Julia's Daughters (24 page)

“Anyway, I get this bad feeling. I call and her voice sounds . . . strange. So I leave right then and when I get there, Caitlin's the only girl there except for this one slut.” I press my lips together and wonder where my lip balm is. “Caitlin's with this whole house full of guys and—” I feel myself tearing up. “When I walk in, these two guys are—” I start feeling a little shaky. I look at Aunt Laney. “She was pretty drunk. If I hadn't gotten there when I did . . . I think they would have . . .” I meet her gaze in the semidarkness. “Let's just say it wouldn't have been consensual.”

“Oh, sweetie.” She reaches out and squeezes my hand. It's just a quick squeeze. Then she lets go. Like she understands I can only take so much touching before it . . . it just hurts too much.

“I grabbed Caitlin's arm and I dragged her out of that house. I really chewed her out. She was such an innocent, Aunt Laney. She had no idea what I was talking about when I told her those guys could have hurt her. I don't know how she could have been so smart and so dumb.”

“So you got in the car?”

I nod. “She was pretty drunk.”

“And you never told your mother any of this. Did you?” she asks.

I cut my eyes at her. “To what end?”

“Right,” she says softly. She thinks for a minute. “But they didn't do a tox screen on Caitlin after the accident?”

“Why would they?” I ask. “I was the one driving. They did one on me. I was clean.”

“Right,” she murmurs.

“So, anyway.” I lean forward. “We get in the car and we're kind of arguing. She's telling me to mind my own business.” I look at Laney. “But she puts her seat belt on. I
tell
her to put her seat belt on.” I look away. “And I tell her she can't be hanging with people like that. I don't care how nice her friend is. The boyfriend and his friends, they're losers and they're dangerous. But she's all sloppy drunk so she's hollering at me, telling me I'm not her mother and crap like that.” I squeeze my eyes shut for a second. I'd certainly done a little bit of drinking, smoking a little pot, and going to parties, but I never
ever
let myself get in a situation like that. But Caitlin was just . . . dumb about some things.

I take a breath. Exhale. “So she's being obnoxious and she's telling me she's getting out of the car. And I'm telling her she's not. And the whole time she's running her mouth, I'm driving and the seat belt thing is dinging.”

Tears well in my eyes again as I try to remember the exact second when the car stopped dinging. When it stopped telling me Caitlin didn't have her seat belt on. When I forgot she wasn't seat-belted in anymore.

“I was trying to figure out what to do. Did I call Mom and lie and tell her we were going to be late because, I don't know, some friend got wasted and we were driving her home? Or did I try to sneak Caitlin in? I might have gotten away with it. I could have hurried Caitlin down the hall to her room, then gone in to Mom and Dad's room and like sat on the edge of their bed and talked with Mom for a minute. She didn't usually wait up for us, but she always knew when we came in. We had to tell her we were home. And if we were five minutes late, she knew it.”

“And then—” My voice catches in my throat and I feel Laney's warm hand on mine. And this time she doesn't pull it away. “I just . . . I missed the stop sign.” I still can't believe I did it because I'm a good driver.
Was
a good driver. I didn't even have any speeding tickets. “I don't know what happened, Aunt Laney.” I look at her and she has big fat tears running down her cheeks. “There was this horrible sound like you can't imagine. Glass shattering, metal bending and twisting and . . . it was so loud.” I pull my hand from hers, grab the edge of the quilt, and try to pull it tighter to me. I'm so cold, I'm shivering.

“And you didn't tell your mom any of this?”

I shake my head. “Caitlin just made a mistake. It's not like she was going to start getting in trouble or anything.” I sniff and rub my face on the quilt. “I wouldn't have let that happen.”

We're both quiet again.

“You were a good big sister to her,” Laney says.

“I wasn't. I let her unhook her seat belt and I didn't tell her to put it back on. If she'd put her seat belt back on—”

“Oh, Haley. It was a mistake.” She looks into my face. “Like one of the hundreds, thousands we make in a lifetime. It was just bad luck. Bad timing. Whatever.”

I stare out at the street in front of the house. I like Laney's house. I like her street with all the grass and trees, and in the summer there are flowers everywhere. I like how quiet it is here. People are friendly, but they're not like, I don't know . . . nosy.

“You have to let the guilt go, Haley,” Laney says quietly.

I think about that for a minute. “Because I'm hurting Mom and Dad and Izzy?”

She stares at me, and even though I don't want to, I look at her. “Because you're hurting
yourself
.”

For some reason, I don't know why, I laugh and rub my forearm that I'm still keeping bandaged. It hurts when I push on it, but I realize this is the first time I've done it in hours.

“You're so smart, Haley. And you're funny and you're a good person—”

“Don't forget
beautiful,
” I quip.

