There is a lot of silence on the ride home. My mind runs through everything I can think of that Mr. Meyer might try to use to destroy me. I’m 17-years-old, what can he do? Then my imagination begins to get the best of me and all I hear is Marcus’ warning about unimaginable things.
“What do you think he’s going to do?” I ask about the man who seems to hold my fate in his hands. “I mean…he’s not going to…hurt me, like, physically, is he?”
“He’s more of a break-you-down-until-you-can’t-take-it-anymore kind of guy. He usually doesn’t have to get too nasty because the financial payoff is enough to make whatever, or whoever, go away,” Luke answers.
“Well…I’m not going anywhere. What does he expect me to do?” I’m annoyed.
“He expects you to leave,” Claire offers.
“Well…that’s just…I mean…that’s not going to happen,” I say flustered. I don’t know how I’m going to do it, but I will stand my ground and take whatever Gregory Meyer throws at me. I’ve been to hell and back in my life already, so I’m sure I can handle the Devil himself.
Luke and Claire carry a lot of hushed conversation on the drive home. I turn up the volume on my iPod, letting their conversation remain as private as possible. I don’t want to focus on the potential terror. I want to enjoy having Will and his love. I want to enjoy not having to pretend anymore. I want to enjoy the freedom…however fleeting it may be.
*****
It’s been months since Will and I took our usual seats at the end of the dock. It’s nice to sit here with him knowing that we aren’t hiding. The moon is full again, the way it had been so many times during our first evenings here, but the mood is different. Will is distant, and deep in thought.
“He’s right, you know,” he says, breaking the silence.
“Who’s right?”
“Luke. He’s right about my father. He’s not going to give up, Layla. He’s never going to make this easy, and if it looks like it is, it’s a trap. We can’t be too careful,” he says putting his arm around me protectively. It makes the moment feel somewhat normal. Being close to Will always makes things feel better, but there’s something different about it this time.
“Well, we’ll just have to do what we can until graduation, right? I’ve already been accepted to Florida State, and with your grades I’m sure you can still get in. We’ll go to Tallahassee and start over.” I’m hopeful, thinking this is a good idea.
“That’s great idea, in theory, but he’ll never allow it. He’ll block my acceptance into every other college or university except Princeton. With his connections, I won’t be able to audit a class at community college. He’d rather see me dead than let me do anything that might taint the perfect picture he’s painted of himself.
“But I’ll figure this out, Layla. I promise. I’m not going to let him hurt you or your family. You are everything to me and I would lay down my life to protect you.” Will holds me tighter and I lay my head on his shoulder. We sit there in the moonlit glow and listen to the water ripple and the leaves of the trees rustle in the wind. This is my happy place, but it’s being tainted by Gregory Meyer. I hate him. I hate what he’s done to Will. I hate how he’s made my personal renaissance his personal fight.
By midweek word has gotten out at school about Will’s very public profession of his feelings for me. There are mixed reviews. Some don’t care any more or less about me than they did before. They happily ignore me as equally as they have from the start. Some are even more disgusted with me and make rude comments as Will and I pass by them. “Slumming it, Will?” some say as we walk through the halls hand-in-hand. But, shockingly enough, some are actually happy for us, although they never make it public knowledge. By the end of the day on Friday I have fifteen notes stuffed into my locker, all with sweet sentiments and praises for our bravery.
“So happy for you and Will. He’s a real catch!”
“I wish I was a brave as you. Well done!”
“You two make a perfect couple. I hope I have as much courage as you one day.”
I’m thrilled to know that my circle of supporters, however silent they may be, extends beyond Will and our four friends. It’s still a weird feeling, though. It doesn’t seem fair that it took an act of heroism for two people to be together. If there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that life isn’t fair.
*****
“I have a surprise for you,” Luke says as he knocks on the open door of my room.
“A surprise?” I ask.
“Today is your birthday, or did you forget?” he says.
“I didn’t forget. You just didn’t have to do anything,” I say sheepishly.
“It’s your eighteenth birthday and it’s a big deal. Just get over here!” Luke grins and takes me by the hand and leads me into the kitchen where Will and Claire are waiting.
“What’s going on?” They’re all smiling, indicating that I’m the only one out of the loop. Will pulls a sleep-mask out of his pocket and instructs me to put it on.
“Are we taking naps, because that actually sounds like a great idea,” I jest.
Will smirks and hands me the mask. I do as I’m told and Will takes me by the hand. Even without looking, I know the soft strength of Will’s hand. He leads me downstairs and I realize that today I will finally see the project he and Luke have been working on since I arrived in this life-changing town. I can’t imagine what they could have done down there that would be for me. Whatever it is, I’m already grateful because I know I certainly don’t deserve it.
We reach the bottom of the stairs and Will takes me five more steps ahead and turns me around. It smells fresh and new. The scent of fresh paint and new upholstery fills the room. I feel the tight weaving of Berber carpet under my bare feet. The room is silent except for the excited breaths of Will, Luke, and Claire.
“Before you take your blindfold off, I want you to know how much you mean to Claire and me. This room is just one small way that we can express how much we love you. We know it was a big adjustment coming to live here, and we couldn’t be happier that you did. We hope you love this room as much as we do,” Luke says, starting to get a little choked up near the end.
