I lift my hand to cover my heart, feeling like Anna has plunged a knife into it, and again, the tears spew forth.
“You’re right, Anna, and I am so sorry,” I force out between sobs. Anna and I have fought many times before, but I can’t remember a time when she was ever so cruel and hateful. And she has never said that she hated me.
“I don’t want to hear your pathetic apology, Alex. It means nothing to me,” Anna says icily, plunging the knife further into my aching chest.
“Anna! That’s enough!” Mom shouts at her.
Anna stomps out of the room, leaving Mom and me alone.
Mom helps me stand and leads me over to her bed. I catch a glimpse of myself in her closet mirror as we pass. My eyes are swollen and puffy and my face is streaked with the remnants of tears. It reminds me of that time Zack and I were playing baseball in the yard and I took a ball right in the eye; it was swollen and bruised for days. Mom goes into the bathroom and comes back out with a wet washcloth. She gently wipes my face and sits down beside me.
“There are so many things wrong with this situation, Alex. I’m sure you know that. I understand why your dad would do what he did, although I wish he had included me in that decision, but there’s no going back. We can’t change what’s already been done. We have to move forward. We’ll just keep this between us. No one else needs to know. Your dad did what he thought was best, and even though I don’t completely agree with the way he handled it, I do understand. I’m glad you finally told me, but I wish you hadn’t waited so long. You’ve been suffering alone all this time when I could have been there for you.”
Mom cradles my hand in hers and starts to cry again. I reach over with my free hand and grab a tissue from the box on her nightstand. I wipe a solitary tear off her cheek and apologize for about the millionth time tonight, but there are no tears from me. I’ve cried all I can. I’ve held them back for so long, and I’m sure there will be more later when I’m alone, but for now I’m all cried out.
Mom takes the tissue from me, wipes her eyes and then crumples it in her fist. “We’ve all had a long day and this new revelation is going to take some time to process, so let’s just call it a night. We’ll talk some more in the morning, okay?” She pushes a strand of hair behind my ear.
“I can’t go to my room, Mom. You heard Anna. She hates me. I can’t be around her right now. I can’t handle what she’s going to say to me. I’ll go sleep on the couch.” I stand up, shoulders slumped, head hanging in shame, and head toward the door.
“No, you’re not going to sleep on the couch. You can stay in here with me tonight.”
I smile gratefully and slip under the covers, pulling them close to my nose and inhaling the scent of my mother’s uniquely soothing smell. I roll onto my side, facing away from her, and let out a deep breath. I am beyond exhausted, but my mind refuses to shut off. I rearrange my pillows and pull the covers up around my neck again, trying to get into a more comfortable position when I feel Mom softly stroking my hair. Lulled by her gentle touch, my mind unwinds and wanders back to when I was a small child.
Whenever I had a nightmare, Mom would put me into bed with her and play with my hair while humming little melodies until I dozed off into a peaceful sleep. And like it did when I was younger, the fears fade away as I drift into unconsciousness.
I WAKE UP A FEW hours later from a dreamless sleep feeling a little better and definitely more relaxed than I have in a long time. I guess I never realized how hard it had been, having to carry my secret alone. It feels like a huge weight has been lifted off my chest and I can finally breathe normally again. And now I know exactly what I am going to do today, how I’m going to find out who knows.
After showering quickly downstairs, I wrap up in a towel and hurry into the laundry room for clothes. I know if I go upstairs, the stupid squeaky drawers in my dresser will surely wake Anna. I grab a pair of clean panties and a tank top out of the dryer, yank some semi-clean jeans out of the hamper, and then tiptoe up to the bedroom I share with Anna for my flip flops and a hair tie. Quietly, I back out of the room, keeping my eyes on Anna. Oh, damn. Where’s the cell phone? It’s not on my bed. I could have sworn I left it there. I glance at Anna’s nightstand, thinking she may have put it there, but I don’t see it. I look around the room and see her purse hanging on the back of her desk chair. I dig through it, but come up empty. Where did she put it? I know she has it.
Just then, it hits me. When we were little, Anna would always hide things under her mattress for safe keeping. It has to be there.
I ease down onto my knees and carefully slide my hand under the edge of her mattress, watching, making sure Anna doesn’t wake up. Working my way up, I finally feel something. I try to pinch it between my index and middle finger, but it keeps slipping away. Slowly, I force my hand a little further under the mattress, causing Anna to stir and mumble something in her sleep. I pause, hoping she doesn’t open her eyes and see me. I wait a few seconds for her to settle down, worried that the pounding of my rapidly beating heart will wake her. Once she settles, I slide my hand in deeper, getting a sturdy grip on the phone with three fingers and ease it out. I snatch my wallet off my nightstand and head back downstairs. I scribble a note for Mom as quickly as I can and leave it on the kitchen counter.
Mom, I’m borrowing the car to go to Hilldale. I will be home sometime tonight.
Love you,
Alex.
