The car plowed into Serena’s side. In her frenzy she’d managed to dislodge herself from the cross strap of the seat belt, and the only thing keeping her in place was the lap strap, which dug into her internal organs before she was flung through the windshield.
The boy who’d been driving lost his license and was put on probation, and the family moved off-island. I didn’t care about pursuing a case. It was my fault. I was angry and I’d taken my eyes from the road.
I never told Cyrus the details of that day, but less than two years after Serena died, Cyrus moved out. My secret shame consumed everything. It prickled around the edge of my consciousness, a constant reminder that Serena would be alive if I’d been a better mother. More patient, more loving, less unhappy. Being with Cyrus just hurt too much. Every time I looked at him, all I could think about was how much we’d lost. All I could feel was my own devastating guilt. Whether or not Cyrus forgave me, I’d never forgive myself.
When he decided to move out, I tried to comfort Daisy, but I was still a zombie, going through the motions of every day. Some mornings I awoke and forgot Serena was gone, and when I remembered, the air disappeared, leaving me gasping and choking in bed. Still, those few seconds of forgetting were the best part of the day.
A few years ago, I tried to go off the antidepressants. I didn’t want to be on them forever and I felt steady enough to stop. But within a few days, I felt the dark swirls of depression starting to close in. The world started to take on a flat one-dimensional shape, all color and sparkle gone from it. Panic set in quickly at the thought of falling face first into that despair all over again. My brain, heart, and even the chemicals in my body all changed permanently when Serena died, and there’s no going back to who I was before.
By the time Cyrus comes back into the house, I’m half asleep on the couch. He perches on the arm of the sofa, and I push myself to sitting.
“I’m going to head out.”
I nod. “How’s the car?”
“The brake pads need to be replaced, but I think she might need new brakes too. She’ll have to bring it into the shop this week. Tell her I’ll call to set up a time for her to drop it off.” Cyrus enjoys this small way of taking care of her. “I still think she might be better off just getting a new one. I’ll have them call me with an estimate before they do any work on it.”
“Okay.”
“About earlier,” Cyrus starts.
I wave his words away and shake my head. “Forget it.”
“We both know it would have been a bad idea.” I know he’s right, but his words still sting.
“So why do we keep ending up here?” I ask.
Cyrus shrugs and lays his hand upon my head. I close my eyes at how easily he’s able to comfort me. “Old habits?”
“Why did you leave?” The argument with Daisy has gotten me thinking about Serena, about how things could have turned out differently for our whole family.
“Evvy.” His smile disappears. “Come on. We’ve been through this before. Let’s not do it again. Okay?”
My eyes fill with tears, and I blink them back, unwilling for him to see any fall. “I know I was terrible to live with.”
“You weren’t. It wasn’t that.” He rubs his forehead with the heel of his hand. If he wasn’t regretting coming by already, he is now. “You weren’t happy. We weren’t happy.” He gives me a wry smile and the corners of his eyes crinkle. “Don’t you remember? Even before Serena. We fought all the time.”
I nod. I do remember. But what I remember more than the fights is making up after them. I want to say this to him, but the mood has shifted between us, from heated to melancholy.
“I should go.” He stands and shoves his hands deep in the pockets of his jacket, as if preventing himself from touching me again.
“Okay. Goodnight, Cy.” My head aches, a hangover from the half-bottle I’ve drunk already setting in.
“Night, Ev.”
The front door clicks as he lets himself out. I lie back down on the couch, turning my face into the pillow to cry. I’ve spent the past six years convincing Ian he has no reason to be threatened by Cyrus, but the jealousy he feels is justified. If Ian ever knew how I really feel about Cyrus, he’d kill us both.