She's smiling even though she still has tears in her eyes. “And beautiful. You have so much to give the world, but you're in a place right now where you have to make a choice. Are you going to give to the world, or are you going to take from it? Are you going to give the world mostly sadness, or mostly happiness? It's your choice. We each have it. I truly believe that. You know—”

She's quiet long enough that I glance over at her. Her eyes are full of tears and she's staring out over the railing. “You know, when Sean was killed in Afghanistan, I—and don't you dare repeat this, not even to your mother . . . but I considered committing suicide.” She shakes her head. “I was in that much pain. But then I looked at my boys and I thought about what Sean would want and I knew that I couldn't do that to him or my boys . . . or myself. I didn't want to put more pain in the world. I want to give
good
things. I wanted to raise my boys. I wanted to teach. This probably sounds silly, but I wanted . . . I
want
to make the world a better place.”

I think about that for a minute. I think about all the things Caitlin and I used to talk about doing. She wanted to be some kind of environmentalist. She wanted to make people aware of how they were messing up the planet and teach them how to take care of it instead.

“I know this is hard. I cannot imagine what it must be like for you, but . . . Haley, your mom and Izzy love you so much.”

I notice she doesn't mention Dad. Which is weird because I never got the feeling she didn't like him or anything.

“Izzy's so mad at me,” I say.

“She's ten years old. She'll come around. You just have to keep being there for her.” She reaches out and pats my knee. “You know what?”

“What?”

“I think we should go to bed,” she says, getting to her feet and taking the quilt with her.

I look out over the rail. “Is it okay if I stay out here for a little while longer?”

“Sure.” She starts for the door. “Just lock the door when you come inside.”

I watch her for a second. “You're not worried I'm going to try to run away?”

She catches the doorjamb with her hand as she steps inside. “Nah. Because if you run away, I'll come after you.” She waggles her finger at me. “And you know it. And when I catch you, it won't be pretty.” Then she smiles. “Night, sweetie.”

“Good night,” I say. And then I take Caitlin's pink ball out of my pocket and I hold it and just sit there in the quiet darkness.

Chapter 38

Izzy

 

I walk across the back deck of Aunt Laney's cottage and lean on the rail, to look out at the lake. I guess it's really her parents' place. We stay here every summer when we come to Maine on vacation. We pay them rent, but I think they cut Mom a break because they like her. I like it here. We might stay here later in the week when Dad comes. We don't know what day he's coming. Mom's being kind of weird about the whole thing. I don't know why. I guess she's mad because he's mad we came here.

I'm waiting for everybody to come outside so we can take the canoes out. But Aunt Laney and Mom had to do something first. I guess there was a problem with the hot water heater and it had to be replaced. Garret and Liam are getting the canoes from the side of the house. Mom and Aunt Laney and She Who Shall Not Be Named are in the house.

I'm having a really good time. This really is the best adventure I've ever had. I'm so glad Mom let me come to Maine with her. I'll be glad about that forever. Yesterday, my Maine friend Megan and her mom came over to Aunt Laney's and they invited me to come over to their house and hang out and have dinner. I had so much fun with Megan because she doesn't think I'm peculiar. She likes the Discovery Channel, too. She's supposed to go to the Cryptozoology Museum in Portland next weekend with her Girl Scout troop and her mom said I could go too. It's the coolest museum ever. They have stuff about mermaids and bigfoot and yetis. I don't know if any of them are really real, but it's a fun place to go.

Mom didn't say I could go yet though because she doesn't know when we're going back to Vegas. But there's no way we're driving back next weekend. Dad hasn't even said when he's coming here yet. I know Mom is worried about me missing school, but Aunt Laney seems to think it's no biggie and she's a teacher so I believe her more than Mom.

I see Garret come around the house, helping his brother carry one of the canoes. I pick up a pinecone off the deck and throw it down at Garret. The deck is up in the air because of the way the house is built on a little hill that leads down to the lake. I miss and hit the canoe.

“Hey!” Garret yells up at me. “Loser!”

“Bigger loser!” I yell back and we both laugh.

I turn away from the rail and walk toward the French doors that lead into the living room. Someone left them open to air out the house; nobody's stayed here all winter. Before I get to the door, I hear Mom; she's using her serious voice and I stop. I know I shouldn't listen in on conversations, but I can't help myself.
Eavesdropping.
It's becoming my new hobby.

“But I thought it would be good for us to all stay here together,” Mom's saying. “Once your dad gets here.”

“You asked me what I thought,” She Who Shall Not Be Named says. “You can do what you want. Like you said back in Vegas, I'm not eighteen yet so I don't get to decide my fate, but if you want to know what I want, I don't want to stay here.”

