by Beck, Jamie
That did it. The tears spilled onto my cheeks, and I was even willing to thank Nancy Thompson if I ever saw her again.
“On one condition.” My voice trembled like the rest of my body.
“What’s that?”
I sniffled while swiping my cheek and smiling. “We seal the deal with ice cream.”
He stared at me, heat in his eyes, which shot me off on another roller-coaster ride. “I’d rather seal it with a kiss.”
“Oh!” I nearly fell off the couch. “Not many things rank higher than ice cream, but I’m thinking that might.”
“You set a high bar.”
“I try!” Nervous laughter didn’t keep my mouth from going dry. It seemed impossible that any kiss could live up to my expectations.
Then Eli gently brushed his fingers through my hair before trailing his thumb along my jaw and cupping my face.
I set my hand on his thigh, closing my eyes because I could barely breathe beneath the intensity of the look in his. When his lips brushed mine, my body got so hot my bones seemed to melt. He swept his tongue to seductively dance with mine, slowly at first, then building with confidence and desire. My heart surged with yearning so strong I almost pushed him back against the cushions.
He eased away, smiling at me, scanning my entire face, perhaps seeking reassurance that it had been as good as we’d both hoped it would be.
I wrapped my hands around his neck, feeling simultaneously eager yet shy. “I may never need Dream Cream again.”
He laughed, and we were about to resume the kissing when my phone rang. Amanda’s ringtone. Oh God! This zenith of happiness had made me forget all about my plan to be home to greet her.
“That’s my sister. She went to see her husband in jail today, so I should take it.”
“Absolutely.” He sat back while I dug my phone out of my pocket.
“Hey, how’d it go?” My body now tingled for less pleasant reasons.
“Not exactly as expected. When will you be home?” Her cool voice quavered.
My stomach dropped. “I can be there in ten minutes.”
“Good. I’ll be waiting.” The clipped tone and the fact that she hung up without her usual pleasantries put me on high alert. What the hell had Lyle done now? I dug my hand into my hair, staring into space.
“I’m sorry, Eli. I need to go. Something must’ve happened . . .” I looked at him. “Really, though, you have no idea how sorry I am to leave.”
“I have some idea.” He smiled. “Go be there for your sister. I’m not going anywhere.”
After a hug and another quick kiss, I said, “I’ll call you later.”
“Good luck.” He walked me to the door and waited until I pedaled off before closing it.
For the mile-or-so ride home, my heart ping-ponged from ecstasy to concern. I parked my bike in the garage and went in through the kitchen. “Hello?”
“In here,” Amanda called.
I found her at the dining table, hands clasped on the tabletop, posture and expression stiff as our mom’s starched shirts.
“Oh God, you look white. Is Lyle fighting you about Willa, or refusing to sell the house?” I collapsed onto a chair in disbelief.
“I don’t know. I’ve given up predicting what he will do, or expecting him—or anyone—to be honest with me or care about my feelings.” The pointed words seemed directed at me.
Her hard edge made me uneasy. “Try to relax. He put up a brave front to knock you down a peg or two, but Lyle can’t handle jail well. If his lawyer tells him it should help reduce his sentence, he’ll capitulate. Willa will be safe. We’ll protect her.”
“Will you?” Amanda’s cold eyes burned through me. “Like you protected me?”
Sarcasm? My stomach started sinking to my toes. Her anger confused me after the way I’d helped her.
She glowered at me with open disdain, much the way Lyle had always glared at me when no one else was looking. What did he say to turn her against me . . .
Oh! Oh no.
My heart pounded in my ears as the past came roaring back.
Praying I was wrong, I joked, “Let’s hope sting operations don’t become a new family tradition.”
Amanda shook her head. “Stop, Erin. I know that you’ve been lying to me for months. Lyle told me about the Kentwood Inn.”
“Oh.” Damn it! My pores sweated like the plumbing pipes at my old apartment. All week I’d been so focused on how Lyle would attack Amanda I’d never considered that he would also pay me back. He’d done it, all right. In the worst way possible.