15
Daisy
I close the door to my room and flop on the bed. The glow I’ve felt all day has quickly evaporated since arriving home. The argument with my mother has left me coiled tight, all that pent-up frustration and resentment still stewing despite the minor release. I don’t know what I interrupted between my parents, or maybe I don’t want to imagine it. There are times when my mother is like a teenager, impetuous and irresponsible, letting her emotions override her common sense. And there are other times when I worry that all those loose emotions will land her in hot water.
Now I’m doubly annoyed with her, because I was in such a good mood when I got home. I push the petty fight aside and lie down on my bed, trying to recapture last night with Todd.
When I agreed to let him drive me, I’d been planning on going home. But when we were between Osprey and Egret, he got a phone call. From the moment he looked at the name on the phone, the tension emanated from him.
“It’s my brother.” He hesitated before answering. “Hey. What,” was his greeting. In the dim glow of the streetlight I saw the tightness in his jaw. “I’m headed into Osprey to drop off a friend. I can’t. Are you kidding me? You miss Molly’s party and now this?” I couldn’t hear Bret’s response, only the tinny sound of his voice through the phone. “Where are you?” Todd asked, his voice full of resignation. “Fine, I’m on my way. Just wait for me outside.”
“Everything all right?” I asked after he’d hung up.
“Look, I’m sorry. That was my brother. He needs me to come get him.”
I pulled my coat tighter around me. “Where is he?”
“Heron.” Heron is at the far north end of the island. Osprey is at the south end. Egret is on the west coast, about twenty minutes away.
“Okay.” I waited to see if he would offer more explanation. “Do you want to drop me first?” I asked, but already he was taking the turn off for Heron. My mind flashed to Layla, the dark beach she died upon. I thought back to my indecision about getting a ride home with Todd, a guy I barely knew, and wondered if I made the wrong call.
“I’m really sorry about this. It’s just… he’s kind of messed up right now. I need to get him out of there,” Todd said. His voice was so full of tired frustration that I relaxed. He was annoyed and preoccupied, not plotting my murder.
“Where is he?” I asked.
“At some party with a bunch of the lowlifes he hangs with. I just need to get him home.”
We were quiet until we reached Heron. Todd turned onto a residential road and then down another one and then onto a small dirt road. While most of the houses on the road were dark, there were lights on in a weathered Cape. Two cars were parked in the driveway and a few more on the side of the road. I recognized Connor’s beat-up Jeep, and my heart beat a little faster.
“There he is,” Todd said. The headlights illuminated a slight figure leaning against the sagging log fence. Bret was hunched over in jeans and just a sweatshirt despite the frigid February temperatures. Todd pulled over and Bret got in the back seat.
“Thanks,” he said to Todd.
Todd didn’t answer, focusing on making a three-point turn on the snowy dirt lane. The road was slick with patches of ice, small snowbanks piled to the side.
I glanced over my shoulder. “Hi,” I said. He nodded, and though we know each other a little, he didn’t acknowledge it. He hunched down further in his seat and closed his eyes.
“If I get stuck down this road you’re paying for my tow,” Todd said.
“You have four-wheel drive. You’ll be fine,” Bret muttered in a dismissive voice. He was right, and after another moment we were turning onto the main road.
In the back seat there was the flare of a lighter.
“Don’t smoke in my car,” Todd snapped without turning around.
“I’ll open a window.”
“Don’t smoke in here,” Todd ordered.
“God, when did you get to be such an uptight bastard?” Bret asked mildly. Todd slammed on the brakes in the middle of the road. I jerked forward and then back in my seat.
“Do you want a ride or not?” All of the lightness from earlier was gone from Todd’s voice. Instead there was only anger and impatience. I felt a flutter of unease and again wondered if I’d been foolish to accept a ride home.
“Relax, I’ll put it out,” Bret said, and flicked the cigarette out the open window.
Todd pulled back out onto the road and began driving. He glanced at me. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I said quietly.
“I’m going to drop him and then I’ll bring you home. I know it’s in the opposite direction, but I just want to get him back before he starts throwing up or something,” Todd said under his breath.
