The Rest of the Story

by Sarah Dessen

  She shut the door behind her, then came over, climbing up to sit opposite me. “Colin called.”

  I just looked at her. “And?”

  “And,” she said slowly, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, “we talked.”

  “Talked?” I repeated. “About what? The fact that he’s a jerk?”

  Clearly, the answer to this was no: instead of replying, she scooted a bit closer, lowering her voice. “Look. What he did was awful. But he did explain.”

  “You can’t explain blowing someone off for a formal dance,” I said, surprised at how angry I was getting. “It’s horrible.”

  She looked doubtful, as if this was in question. “Well—”

  “Bailey. He had a girlfriend the whole time you guys were hanging out.”

  “It’s more complicated than that,” she protested. “See, they were basically on a break for the summer, except that he’d mentioned Club Prom to her months ago, and she wanted to come see the lake, so . . .”

  “He asked you to go with him,” I said.

  “Because he didn’t think she’d actually follow through and come! But then, you know, she did. And he was stuck.”

  “Huh,” I said.

  “I know!” she said quickly, encouraged, as if I’d agreed with her, which I hadn’t. “He’s not a bad guy, Saylor. He just screwed up. And he’s really sorry.”

  “Bailey.” I narrowed my eyes at her. “You’re not going to get back together with him, are you? Because that’s—”

  “We’re talking,” she said again. I already hated this phrase. “And he invited us over tonight, because they’re having a Campus party. Will you come?”

  “No,” I said.

  She blinked. “You didn’t even think about it!”

  “I don’t have to,” I said. “I don’t want anything to do with those guys.”

  “Saylor,” she groaned, adding syllables to my name to draw it out. “If you don’t come, I have to go alone. Is that what you want?”

  “What I want,” I replied, “is for you to realize that you deserve better than someone who would stand you up when you are all dressed up for an event to which they invited you and then not apologize for, like, days.”

  “Saylor.”

  “I’m not going,” I said, and she sighed, rolling her eyes. “Besides, this is my last night. I want to spend it here.”

  She looked at me, surprised. “Your last night? What do you mean?”

  “I’m leaving tomorrow,” I said, gesturing at my barely packed bag, which sat on the only chair in the room, symbolizing my ambivalence. “My dad’s coming and we’re going to stay at the Tides.”

  Now she was shocked silent, at least for a moment. “Are you serious?”

  I nodded. “I found out a few days ago, but now it’s really—”

  “This is great!” She sat up straighter, suddenly energized. “You’ll be over there right by the Club, so you can be my eyes and ears. You can tell me if he’s serious about wanting to get back together.”

  Forget denial: this was delusional. “Did you hear me say I’m leaving?”

  “For the Tides, though!” she said. “You can’t be upset about that, it’s like a dream.”

  Of course she’d see it that way. “I just want to stay where I am.”

  “God, why?” she said. “Saylor, you’re going to hang out in the nicest hotel in the area.”

  Who cares? I wanted to shout. Out loud I said, “I like it here.”

  “Only because you don’t know any better.” She sighed wistfully. “God. You are so lucky.”

  I could admit to already being emotional. But something about her using that word, at that moment, made my temper flare. “Lucky?” I repeated. “Just because I’m going to stay someplace nice?”

  “Well . . . yeah. I mean, Saylor, come on. It’s kind of a first-world problem. If it’s a problem at all.”

  “You’ve had the lake your whole life,” I said, my voice rising a bit. “You take it for granted. I only had three weeks to meet you, and Trinity, and—”

  “We’re not going anywhere,” she said. “You can come back anytime. But the Tides? That’s, like, special. Can’t you see that?”

  Always about the place. Never about me. “What I see is that you don’t care at all that I’m upset,” I said. “When you aren’t telling me I’m spoiled for feeling that way.”

  “You are spoiled!” she shot back. Then, immediately, she said, “I mean—”

  I swallowed, hard. “Yeah. What do you mean?”