Although frantic to shore up our fragile bond, I froze, unable to think of how to explain myself.
“That’s all you have to say?” My sister’s heartsick expression made my insides blister. “You knew for months that Lyle was running around behind my back yet never warned me. Exactly how often did you snicker about that with Lexi?”
“It wasn’t like that . . .” My chest ached at the possibility of us returning to the way things used to be—polite at best, snarky at worst.
“No? You didn’t get any thrill from making a fool out of me? Didn’t secretly love the fact that my life wasn’t at all what I thought it was? Didn’t go to bed heady with this knowledge, like a spectator, eagerly waiting for the bottom to drop out of my life?” Her eyes narrowed, framing a look of disgust. Those ugly accusations slayed, especially because I couldn’t claim none were even the faintest bit true. “And then to rush in like some great savior at the end, when in fact none of it would’ve happened if you had even once told me what you saw.”
I dropped my chin, on the verge of crying. “I’m sorry. But I knew you wouldn’t have believed me.”
“So it’s my fault?” she asked, her blue eyes full of betrayal.
“No, that’s not what I mean. But think about it, Amanda.” I gripped the edge of the dining table. “How many times did you dismiss anything I said about Lyle’s behavior? Every single time.” I slapped the tabletop for emphasis on each of those three words. “It’s not like I caught them in bed or even kissing. They were coming out of the inn in the early afternoon, claiming to have finished a business lunch, which was plausible. Despite my suspicions, I had no proof. And you two had recently bought your house and announced your pregnancy, so I wondered if my dislike for Lyle had made me paranoid. Plus we were still mourning Dad’s death. You know none of us were back on track yet. I worried that an unsubstantiated accusation would make you so angry you’d totally cut me out.”
No one could blame her for her doubt, but seeing it made me shrink inside. I was shaky and desperate at once.
“I might believe you if you’d at least mentioned it once the truth came out. All these weeks—all my tears—yet you never said a word.” Her lip trembled, but she fought back her own tears. She smoothed her palms across the tabletop, regaining her composure. “It was bad enough to be humiliated by my husband, but to learn that you’ve been holding on to this, leaving me unarmed so Lyle could use it against me . . . I feel doubly foolish for believing we’d finally gotten close.”
“I swear to God I would never consciously withhold anything out of spite or jealousy. When you told me about Lyle, I almost said something but figured Mom would blame me for everything instead of Lyle. It seemed pointless to upset everyone more at a time when we needed to rely on each other.” My logic didn’t seem to budge my sister even an inch. Remorse bloomed like algae, choking me. “Wasn’t it kinder to keep quiet once the truth came out? That was my only intent. I love you . . . I’d never intentionally hurt you.”
Amanda stared over my shoulder, through the window. She avoided eye contact even as she rose from the table, spine straight but shoulders soft. Defeated and remote. “All I know is that I can’t count on anyone to be unconditionally honest and on my side. I’ve never felt more alone in my life, despite everyone in town gawking and checking in on ‘poor Amanda Foster.’ Maybe Mom’s got the right idea. There’s nothing keeping me in Potomac Point now. It’d be eas
ier to live and work in a school district outside the reach of the stain of Lyle’s name and Mom’s suffocating anger. I could move nearer to Kevin and get Marcy’s help with Willa.”
Six months ago, those words wouldn’t have taken a shovel to my chest and carved out half of me. “Amanda, wait. Where are you going?”
“For a walk. I need to think.” She waddled across the living room and through the front door, closing it quietly behind her with a finality that stole my breath.
My screwup had pushed my mother, sister, and me as far apart as we’d ever been, and I had no idea how to—or if I could—fix it. I would’ve dissolved into a puddle, but there wasn’t time.
I sat at the table with my eyes closed, begging my dad for some sign. A direction. Advice. Nothing happened. No ray of light, no whispers, no sign that he was there unless he remained silent to force me to move on without him.
