The Lies We Told

by Diane Chamberlain

  “I don’t have a cell phone right now,” I said. “I’ll get one as soon as I can.”

  I knew as I walked back to Simmee’s room, though, that replacing my BlackBerry would be one of the last items on my very long list of things I needed to do.

  45

  Rebecca

  “SHE DIDN’T SOUND AFRAID,” REBECCA SAID AS THEY BOUNCED over the potholes on Route 17.

  “She knows she’s safe now,” Adam said, “and she knows we’re on our way.”

  They were still shell-shocked. There’d been the mad scramble to find a car. Dorothea’d made a few phone calls and finally discovered that the old Honda parked next to the school belonged to one of the volunteers, a seventy-year-old widower moved to tears when he heard the news. “Keep it as long as you like,” he’d said, pressing the keys into Adam’s hand.

  Adam’s duffel bag was in the backseat, and it contained all he’d brought to Wilmington with him. Rebecca knew he wouldn’t be returning to the school. Everything was going to change yet again.

  “How will you get home from Fayetteville?” she asked. Her throat was so tight, it was hard to speak.

  “I’m going to call a limo company,” he said, and she could tell he’d been thinking about it. Planning it. “I don’t know what she’s been through, but I’m sure she’ll need some creature comforts.”

  “Right,” she said. She watched the countryside open up on either side of the road and thought about how, only a few hours earlier, she’d nearly made love to him. They’d come so close. She looked over at him now, letting out her breath. “Thank God we didn’t—”

  “No kidding,” he said, before she could finish the sentence. Then he glanced at her, reaching over to touch her hand. “You mean so much to me, Bec.”

  She couldn’t speak, but she managed a nod.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I’m all right.”

  Adam returned his hand to the steering wheel. “What a roller coaster, these last couple of weeks, huh?”

  They fell quiet again, Adam going over the speed limit now that they were traveling on a well-paved highway. Rebecca pictured Maya’s blond hair. The cornflower-blue of her eyes. The way she’d tilt her head a bit to one side as she listened intently to what someone had to say. Rebecca wanted to leave Wilmington, too. She wanted to spend time with her sister, but she needed to stay at the school until both she and Adam could be replaced. Besides, she wanted some time to herself. She had to clear the past few weeks, with their fantasies and longings and craziness, from her mind.

  As she had in the ambulance a couple of days earlier, she watched Adam’s face as he drove. He was lost in his own thoughts, and she saw the smile raising the corners of his lips. She felt an unwelcome ache in her heart.

  It was possible to feel two wildly conflicting emotions at the same time, she realized. Remembering Maya’s phone call and the life in her voice filled her with joy. Watching Adam, though, with that smile on his face as he thought about reuniting with his wife, hurt her to the core. The closeness they’d shared. The hope she’d allowed herself to feel for a future with him. She would have to pretend it had never existed.

  There were joys and sorrows that couldn’t be measured. She would savor the joy and brush the sorrow aside, she thought, as she wiped away the tear that burned the corner of her eye. Adam had never been hers to begin with.

  Maya, though. Maya would be her sister, always.

  46

  Maya

  “THAT POLICE LADY WAS NICE.” SIMMEE WAS SMILING NOW, HER relief palpable in the air of the hospital room. She’d nursed the baby, but was still holding him. She couldn’t get enough of him, and it was as though she was afraid that if she put him in the bassinet at the side of her bed, someone might wheel him away for good.

  “They’re on your side,” I said.

  “Yeah,” she agreed.

  Her roommate had visitors and, from behind the curtain, we could hear voices chattering happily in Spanish.

  “Is that real Spanish?” Simmee whispered to me, and it occurred to me that she’d probably never met a Spanish-speaking person in her life.

  “Uh-huh,” I said.

  “I heard people speak Spanish on TV,” she said. “Some of ’em could speak Spanish and English. They must be real smart.”

  I smiled. “You can learn Spanish some day, if you like,” I said.

  “Me?” Her face was a mixture of disbelief and hope. I needed to be careful not to allow my own hope for her raise impossible expectations. She had a way to go before she’d master English. But she had potential. I had no idea where it would lead her. All I knew was that I wanted it to lead her someplace wonderful.

