Lake of Secrets

by Shay Lee Giertz

  I swallow back the disappointment and nod. “But it’s just a couple weeks, right? I can come back here and hang with Alisa.”

  “Yes. Maybe even have that party you’re keeping from me.” Dad gives me a sly grin before going back to his packing.

  I press my lips together because I have no idea how to refute that. Lying has never been one of my strengths. Keeping it from Dad was one thing; bold-face lying about it is completely different.

  Dad takes a shirt from his bottom drawer and stops. With a sigh, he says, “Why the Debbie Downer expression? You enjoy going to America. Think of all the bugs you’ve never observed. You’ve never been to Michigan in the summer. You can take your camera, and you and I can go explore the Pigeon Forest.”

  His words garner the desired effect. My heart lifts. Of course I enjoy visiting family. Especially if my cousin, Cassie, would be there. And the bugs would be fascinating; all of the wildlife would be. He pulls me in and hugs me. “Thanks, sweetie.”

  Dad smells of his aftershave and the spearmint gum he always chews. I lean into him and rest my head on his shoulder.

  “I have to run back to the office and go over a few things with Martin. I will be back in time to pick you up and get us to the airport for the Red Eye. Please be ready.”

  After he leaves, I head to my room, drag my suitcase out from underneath the bed, and toss it on the mattress. My letter of university invitation still rests open on the bed. Dad hadn’t even noticed or asked. But that is okay. That letter weighs heavily on me, and with everything happening, talking with Dad would have to wait. I shove the letter back in the envelope and toss it in the bottom of the suitcase. A large part of me shudders at the thought of four to five years of additional schooling. Especially when photography doesn’t require a degree.

  That is definitely not a subject to broach with Dad. At least not yet.

  I toss my clothes into a suitcase with no rhyme or reason. A couple of t-shirts and shorts. Some jeans. A summer dress I bought on clearance, just in case. My one-piece bathing suit Dad insists I wear, and the bikini I bought with Alisa that has stayed hidden in a drawer for almost a year. After I pack my panties and bras, I decide to throw in a few sweatshirts. Dad told me many times that Michigan weather is unpredictable.

  When it’s done, I stare at the suitcase and allow myself to wallow in disappointment for a few minutes. I feel bad that Alisa went to all that work, only for me to drop the plans. It would have been wonderful. She would have made sure of that. I think of Mum, and how she hadn’t answered any of Dad’s calls. The hurt shouldn’t be there, but it is. I pick up my cell phone and call her. It goes straight to her sodding voicemail. “Mum, it’s Ginnie.” Exasperation drips from my words. “I need you to call me back. Immediately. It’s important.”

  The computerized voice cuts me off and tells me if I need more time to press “one.” I close my cell phone and sit on my half-stuffed suitcase.

  Someone pounds on the front door. I wonder if it’s Earl, our neighbor, coming over to complain again. Dad says only three things ever come out of Earl’s mouth: complaints about the weather, complaints about the government, or complaints about the stray dog who haunts our neighborhood and likes to scare Earl’s cat. Either way, we avoid talking with him if at all possible. I think he’s figured that out because he’s become prone to coming over for his weekly venting sessions without an invitation.

  I fling open the door, ready to tell him to hit the road and am surprised not to find his bald head and flappy jowls in front of me. Instead, it’s Alisa.

  “Tell me it’s not true,” she says and pushes past me and into our front hall. “Your father can’t be so daft as to take you halfway across the world the last day of our classes!”

  “It’s true.” I sigh and head into my bedroom. She follows me and mutters a string of curses when she spots the suitcase. “We’re leaving when he gets back from his lab. I guess we’re taking a Red-Eye flight.”

  “No, no, no, no!” Alisa grabs my shoulders and turns me to face her. “We’ve already planned out this next month. We have a party every weekend. A few parties, in fact. One just happens to be your party! Two nights from tonight! Or have you forgotten about that little tidbit of information?”