I take my mask off and am astonished by what I see, so much so that I feel the trembling that precedes a gush of emotions. I take a deep breath and push it down until I can at least take in the whole of my gift.
The huge room has been painted a subtle shade of khaki. There’s a plush couch and chair in light blue plaid with a captain’s wheel coffee table and a wicker rug under it. Starfish, sand dollars, and blown sand glass spot the walls and decorative tables. The whole room has been designed in a beach theme…just for me. It’s overwhelming.
One small wall moves me more than the anything else. On it hang pictures of my parents and grandparents; both of their wedding pictures, and pictures of me with each of them. I trace my fingers around the frames in an attempt to connect with them. I remember how beautiful my mother was. My father used to say her smile was like an all-day sunrise. I see how my father is holding my mother and it makes me think of Will. He holds me the same way and in that moment I’m reassured that we’ll share that same kind of love forever, too.
An old fashioned chest is situated below the pictures. I look at Luke for permission to enter it and he nods. I lift the lid and start exploring. Inside are photos and letters. As I file through them I realize that the letters are between my grandfather and Luke, all postmarked after my grandmother’s death. He really did reach out to Gramps. Beneath them is a discovery that I never dreamed about. My mother’s wedding dress has been preserved in a box with a window in the lid. It’s beautiful, and so her. I always thought so every time I looked at their wedding album. Next to her dress is a small, black velvet box. I open it and the emotions I’ve been waiting to unleash cannot be held back any longer as I stare at my parents’ wedding rings.
“This is…more than wonderful. Thank you so much.” I wrap my arms around Luke tightly. Tears
are streaming down my face and I don’t try to wipe even one of them. “You did all this for me and I’ll be away at school in just a few months.”
“You couldn’t be more welcome. Every second spent working on this for you filled me with more joy than you can imagine,” he says, holding back tears of his own. “Don’t forget Will,” he says, diverting the attention from himself to Will.
“Thank you,” I say to Will, throwing my arms around his neck. “It means so much to me that you were a part of this.”
“My real gift to you is on its way,” he says stroking my hair. “But I’m glad you love it.”
“This is real gift enough. It’s so wonderful!” I say. “Claire! Where’s Claire?” I spin around to find her sitting on the stairs wiping tears from her face. “Claire. Thank you.” I sit next to her and hold her close.
“What are you thanking me for? I just picked out some furniture and paint,” she says wiping the tears that are spilling over her eyes.
“Why shouldn’t I thank you? You’re part of everything that has made my life here beautiful. You’re such a great mom. I’m so glad I have you.” Yes, Claire has become a mother to me. I accept and embrace that now without guilt or shame. I need parents, a mother and a father, and Luke and Claire have filled that position. Claire’s tears come harder now, and so does my hold on her.
We hold our embrace for a long time, neither of us wanting to let go. As we release, we look at each other, knowing that our lives will never be the same. Claire and I stand up, wipe our faces, and try to become presentable. Will takes my hand, and Luke takes Claire’s. We walk, as a family, up the stairs and into the kitchen.
Since it’s my birthday I decide that it’ll be a Chinese take-out and movie night. We call Chris, Tyler, Gwen, and Caroline and they are there within the hour to celebrate with us. It’s a normal night when nothing in the world is out of sync, and everything is wonderful.
*****
Will and I spend a lot of time in this more-than-just-a-basement. I tell him more and more about my parents and grandparents, and I can see that he understands me even better. It’s a release to tell him things, good and bad, that I’ve held back. I’m nervous to tell him about Gram and Gramps…Gram, really. I’m incredibly grateful to them for taking me in, but how do I explain that she didn’t let me grieve the loss of my parents; that, in fact, my grandmother blamed me for their death? I do tell him, and he shares in my sadness, wiping my tears as I explain every heartbreaking detail. He tells me I gave up too much and that now is my time to live. He, of course, understands that perfectly.
I’m both excited and nervous to tell Will about my parents. I can’t wait to tell him all the glorious details of how wonderful they were, but I’m afraid I won’t do them justice. They were imperfect people, but perfect parents to me. Once again, Will shows that he is able to understand me in ways no one ever will.
We look through old pictures that Luke made sure were in the chest with the letters and my mother’s wedding dress. With each photo I build the story of my life as a child and how absolutely wonderful my life was.
After my talk with Luke about the accident, I feel more confident in sharing that most hidden part of my past with Will. I tell him about that rainy night and the guilt I carried, even without the insensitive help of my grandmother. I tell him that I’m working through it and it’s not as overwhelming as it once was. And, again, he catches every tear.
Every day it gets better. Every day I take a step farther away from tragedy and closer to a life of sweet freedom.
Chapter 25
Claire and I just returned from picking up my prom dress from the seamstress and are starting dinner when the doorbell rings. I’m expecting Will so I run to the door to let him in. I open it and see Will standing there looking solemn…his father next to him.
Oh, my god. House Call.
