At the water I unclip Champ’s leash and he bounds down the strip of beach, grateful to be unrestrained after a long afternoon inside. He runs for a bit and then turns around and comes back to me, ears pricked up, mouth open in a wide canine grin. The air is crisper and blows harder down here. It cuts through my heavy coat and snakes its way under the gap of my sweater. As much as I hate winter, there’s something that feels good about the shock of it, a bracing reminder that I’m alive. I pull down my hat to cover my ears and trudge on.
Champ comes panting back to me, a piece of driftwood in his mouth. I throw it, and he hurdles down the beach to fetch it. Fetch and throw. Fetch and throw. It requires so little to make him happy.
Sometimes I think I’m too close to Connor to see him clearly. He’ll always be a child to me, and even now, when I’m presented with evidence of all the ways he’s changed, the self-destructive path he’s set himself on, I can only think about the past.
I remember when I found out about Serena. It was Cyrus who called Jack. Jack came into the living room, visibly shaken. I’d never seen such an expression on his face. Connor was off-island at a hockey game, one of the few that neither of us attended. For a moment, I thought it was Connor. Images flashed through my mind. Red blood on the white ice, a broken neck, a fractured spine, the blade of a skate in his eye. When Jack told me that Serena was dead, for just a fraction of a second, I felt relieved. Not us, I thought. We’re okay. It wasn’t even a full second, and the very next moment I was struck dumb with my own shock and desolation for Evvy and Cyrus. I’ve never forgiven myself for that infinitesimal instant thought, and I wonder if Evvy knows that before I grieved for Serena, I rejoiced in my own good luck. I still feel guilty every time I think about it.
When Serena died, Evvy died too. She’s resurrected herself from the brink, but her sadness is still bottomless. Yet Evvy had Daisy to survive for. If I lost Connor, I don’t think I’d ever rise again.
I’ve seen the pictures of Layla Dresser. She was young and pretty, still a girl. What’s happened to her mother? There’s been little about her in the paper. She doesn’t live on the island, or even in the state, and none of us has ever had to see the depth of pain in her eyes, but that doesn’t make it any less real. Just like Serena, Layla Dresser was someone’s daughter. Everyone’s forgotten that a young woman is dead, and there were people who loved her. So preoccupied are we with the way her death, her murder, has rippled across the island, that we’ve forgotten what started it.
I think about Ian, his anger finally boiling over, fingers closing around that poor girl’s neck. The sky is getting darker, and I suddenly have no desire to be on this beach, so close to the beckoning fingers of evil, some morbid force drawing me down here. All this time I’ve been convinced Ian wouldn’t kill a girl he barely knew. If Ian were to kill someone, it would be Evvy.
Yet this new information, a relationship between them, ignites the possibility again.
If this is true, then Connor’s only crime is the baggie full of drugs, and while this isn’t nothing, it isn’t murder. I don’t know how I can feel relief at such a realization, and my guilt at Evvy’s loss and what awaits her is close to what it was the day I found out about Serena.
The streetlights flicker on, and the white orbs cast a dim light on the beach. I call for Champ and clip him on the leash, hurrying toward the stairs.
27
Evvy
Moby Dick’s is nearly empty. Caroline and I find a table in the back, and I’m relieved there’s no one here that we need to talk to. Usually it’s Caroline who hates the lack of anonymity on the island, but tonight I don’t feel like seeing a single person I know.
“Do you ever dream of just getting the hell away from here?” I ask Caroline after our drinks have arrived.
“All the time.” Caroline smiles wistfully.
“I’m like the island freak show. I can almost hear the whispers.” I don’t say what the whispers are, but we both know. Poor woman. First her daughter, now this. How she manages to get up in the morning is beyond me. I can hear their clucking tongues, the tsk-tsk as they shake their heads, clutching their own loved ones a little closer. Secretly they all think it could never happen to them. Just for a moment, it would be nice to live in a place where no one knows me.
Yet this is my home. Even as a teenager, I knew I’d live on Great Rock as an adult. For some of us who grew up here, we couldn’t imagine living in a place where you have to lock your doors, where there’s a mall on every corner, where you can’t see the stars at night and there are strangers everywhere. Great Rock is like a place that time forgot, which makes some people crazy, but is actually the best part about it. Caroline’s always been itching to leave, but that’s because Great Rock isn’t in her blood. You need to be born here to truly understand the magic of the island. Then again, Daisy’s got the island in her blood and she’s dying to get out of here.
Caroline sips her red wine and sighs. “How are you holding up?”
“I don’t know. The whole thing feels like a bad dream, you know? I just can’t believe Ian could do this.” Caroline averts her eyes and doesn’t respond. I’m not yet willing to entertain the idea that Ian might have done this, even if it’s clear that Caroline thinks he’s guilty. “I know you hate him.”
“I don’t hate him. I just… I don’t trust him, and I don’t like the way he treats you.”
“He treats me fine,” I say, but now I’m the one avoiding eye contact.
“He hits you,” Caroline hisses. She’s careful not to raise her voice but the frustration comes through.
“That was only once,” I start, but Caroline sees right through the lie. “It’s not as if it happens all the time.”