  “Maya!”

  Rebecca and Adam burst into the room, and I got to my feet, grinning and holding out my arms. Rebecca reached me first, pulling me into a bear hug. She sobbed against my neck. I couldn’t ever remember seeing her cry like that before. Adam’s embrace, when Rebecca finally let go of me, was quieter, tighter, more intense. I felt his arms around me like bands of steel. He couldn’t seem to speak.

  “I’m all right,” I reassured him. “I’m fine.”

  He finally drew away from me, his eyes wet, his hand still on my arm as if he wasn’t about to risk losing me again. I smiled at him. At my sister.

  Then I turned to Simmee, who still had not put Jack back in the bassinet. “Adam and Rebecca, I’d like you to meet Simmee Blake. She’s been taking care of me for the past couple of weeks.”

  “We been takin’ care of each other,” Simmee corrected me.

  Rebecca walked to the side of Simmee’s bed and held out her hand. “Thank you, Simmee,” she said. “I understand you’ve had quite an adventure today.” She nodded toward Jack. On the phone, I’d told her and Adam the bare facts: I’d helped Simmee give birth and then we escaped from her abusive husband via boat. There’d been no time to tell them anything more.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Simmee said. “You could say that.”

  Adam acknowledged her with a nod, his hand still on my arm. “Let’s go to the cafeteria and catch up,” he said.

  “All right,” I agreed, but I saw the alarm in Simmee’s eyes. “I’ll be back,” I said. “Let me put Jack in the bassinet for you and you get some sleep. I know you’re exhausted.”

  She looked down at her baby, then nodded reluctantly. I lifted him from her arms and set him carefully in the bassinet, pushing it close to her so that she could touch him. I knew she was afraid to close her eyes. Afraid he would disappear if she didn’t guard him.

  “Sleep, honey,” I said. “I’ll be back soon.”

  In the cafeteria, Adam bought coffee for Rebecca and himself and, after I mentioned that I hadn’t eaten all day, a tuna salad sandwich for me. I told them everything: My vague memory of the crash. Tully’s account of how he rescued me. My injuries. Lady Alice. Simmee nursing me those first few days. The hidden boat and our escape.

  Adam moved his chair right next to me as I talked, holding my free hand. From across the table, Rebecca kept reaching over to touch me, too, as if assuring herself that I was not an apparition. I tried to lighten the horror of my ordeal because I could see that they had suffered at least as much as I had, if not more. They’d thought I was dead. I tried, but I couldn’t quite grasp what the days had been like for them.

  “I’m sorry you had to go through all this,” Adam said. “I’m sorry I guilted you into coming. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

  “Adam,” I said, both touched and shaken by his melodramatic tone. “I promise you, I’m okay.”

  “Rebecca and I talked on the way here,” he said. “She needs to go back to Wilmington, but I’m calling a limo to take you and me home to Raleigh.” He smiled. “How does that sound?”

  “Oh,” I said. He was way ahead of me, moving in a direction I hadn’t even considered. I hadn’t thought of going home yet, much as I longed to be there. “They’re keeping Simmee overnight, so I thought I’d get a hotel
room close by.” Then I added, almost as an afterthought, “Will you stay with me?”

  “Don’t you want to go home ASAP?” Adam looked surprised.

  “What will happen to her?” Rebecca asked. “The girl? Simmee? She’s only seventeen, right? Will CPS take over?”

  I drew in a long breath. What was so clear in my mind wasn’t going to be clear in either of theirs.

  “I’ve gotten very close to her,” I said. “I’d like her to come home with me.” I looked at Adam. “With us. I’ve spoken with CPS about it. I can’t let her and the baby go into foster care.”

  Neither of them spoke. I had the distinct feeling they wanted to look at each other, but instead they kept their eyes on mine.

  “They have special homes for teen moms and their babies,” Rebecca said finally. She sounded as though she was talking to a ten-year-old. “That would really be best for her.”

