The Cursed Series, Parts 3 & 4: Now We Know/What They Knew

by Rebecca Donovan

  I can’t handle it. Mostly because I don’t believe it. I like looking pretty and wearing feminine clothes. I may not be able to buy the current trends from the mall stores like they do in the movies—or as my friends from Oaklawn do—but I’ve gotten pretty good at finding the hidden, unwanted gems at consignment shops. Some of the clothes I find still have the original tags on them, and even though they’re a season or two behind, with the right alterations and accessories, I could easily pass for an Oaklawn girl … if I wanted. It’s why I’m certain I’ll be voted Most Likely to Go Somewhere for our senior class superlatives.

  Because I am.

  But first, I need to get out of this house. I roll my suitcase into the living room where Helen is still standing within the doorframe, not committing to completely entering the apartment. Now that she’s moved out, it’s like she’s making a point to not come back. Even though she only lives up a flight of stairs.

  “You’ll have to pick me up at seven when I get off in the morning,” my mother calls back, refusing to leave the dishes long enough to have a civil conversation in the same room as her daughter.

  Helen grumbles something. “Fine.” She’s about to slam the door when she glances at me. Her lip curls up in a sneer of distaste. “Where are you going? Is there a Homemakers of America convention this weekend?”

  I huff at her blatant objection of my pink pleated tweed skirt and floral satin blouse. I think I look cute with my knee-high socks and white patent leather Mary Janes. This is the last weekend I can wear them.

  “I’m going to Nantucket with the Harrisons,” I reply dismissively. And my nose may have turned up ever so slightly at her reply.

  “Of course you are. Pretending to fit into a world you don’t belong to, as usual.”

  I scoff. “And what male-bashing riot are you participating in this time? Did someone hold a door open for you and completely offend you?”

  “Enough,” my mother barks, wiping her hands on a towel as she walks in from the kitchen. “That’s bullshit, and you know it. You girls can have and stand up for any damn life you want. No one here has to pretend to be anything. Just because you’re in college, it doesn’t mean you don’t have plenty to learn.” She shoots Helen a look, but before I can be too smug about it, my mother redirects her hard glare at me. “And if your sister wants to stand up for an injustice, regardless of what she believes in, then she has every right to do so. We don’t all believe in the chivalristic bullshit you do.”

  I cross my arms and purse my lips, matching Helen’s scowl. I can see her fighting back whatever insult she feels I deserve. But we both know it’s useless once Mom intercedes. My sister and I could not be any more opposite if we tried. It’s amazing we grew up in the same house, only a year and a half apart. It feels more like we were raised on different planets.

  “The Harrisons should be here any moment to pick you up. You might as well wait for them on the front porch. What time will you be back on Monday?”

  “I’m not sure which ferry they booked, but they usually leave in the morning. So I should be back in the afternoon sometime.”

  “Enjoy your weekend,” she says before walking back into the kitchen, “but don’t forget where you came from.”

  Like I ever could.

  But I know she’s not talking about privilege. She’s talking about the constant reminder not to trust anyone, especially men. My mother is extremely jaded when it comes to letting people get close to her. Ever since our father left her with three girls under four to run off to who knows where with someone older with nothing but the clothes on his back.

  I’m not sure what bothers my mother the most—that the woman was ten years older than her or that she was as dirt poor as we are. It doesn’t make sense … unless he really loved her. And there’s no way my mother can ever be convinced of that. Instead, she thinks the woman lied to our father, convinced him she could give him something my mother couldn’t … like a son. Or a chance at wealth. Or … I don’t know exactly—this is usually where I start blanking out, not able to listen to her go on about how men are untrustworthy. To never believe a single word, especially if they tell you they love you. She makes love sound like it’s a weapon of mass destruction.

  I’m sorry he hurt her. I really am. But not every man is like my father. And I honestly can’t be angry with him if he left for love. Love is the only thing we’re meant to experience in this life, and if he had to leave my mother to find it, I want that for him. It just stinks that we’ll never see him again because of my mother’s wrath. I refuse to believe he intended to leave his girls behind forever.