  “And what am I supposed to do?” My heart beats faster in my frustration while at the same time feeling like a sumo wrestler just crushed it in his fat paws. The irritation had begun to lull until Alisa showed up. Now it rears its monstrous head. Again. I press my lips together and close my eyes. Alisa is my best friend, but I don’t want her to see me have a complete meltdown. From Mum ignoring me to Gran having a heart attack, I’m not too sure I can take the disappointed look on my best friend’s face.

  She pinches her nose and scrunches up her eyes in apparent concentration. “What about your Mum?”

  “Won’t return any of my calls.” I flop down on my bed defeated. “So much for hanging with Leo.”

  “Oh, you are going to hang with Leo by summer’s end if I have anything to do with it.” Alisa flops down beside me and crosses her legs Indian-style. “What would your Mum do if you showed up on her doorstep? ‘Hello, Mummy dearest, you’ve been nonexistent in my life these eighteen years, and I’m here to call a favor.’”

  I shrug my shoulders, not sure if I would want to do that. I take issue with feeling unwanted. I’m not about to throw myself at her if she doesn’t want me. I’ve got my pride, after all.

  “Then you will have to stay with me.”

  “No…bloody…way.” Alisa shares a room with her annoying ten-year-old sister. Her mum and pop seem to have a hazy understanding of birth control or how to properly use it because they have six children. Alisa is the oldest, which means their small cottage with three smaller bedrooms is one big noise. It never shuts off. Someone is always shouting, crying, running, farting, or picking their nose. How Alisa has not gone completely insane is a mystery. One time was enough for me, thank you. Alisa has always crashed over here, and we’ve been perfectly fine with the arrangement.

  “We don’t have any other options.”

  “I could barely stand one night over there, let alone three weeks!”

  “Artie and Angus are going to summer camp in a few days. Those boys are the worst of the bunch.” She smiles in a way that even she doesn’t believe her lie.

  “Can’t we just postpone the party?” I ask, not thrilled with the idea, but seeing it as a possibility. “Dad promises we are only there for three weeks. We can change the date to the end of June.”

  “We are solidly booked, Ginnie. As in there are loads of parties going on after this weekend. We won’t have nearly the showing.”

  “So? A hundred kids is a lot to have in this place. Besides, if we’re going to the parties, I’m bound to run into Leo.”

  “What are you saying? Give up the most amazing, delicious, sensational party we will have attended, only to satisfy ourselves with other poorer quality get-togethers?”

  Now I’m the one smiling in a falsely reassuring way.

  “So I get to go to all of these parties by myself? While you’re having a dandy time in America?”

  “Well, I’ve never been there during the summer months. Who knows what specimens…”

  Alisa throws a pillow, smacking me in the head. “I cannot believe you’re thinking about bugs at a time like this!”

  “I’m not! Okay, I am, but only a little.”

  Alisa glares at me before rolling her eyes.

  “So there are some interesting insects in Northern Michigan. At least that’s what Dad tells me. But I would much rather stay here, and that’s the truth of it.”

  My cell phone rings, and we both jump to grab it. Only it’s not Mum. It’s Cassie, my cousin. “Hello?”

  “Is it true?” she yells into the phone. I hold the phone from my ear. “Are you coming to visit? Mom just told me, and I am seriously freaking out!”

  Alisa stands with her arms crossed. I’m not sure how a person can intens
ify a glare, but Alisa has mastered the talent. Then again, I know she can hear Cassie. Shoot, my neighbor can probably hear her.

  “Well, is it true?” Cassie’s asking.

  “Um, yeah, maybe. I don’t know all the particulars yet.” I try to turn from Alisa because her glare is making me uncomfortable, but she only maneuvers herself to be in front of me again.

  “She’s not going anywhere!” Alisa yells into the phone. I turn, but she’s too quick. “We are planning the best three weeks of our lives, thank you very much!”

  “Let me call you back.” I flip the phone closed and toss it on the bed.

  Alisa and I stand there as the weight of the inevitable settles between us. She blows out a breath. “Your cousin’s annoying.”

