“I don’t know.” She glanced at the house again, then back at David. “Did you know Gray was taking drugs? I mean, before it all came out.” Lynette watched her brother’s eyes narrow.
David shrugged and rocked back on his heels. “I heard something from Liz.”
As usual, she was the last to know. “And nobody thought to tell me?”
“Lynnie, Gray has to sort this out on his own. I don’t know what got him started, but you can’t fix this for him.”
“I’m not trying to fix it. I’m trying to understand it.” She worked to keep the anger out of her voice. “He was doing so well. I mean, it’s not like he was super famous or anything, but—”
“But maybe he wanted to be.” David’s eyes clouded over. “I don’t know. From what I hear, that business is the toughest out there. Maybe our definition of ‘doing well’ doesn’t come anywhere close to his.”
“I guess.”
“Well, he’s home now. Let’s try to support him. And if you really want to know his story, why don’t you ask?” He squeezed her shoulder and smiled. “I guess we’ve never been all that good at talking, have we, Shortstop?”
Lynette blinked and gave a shrug. “I always felt like nobody wanted to hear what I had to say.”
“That’s not true. And before you say it, I know I’ve been avoiding your calls. Things haven’t been so great for me lately.”
“What do you mean?”
David tossed his hammer onto the grass and wandered around the perimeter of the rose garden. The bushes were overgrown, the ground around them hard and weed-infested, yet every year they stubbornly produced a riotous display that perfumed the air for weeks. New buds formed on every bush.
He stopped to pick off the deadheads, tossing them toward the old sycamore at the side of the driveway. “Josslyn and I have been having problems.” David dropped his voice and kept his back to her.
“Davy?” Lynette went to him, took hold of his arm, and pulled him around.
“We’re taking some time apart. We’ve been to counseling and . . . I think we can get through this, but . . .” He rubbed his face. “Life is never what you think it’ll be, huh?”
“Davy, I’m so sorry.” She thought of the two little faces she’d squealed over in the photos he’d shown her.
“We still love each other. But the past year . . . well, I’ve also been let go.” His shrug said it had been unexpected. “The company changed hands. We knew there would be casualties. I didn’t think I’d be one of them.”
“Oh no.” Lynette rubbed his arm. “You’ll find something else.”
“Hopefully. The comp package was decent. We’ll get by for a while.” He shook his head, clasping his hands behind his head. “I’m thirty-two. Not exactly ready for retirement.”
Nothing she could say would make things better. “I appreciate you coming home, Davy. If I’d known . . .”
“What?” He flung an arm toward the house. “This has to be dealt with. We have to make a decision about the house, you know that. Then there’s Dad . . . What are we going to do with him?”
“I don’t know.” Lynette kicked at the white stones beneath her feet. “I’ve been asking that for a long time.” And haven’t gotten any answers.
He sucked in a breath. “What were you thinking, keeping it to yourself? You should have said something before now.”
“I tried! And each time I called, you were too busy to talk.” Lynette’s temper started to simmer. “Like you said, you’ve got your own problems.” She turned back toward the house.
“Lynnie, stop.” David blocked her path. “I’m sorry. I just . . . It’s a lot to take in, okay? He needs a doctor.”
“You think I don’t know that?”
“Then . . .”
Lynette fiddled with a bracelet around her wrist. Counted to ten. Twice. “You’ll have to figure out how to get him there, David, because I’m fresh out of ideas. You seem to have all the answers. You deal with it.” She swiped at her cheeks and hated the animosity she felt toward her siblings since they’d come home.
“What are you mad at me for?”
Lynette stared, openmouthed. “Are you kidding? I’m doing my best. I’ve been doing my best, alone, for years. But I can’t fix any of this—the house, Dad, all our issues.” She blinked and lowered her voice. “I hate the thought of selling our home. And I hate that it’s the only reason you’re all here now.”