I hear some noises like someone's stacking stuff. I peek around the open doors that lead into the living room/kitchen of the main floor of the cottage. There are bedrooms down on the first floor and on the third floor. The house was built this way to get the most out of the view of the lake. I can see Mom and She Who Shall Not be Named standing near the hot water tank closet. I see feet sticking out of the closet. Aunt Laney's sneakers.

Mom crosses her arms over her chest. She's wearing one of Aunt Laney's plaid flannel shirts. Yesterday, Aunt Laney dyed Mom's hair and it's all blond again. It looks good. She hasn't had a haircut since Caitlin bit the dust so her hair is longer. I like it like this. Mom turns toward me and I quickly step back so she doesn't see me.

“Okay. You're right. I'm sorry. I
did
ask.” Mom's holding up one hand. “Why don't you think we should stay here?”

“If you really want to, it's fine and all,” Haley says. “But
I
don't want to be here. I want to stay at Aunt Laney's. I don't want to sleep in the bed Caitlin and I shared downstairs. I don't want to lie there without her.”

“You can sleep in a different room,” Mom says.

I peek around the corner again. No one sees me.

She Who Shall Not Be Named has a book in her hand. She must have taken it from the shelves next to the fireplace. “I don't want to make pancakes in the frying pan she made pancakes in last summer.” She makes a sound like she's upset. “It's not like I want to totally erase her, Mom, but I just—” She's quiet for a second. “I don't want to stay here, okay? Not if I don't have to. And if I do have to . . .” She shrugs. “I'll deal.”

“But you've slept at Laney's with Caitlin,” Mom argues. “Why is this different?”

“I don't know.” Haley shakes her head. “It's just not the same thing. Maybe because we were never alone as a family at Aunt Laney's?”

“The boys and I could stay here for a couple of days while Ben's in town,” Aunt Laney offers. I guess she's out of the closet now. “I need to get things ready for the summer rental season, anyway.”

“I don't want to put you out,” Mom tells her.

“Not a big deal. Whatever you need, Jules.”

I sneak a peek. Aunt Laney is standing in front of Mom now, a broom in her hand. She's wearing a flannel shirt too. “I understand what Haley's saying. And I'm not picking sides. I'm really not, but I felt the same way. After Sean died, I tried to stay in our house; it made the most financial sense.” She shakes her head. “But I couldn't do it. That's why we moved.”

Mom says something, but I can't hear her.

“I loved that little house on Locust Street that Sean and I bought,” Laney goes on. “But I couldn't deal with remembering every minute I spent in that house with him. I know it sounds crazy. Most people don't want to leave the places they lived with their loved ones, but for me, I don't know. I guess I needed the separation from those memories. So I could make new ones.”

No one says anything for a minute, then Mom speaks. “Well, I guess we can talk about it once we know when Ben's coming. He still hasn't bought a plane ticket.”

She looks my way. I think she might have seen me so I walk in like I'm just now coming in from outside. “Garret and Liam have two canoes and the life jackets on the shore. They're going back for the other canoe now. You guys ready to go?”

Haley puts the book back on the shelf. I know she doesn't want to go canoeing, but Mom said she had to. Mom told her she didn't have to have fun if she didn't want to, but she had to go.

“I'm ready,” Laney says, leaning the broom against the wall. She looks like an Indian maiden today, like the ones I've seen in old photographs and on TV and stuff. She's wearing her long black hair in two braids. I wonder if she'd braid my hair for me. I know I won't look all that much like an Indian. Indians didn't have red hair, but it would be fun.

Caitlin used to French braid my hair once in a while.

It suddenly occurs to me that I haven't thought about Caitlin all morning. And now it hurts in my chest a little bit. Thinking about her. Is that bad that I haven't thought about her for hours? Does that make me a bad sister?

I'm glad I told her good-bye when we left Vegas because I haven't heard from her since we left. I tried to talk to her in the car a couple of times, then in the hotel room, but I think she must be gone. I even tried to talk to her in Garret's bedroom, but she wasn't there, either. I guess ghosts can't stay in the same place for too long. I'm sad she's gone, but I get it. It probably wasn't much fun to hang out in my room in the dark. I wonder where she went, but I think that's one of life's greatest unanswered questions, according to the Discovery Channel.

“You want us to help put the rest of that stuff in the closet?” Mom asks Laney. She points to a big pile of stuff: boxes of garbage bags, cleaning products, a fly swatter.

“Nope.” Laney steps over a box of Brillo Pads. “It can wait. Let's get out on the lake while the sun is shining. It's too nice a day to be cooped up in here.”

Aunt Laney leads the way out of the house and we follow her like little chickens: Mom, then Haley, then me. We go down the steps to the ground and follow a path through the woods to the sandy beach. Garret and Liam are just putting the last canoe down, half in the water, half on the beach. I like Liam. He's always nice to me and he doesn't call me names. He's a lot taller than when we saw him in August; he and Garret didn't come for Caitlin's memorial service. He's kind of cute, in a boy way.

