by Laura Howard
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Pronunciation Guide
Acknowledgments
About the Author
For Mom,
for never telling me I couldn't.
I miss you every minute.
I caught a glimpse of my mother staring out the den window. She held her violin loosely under her chin, and the bow dangled from her fingertips. Her jaw was slack, her eyes locked on something in the trees beyond me. I knew that haunted expression. I froze.
I swallowed hard as her eyes shifted to me. The violin fell from her chin, and I could see her bottom lip trembling.
I should have been used to that reaction from her when she saw me during an episode. It happened every time. But I wasn’t.
I flew into the house as fast as my feet would carry me. The screen door crashed behind me as I came to a halt outside the den. My mother clutched fistfuls of her blonde hair, garbled words spilling from her lips.
“I have to. I have to go out there,” she said. “He’s waiting for me.”
She stood in the semi-darkness, mumbling, the only other sound the hum of the ceiling fan. I clung to the doorjamb as I watched my grandmother approach carefully. She placed her hands on my mother’s shoulders, and on contact my mother’s body stopped quaking. Gram crooned, rocking her back and forth, as she pulled her into her arms and led her away from the window.
My stomach tightened, and I backed away to leave them alone. If she saw me again, who knew what would happen.
I cringed as the floor creaked beneath me, and she jerked her head in my direction. Her eyes widened when she saw me, and the shaking began again. Breaking away from my grandmother, she stumbled backward toward the window. She raked her fingers down her face and hair as she moaned. “Liam…” Tears streamed down her cheeks, causing thick strands of hair to stick to her face.
I entered the room slowly, desperate not to step on another squeaky floorboard. Her green eyes burned into mine, and I locked my eyes on hers. No matter how many times she fought my attempts to soothe her, I had to keep trying. She was my mom.
I reached for her shoulders. “Mom,” I whispered. “It’s just me.”
She flinched. I knew she recognized me. I’d never met my father, but under my mattress I hid the only scrap I could find with his image on it. The picture—a strip of them actually—was taken before I was born in a photo booth in Ireland. I looked just like him. Considering how she often spoke his name when she was like this, my gut told me that she saw my father in me.
She writhed as I touched her and clawed at my hands. Gurgling sounds came from somewhere deep in her throat, but I knew she was still saying my father’s name. I placed my hands gently over hers, my gaze steady, as though approaching a wounded animal. I took deep, soothing breaths the way Gram had taught me.
I could feel the weight of Gram’s stare, watching as I got closer than ever to my mother actually letting me comfort her. I focused on my mom, ignoring the panic rising in my chest.
“Shh..you’re okay,” I said. “You’re okay.” I repeated it over and over, softly, until her breathing became even, more normal. It felt like hours, but the tension in her fingers loosened eventually as she stopped trying to resist me.
My grandmother walked out of the room as I continued to make shushing sounds, the panic in my mother’s eyes fading. I couldn’t see it, but I knew Gram was probably smiling, at least a little.
I exhaled and led my mother to the couch. The same woman who had just been in the throes of a schizophrenic episode was now completely unresponsive as she sat.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Gram standing just outside the doorway. I released my mother’s hands—she’d stay that way for a while, and there was nothing any of us could do—and got up to follow Gram down the hallway to the kitchen. The air wafted toward me as she moved, smelling like oranges and cloves—familiar and comforting.
I opened the refrigerator, snagged a bottle of water, and slouched down at the kitchen table. I tried to smile as I unscrewed the cap, but inside I was struggling with the gratification of being able to bring my mother down from her episode versus the pang of guilt for being the one who caused her condition in the first place. Before I was born, she’d been a bright, happy college student. Her spiral into schizophrenia didn’t start until I showed up.
She had met my father during her last year of college. She had traveled to Ireland for her final semester to study music at Trinity College in Dublin. She’d been fine when she left, I’m told, but when she came back she was heartbroken and pregnant. She’d never been the same since.
“Have you eaten, honey?” Gram asked, nailing me in place with her eyes.
I flipped the bottle cap in my fingers. “No, but I’m fine.”
“Oh no, you don’t. We had a nice steak for supper, cooked just the way you like. You’ll have some, won’t you?”
I had to laugh. With Gram there was no choice, even if she asked. I sat down at the table while she whirled around the kitchen. In minutes I had a steak dinner in front of me, complete with steaming mashed potatoes and green beans.
“You spoil me, you know,” I said between bites. “I’m never going to be able to take care of myself if you keep this up.”
Gram smiled at me. “You’ll have plenty of time to take care of yourself. Let me spoil you while I still can.”
I swallowed down the guilt, knowing she didn’t see raising me—and Mom—for the past almost twenty-two years as the burden it felt like to me.
As I ate, my mother walked into the kitchen. She sat down at the table quietly without looking at either of us.
“Hi, Mom…” I spoke as softly as I could, not wanting to alarm her.
“Hello.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper. She chewed on her fingernail and stared absently out the window. Even with the hair framing her face in knots, my mother looked lovely. Her eyes sage green, her skin flawless. She was forty-three but didn’t look a day over thirty.