David was the most even tempered of her siblings; she’d never talked to him that way. Never had to. Her oldest brother had always been her protector. Someone she went to first when things were desperate. He hadn’t been there for her this past year.
“You let me down, Davy.” Tears slid down her cheeks. “I needed you a long time ago. It’s a little late to ride in and try to save the day now.”
For a moment she thought he would walk away.
He let out a ragged breath and stared at her through glassy eyes. “I hear you. I’m sorry. I’m a jerk, okay? You can punch me if you want.”
Their old camaraderie chased off her anger. He’d only just arrived, and she didn’t want to fight. “It’s good to have you home. But don’t use being here as an excuse not to work on your marriage. Talk to Josslyn. Maybe she and the kids can come over.”
He rolled his eyes, but grinned. “All right, I’ll talk to her.”
“Pinkie swear?” She held up her little finger.
“Come here, you.” David pulled her into a sweaty hug.
“Ick. You’re stinky.” She pushed him back with a laugh.
“Now are you gonna tell me what’s going on with you and Cooper?”
Lynette groaned and tugged on her hair. “Nothing’s going on.”
“Didn’t look like nothing to me the other day. He was holding you pretty close.”
“I was scared of the storm.”
“Still scared of storms?” David’s brow furrowed.
“Sort of.” Sort of a lot.
Nick hadn’t called and she hadn’t seen him since Saturday. And she didn’t want to talk about it.
“Why’s he working at the bank? Thought he was going to be an architect.”
“He said his dad needed him back here, but I think there’s more to it.” She watched a flock of birds disappear behind the house. “He’s been helpful, Davy. You know Nick, he’s not happy unless he’s saving the world.”
“Yeah, well. We don’t need his help.” David crossed the lawn and retrieved his hammer. Lynette heard the gates creak, turned as Cecily pushed through them, latched them shut, and marched down the driveway.
“Girl, you still here?” She tapped the watch on her wrist. “You gonna be late.”
“Shoot.” She turned to David before heading inside. “I wanted to thank you,” she whispered. “For getting Cecily back. She’s such a huge help.”
David frowned, looked from her to Cecily, then gave a shrug. “Wasn’t me. See you later, Shortstop.”
Chapter Fourteen
Gray wandered through the big house in search of something to do. After a rude awakening by someone banging something to death, he gave up on sleep, showered, shaved, and ventured downstairs.
Tori stood in the kitchen, peeling, chopping, and taking vengeance on a very large eggplant.
Gray grinned. “Wow. Where’d you get that thing?”
She glanced his way, knife in hand. “There’s a farm about a mile from here. Sweet old guy. We haggled over pricing, but I think he likes me. Told me to come back anytime.”
“Old Jenkins likes ’em young. Heard he murdered his last wife.” Gray ducked out of reach and went in search of food. He found bagels, popped one in the toaster, and peered a little dubiously into the coffeepot.
“It’s decaf.”
“I figured.” He poured a cup anyway, leaned up against the counter, and watched her work.
“I’ll do a shake for you in a minute.”
“Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow. “I’ll look forward to that.”
“Kee
p that up and I’ll put spinach in it again.”
Gray made a gagging noise. Spinach, eggplant. He was afraid to ask what else she’d bought to force on him.
Tori laughed and dumped the vegetable refuse into a plastic container. She’d already given Lynnie a lecture on composting, and the other day they’d gone out together and returned with a big black industrial plastic container, now sitting somewhere in the yard.
Since coming here, Tori had discarded the chunky jewelry, stopped using a bottle of hair gel a day, and lightened up on the makeup. It took some getting used to, but as he looked at her now, he realized what she’d been hiding.
Natural beauty.
Gray tried to look away, but couldn’t.
It was happening again.
And the feelings he’d locked up and banished could not return.
“You’re staring.” She met his eyes with a scowl. “Is my shirt on backward?”
“Nope.” He reached into his back pocket. “Almost forgot. Brought you a present.” Gray placed the half empty pack of cigarettes in front of her.
