to ask her twice.
* * *
Myna finished getting ready for bed in the hall bathroom and returned to her room. She put her toothbrush and toothpaste back inside the Dopp kit, wondering if she should close her window in case angry bees were searching for someone to blame for the destruction of their home. She wasn’t allergic, so she decided she’d take her chances. She pushed the curtains aside and peered out at the backyard. The mountain air was as cool and soothing as she’d remembered it to be. When she was young, she and Linnet had peeked out every window in the house at one time or another. They’d often played imaginary games in their mother’s B&B, Myna being the guest making unrealistic demands while Linnet tried to accommodate every unreasonable request. When Linnet had had enough, she’d tell Myna where to go, and the two would fall to the floor in a fit of giggles.
Myna searched for Al down by the path, trying to see in the dark under a moonlit sky. The shadows from the branches made it darn near impossible. But she could see the ladder propped against the shed. She took it as a sign he hadn’t fallen and had finished the job. She hoped that he hadn’t decided to drive in his condition and that he’d walked home. And now that she thought about it, he must’ve done just that since she’d never heard a car pull in or out of the driveway.
She crawled into bed, but she wasn’t tired. Reaching for her laptop, she powered it on. She checked her e-mail, answered a couple questions from students about an upcoming assignment, responded a resounding no to a faculty member’s bridal shower invitation—someone on the staff she barely knew and who’d probably invited her out of courtesy. Clearing out her in-box distracted her for a few minutes.
She didn’t want to think about Jake and the ring. She wanted to do what Linnet had asked and forget about it. But it was no use, not if she planned on getting any sleep. She couldn’t push the thoughts away. The guilt she carried would never go away no matter how hard she’d tried or how fast she’d run. It had followed her everywhere—to every city, every job, every relationship, every bed in which she’d slept. She couldn’t outrun what was inside her. It was there, always, waiting for her to give it shape and form.
She stared at the computer screen. The Internet connection wavered.
Do you think he’s good-looking? Linnet had asked. Is he the next guy on your list of men? Is that why you came running home, because you broke up with Ben?
Now, hours later and too late to react to her sister’s accusations, she found herself angry. The way Linnet had read her as though she’d slipped inside her mind, glided along the cracks inside her heart, the way she’d fully understood her as only a sister could, was simultaneously brilliant and infuriating.
What if there were a way, Linny, to make up for what we’d done?
She typed Jake’s name into the search engine, but hesitated before hitting enter.
It was a risk, and she had no way of knowing how she’d feel once she learned the truth, no way of knowing what the outcome would be, but she had to take some responsibility for her actions even if Linnet never would.
Her finger hovered over the key, thinking she wouldn’t push it after all, but then she did, and waited for the search engine to do its thing, for the page to load.
Maybe for once her anger was right on time.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Linnet rested her forehead against the cabinet. “I understand,” she said. “Thank you for calling.” She hung up the phone and set it on the countertop.
“Who was that, Mom?” Hank asked. He’d finished eating the eggs and buttered toast she’d made him for br
eakfast. Pop sat next to him crunching a piece of crispy bacon.
She was about to say it was no one important, but she’d hated how her mother had kept the B&B’s business private. Hank had grown up sharing his home with strangers, and she was aware of the sacrifices he’d had to make to accommodate their family business. No sleepovers or friends when the B&B had paying guests, no hanging out in the living room to watch television when visitors were reading, relaxing, using the space. He had done this without complaint most of the time. The PlayStation in his bedroom had helped, but she understood it hadn’t been ideal.
“It was another cancelation,” she said to him. It was the second cancelation she’d taken this morning. One more and The Snow Goose would be empty next weekend, too.
“Oh.” He picked up his plate and set it in the sink. “That’s bad.”
“It’s not good, but things will turn around. I bet in another week or two the world will forget all about our little town. The snow geese will be back on the dam, and they’ll bring the tourists here like they’ve always done.”
She looked to Pop for confirmation, but he didn’t say a word. Some mornings he was so quiet she would almost forget he was there. Almost.
Ian walked into the kitchen dressed for work and carrying his briefcase. “We have to go, kiddo.” He looked at Linnet. “Everything okay?”
“Mom had another cancelation,” Hank said as he slipped on his backpack.
She handed Hank his lunch. “It’s going to be okay.” She hadn’t told him the worst of it. Losing guests didn’t compare to the kind of trouble his grandfather was involved in. “Try and have a good day,” she said to him.
“Take your own advice,” Ian said, and winked at her, waving to Pop as he and Hank headed out the door.
“Would you like more bacon?” she asked him once Ian and Hank had gone.
He shook his head, taking a bite of toast. “You should listen to your husband,” he said. “Your mother had guests cancel. She had empty beds, but she managed to keep it going. So can you.”
She ran her hands over the top of her head, smoothing her straight hair back. Oh, the things her father hadn’t known about her mother, the things he’d refused to acknowledge if he had. “You’re right, Pop,” she said. “Mom kept it going, all right.”
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