She lets out a gasp of exasperation. “Can you hear yourself? You sound like a battered wife on some stupid made-for-TV movie. It’s not okay. Not just a few times, not even once. It’s not okay. And now this. He’s cheating on you too?”
I gulp down the rest of my drink and signal to the waitress for another. I haven’t eaten in hours, and the drink mixed with the sleeping pills I took earlier leaves me with a fuzzy feeling, all my usual filters gone. The waitress brings our burgers and puts the plates down in front of us. We’re quiet while she gets things settled and don’t talk till she’s out of earshot. Neither of us touches our food.
“I can’t make you understand,” I say quietly.
“What? What don’t I understand?” Caroline looks so sad that I wish we were the type of friends who hugged easily or held hands, but Caroline’s not a toucher. The new haircut makes her look younger, like when we first met. We were babies back then, practically the same age as Connor and Daisy. Another lifetime. I swallow down the lump in my throat and force myself to answer Caroline.
“Ian saved me. Without him, I would have rolled over and died.” Caroline doesn’t answer and I try to explain. “After Serena died, I didn’t think I’d ever want to do anything again.” Even all these years later, it’s hard to talk about Serena. Her life. Her death. I think about her all the time, but talking about her is still so raw. Caroline knows this and never tries to bring her up, though I know she sometimes wants to. I know she thinks it’s unhealthy to never talk about her, and while she’s probably right, talking about Serena makes me feel like I’m staring head first into the black hole of her death. The loss is still so big that it could swallow me up. I feel myself on the brink of that abyss now, but I have to make Caroline understand why I need Ian. “He brought me back to life. He helped me start Petunia’s. He gave me a purpose again.”
The words are not enough. Ian did give my life a purpose again, but how do I explain that everything is still shadowed by Serena’s death? Though I’ve learned to get up in the morning again, it doesn’t mean I always want to. Since Ian came along, I do it anyway.
Caroline is quiet for a moment. “Evvy, I know you think you need him, and maybe you do, but it still doesn’t make it okay for him to hurt you.” I look down at my pl
ate and nod. Deep down, I know she’s right, even if I’m right too.
Our waitress arrives at our table. “How is everything?”
We’ve only picked at the meal, but we both smile and tell her everything is fine.
“Is Connor in the kitchen tonight?” Caroline asks. The girl nods. I don’t recognize her; she’s young, probably still in high school.
“I’m going to sneak in to say hello to him,” Caroline tells me, and then heads to the doors that lead to the kitchen.
“Another round of drinks?” the waitress asks.
Caroline’s just finishing her first glass but I’m nearly done with number two. “Please.” I try to force myself to eat the burger, though all I really want is the wine. I pick at the fries instead, knowing that the uneaten leftovers will sit in the fridge till Daisy finds them. Caroline’s gone a long time, but eventually she comes back to the table with Connor by her side.
It’s been a while since I last saw Connor, a few months at least, and his appearance is startling. He’s always been thin, but he’s skinnier than usual, all angles and bones. He looks tired, far more tired than a twenty-one-year-old should look. Despite what I’ve long suspected, I’m unprepared for Connor’s transformation. I press my lips tightly together, hoping my shock isn’t evident.
“I wanted him to come say hello,” Caroline says.
“Hi, Connor,” I manage to get out.
“How’s your food?” He gestures to the untouched burger.
“Great.”
He nods and turns to Caroline. “I’ve got to get back to the kitchen.”
“Okay. Bye, honey. Tomorrow night, okay?” she says hopefully, but he doesn’t answer.
When he’s gone, Caroline sits down. The waitress brings our drinks. I’m struck silent by what I’ve just seen and what Caroline is oblivious to. This boy lay on my living room floor in a sleeping bag. He dressed up as Captain Hook for Halloween and held Serena’s hand while we went trick or treating. He brought Daisy to both his prom and hers. My chest is tight and breathing is suddenly difficult. Caroline picks up her burger and takes a bite, then turns to look at me.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“Have you looked at Connor recently?” My voice comes out as a whisper.
Caroline gives a little laugh. “I just saw him now.”
“No, I mean, have you really looked at him?”
“He’s going through a hard time,” she starts, but I hold up my hand.
“He’s doing drugs, Caroline. Can’t you see that?” My voice is too loud in the restaurant, but there are hardly any other customers to overhear.
“He’s not, he’s fine,” Caroline whispers.
“Don’t lie. Not to me. Not about this.” I hold her gaze until her eyes fill with tears and she looks down at her plate.
“I don’t know what to do,” Caroline says, and it’s by the way her voice cracks like she’s about to start crying that I know how upset she is. I wonder how long she’s known, how long she’s been in denial and holding this inside.