She turned up her nose and poked the cardboard box with the tip of her knife. “How sweet. I don’t smoke.”
“Yeah, I know. Neither do I. Anymore.”
“Seriously?”
Gray nodded. He’d made the right decision. “Figure if I’m going cold turkey, may as well get rid of everything.”
“All right. Good for you.” She lowered her head and started chopping again, but her smile stayed put. “I made some calls. Apparently there’s a new doctor in town who’s very good. You have an appointment tomorrow morning.”
“Tor, please. No more doctors.” He’d talked to enough doctors and shrinks to last a lifetime.
She pointed the knife in his direction. “You really want to argue with me, Gray? You’re the one who insisted on leaving the clinic after two weeks against your doctor’s advice, so . . .”
“Okay, okay. I hear you.” He eyed the pile of chopped vegetables. And he’d seen her carve a turkey. “Tomorrow it is.”
Gray fixed his bagel and sat at the banquet in the kitchen. Lynnie had gone to work, and his father was comfortably settled on the back patio, watching David mow the lawn. Gray was still trying to get his head around the change in Pops. If the situation weren’t so sad, it would be funny.
Every now and then Pops barked instructions at David over the noise of the mower, like he was trying to teach him how to play croquet. Pops loved that game. His cronies would come over on the weekends and they’d spend hours out back, arguing with each other and drinking Bloody Marys. This morning Pops was drinking Tori’s lame excuse for coffee.
Gray flicked through today’s paper, didn’t find his name anywhere, finished eating, and tipped the rest of Tori’s shake into the dogs’ dish when she wasn’t looking. Then he stood at the window and watched his brother work.
He should probably get out there and offer to do something.
But he wasn’t up to any real conversation with David. Or any of them.
Not yet.
The lawn rose and fell in anthills and patches of thistle. Hardly the smooth stretch of green he remembered. Somehow, in the locked drawers of his memory, everything remained the same. He’d half expected his mother to appear the night he’d arrived, give her usual exuberant shout of greeting, and fly down the steps to meet him.
But she hadn’t.
And his memory had deceived him.
Gray left Tori to her culinary experiments and went exploring. Cecily was in the living room, dusting away, humming to herself. Gray backpedaled, not ready for a run-in with the woman who’d practically raised him, but she turned too fast.
“Where you going?”
“Uh, nowhere.” He tried out the smile that always worked on her. This time it didn’t.
Cecily crossed the room and stood before him, more serious than he’d ever seen her. Gray had little choice but to stay put as she eyed him up and down.
“Ce-ce, whatever you’re about to say, I’ve probably already heard it.”
She narrowed her eyes, fiddled with the cross around her neck, and sighed. “You think so?”
Gray shrugged. “You don’t need to tell me what a mess I’ve made of my life.”
“Oh, I figured that.” Lines around her eyes crinkled as she patted his cheek with a sad smile, and suddenly he felt like a kid again. “If you’re waiting for judgment to jump out at you behind every corner, honey, you’re in the wrong house.”
He rolled his eyes, his throat tight. “Yeah?”
Her mouth formed a thin line. “Seems to me, the only one throwing judgment around here might be you.” She brushed some dog fur off his shirt and placed her hands on his shoulders, her teary eyes reaching right through to his soul. “Home is where you come to heal, baby.”
“That’s ironic.”
Cecily shook her head, studied him for a long moment. “Sometimes, Gray, you find hope in the last place you think to look.” She drew him into a hug, then stood back with a smile that lit her face and patched one of the holes in his heart.
Cecily returned to her work, leaving him standing there, stupid tears in his eyes.
Gray moved to the round table by the piano and scanned the array of photographs on display. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip and picked up a picture.
His throat tightened again as he studied it.
He and Cooper sat in their Sunfish, arms thrown around each other’s skinny shoulders. Midgets. Full of themselves and brazen enough to make sure the world knew it. Life had been pretty simple back then. They’d even ended up being sent away to school together. Managed to make more trouble there, something their parents hadn’t banked on.