  “She’s not that bad.”

  “I don’t trust blondes.”

  I glance over at the picture of me and Cassie at Christmas time. She is blonde and perky, and my only cousin on Dad’s side, so I refrain from saying anything more.

  After another moment or two of silence. Alisa throws her hands up in surrender. “I can’t believe it. The best summer of our lives has sodding runoff and had an illicit affair with Major Inconvenience.”

  We look at each other, and I can’t help it. I break into a grin. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

  Now she’s grinning. “They have an illegitimate love child. Do you know what they name it?”

  “Inglorious Bastard?”

  Alisa snorts out a laugh. “Oh, that’s a good one. I was thinking Forest Dump.”

  I start giggling. “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “I know.” She pulls the list out of her pocket. “I made a list for you. I’ve got the original at home.” She hands me the paper. “Look at it and think of me. Three weeks. We can handle that.”

  “Definitely. Maybe I’ll gather enough courage to talk to a guy before college.”

  Alisa wraps her arms around me and gives me a bear hug. “I love you bunches, and I will miss you bunches. If you need anything, call me. I’ll put my coins together and round up a plane ticket. But only if it’s an emergency.”

  “That’d be fun. You’d like America.”

  We release each other, and I see Alisa wrinkles her nose. “American men look bizarre. I mean, their teeth are straight. I bet that means they’re lousy kissers.”

  “Like we would know.”

  “Hey, by the end of this summer, we’ll be experts, and that’s a promise. And not by no straight-teeth-American-men. We have standards, after all.”

  We walk back to the front door. Alisa opens the door when we hear my cell phone going off again. “I’m going to leave without any more delay. It’ll be easier.” Alisa rolls her eyes, blows me a kiss, and shuts the door behind her.

  I run to my room, annoyed that Cassie calls back so quickly. I pick up the phone and say, “I said I was going to call you back!”

  “Don’t come over here.”

  The voice is raspy and brittle. I check the phone and see it’s a number I don’t recognize.

  “Who is this?”

  “Listen to me. You need to stay put!”

  “Gran?” She hardly sounds the same, but I do recognize the familiar ring of her voice. “We want to come for a visit. We miss you.” I stop because I think I hear her laughing, but then I realize it is sobs. Now I feel like a selfish pig for even thinking of staying back. “Gran? What’s wrong? Oh, please, stop crying. We’re taking the Red Eye. We’ll be there soon.”

  “N-o,” she moans. “This isn’t supposed to happen. Stay there. Promise me…”

  The phone clicks, and the line is dead.

  3

  Dad is a whirlwind, moving at least 90 kilometers a minute. Maybe that’s an exaggeration, but only a slight one. I’ve tried to bring up the phone call, but I can’t get him to stand still for ten seconds. “Taxi’s here,” he says as he comes into my room. “Perfect timing if I say so myself. I’ve only been back for fifteen minutes. Just enough time to grab our stuff and get moving.”

  “Dad.”

  Dad grabs my suitcase. “What did you pack?” he asks in surprise. “It must weigh over fifty pounds!”

  “Dad.” I have to follow him out of the bedroom.

  “Seriously, Virginia. What do you have in here?”

  “I had to bring clothes for hot days, semi-hot days, normal days, cooler than normal days, plus it’s got my camera equipment. But Dad, I’ve got to talk to you.”

  “Let’s get going, then you can tell me in the cab. Oh, grab the laptop and its case. I’ll need to work a bit while I’m there.”

  Once in the study and packing the laptop, I hear the cab’s horn.

  “Virginia, you ready?” Dad calls out from the front room.

  I race out to the foyer where Dad had the door open waving at the cabbie.

  “Come on, come on,” he says and gently pushes me out the door. He sees our neighbor and tells me to get in the cab. “I’ve got to tell Earl to check our mail.”

  By the time, I’m situated in the cab, I’m a frazzled mess. I check to make sure I remembered my purse. I hear the truck slam shut, then Dad slides in beside me. “To the airport.” He glances over and says, “You all right? You look kind of green.”