“I’m fine. I’m not going to throw up,” Bret said from the back seat.
“Yeah? So why did you need me to come get you? Right this second?” We’d turned down the coastal road that led back toward Egret. The ocean was a black glimmer out the window, the moon hidden behind a patch of clouds.
I looked at Bret in the back seat. He was huddled low in his seat with the hood up over his head. “It was a bad scene is all. There was shit going on that I’m not into. I just wanted to get out of there.”
I imagined syringes on the table, people shooting up in the living room and dozing off on couches, but all I could conjure up was a series of TV and movie scenes. The parties I’m used to are full of beer and cups of vodka and Red Bull, baggies of pot, and the fug of cigarette smoke.
“Bring him home first. It’s no problem,” I said to Todd instead.
“Thanks.” Todd flipped on the radio and no one spoke for the rest of the ride.
Egret and Osprey exist on the same swath of island, but they’re different in nearly every way. While Osprey is made up of a mix of extravagant summer houses and modest year-round homes in residential neighborhoods, Egret is rolling hills with gated properties and private beach access. There are working farms, but mostly it’s open space. The money in Egret is old—families have owned the same land for generations. There aren’t many year-round families in Egret; mostly summer folks, retired people, and a handful of the trust fund singles. Despite the smallness of the island, it’s not a place where I spend much time, and I’m always blown away by its beauty and the wealth.
Todd turned onto a series of dirt roads. After several minutes, we stopped in front of a large gray-shingled house on at least an acre of land. A few lights were on inside.
“Wake up,” Todd barked.
Bret gave a grunt from the back seat and then opened the door. “Thanks,” he muttered as he stumbled from the car.
“You owe Molly an apology. That really sucked,” Todd added.
“Yeah, I know,” Bret said, and then shuffled toward the house.
Todd let out a sigh once the door closed behind Bret. “Sorry about that.” He ran a hand through his hair.
“It’s fine. Really.” He seemed so different from the guy who’d helped me wash dishes just an hour ago; more fragile, less confident. “Are you all right?”
“I don’t know.” He held my gaze. “Do you want to come in for a drink?”
Though I’d been exhausted at the party, I suddenly wasn’t the slightest bit tired. If anything, I was the opposite, wound up with extra energy. I knew I wouldn’t sleep if I went home. “Okay.”
“Really?”
“Sure. Here?” I gestured toward the big house.
“No. This is my parents’ place. They have a guesthouse down the road. Molly usually lives there, but she let me have it for the week.” He shifted the car into drive and continued until we arrived at another house, this one much smaller. Todd parked in the driveway and we stepped into the cold.
It seemed brighter out here, which was strange because there weren’t any streetlights or cars. But it was as if the night were alive. The moon cast a pale blue glow over the endless field of snow, and the stars were bright little buttons in the sky. I stopped to look at the magnitude of it, to breathe in the faint scent of imminent snow, the crisp earthy tang of the air.
“It’s so beautiful.”
He looked up at the moon that shone down on the field. “Yeah, it is. I love it here.” He took my hand and squeezed it, then led me into the house. Todd flicked on the lights. Inside it was warm and cozy.
“Is whiskey okay? I think that’s all there is.”
“Sure.”
I sat down on a plush velour couch while Todd went into the other room to fix drinks. White paper lanterns hung from the ceiling and the windows were outlined with strings of Christmas lights. Todd came in carrying two small tumblers of whiskey.
“Nice place.”
“Oh, thanks. My parents used to keep it open for guests in the summer, but Molly’s been living in it for the past two years.” He handed me the glass and then sat down beside me on the couch. “She and Benny will probably buy a place of their own soon. Here you go.”
“Thanks.” I took a sip, and my eyes and throat burned. I swallowed hard.
Todd laughed. “Not a whiskey fan?”
“No, it’s good,” I lied.
“I’m surprised you agreed to come back here.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. After that, with Bret. I figured you’d want to go home,” Todd said.