“Hello, Miss Weston. I’d say it’s nice to see you again, but our last meeting left a bit of a sour taste in my mouth.” Mr. Meyer is sinister in his tone, and still finds a way to give me his creepy head to toe once-over. “Don’t be rude, dear, invite us in.”
I hold my composure and reply, “Won’t you please come in.” I look at Will for some indication of what is going on but get nothing.
We enter the kitchen and Claire is so startled at Mr. Meyer’s presence that she drops the glass she’s holding. It breaks into five easy pieces on the hardwood floor and I rush to help pick them up and throw them away.
“Gregory? This is a surprise. What can we do for you?” Claire has a cadence in her tone that I immediately recognize is reserved solely for him. It’s slow, steady, and full of reverence. She looks at me and then at the kitchen door and I know she’s telling me to get Luke from the office. I leave without hesitation and return in less than a minute with Luke leading the way.
“Hello, Luke. Well now that we’re all here, we can begin,” Mr. Meyer says coolly.
“What’s this about, Gregory?” Luke asks, knowing the answer, but he doesn’t answer Luke. He just stares at us and begins his closing argument.
“That was quite a show you gave, William. I didn’t realize you hated me enough to embarrass me in a room full of my associates, and a potential client,” he says with contempt. If this is the first Will is getting of this, I can’t imagine the tension that has been building at home.
“I don’t I hate you, Dad. I love Layla, and she is who I want. Is it so impossible for you to want me to be happy?” Will pleads.
He ignores Will and addresses me directly now. His complete and total disregard for Will makes my blood boil and only fuels my determination to not let him win.
“Miss Weston, do you have any idea the kind of young man my son is? No…he’s much too modest. You see William has an I.Q. of 185. He’s what’s considered profoundly gifted. At age 13 he turned down early acceptance to Princeton’s Civil and Environmental Engineering program. I was disappointed, but tried to understand. He wanted to live a normal life – go to school, have friends his own age. William promised to be diligent in his studies throughout high school, not slacking off because it was all so remedial to him. Then, when he graduated with the rest of his class, he would take his rightful place at Princeton. In the last year or so William has indicated he doesn’t intend to keep his promise, and I can’t allow that. So, what I need to know from you is what it’s going to take for you to leave William alone.”
“She’s not going anywhere,” Will says in my defense.
“Greg, all this is really unnecessary. They’re just kids.” Claire says. She’s calm but her stance is territorial. She’s a lion fighting for her cub.
“I’m sure Layla can answer for herself. Surely there’s something Layla wants. Perhaps she’d like the balance of her current, measly college fund doubled, or tripled. I understand it’s barely enough to cover a year or two at a state school. Or maybe it would mean more to her if I gave her aunt and uncle substantial increases to their salaries, or paid off their mortgage. I know…how about I pay for an indefinite amount of therapy so she can come to terms with the death of her parents.”
“STOP!” Will yells, but his father is unflinching. “Your problem is with me, not her!”
“Wrong,” Mr. Meyer corrects Will sharply. “Anything, including a girl as delicious as Miss Weston, that might distract you from your destiny is my problem, and I’m a problem-solver. I’ve solved this problem before, haven’t I, William?”
Holly.
“I don’t understand what Will and I being together has to do with whether he goes to Princeton or not. Even if Will wanted to go, I wouldn’t stop him.” I’m trying, in vain, to be reasonable even though I know that I’m failing with every breath.
“Miss Weston, what was your father like? Did he meet his full potential, or was he always reaching for more?” How dare you bring up my father! I scream in my head. He better make his discussion of my father brief or that could be the end of everything. “My father was a brilliant man, but he had one
weakness: women. Well, just one woman, my mother. My parents met when they were teenagers. Their farms were next to each other in a rural town, which is to say they lived a mile apart. He was smitten with her. I can’t blame him. She was beautiful in her younger days. They courted through high school and made a fine couple. When they graduated my father had the opportunity to get out of that small, going-nowhere town, and go to college. He was, as I said, a brilliant man, and could have been a brilliant doctor, but he chose to stay with my mother. They married right out of high school and I was born a year later. Growing up on the same farm my father did, I watched him grow old before his time, wasting away, working his fingers to the bone. I also watched my father grow angry and bitter. We worked hard and never had anything to show for it. He knew he had made the wrong choice. He substituted love for logic. I vowed that I would never live like that, and I’ll be damned if my son is going to repeat the mistakes of my father.
“You see, Miss Weston, this isn’t personal. It’s not about you. I quite like you, actually. You’ve got moxie. But…you just don’t fit into the plan for William’s success. I’ll ask you again what your price is. I’m prepared to do whatever I need to for you to leave my son alone.” Mr. Meyer speaks fluidly, like he does when he practices his closing argument. He knows what he wants and he isn’t going to back down. The problem for him is, neither am I.
“Mr. Meyer,” I start, and then clear my throat to gain my courage. “I support Will in whatever he wants to do, and the reason I support him is because I love him…for who he is. You may be able to buy others off, but I’m not for sale.” I want to tell him that I’ve already endured hell and that there’s nothing he can do to me that I can’t handle, but I’m afraid any piece of personal information I give him is going to be tainted and twisted. So, I say what I can and my heart races with pride that I didn’t completely back down.
The Lake Page 25