Down at the edge of the lake, Aunt Laney starts grabbing life jackets from a pile. She throws them one at a time to each of us. “Julia and I'll take one canoe.”

I catch a blue jacket. It smells musty, but it doesn't matter because we're just going to throw them in the bottom of the canoe. “Me and Garret can go out together.”

“Nope.” Laney throws She Who Shall Not Be Named an orange life jacket. “Garret and Liam. You and Haley. Those are the teams today.”

Haley doesn't say anything. She just takes one of the paddles Liam's handing out.

I stand there for a minute. I really wanted to go canoeing, but I don't want to go with
her
. It won't be any fun. I look at Aunt Laney, then Mom. Maybe Mom will feel sorry for me. “Please? Garret and I want to practice our synchronized paddling.”

“Aunt Laney's the boss, applesauce.” Mom gives me a little push with her paddle. She's trying to be funny.

I don't laugh.

Aunt Laney grabs the last life jacket. Garret's already climbing into one of the canoes so Liam can push them off. I'm sure this will turn into a race. The boys always want to race.

I just stand there, holding my stupid life jacket. I was so excited about canoeing. Now I just want to go get in the car and wait for them.

“Come on, kiddo,” Haley says. She walks past me carrying two paddles. “I've got your paddle.”

I look at Mom again, hoping maybe she'll override Aunt Laney, but she and Aunt Laney are play-arguing over who's getting in first and who's pushing off. If you run fast when you push off, sometimes you don't even get your feet wet, but sometimes you do and we're all wearing sneakers because it's still too cold for bare feet.

I walk toward the last canoe.

“Get in. I'll push off,” She Who Shall Not Be Named tells me.

I drag my feet as I walk, kicking up pine needles that are all over the sandy beach. There was no natural beach here; Aunt Laney's parents had sand hauled in. The lake is so pretty the way the sun's glistening off the water. Or it would be if I were getting to go out in the canoe with Garret.

I throw my life jacket into the canoe. Mom doesn't make me wear it anymore. Not since last summer, finally, when I proved to her I could swim fine. I just don't
like
swimming. At least not in a pool with a swim cap and goggles like I had to wear when she made me swim on swim team last year.

Haley throws her life jacket on top of mine and puts the paddles in. I get into the canoe and sit down hard in the bow, my back to her. I know I'm being a baby, but I really wanted to go out with Garret. I came here instead of staying in town with Megan just so I could go canoeing with Garret.

Even though our canoe's only partially in the water, it rocks. Since we were the last ones to take a canoe, we ended up with the old, crappy one. It's all tippy.

“Whoa, easy there, killer,” Haley says.

I look at her over my shoulder. She's wearing black jeans and her black low-tops, but she's been wearing Aunt Laney's green polar fleece since she got here two days ago. It looks weird to see her
not
in all black. I grab one of the paddles.

I hear Garret and Liam push off and then I see them shoot out across the water, paddling hard. Mom and Aunt Laney are laughing. Aunt Laney says it's Mom's turn to push off. She says she distinctly remembers doing it the last time they went canoeing last summer.

“Ready, Izz?” She Who Shall Not Be Named says to me.

I glance over my shoulder as Mom and Aunt Laney launch; Aunt Laney won. Mom had to push them off and she gets one sneaker wet. One of Caitlin's sneakers. I noticed her wearing them yesterday. Caitlin ran in them; she'd never get them wet.

Haley shoves the canoe hard and I rock back and then forward under the momentum. We learned about
momentum
in science.

She jumps in and I hear her grab her paddle. “Left or right side?”

I stick my paddle into the water on the right side.

I hear and then feel her paddle go into the water. Garret and Liam are already way ahead of us. Show-offs.

I paddle the way Dad taught me, not putting too much paddle in the water, but not too little, either. We're not in sync, though, and soon Mom and Aunt Laney get ahead of us too.

I hear the sound of motorboats. We don't canoe out in the middle; we usually follow the shore, but Sebago Lake is huge. I looked it up once. It's forty-five square miles of water and a hundred miles of shoreline.

We're paddling so out of rhythm that the canoe is rocking. “Come on, Izzy. Stroke, stroke, stroke,” Haley says, using the words to set the rhythm.

I ignore her.

“Jesus,” Haley says after another minute. She pulls her paddle out of the water and we immediately drift right because mine is still in the water. I watch the other two canoes move farther away from us.

I move my paddle to the other side. I paddle on the left, then the right, but she won't paddle so we don't move all that much. “A little help?” I say over my shoulder, with a mean voice.