“Is he okay? Should you have gone in with him?” It hadn’t occurred to me till now that maybe someone should have stayed with him at the house.
“He’ll be fine. This is pretty much a weekly occurrence,” he said darkly.
“What is?” I took another sip and tried not to wince.
“Him getting wasted. At least that’s what Molly tells me. I’m not around much, so I don’t always see it. But I’ve seen it this week.” His face tightened. “I don’t really want to know. Do you think that’s terrible?” He pulled a purple wool blanket off the couch and spread it over our laps.
“No.” I tapped my ring against the side of the glass tumbler. “My friend Connor hangs out with Bret.” The word friend sounded empty and hollow, but I suppose that’s what Connor is. “It’s the same kind of thing. He’s changed. I know it’s because he’s got into drugs, but I don’t really want to know either.” I met Todd’s eyes. “He was there tonight. I saw his car.”
Todd nodded. “I know Connor. He used to come around a lot. I haven’t seen him in a while though. He’s a good guy.”
I nodded into my glass. “Yeah. He is.”
“Is he your boyfriend?” Todd held my eyes and something in my stomach flipped, like the wings of a butterfly fluttering inside.
“No, not really. It’s kind of complicated.” I struggled for the right words. “But no. He’s not.”
“I’m glad.” He leaned forward and brought his lips to mine. His mouth was soft and tasted of whiskey. I was growing to like the flavor. His hand came up to my face and cupped my cheek, delicately, as if I were something breakable that needed to be handled carefully. After a moment, he pulled back. “Was that all right?”
I nodded, my breath still caught in my chest. I let out a long exhale, and Todd’s face softened into a smile.
“Don’t forget to breathe.”
“I won’t.” My words came out in a whisper.
I’ve never been into one-night stands. On an island like Great Rock, word gets around fast of who you’ve been with, and I’ve never wanted to be the one that the rumor mill churns about. And there’s always been Connor. The pull between us is something that forever flickers around the periphery of everything else. Even when I’ve had boyfriends before, Connor was always there, the hot center of my world.
But I know he’ll drag me down, if I let him. Not because I’ll join him on the ugly path he
’s traveling, but because I’ll follow him and find myself alone in an unknown dirty place, watching him choke on his own breath.
So I put my glass on the table and reached for Todd. I ran my hands up the solid length of his back, my palms moving over the softness of his shirt, breathing in the soapy scent of his skin. I pulled him down to the couch, my head sinking into a striped pillow that smelled of cinnamon and lavender. His weight upon me was a relief, his chest and limbs pressing me deeper into the safety of the couch. I surprised him with my determination, tugging at the soft leather of his belt, unhooking the clasp of my bra. The desire that reared up inside of me was sudden and unexpected, like I’d finally found something good and clean after so long in the mud.
Back in my own bedroom, I let out a sigh at the memory of last night. We spent the rest of the day in bed, watching movies and talking. When he dropped me off at my car, he promised to see me again before he went back to Boston, and while I know it’s unlikely he’ll call or text, that I probably won’t see him for years until we bump into each other someplace on the island and awkwardly say hello, I can’t help but hope that he meant it.
16
Caroline
All that time when it was just me, Jack and Connor, I assumed they would always be there, flesh-and-bone beings within arm’s reach. Though I should know better by this stage of life, it’s taken Jack leaving for me to realize that nothing is permanent.
It wasn’t always easy. There were money concerns and the day-to-day doldrums of family life, and my chafing desire to leave the island. There was the sadness when I wasn’t able to have another child, and we had to let that vision of a louder fuller family fade away. But through it all, I’d been naive enough to think that what we had—the three of us together—was ours to keep. And then within a few months, Connor left home, and Jack left, and now it feels like someone up there is laughing at me, shaking his head at all that I’ve taken for granted these years, foolish enough to think there’s anything in this world that’s more than just temporary.
Everybody Lies Page 11