“That was a beautiful tune you played earlier, Beth,” Gram said as she took my mother’s hands in her own. “I could practically smell the breeze blowing in off the Irish sea.”
“Mm hmm,” my mother answered, mostly detached, but a tiny smile lifted the corner of her mouth.
My cell phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out quickly before it startled my mom. I opened it to find a message from my cousin, Nicole:
I need ice cream tonight
I gave a small laugh as I put my phone back into my pocket. I’d worked all afternoon at my grandfather’s hardware store, but it was Friday night—I should’ve known I wouldn’t be able to just relax with a good book. Nicole was twenty, only a year younger than me, and we were as close as sisters. But our ideas of a perfect Friday night couldn’t be more different. If only we didn’t live next door to each other maybe I could get out of this.
I glanced out the window to Nicole’s driveway. When I’d gotten home, it had been filled with cars—her friends had been taking over the place. But now I was grateful to only see her little Jetta. Hanging out with Nicole I guess I could handle.
Her friends were a different story. Especially when Ethan Magliaro was around.
Nicole and I sat down at a table on the patio with two of the biggest sundaes on the menu at DeeDee’s. The sun was hanging low in the evening sky,
and the heat from earlier in the day had settled into pleasant warmth on my skin. The last fingers of golden light caused the pink and blue umbrellas to cast a glow across Nicole’s pale blonde hair. She licked a puff of whipped cream off her spoon and eyed me.
“What?” I said through a mouthful of ice cream.
“We’re going to the beach tomorrow,” she said before taking her own bite.
“Have fun,” I mumbled.
She wiped her lips with a napkin and narrowed her eyes at me. “You’re coming.” I opened my mouth to argue, but she held a slender finger up at me and pursed her lips. “It’s the first Saturday you’ve had off in months. School’s over, at least for the summer. You’re coming.”
I sighed and looked up at the pattern of our umbrella. “You really know how to ruin a perfectly good sundae.”
Her eyes shot daggers at me. “We’ll have a great time, Al.” Her expression changed as she seemed to change tactics. Her green eyes widened and her lip stuck out just the tiniest bit.
Cranky Nicole was a challenge, but pouting Nicole was impossible.
“Fine,” I sighed. “We’re going to the beach.” I looked at my sundae, which had made me so happy a minute earlier and a thought came to me. She hadn’t said anyone else was coming, but Nicole and her boyfriend Jeff were practically inseparable. “Wait, who else is going?”
Nicole grinned, clearly smelling her victory. “The usual crew: Jeff, Rachel, Sean and”—her eyebrows inched up—“Ethan.”
I nodded, trying to breathe evenly. I hated the way my pulse spiked at just the mention of his name. Handsome, cocky Ethan. His smile had the power to break down every one of my defenses. But, I didn’t have space in my life for that. I had a plan—to focus on taking care of my mom. My grandparents had done it by themselves for long enough. I needed to find a way to help, to unburden them. That was my priority. But Ethan…he was so hard to resist sometimes.
Just as I began to get lost in thought, a quick movement caught my eye as Jeff snuck up behind Nicole. He held his finger to his lips and planted a kiss on Nicole’s cheek.
She jumped and instinctively smacked him, but a smile overtook her face when she realized who it was.
“Hey, babe.” Jeff took the seat next to her and looked over at me. “Hey, Al.”
The chair next to mine scraped the patio, and it was my turn to jump. Ethan dropped into the seat and grinned at me, his dimples out in full force. I tried to concentrate on my sundae.
“Hey,” he said, nodding at me. A brown curl slipped down his forehead, adding to his annoying charm.
“Hi,” I muttered before shoving a glob of half-melted ice cream in my mouth to avoid conversation. Must. Not. Fall. I reminded myself.
Ethan was tall, olive-skinned with dark, messy curls. Easily the best-looking guy in Stoneville. And also the biggest player in town. He knew the effect he had on girls, and he used it to his advantage.
“So, we’re all set for the beach tomorrow,” Nicole told them. She sounded a little too smug, and I rolled my eyes.
“Something in your eye, Allison?” Ethan asked, seemingly amused at my attempt at indifference.
I clenched my jaw and almost rolled my eyes again. “That must be it, Ethan.”
“Oh, come on. I know how bad you want to see me with my shirt off.”
I knew it didn’t warrant a response, but I could never keep my mouth shut when Ethan provoked me. And he knew it.
“The entire female population of this town has seen you without a shirt on. Not that exciting.”
A slow smile spread across his face—he saw through me. I really needed to work on my sarcasm.
He turned back to Nicole and Jeff, who were debating whether to head northeast to Hampton Beach or southeast to Horseneck Beach the next day. Not a debate I had any interest in. Though, maybe it could be okay…it was a day off after all.
Nicole’s petite nose scrunched up. “Hampton is full of screaming kids. Horseneck is better.”
“What do you think, Ethan?” Jeff asked his brother.
Ethan stretched, raising his arms over his head so that his sleeves fell and showed off his toned biceps. His eyes darted to me before answering. “The girls wear skimpier bikinis at Hampton.”
A gagging sound escaped my mouth before I could stop it.