  “You don’t know what it’s like to live here! How dead it is all winter, nobody around. And then summer comes and yeah, it’s nicer, but most of us have to work all the time, because that’s when you make money. For you it’s a fun getaway, discovering your history or whatever. The rest of us don’t get that luxury. Nobody does except for you.”

  I thought back to the first days I’d been here, when I’d found out Mimi had said I was on vacation and that everyone should let me relax. Since then I’d worked my butt off cleaning rooms, not to mention being Bailey’s wing person as she made one bad choice after another. Clearly, though, it made no difference. I was the rich spoiled cousin then, and the rich spoiled cousin now.

  “I need to pack,” I said flatly, sliding off the bed. “Are we done here?”

  “Are you coming to Campus?”

  I just looked at her. “You just called me spoiled! Why would I go anywhere with you?”

  “Saylor.” She exhaled softly. “I didn’t—”

  “Yeah, you did,” I told her. I walked over to the door, opening it. “Have fun. Maybe you can find someone else to date Blake this time.”

  She looked at the door, but didn’t budge. “Okay, I think things have gotten a little twisted. All I said was—”

  “I know what you said,” I told her. Then I walked over to my bureau, pulling open a drawer, and started to pack again.

  For a while she just sat there, watching me. Waiting for me to say something, or reverse this. By the time I moved on to my closet, though, she’d gotten to her feet and started over to the door.

  “Hey,” she said. “Look. I’m sorry.”

  “Me too,” I said. But I didn’t turn around. “I’ll see you around.”

  She stayed there another minute, waiting for me to look at her again, but I didn’t. I was just so hurt, and frustrated, so close to crying I could feel the sobs in my chest. That first day, knowing me from no one, it was Bailey who’d stood up for me to Taylor, claiming family trumped everything. Back then, I hadn’t expected such loyalty and had been touched. When I really needed it, however, she could only think of herself. I was putting the album in my bag when I heard her leave and go down the stairs.

  Now, walking the silent block to Conroy’s, I thought of Bailey and not much else. How we’d covered this same distance, but going the other way, on our own walk home together. We’d talked the entire time. Now it seemed entirely possible, if not likely, that I’d leave without even saying goodbye to her. It wasn’t like we were sisters, only cousins. But it still made me sad.

  When I reached the market, I crossed the parking lot and pushed open the door. Immediately, I was hit with a blast of A/C like a wind gust, sending goose bumps springing up on my bare arms.

  “Welcome to Conroy’s,” a distant female voice said in a monotone. I looked over to see Celeste behind the register, flipping through a sheaf of papers on a clipboard.

  “Good morning,” I said.

  “Good—” That was as far as she got before she finally looked up. “Saylor! Sorry, I was focused on my BOGO.”

  “BOGO?” I asked.

  “Daily discounted item,” she replied. “Which today is . . . sticky buns.”

  Indeed, there was a display across from the register: they were buy one, get one, fifty cents each. “That’s a bargain.”

  “I guess, if you like sticky buns.” She sighed, putting down the clipboard. “What brings you in so early?”

  “
Couldn’t sleep,” I said. “I’m leaving today.”

  “I heard.” She cocked her head to the side, smiling. “But at least you aren’t going far. Thank goodness. I don’t think Bailey could take it if you were going home for good.”

  That answered the question of whether she’d been told about our argument. “I wasn’t sure I’d see you,” I said. “I wanted to come say goodbye.”

  “Goodbye?” She came out from behind the counter, adjusting her CONROY MARKET apron. Beneath it, she was wearing jean shorts and, again, platform wedges with a thick heel, showcasing her bright toenails. “You’re only going to the other side of the lake, though, right?”

  “Yeah,” I replied. “But it won’t be the same.”

  “Oh, honey.” She reached out, pulling me in for a hug. Her grip was still strong, but this time I leaned into it, holding on tightly as well. “Even if you were going all the way back to Lakeview, you couldn’t get rid of us that easily. You’re stuck with us now. You know that, right?”

  I nodded, worried that a verbal response might get me teary again. “I’m sorry, Celeste.”

  She loosened her grip, holding me out away from her and looking at my face. “Sorry? Whatever for?”