  I half-carry and half-drag my suitcase down the stairs with Helen looking on silently from the landing, not offering to help. I’d never expect her to. And just as I roll it out onto the front steps, the Harrisons’ shiny silver Lexus SUV pulls into the driveway.

  I smile brightly as the driver’s door opens, hoping the back door will as well. But I know Kaden’s not with them. He’s been on the island all week, and it wouldn’t make sense for him to come all this way just to sit with me on the ferry. But my heart still hopes.

  “Hi, Faye,” Mr. Harrison greets me, walking around the vehicle toward me. “Let me get that for you.” He takes my suitcase from me like it weighs nothing, and I follow him to the car.

  The passenger window rolls down as I approach. “Hi, Faye. Ready for this weekend?”

  “Hi, Mrs. Harrison,” I reply. “I’ve been looking forward to this weekend since we were there in July.”

  She laughs. “I’m sure you have. It’ll be nice to get away this one last time.” She rubs her belly that looks as round as a basketball.

  “Faye!” Parker shouts excitedly from the backseat.

  “Hi, sweet boy,” I say as I open the door and climb in next to him.

  He has his stuffed tiger in one hand and a small cup of his favorite cereal snack in his lap.

  “Want some?” he asks me, pinching a piece between his chubby fingers and holding it out to me.

  “Thank you so much for sharing.” I accept it and pretend to eat it as I toss it out before closing the door. I buckle and turn toward him. “Are you ready to go on the boat?”

  “Yes!” he hollers and kicks excitedly. “We’re going on the big boat!”

  I laugh.

  “He’s been just as excited to see you,” Mrs. Harrison tells me from the passenger seat. “But I’m sure there’s someone who’s even more excited.”

  “He’s called twice already, making sure we’re still on schedule,” Mr. Harrison adds with a chuckle.

  I can only beam. My heart flutters at just the mention of the boy I love.

  I was young and in love. The world was full of possibilities. And I was excited for what my future held. I had so many plans. Being in love with Kaden Harrison changed my life. It gave me hope.

  The four hours it takes to get to Nantucket feels like an eternity. And not because I’m bored. Parker keeps me entertained with his cute stories and need for attention, and Mrs. Harrison is engaging, asking about school and if I’m looking forward to the big transition next year. I can talk about what I’m doing after high school for forever. The places Kaden and I plan to visit. Where I’m hoping to attend college. I almost feel bad for them having to listen to me gush about it, except I can tell that Mrs. Harrison is truly happy for me. Mr. Harrison doesn’t say much. He never does though.

  I’m trying to contain myself as the island comes into view, wanting to be docked already. I lead Parker to the front of the ferry as we get closer, holding on to him as he stands on the bench, pointing at all the sailboats moored in the harbor.

  “Do you see Uncle Kaden?” I scan the faces along the dock, but they’re still too far away to decipher features.

  “Uncle Kaden!” Parker screams into the sea breeze, like he will be heard if he yells loud enough.

  I laugh. “Nice try, buddy,” I tell him. “Guess we’ll have to wait ’til we get there.”

  I f
idget as I pace, impatiently waiting our turn to deboard the boat, occasionally extending on my tiptoes and craning my neck in search of his beautiful face. As soon as my feet hit the planks of the dock, I see him standing off to the side, away from the line waiting to board. His smile sends sparks shooting through my chest. I run and practically jump into his open arms. Kaden lifts me off the ground, squeezing me tight. I know we’re attracting attention, but I don’t care. I’ve waited two excruciating months to be back in these arms. Another second would have killed me.

  His lips press against my neck.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” I murmur in his ear, still not ready to let go.

  “Oh, you have no idea,” he responds, squeezing me tighter.

  “Kaden, do you think you could put her down for a second to help with the luggage?” Niall asks from somewhere behind us.

  My cheeks flush with heat. Kaden chuckles, slowly setting me on my feet.