Ethan grinned, obviously delighted to get another rise out of me. “But I’ll go wherever Al wants to go. I don’t want her to have any reasons to bail on us.”
He would twist anything I said, so this time I managed to stay quiet. Nicole met my eyes and I nodded.
“Horseneck it is.”
Nicole left with Ethan and Jeff a little while later, all three of them excited about the band playing tonight at The Bean Counter. Ethan had made an impressive effort to convince me to come along, but going to the packed coffee house sounded horrible to me. Thank goodness I had my own car and could use needing to go get us food for the beach as an opt out.
“I’ll be over at seven-thirty a.m. sharp!” Nicole hollered from Jeff’s jeep as he pulled away.
Right. Sure, she would.
I chuckled as I drove home from the grocery store, remembering Nicole’s claim that she’d be ready early. All of our lives I’d had to drag her out the door, kicking and screaming, just to get her to school on time.
I pulled into the driveway, grabbed the bags, and headed up the stairs of the front porch. Twigs snapping in the woods broke through the quiet night. As I looked around to see what might have made the noise, a shiver ran down my spine. The yard was dark, and the porch light didn’t reach more than five feet off the steps.
I shook my head, irritated by my paranoia and walked through the front door.
Gram sat on the couch with a crossword book on her lap, and my mother was watching a game show on TV. Pop was slouched in his chair, eyes closed under the half-moon glasses that had slid down low on his nose.
I smiled at them as I quietly set my keys on the sideboard.
At that moment, it wasn’t hard to believe that my mother was the happy, carefree girl everyone claimed she was before I was born. The glow from the lamp brightened her partially damp hair. A stranger wouldn’t think she was much older than me she looked so young. Even staring at the TV with her mouth slightly open, she was beautiful.
“What time will you be heading to the beach tomorrow?” Gram asked without looking up.
“Nicole says she’ll be here at seven-thirty. “ I sighed, pulling a cooler out of the closet. “What do you think the odds are of that happening?”
“No comment, Allie-girl,” Gram replied, a twinkle in her eye.
Sunlight assaulted my eyelids, and I pulled the blanket up over my head with a groan. I’d been dreaming of cloudy, rain-soaked skies, but judging from the intensity of the sun, there weren’t any ominous thunderstorms getting me out of going to the beach today. It was only six o’clock, though, so I climbed out of bed, threw on shorts and a tank top and headed out for a run. At least I’d have a little time to myself.
When I walked back in the house, my mother was already sitting on the couch watching TV. Pop sat at the table reading the Saturday paper. I didn’t see Gram anywhere—she was probably out back watering her garden before it got too hot.
“Good morning, Allison,” Pop said, folding down the corner of his paper.
“Mornin’, Pop,” I said as the smell of fresh coffee drew me into the kitchen where my favorite mug already sat on the counter waiting for me. When I returned to the living room, caffeine in hand, Pop continued.
“I hear you kids are heading to the beach today,” Pop said, his face hidden behind the newspaper. My mother glanced over at him but quickly looked back to the talk show she was watching.
“That’s right. Can’t wait.” I dropped down on the couch with my coffee.
Pop folded down the corner of his paper again, peering at me over his reading glasses. “It’s okay to have some fun once in a while, Al.”
I snorted in response. Going
to the beach with Nicole and her friends didn’t really count as fun in my book. Other than Nicole, I didn’t really feel comfortable around anyone my own age. I’d never fit in, I’d rather just be alone or sit in the backyard with a book while Gram worked in her garden.
“When Beth was a girl, she and Joanne went to the beach just about every weekend during the summer. They were inseparable.” Joanne still stopped by to visit at least once a week, so I could believe it. She also happened to be Jeff and Ethan’s mother.
I raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to tell me something, Pop?” I asked with a smirk.
“Nah, sweetheart. Just thinking life is too short, you know? I wouldn’t want you to miss out on your share of fun before life gets in the way.”
“I’m perfectly happy with a good book and a bowl of Double Fudge ice cream.” I grinned widely, trying to show my sincerity, though probably was pushing it toward overkill.
“It sure isn’t that you’re not pretty enough,” he said, ignoring me. “Those eyes of yours are about the bluest I’ve ever seen. I think all the boys around here are just scared off by your sharp tongue.”
“Think so?” I couldn’t help laughing as I stood up, patted Pop on the shoulder, and went upstairs to change into my bathing suit.
I glanced at my watch. It was seven forty-five. If Nicole didn’t show up by eight, I was grabbing my book and camping out in the backyard.
No sooner than the idea crossed my mind, the screen door slammed. Nicole burst in wearing a hot-pink terrycloth coverall and flip-flops. Her shoulder-length blonde hair was pulled up in a high ponytail.
“We’re burning daylight here, Al. Let’s go!”
“Good morning to you, too. You’re practically on time,” I teased.
“It’ll be a good morning if you have some coffee left.” She whipped open the cabinet and pulled down a travel mug. “Mom and Dad aren’t even up yet.”
I chuckled. “When was the last time you were up at this hour? I haven’t seen you leave the house before nine-thirty since high school.” The hair salon where Nicole worked at opened at ten o’clock, and she didn’t get up earlier than she had to.