  “For never coming here before,” I said. “All those years since my mom died. I didn’t realize . . . what I was missing.”

  “How could you have?” She shook her head. “Honey. I know all you kids think you are long grown, but you are still children, for the most part. Which means adults make the decisions. The road runs both ways. We could have come to you.”

  “But you didn’t,” I said, and as she opened her mouth to protest, I added, “because of my dad, and how he probably would have reacted. He could have brought me here, too.”

  She gave one of my arms a hard squeeze. “Now, now. Family is complicated. You factor in a loss that’s particularly hard to bear and it just makes it more so. I’m sure it wasn’t your dad’s intent to keep you from us. Being a parent is tough. Being a single parent, sometimes impossible. He was just doing the best he could.”

  “Which now is two weeks at the Tides,” I said.

  “Hard punishment.” She smiled. “And, as we said, three miles from here and a place we all are dying to see in person. Good luck keeping us away. You can’t.”

  “Bailey was excited when I told her,” I said.

  “That child and the other side of the lake. It’s like your mom, all over again. I couldn’t keep her here even if I wanted. And I do, especially after what happened with that boy.”

  There was a chime as the front door opened and a tall, slouching guy with a nose piercing came in. “Morning,” he mumbled, more into his collar than to us.

  “Morning, Edgar,” Celeste replied. Once he ambled past us behind the counter, she added, “Bless his heart. I’ve never seen anyone move so slowly. It’s like a glacier or something.”

  Just then, somewhere, a phone began to ring. Edgar didn’t seem to notice.

  “I’ve got to take this, hold on a sec,” Celeste said with a sigh.

  “I should go,” I told her. “I have packing to do.”

  “All right, then.” She pulled me in for another hug, the phone still ringing. “You come back anytime, you hear? To Mimi’s or the Station or even here. We’ll be waiting.”

  “Thank you,” I said. The phone was starting to make me nervous, but she squeezed me again before walking to the door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY and disappearing inside.

  Which left just Edgar and me. Outside, a truck pulled in, a bunch of guys in orange T-shirts saying DOT piling out. I was going to slip out as they came in, but right by the door I saw a shelf lined with loaves of bread, which gave me an idea.

  I grabbed three of them, then crossed to the coolers lining the wall, scanning the groceries there until I found the tubs of butter. I took one and then, after thinking about it, another, adding them to what was already in my arms as I walked over to the register to pay. When I got home, I’d put it all where everyone at Mimi’s could find it. Like the dishes, they’d notice or wouldn’t. But either way, there would be plenty of toast for a while. Maybe it was the best way to say goodbye.

  Gordon swung her feet back and forth on the bench where we both sat, by the Calvander’s office. It was eight thirty a.m. and my dad would be here any minute.

  Back at the house, everyone else would be finally waking up and eating breakfast, maybe even breaking into the loaves I’d bought at Conroy’s earlier. I’d had enough of farewells for one day, though, so I’d taken my duffel and the rest of my stuff up here to wait. If it was true what Celeste and Mimi had both said, I wasn’t really leaving anyway, just changing locations. Even so, I hadn’t wanted to deal with seeing Bailey after our argument, preferring to leave as I’d arrived, basically alone. But then Gordon showed up.

  She moved silently, like a cat: I hadn’t even realized she was approaching until she was right beside me. She was in a purple terry-cloth romper, her pink plastic jelly sandals on her feet. In her hand she carried an Allies book.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, once I’d gotten over being startled.

  “Waiting.”

  She slid onto the bench beside me, putting the book squarely in her lap. “I will too, then.”

  Behind me, I heard the familiar sound of Mimi’s screen door banging shut. I tensed, sure it was Bailey, but when I looked, I saw Jack instead, crossing the grass to his car. A moment later, he pulled up next to us.

  “What are you two doing?” he asked.

  “Waiting,” Gordon told him.

  “For what?”

  “My dad,” I said. “I’m leaving today.”

  “Leaving?” He raised his eyebrows. “You’re going home?”

  “No.” Another car drove by, an older VW, the muffler sputtering. “To Lake North.”