No matter what came next, we could not let Amanda believe she was on her own. With my dad unavailable to me, I’d have to rely on my mother. I pulled Mo onto my lap to cuddle while I called her.
“Hello?”
“Mom, it’s me. I know you’re still ticked off at us for involving the authorities, but you need to come home today.”
“Is something wrong with the baby?” Her distress rang out.
“No!” Knock on wood. That was about the only thing that hadn’t gone wrong in the past hour. “But Amanda’s talking about moving out of town after Willa’s born.”
“Has something else happened?” Her tone hardened.
“She saw Lyle today . . .” Closing my eyes to brace for her meltdown, I explained how he’d used what had happened in February to hurt Amanda. Afterward, I held the phone away from my ear, expecting a major tongue-lashing the likes of which used to send me to sulk on our roof. The ensuing silence was worse. “Mom?”
“I’m here.” Instead of fury, I heard resignation and fatigue.
Unaccustomed to skirting the blame, I remained poised in self-defense mode. “I’m sorry. I know you prefer to steer clear of all this, but I’m really worried about Amanda.”
“Did she pack a bag?”
“Not yet.”
“Good. And how are you holding up?”
“Me?” What had Aunt Dodo done with my mother?
“Yes. Obviously you’ve been holding this in for weeks, probably kicking yourself. That’s a lot to handle.”
When I released a pent-up sigh, Mo licked me. “You’re not mad at me?”
“Mad?” She huffed. “You think your little role in all this makes you special? Lyle took us all for a ride, and we all fell for it. I can’t take enough showers to come clean, but it’s no more your fault than any of ours.”
I wished I owned stock in Kleenex for the amount of tissues I’d used up today. “I appreciate that, Mom . . . so what are we going to do about Amanda?”
She blew out a breath. “I know how she feels—the need to escape—but running here didn’t solve anything for me.” She went quiet. Then, in a surprise turn of events, she said, “I’ll be home tonight.”
“Really?”
“Naturally, Erin. When my children need me, I’ll always be there. And we have your father’s memorial brunch.”
“Thank you.” It occurred to me that I didn’t say those words often enough. “I’m glad we’ll all be together for that.”
“Yes. All but William.” Then she inhaled sharply. “I just had a brilliant idea. I’m going to beg Nancy for an emergency session. William might finally show up if we’re gathered together in his honor.”
It’d been a year, but sitting in our living room surrounded by somber faces and silence made it feel like Dad’s funeral all over again. That remained the worst day of my life.
I remembered how Max wouldn’t stop shadowing me, as if he’d expected me to shatter into a thousand pieces if left alone. Inside, I’d already broken, so there was nothing he could’ve done to stop it. I’d stood in the corner, wishing I didn’t have to listen to our neighbors sharing personal stories about my dad. It hurt to hear them laugh about this time or that, while it was all I could do not to drop to the floor and wail. The absence of music had thrown me, too. My dad had always had a record playing, but I couldn’t bear to hear music that day, so we’d left the turntable untouched.
Kevin had leaned against the wall, keeping little Billy on his hip, as if acutely aware of the fleeting gift fatherhood could be. I couldn’t believe my mom slinked away from the company and put herself to bed. If I’d tried that, she’d never let me hear the end of it.
My stomach had twisted while I watched Lyle speak to our company as if he’d been part of the family for decades. But even that hadn’t infuriated me as much as watching Amanda break into hostess mode—refreshing pitchers of iced tea and replenishing platters of food. I couldn’t understand why she gave a shit about what the community thought of the wake when we’d just watched our father go into the ground.
It’d taken me all year to realize that busywork helped my sister process her feelings. Like now, she was fluffing the pillows and neatening the magazines on the coffee table.
She hadn’t said ten words to me since our argument. In fact, she’d rarely made eye contact. Kevin had come alone today because Billy had a fever and an ear infection, so he kept glancing at his watch. Even Mo hid, curled up by the potted philodendron in the corner.