  “I don’t want her to go into any sort of home.” I faced my husband. “I know this is asking a lot of you, Adam,” I said. “You wanted your wife back, not your wife, a teenager and a baby.” I actually laughed. “But this is very important to me.”

  “You’ve only known her two weeks.” Adam frowned.

  “A lot can happen in two weeks,” I said. The cells in your body could rearrange themselves in two weeks, I thought. They could change you from weak to strong. I remembered Tully raising his rifle as Simmee and I sped across the water earlier that day. I hadn’t even ducked. All I’d thought about was getting Simmee and the baby away from him. “I know it’s hard for you to understand how important she’s become to me,” I said, “but she has.”

  “Yes, but it’s ridiculous to have her move in with you.” Rebecca was shaking her head as though I’d lost my mind. “I don’t think you get what this has been like for Adam,” she said. “I know it’s been no picnic for you, either, but he thought you were dead, Maya, and I think this is…I think you’re really being selfish.”

  Adam put his hand on Rebecca’s arm. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he said to her, almost in a whisper, and I had a glimpse into their world from the past two weeks. They’d been there for each other, sharing their worry and their grief. They had always been close; now they were closer. Sitting with them, I suddenly felt a bit like an outsider, but that was all right. I was glad they’d had each other. That neither of them had had to go through it alone.

  “Look,” Adam said to me. “I’ll talk to Protective Services, all right? I’ll make sure she’s safe and that she’s placed someplace where she gets the care she needs and where she can learn how to take care of a baby and—”

  “Adam,” I interrupted him. “I need to do this. And not just for a day, or a couple of days. I’m going to help her. She has no one.” Maybe Rebecca was right. Maybe I was being selfish. But I knew what I wanted: No more fertility treatments. No more pregnancies. I wanted to explore adoption. And I wanted to take care of Simmee for as long as she needed me. So was that being selfish? It felt more like I was finally being honest. With them. With myself.

  Adam let out his breath in frustration. “I just want us to be together right now, Maya. Home together. The last thing I want is to share you with a stranger.”

  “Maya.” Rebecca leaned toward me, her voice softer now. “You’ve been through so much. I get that you’re overwhelmed. I think you need a break from everything you’ve been through.” She shook her head. “God knows how much of that accident you witnessed and the impact it had on you. Then being trapped on an island with a madman. Trust me, honey. This isn’t the time to make a big decision. You need some downtime just to focus on recovery.”

  Adam nodded. “You’re like…I know this isn’t exactly the same, but you know when someone is kidnapped and after they’re found, they need to be deprogrammed, and—”

  “She doesn’t need to be deprogrammed,” Rebecca said. “It’s just that she—”

  “I know it’s the wrong word,” Adam interrupted her. “She needs time, that’s all. Time to settle back into her life.”

  “She shouldn’t go back to work right away, either,” Rebecca said.

  “Don’t even think of it,” Adam added.

  “She needs a vacation,” Rebecca said.

  “No, not a vacation,” Adam said. “But not work, either. Just time at home with me and Chauncey until she feels safe and secure again.”

  I listened to them scrambling all over each other, talking about me as if I weren’t sitting in front of them, trying to fix me. Trying to make me who they were most comfortable with me being. Now I felt trapped—maybe more trapped than I had at Last Run Shelter. They were pushing me into my old role. My protective sister. My take-charge husband. The guy who wanted his own child at all costs. Good people, both of them, but in two weeks’ time, I’d left that old role behind. The realization made me smile.

  “Hey, you two!” I said so loudly a couple of people at the next table turned to stare. “Cut it with the third person. I’m alive and I’m right here.”

  They looked at me as if suddenly realizing that fact.

  “I know you both love me,” I said, “but listen to yourselves. Right now, I think I’m the only one of the three of us who is thinking straight. I’m the only one who knows what she really needs.”

  “But you don’t know,” Adam said. “If you think bringing that girl home with—”

  “Listen to me!”

  Two pairs of brown eyes widened in my direction.

  “I’m doing this. I’m taking care of Simmee. I’d love your support, but I’m taking care of her with it or without it.” I looked at Rebecca. “You of all people should understand. You wouldn’t let me go into foster care.”