  “I’ve been trying to talk to you.”

  “Sorry, hon, traveling overseas is hectic. Did you grab the passports?”

  “Yes. Dad!”

  “What?”

  “Gran called me.”

  “She did? Good. How is she doing?”

  “No, not good. She acted scared and told me not to come.”

  Dad’s facial expression changed to one of disbelief. “I can’t believe you’re still trying to get out of going.”

  Now my expression changes to disbelief. “Dad, I’m here, aren’t I?”

  “True. Well, maybe she didn’t want you to go through all the trouble of coming just for her. You know how she is. Aunt Sue says she’s trying to act like nothing happened.”

  “But she acted strangely. Like she was scared and was trying to protect me.”

  “She was a teen once, too. She probably doesn’t want to bother you. It’ll be okay. We’ll get there and make sure she’s all right. Don’t worry.”

  I shrug and look out the window. Tears threaten but I hold them back. It must not have hit me that I would be flying to America so soon until I sat in the cab. Now I have Gran’s warning echoing through my brain. Too much too fast.

  “How was school?” Dad asks.

  I know he’s trying small talk, and I don’t feel like a conversation. Still, I suck in a breath and say, “I think I pulled off a high mark in Literature class.”

  “So?” Dad says with a chuckle. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

  “It was quite difficult to read Chaucer, you know.”

  “With your brains, you could have memorized Chaucer and wrote a doctoral dissertation on his use of language.”

  “What have you been snorting?” I chuckle and shake my head. Dad may be a genius, but I have always had to work hard to maintain high marks in school. “I may get some of my brains from you, but I got a few traits from Mum, as well. Procrastination and disorganization being two of them.”

  Dad shakes his head. “You’re not that disorganized. You keep excellent records for your scrapbook.”

  “My scrapbook is one thing, but I can never find my homework.”

  “If you were truly that disorganized, I doubt you would have received that early admission letter.”

  I pause and glance over at him. “You saw it?”

  “Of course. A lot’s happened this afternoon, but something like that would not have escaped my notice.”

  I smile despite myself. “Thanks for noticing.”

  Dad put his arm around me and squeezed. “I think it’s terrific. Gran will be thrilled.”

  I decide not to say anything about photography and the whole I’m-not-sure-I-want-to-go-to-college talk. Instead, I change the subject. “Gran’s g
oing to come through, right?”

  “She’s stable. Aunt Sue is the one who called me. She’s Gran’s emergency contact. The hospital called her and told her Gran had been rushed there. Sue jumped in her car and drove the two hours up to Pigeon Lake.”

  “Poor Gran.”

  “She’s a tough nut, sweetie. She’s not going to go down without swinging a few punches.”

  I smile. Gran is tough, as feisty as they come. “That’s not what I was referring to. I’m talking about Aunt Sue and Gran together alone. No wonder Aunt Sue wants you to come. For reinforcements!”

  Aunt Sue and Gran always argue about something. Mostly it’s good-spirited, but it can get carried away.

  “Sue will behave,” Dad says. “At least until I can get there and be the mediator.”

  The next several hours go by in a blur. We barely make it to the flight on time. Dad has to shove me through security and pull me toward the gate while I’m still trying to put back on my shoes. Once we’re seated and in the air, I pass out. Dad wakes me for dinner. I start watching the in-flight movie with him, but I fall asleep again somewhere in the middle of it.

  All in all, by the time we land in Detroit, I’m a disheveled wreck who hasn’t had a shower in the past twenty-four hours and with a mouth that feels and probably smells like a nuclear bomb just exploded.

  Dad hands me a coffee. It tastes weird. Everything about America is slightly weird. Not unpleasant weird. Just off…a little. But Dad, on the other hand, acts like he’s in heaven. He inhales his coffee and sips it, a slight smile on his face.

  “It’s coffee, Dad,” I snap. I don’t know why I’m pissy, but I am. “It tastes the same in London.”