Mom had drawn the curtains “to keep the neighbors out of our business.” The effect? Thin slants of sunlight mixed with dim lamplight gave the room a gloomy aura. Perhaps it was the perfect setting for the occasion and Nancy’s hocus-pocus.
“Should I get the memory jar? We might have time to read some before Nancy arrives.” I’d barely finished my sentence when Amanda answered.
“I’m not in the mood for that today.” She looked at Kevin instead of me.
“But that was the plan—” I started.
“No, that was your wish, not ‘the’ plan. I’m not interested in reading the notes I put in there this winter when, unlike you, I was ignorant of the truth. Sorry to rob you of whatever jollies you’d get in reliving how foolish I was.”
“Amanda, you know that’s not . . .” But before I finished my thought, she turned away.
Mom tapped my shoulder. “Let’s put off the jar. By December we might all be in a better place to keep the tradition going.”
“Agreed,” Kevin said, offering Amanda a shoulder squeeze while shooting me a conciliatory smile. Our whole lives, he’d been the Switzerland in any battle between Amanda and me. He then said to her, “I thought you’d be in a better mood after learning that Lyle signed all the papers.”
It bummed me out that we couldn’t celebrate that together. “That’s a win to put in the jar.”
My mother shook her head at me. It took me a second to grasp that even though Lyle’s cooperation had definitely been the best possible outcome, the situation still sucked for my sister. “Sorry,” I mumbled.
I shoved two Ritz crackers in my mouth, followed by a cheddar cheese cube.
“There she is!” Mom, who’d been peeking through the drapes, exclaimed.
I’d been going back and forth about Nancy since the thing with Eli and Karen. On one hand, Eli’d encouraged me to keep an open mind, convinced that Karen had been in the room with us that day. But it would take more for me to believe my dad could pass messages through Nancy as if she were a supernatural mailbox. With our family’s personal business being publicized recently, the woman had easy access to a trove of details she could spin into so-called messages from beyond.
I’d yet to master Kev’s ability to hide his skepticism, but in my desperation to bring the family together for Amanda’s sake, I would go through this charade one last time.
Mom clapped her hands together and raced to the door, opening it before Nancy rang the bell. “Welcome back. All the kids are here today, so surely William won’t ignore us.”
Nancy smiled. “Don’t think of it as being ignored. We don’t
know how or why some spirits can come through and others can’t. He may be trying.”
Nice dodge, Nancy, I thought, then winced because that had hardly been open-minded.
“Well, he’d better try harder. We need him more than ever.” Mom nodded sharply. “I made a pot of coffee.”
“None for me, thanks.” Nancy hung her purse on the coatrack in the corner and introduced herself to Kevin and Amanda.
Nancy and I greeted each other with the polite nod of civil foes. “For those who haven’t been through this, all I ask is that you keep an open mind and heart. Try not to say anything unless I ask, and then only yes/no answers, please.”
“Okay. Let’s get started.” Kevin pulled out a seat for Amanda and then sat beside her.
Nancy sat next to him and Mom flanked Amanda’s other side, forcing me to sit beside Nancy.
Amanda glanced at everyone, but when she caught my eye, she looked away.
“As your mother knows, I encourage everyone to say a silent prayer for your intention today and, if it helps, to close your eyes so your other senses awaken.” Nancy placed her hands on the table. “Think about a specific memory or let your feelings about your father flow through you. As I get messages, I’ll relay them. Many may have nothing to do with him. I can’t control who comes to me, but I hope we hear from William.”
Kevin shot me a look that mirrored the incredulity I felt, to which I responded with a subtle shrug.
Surrendering to the inevitable, I relaxed my shoulders and closed my eyes. I don’t know how many minutes passed before Nancy spoke.
“I’m getting something about red shoes. Do red shoes mean anything to anyone?” Nancy’s eyes remained closed.
“I have red shoes,” my mother said. “And Erin has those beat-up red sneakers she always wears.”
Most women probably owned one pair of red shoes, so once again Nancy’s “gift” underwhelmed. What also didn’t shock me was my mom’s inability to stick to yes and no answers.