  “You were my sister. That was totally different.”

  I thought of Simmee. I pictured her exhausted in her bed in the maternity unit, one hand on the baby’s bassinet, afraid to let go of him for even an instant.

  “She’s…she’s my sister. My daughter. My friend.” I looked at Rebecca. “I know you’re trying to take care of me,” I said. “But I’m thirty-four years old. I’m not your needy little sister anymore. I don’t need your protection. But that girl in the maternity unit? She needs mine.”

  Rebecca reached across the table to take my hand. “I love you,” she said.

  “And I love both of you so much.” I squeezed her hand, then let go. “But we’ve been living a lie. All of us.” I looked at my husband. “I’ve been so afraid of losing you that I’ve tried to be someone I’m not. I wanted a baby, too, Adam. So much. But I would have given my body and my…my heart a rest from that struggle long ago if I weren’t trying so hard to hold on to you.”

  He frowned again. “Maya…”

  “And Becca.” I started to say that I’d never told her the truth about the night of our parents’ murders. About my relationship with Zed. The abortion. But now was not the time. Now was the time for me to go back to Simmee’s room, because while my husband and sister were nursing their own fears, Simmee was the one whose fear was most grounded in reality. And I realized, with no small surprise, that I was the one who felt no fear at all.

  Epilogue

  Maya

  One Year Later

  FROM THE NURSERY, WHERE I’VE COME TO RETRIEVE JACK’S stuffed elephant, Lucky, I can see our backyard. The green, leafy wall of trees surrounds the grassy ellipse, where we’ve set the picnic table with paper plates and plastic cups. Lawn chairs dot the yard, and there’s baby gear everywhere. Simmee invited three of her friends and their toddlers over to celebrate Jack’s first birthday with us, and I smile as I watch one of them shoo Chauncey away from her diaper bag. Chauncey gives up and saunters over to the grill, where Rebecca is in charge of the burgers and hot dogs. I see her say something to the dog. I imagine she’s telling him he doesn’t stand a chance at getting a tidbit tossed his way, but I know Chauncey’s big brown eyes will get to her sooner or later.

  Adam is bent over slightly, holding Jack’s hands as the little boy walks a
long the edge of the yard, exploring the garden. Jack tips his head back to look up at him, and Adam lets go of one of his hands to point at a daylily. Jack will be walking by himself in a week or two, I predict. He’s the sort of baby people can’t help but coo over. His skin is the color of my cream-laced morning coffee and his eyes are a pale amber, but it’s his smile that captivates strangers on the street. There’s a bit of the devil in that smile, and as tough as this year has been for all of us, I think Simmee has some tougher years ahead of her with her rambunctious little son.

  Simmee’s kneeling next to one of her friends, playing with the friend’s baby, but she has her eye on Jack. She’s an overprotective mother, but who can blame her? She’s in a program with other teen moms, including the three here at Jack’s party, learning how to be a good parent. She’s way ahead of most of those girls in the parenting department, but she still has plenty to learn about living in the twenty-first century. She’s a quick study, though. Adam bought her a computer to help with her schoolwork as she studies for her GED, and she figured out Facebook faster than Adam, Rebecca and me put together. She started with her little circle of friends from the teen moms group, and yesterday she told me she has over one hundred, which would scare me if I weren’t so proud of her. Adam gave her the “be careful on the Internet” lecture, and I know she was listening, because she said she doesn’t want her real name out there. Period. I think she still has nightmares about Tully, but I don’t. Tully is locked up forever.

  No one lives at Last Run Shelter now, at least not that anyone knows of. Larry finally persuaded Lady Alice to move in with him and his family. I don’t know how he did it; I only know that I’m glad he did. We’ve visited her twice at Larry’s. Lady Alice, Larry, his wife, Emma Lorraine, and their two teenage sons are Jack’s family, and they accept Simmee and the baby to varying degrees. Lady Alice, of course, dotes on her grandson.

  I hear Rebecca call to Simmee and her friends, and the girls begin to stand, gathering up their kids as they head toward the grill. I guess the burgers are done. I reach into Jack’s crib for Lucky and head for the stairs.