  “Yeah, of course,” he says, brushing a kiss against my temple before heading to the luggage carts being parked on the dock.

  Kaden and Mr. Harrison unload the suitcases from the cart with 28 marked on its blue tarp.

  I take hold of my own suitcase handle with one hand and Parker’s small hand with the other. He’s rolling his miniature Thomas the Train suitcase behind him, insistent that he can do it on his own. Kaden is pulling another that I presume to be Mrs. Harrison’s.

  “Uncle Kaden, we looked for you. Did you see us?” Parker asks as we weave through the pedestrians along the dock and onto the cobblestone sidewalk, which is filled with people perusing the shop windows or lingering outside the restaurants.

  “I was looking for you too, little guy,” Kaden tells him. “You’re hard to miss.”

  He winks at me, and I smile brightly in return.

  “Finally!” a girl exclaims when we reach the curb where a small line of taxis are queued.

  I see her instantly. “Maggie!” I call out. My instinctive reaction is to run to her, but I can’t leave Parker. So I wait for her to come to us, wrapping an arm around her as she squeezes me fiercely. “I thought you’d be at Riddles.”

  “I’m on break,” she tells me, stepping back. “This one”—she nods toward Kaden—“has been driving me crazy, waiting for you to arrive. You’d think he was in prison all week, being on this island without you. I think I’m pretty great company, but I guess I don’t compare to you.”

  “I wasn’t wallowing,” Kaden insists as we follow Mr. and Mrs. Harrison toward the parking lot where their on-island Range Rover is parked. “Besides, Julien was here as well. We kept plenty busy until he left this morning.”

  “Whatever you say,” Maggie says with a roll of her eyes. “I have to get back before my mother starts screaming my name … so embarrassing. I’ll come by tomorrow after I get off work around noon.”

  “Great! We have so much to catch up on,” I say with a knowing smile, wanting to hear all about the mysterious guy Maggie met at the beginning of the summer.

  When I was here for the Fourth, she wasn’t sure if she’d see him again. She was a bit devastated when he canceled last minute that weekend, claiming he had to stay in New York. But according to her recent letters, he’s planning to be on the island this weekend. I’m so curious, because she’s been reluctant with specifics about him, and that’s not like her. Although I do hear way too many intimate details, my face always flushes bright with each overshare. I’m not willing to do the same when she pries, asking what Kaden and I have done. I consider it sacred, only meant to be shared between us.

  “Bye, Maggie!” Parker yells after her before she can cross the street, not about to be ignored.

  “Bye, Parker! Don’t think I didn’t notice that you didn’t give me a kiss. You better have one for me when I see you tomorrow!”

  Parker giggles. She waves and continues down the cobblestone where her family owns a small store, Riddle Me This, which sells books among other novelty items off the main street. The Andersens have owned the store since her great-grandparents decided to take up permanent residence on the island. Which was actually around the time the Harrison family bought oceanfront property for their family to vacation on Nantucket, about a decade before the invasion of the millionaires who have claimed a water view of their own over the last fifty years.

  I love this island. I spent the entire summer here last year, nannying for the Harrisons. That’s how I met Maggie and Kaden—the two most important people in my life now. With Mrs. Harrison pregnant this summer, we’ve only been able to come to the island for a few weekends scattered throughout the summer. We usually fly, which is so much faster, but since she’s due in about two months, we were forced to take the ferry this time.

  I am so lucky that they hired me to babysit Parker for them at the beginning of my sophomore year. They found me through a babysitting course I took at the community center. I had to interview with them and everything. At first, I would come over after school while Mrs. Harrison was still at home, allowing her to study for her graduate degree while I played with Parker. Her mother would come over when she had to drive into Boston for classes while I was at school. Eventually, they asked me to babysit the nights they went out for dinner or to some fancy party for Mr. Harrison’s law firm. So when they asked if I’d nanny for them last summer on Nantucket, I almost died.

  Maggie was the first person I met, almost as soon as I arrived. I love reading, so I was automatically drawn to the quaint store with the fun name, hidden down a side street. It was my very first night on Nantucket. We were walking around, exploring the shops. She came right up to me and took the romance novel out of my hand, replacing it with a thriller I never would have considered.