  He considered this as Gordon picked up her book. “But you’ll come back to visit, right? I mean, it’s only three miles.”

  The was true. But sometimes even the shortest distance can be impossible to navigate, whether you went road or shore or some other route. In all her recovery attempts, my mom had never lived far from us. But sometimes, when someone’s not right there, they might as well be a million miles away.

  “I’ll be back at some point,” I said to Jack. “You’ll see me before I leave for good.”

  “Let’s make sure of it,” he told me. “Come to Taylor’s birthday party. We’re planning it as we speak.”

  “Am I invited?” Gordon asked.

  “No. Sorry.” She slumped, disappointed. To me he said, “It’ll be at April’s this weekend. Bailey will give you the details.”

  “I’m not sure I’ll see her,” I said as the A/C unit cut off. Just like that, I was shouting. I lowered my voice. “We had an argument.”

  “You’re cousins. It happens,” he said, sounding hardly bothered. “Ask Trinity. Or Roo. Or anyone, really. No gifts, but beer is welcome.” He looked at Gordon. “You didn’t hear that.”

  “Hear what?” she said. I couldn’t tell if she was being clever or just hadn’t been listening that closely.

  “And you,” Jack said, turning to me. “Don’t be a stranger, because you aren’t. You hear?”

  Hear what, I wanted to say to be funny, but this was so unexpectedly sweet I found myself instead just nodding.

  “And don’t stay in Lake North too long,” he added, starting to roll forward. “It’s different over there.”

  I thought of that first night I’d crossed the lake with Bailey. The world changed in those three miles, for sure. Would I?

  “I’ll be careful,” I promised him. “Thanks, Jack.”

  He smiled, then gave me a salute with two fingers, stuck his tongue out at Gordon, and pulled away. As he started to accelerate, he beeped, and I waved. Finally, not a stranger anymore.

  I was watching him disappear around a curve, thinking this, when I saw my dad’s silver Audi approaching. Even though I’d missed him, and was excited to see
Tracy, I felt my heart sink a bit.

  “Is that them?” Gordon asked.

  “Yep.”

  A moment later, they were pulling in and parking, so I picked up my bag and purse and got to my feet. Gordon did the same, carrying her book, and we walked over together.

  “Emma!” Tracy called out, jumping out and rushing over to give me a big hug. She had on a white sundress, all the better to emphasize a deep tan. “I missed you!”

  “I missed you, too,” I said, meaning it. “How was the trip?”

  “An adventure,” she replied. “I can’t wait to tell you all about it.”

  “And if you’re worried about her not having enough pictures, don’t,” my dad said as he walked over to join us. “The entirety of Greece was fully and thoroughly documented.”

  “Oh, stop,” Tracy said as he gave me a once-over—did I look as different as I felt?—before pulling me in for a hug. “Everyone takes pictures on vacation.”

  “True,” he said, smoothing a hand over my head, “but not everyone chooses to spend the entire trip seeing things solely through the camera lens. Who’s this?”

  I’d temporarily forgotten Gordon, who was still right beside me. “Dad, meet Anna Gordon. My cousin.”

  Hearing this, Gordon looked pleased. But I knew the name you used first was the one people remembered.

  “Well, hello, Anna Gordon,” my dad said, extending a hand. She took it, shyly, not meeting his eyes. “It’s nice to meet you. Is Celeste your mom?”

  “No,” I said. “Amber. From Joe’s side.”

  “Amber,” he repeated, still shaking Gordon’s small hand. “Right. I remember her.”

  “And this is Tracy,” I said to Gordon. “My . . . stepmom.”

  At this, Tracy and I both looked at each other. “Wow,” she said with a smile. “That’s the first time I’ve heard that. I like it.”

  “Me too,” I said.

  She bent down a bit. “So, Anna Gordon. What are you reading?”

  Gordon held out her book. “It’s the Allies series.”

  “That’s the chimpanzees, right?” Tracy took the book, flipping it over. “I have patients who are nuts for these books.”

  Gordon looked at me. “Tracy and Dad are both dentists,” I explained.