I’m awake suddenly, the last dregs of the sleeping pills finally worn off, my whole body on alert. I want to clutch her by the shoulders and shake her till the blinds fall from her eyes and the cotton drops from her ears. Caroline doesn’t yet realize that sometimes there are no second chances. One wrong move and everything in your life can be undone. What I would give for a chance to save Serena. To have back those precious seconds when I took my eyes off the road. How I wish I’d stopped at the store for that stupid bag of chips, and not just any bag—a super-size bag I’d let her eat all in one sitting. What I would give for the opportunity to confide in someone that Serena’s rage wasn’t normal, that she needed help, that we needed help. I should have called the doctor’s office earlier, I should have called her teacher, I should have called a therapist, I should have, I should have, I should have. In retrospect it’s so simple.
“You fight for him. Before it’s too late,” I hiss at her.
“How?” Her skin has gone blotchy and her eyes are shiny, but there’s something determined there too. She waits for my answer, and though she needs to see the truth, the way forward is unclear, the road crooked and littered with obstacles. And then it unfurls before me.
“You call Jack. You tell him Connor needs help.” She blinks in disbelief and doesn’t answer. I reach across the table and squeeze her hand. “You need to call Jack.”
28
Daisy
I stop at my father’s house on the way back from Todd’s. I haven’t spoken to him since the day he came by to supposedly check on my car. I’ve been driving my mother’s car for the past few days and she’s been using Ian’s. It doesn’t look like Ian will be needing it any time soon.
Gina’s little white Honda is in the driveway next to my father’s pickup truck, and I can’t help but be disappointed that she’s home. It’s not that I don’t like Gina, but she’s vice principal at the high school, and she acts the same at home as she does at school. A place for everything and everything in its place, she’s said to me more than once. She’s the complete opposite of my own mother, but at least she’s stable and nice enough and she seems to make my dad happy, even if I sometimes wonder if she actually needs him for anything. Then again, maybe this is why my dad likes her. Gina’s competent and self-sufficient.
I knock on the front door and then go in without waiting for an answer. I’ve spent almost as much time in this house as I have in my mom’s, but it’s never felt like home. My dad and Gina are in the kitchen cleaning up from dinner. Actually, Gina’s loading the dishwasher while my dad sits at the table and finishes a beer. I know from personal experience that this isn’t because my father doesn’t try to help, it’s because Gina is totally anal about the way the dishwasher is loaded. It’s easier just to bring the dishes to the sink and let her do it herself.
My dad’s face lights up when he sees me, and Gina pauses in her work. I step out of my wet boots so they don’t leave mud and snow on the shiny hardwood floor.
“I was just on my way home, and I thought I’d swing by,” I say.
“We just finished dinner. Are you hungry?” Gina asks.
I haven’t had anything to eat since breakfast. “Yeah, if there’s anything left over.”
“Sit down. I’ll get you some pasta,” my dad says. The pot is still on the stove and he gets up to fill a plate with spaghetti and meatballs. “It should still be warm. Want some garlic bread?”
“Sure, thanks.”
He brings me a bowl and I start to eat. My father brings his beer to the table and sits down with me while Gina finishes cleaning off the counter. When the kitchen is gleaming and the air smells faintly of lemon cleaner, she folds the dishtowel and hangs it on the handle of the stove. “I’m going to go up and do some work. You guys okay in here?”
We nod and I’m glad to see her go. I have a hard time relaxing around Gina. Too many years of seeing her strolling the hallways of Great Rock High, always on the lookout for misbehaving teenagers. I feel guilty around her, even when I haven’t done anything wrong.
“So. Everything okay?” my dad asks, once we’ve heard the office door shut behind Gina. “How’s your mom?”
“Okay, I guess. I went with her to the arraignment this morning. They’re not letting Ian out on bail.”
He nods and takes another swig of his beer. “I heard.”
I push the empty bowl away. “They talked about his history of domestic abuse. Do you know anything about that?”
His jaw tightens. “Not much.”
“He doesn’t hit her, Dad. I’ve never seen anything like that. He’s nice to her. I’d know if he was beating her up.” I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince him or myself. “I would have told you if something like that was going on.”
His face softens and he pats my hand. “I know, sweetheart.” He gets up from the table and goes to the fridge, pulling another beer out. He pops the tab on the can and takes a sip before speaking agai
n. “I think it’s only happened once or twice. She told Caroline about something that happened years ago, but it doesn’t help his case. Establishes a history of violence.”
I shake my head, still stunned by this new perception of Ian. “I’m worried about her,” I say.
He nods, his face unreadable. “I know. Me too.”
I’m overcome with an unexpected wave of longing for the family we once had. I’m being ridiculous, because I remember what it was like before my parents split up. The endless silence between them that filled every corner of the house. The only way our family could be whole again is if Serena were still alive, though even before she died, her presence was like a storm, something swift-moving and unpredictable, knocking over everything in its path. Sometimes I hate her almost as much as I miss her. It’s too easy to blame her for the way things fell apart.
“Do you miss her?” I ask. I’m talking about Serena, but he misunderstands, unable to see the cobwebbed strands in my mind. My father glances upstairs before he answers, and when he speaks his voice is soft and careful.
“I care about your mother very much. But I’m with Gina now. You know that.”
I look down at my empty dishes. Crumbs of bread litter the plate and the remains of the tomato sauce glisten in the bowl. “I know.”
“Where’s all this coming from?”
Everybody Lies Page 18