  “I’m saving you,” she told me.

  And she did, but not with the book. I never got around to reading it. But her insertion into my life that summer opened me up to a bold and fascinating girl I never would’ve thought would like me, forget about become my closest friend.

  Then there was Kaden. Maggie claims to have seen him first—his family has been coming to the island every summer since before we were born. But I like to say that when I saw him, it was love at first sight. Maggie rolls her eyes every time I recite this. But it’s true. As soon as Kaden Harrison smiled at me, no one else existed. He was it. He still is, over a year later, regardless of the fact that we’ve hardly seen each other since he left for his first year of college in England, and I returned to Sherling at the end of last summer. We’ve written or talked on the phone practically every day since. Because when it’s true love, distance and time don’t matter.

  It was a little awkward when Maggie called “dibs” when we first saw him and his friend Eli on the beach. I told her it wasn’t up to us to decide. Especially since we hadn’t given him the chance to get to know us. He could like whoever he liked, and we needed to be accepting and not jealous of the other. I don’t know if I would’ve been as accepting of his decision had he liked Maggie instead of me. But Maggie shrugged it off and ended up flirting with his friend the entire week. And even after Eli left, there was some other tourist to attract her attention. That helped assuage the guilt since, obviously, her feelings for Kaden were as shallow as the tide pools where we searched for crabs with Parker. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t try to make me feel guilty for “taking him” from her. She says she’s teasing, but a small part of me wonders if she believes it.

  I haven’t let go of Kaden’s hand since we arrived. I’m still holding it as the car rocks and jostles along the cobblestone streets and then evens out on the paved roads to eventually bounce along the dirt road that becomes the private driveway to the Harrisons’ residences. The entire time, Kaden’s answering my questions, asking some in return and listening adoringly to Parker prattle on about the train he rode last week at the zoo. I’m smiling at him when we finally come to a stop, my heart so big in my chest, I feel it might explode.

  He catches the gleam in my eye and leans over to whisper,
“I can’t wait to be alone with you.”

  He presses a soft kiss to my lips, and I swear my heart does explode, like a thousand sparklers lighting up the night.

  “What can I help you with?” I hear a male voice ask from behind the SUV when Mr. Harrison pops the trunk.

  I’m lifting Parker out of his car seat when I also hear the distinct female voice coming from further up the walk, “Finally. I thought you would never get here.”

  “Oh, Auntie Cassandra is here,” I tell Parker, trying to sound excited while internally rolling my eyes.

  “We had to take the later ferry,” Mrs. Harrison explains with the patience of a saint to her pretentious younger sister. “But we’re here now. How are you feeling?”

  All I can see is Cassandra’s sheet of shiny blonde hair that falls in a perfect wave over one shoulder in an old-Hollywood glamour sort of way.

  I subconsciously twirl my pale blond ponytail through my fingers, wishing my hair had even a little of the sheen hers does. But then again, I’m sure she spends a lot of money for that gloss … and color. Mrs. Harrison’s hair is several shades darker than her sister’s golden locks.

  I help Parker hop down from the car.

  “Come here, you little monster,” Cassandra calls to him with arms spread wide.

  Instead of running to her, Parker hides behind my legs, clutching my skirt, peeking out like he’s waiting for her to leave.

  “Why so shy?” Mrs. Harrison asks him in a cooing voice. “You’re never shy, Parker.”

  And it’s true. Parker is usually outspoken, even to perfect strangers.

  A little boy cut in line at the playground last week, and he had no qualms telling him, “You’re not making good choices!”

  I tried so hard not to laugh. Confidence is definitely not this little guy’s issue. So … it’s probably Cassandra.

  “I don’t blame you,” I murmur under my breath as I crouch down to pick him up.

  Mr. Harrison, Kaden and a guy I’ve never seen before—probably Cassandra’s latest fling—move past us, each carrying a suitcase.