They used to talk about anything. Argue over everything and nothing, just to see who would back down first. Got into more than a few scrapes over the years and sent their parents into conniptions too many times to count.
While he was wild and often out of control, Nick was centered. The only one who could rein Gray in, make him take a breath and actually use the brain God had mistakenly blessed him with. Gray hadn’t put it to much use over the past five years.
He’d always figured Nick would be around forever. His touchstone.
But he’d chased his best friend out of his life and made sure he stayed out.
And since then Gray had been lonely.
Gray put the picture back in place.
He left the living room and went into the next one. They called it the study, although it was more like a library. It was the only place Mom had allowed Pops to smoke. The dark wood-paneled walls still shone, built-in bookcases filled to overflowing with everything from Dr. Seuss to Aristotle.
Never much of a reader, Gray avoided the room, but the others could spend hours in here, perched on thick cushions in the window boxes on a rainy day, their noses buried between musty bindings. Gray preferred to be outside whatever the weather. Nothing like ducking a little lightning now and again.
But sooner or later you get hit.
“Did you need something?”
Gray startled and turned toward his sister’s voice. Liz sat behind the desk at the far corner of the room, laptop open. She stared expectantly.
“You scared the crap out of me.” He scrubbed his face and waited for his pulse to slow down. “Didn’t know you were in here.”
“So I gathered.” She studied him through black-rimmed glasses. Her blond hair was swept into a tight bun and large diamonds sparkled from her ears. She looked ready for a day at the office.
Gray struggled for something sensible to say. After their last telephone conversation, he’d avoided her. Liz was far too intimidating for his liking. Always had been.
“You look busy. I’ll leave you alone.”
She waved a hand, like she was swatting a fly. Or him. “I was just catching up on some work. The Internet connection is appalling.” Her horrified expression amused him.
He cleared his throat and ventured across
the faded Persian rug. “I don’t think Lynnie gets online much. Kind of nice not to be tied to it, really.” He’d steered clear of computers and television for weeks.
“I’ve already called someone. They should be over this afternoon to get us hooked up with high-speed.”
“Sweet. You paying?”
“Of course I am. Some of us have work to do, Gray. I can’t jog into town every time I need to send a file.”
“I guess not.” Not that he could imagine Liz jogging anywhere, but some fresh air might help her attitude some. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and stared at the portrait above the fireplace.
His mother looked down at him, lips curled in her usual half smile, blond hair shimmering under a setting sun. She was probably in her twenties when the painting had been done. Pops had captured her spirit in its entirety. It was possibly his best work. He’d even managed to give her that air of mystery Diana Carlisle had been famous for. Vibrant blue eyes hinted at secrets they would never know.
He rubbed his throbbing temples. “I still miss her. That’s crazy, huh?”
Gray turned to Liz and caught a glimmer of tears. Surprise crept over him, followed by guilt.
Liz closed her laptop and gave a small shrug. “Hard to believe it’s been twelve years. Being back here makes it feel like yesterday.”
“Yeah.” Gray slumped into a chair and fiddled with the chain around his neck. “I’ll never forget it. Principal Wiggs came into the classroom and just looked at me. I thought I was about to be expelled.” He could still picture old Wiggy’s face. “That would have been the better news.” One of these days, his heart might stop hurting. He wasn’t counting on it, but it sure would be nice.
Liz stretched her arms above her head, a faint purple line of a bruise just visible on the underside, above her elbow. “I was in the middle of finals. Had to write all my exams late. I wasn’t sure they would let me graduate.”
He tried to see past the stone wall surrounding her, sighed and gave up. “Your life was hardly ruined, Liz. You got into Harvard. Got your law degree.”
“Yes.” She returned his stare, lips pulled tight. “Hardly ruined at all. Not compared to some, I suppose.”
The Things We Knew Page 13