I tiptoe back into Mom’s room, glancing at her sleeping form as I try to locate her keys. She looks so peaceful. I wish I could crawl back into bed with her and forget any of this ever happened. But I can’t, I have to do this. I grab her keys off the dresser, squeezing them tightly in my fist so they won’t make any noise, and head out to the garage. It’s a long drive to Hilldale, but I have to get to the bottom of all of this before it’s too late.
THE SUN IS JUST STARTING to peek at me through the trees as I walk toward the car. I stop and take a moment to admire the early morning sky with its stunning shades of pink and little wisps of blues slicing through the clouds. I breathe deeply, absorbing the cool morning air and try to settle my jitters. Since the accident, I haven’t felt comfortable driving, but this is something that must be done, and I have to do it alone. I fill my lungs again, summoning the courage to get behind the wheel. I squint up at the beautiful sky one more time, take another deep breath, and slip inside, turning the key in the ignition. I turn on the radio and head toward the interstate.
It’s early on Monday and the roads are just starting to fill with commuters heading to their jobs. Crap, I didn’t even think about that. Mom’s going to be furious with me for taking the car and leaving her stranded without a way to work. It’s not like she can’t walk, though, the real estate office is only three blocks from the house. I really didn’t think this through, but there’s no way I’m going back, not now. I know the answers I need are in Hilldale. Mom will just have to get over it, I think as I settle in with the flow of traffic.
I’VE BEEN ON THE ROAD now for two and a half hours and am beginning to second-guess my decision. I should have just stayed home and tried to find the answers there. When we left Hilldale, it was not on good terms. We were practically shunned and forced out of town like the Amish do when someone in their culture shames them. Sure, we could’ve stayed, but what kind of life would we have had? We had no friends and everyone basically ignored us. We would have been miserable. There’s no way we could have continued to stay there. Dammit, what was I thinking? I can’t go back there. This is the craziest idea I have ever come up with.
I pull over at the next rest stop and take a walk, hoping the fresh air will bring me some clarity. I do a couple of laps around the parking lot and slide back into the car, my mind made up. I know exactly what I need to do. I dig my phone out of the pocket of my jeans and dial a number I haven’t called in a long time: Jake. After four rings, his voicemail picks up. I debate whether I
should leave a message, but just hearing the sound of his familiar voice reminds me how badly I miss him. I decide to leave a message, and if he doesn’t call back then I guess that will answer one of my questions.
“Hey, Jake. Um, it’s Alex. I know I’m probably the last person you expected to hear from, but I really need to talk to you. I’m actually on my way to Hilldale. I should be there in about two hours. I was hoping we could, um, maybe meet up. Call me back and let me know, please. Okay, well, um, bye.”
I toss the phone on the passenger seat and am just about to start the car when my phone rings. I jump, my fingers wrapped around the keys in the ignition. My heart starts beating a hundred miles a minute, slapping hurriedly against my chest. I thought I was ready to talk to him, but what if I’m not? What if he still hates me? Could I handle that? I reach over and grab the phone. Mom’s number flashes on the display. Disappointed, I let out a shaky breath and answer it.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Alex, what on earth are you thinking? You need to come back here right now!” She sounds panicked and worried, but I can’t let that sway me.
“I’m sorry, Mom, but I can’t. I have to do this.”
“Do what, exactly?” she asks, her voice cracking.
“I know I dumped a lot on you last night, and I am beyond relieved that you didn’t yell and scream and push me away, but there’s more to it. Someone knows what really happened that day. I don’t know who or how they know, but I believe I can get the answers I need in Hilldale. Just have Anna explain it all to you. I’m sorry, Mom. I really am, but I have to go.”
I end the call before she can say anything else. I know if I stay on the phone with her she will eventually talk me into turning around and going back home, and I can’t do that. She calls back five more times, but I let each one go to voicemail, and she finally gives up.
I HAVE BEEN DRIVING FOR what seems like forever and I think I have about an hour left before I arrive in Hilldale. Jake still hasn’t called back, which, in a way, doesn’t surprise me, and my stomach has been viciously growling at me for the past thirty minutes. I see a sign for a Burger King in Summersgrove at the next exit and decide to take it. I pull into a parking spot, grab my wallet, and start to open the car door when the phone that was delivered to my house vibrates in my pocket.
“Damn it,” I say out loud, shoving my hand in my pocket and digging it out. New text message. Hands shaking, half in anger and half in fear, I read:
You need to go home now. You won’t find the answers you are looking for in Hilldale. Plus, Mommy doesn’t seem to be too thrilled about your little adventure. I’ll be waiting for you when you return.
That is it! I refuse to let some nameless person have any control over my life. I hit reply to text back.
I am done playing by your rules. Either reveal yourself or leave me alone. I will not take part in this cat and mouse game with you. You do not scare me!
I press send and then, since I don’t want my stalker bothering me anymore and I don’t want anyone else reading those texts, I remove the SIM card and shove it into my pocket. I’ll destroy it when I get home. Opening the restaurant door, I toss the shell of the phone in the garbage before placing my order. I eat alone by the window while I give myself a pep talk and congratulate myself on standing up to this faceless person. Just as I take my last bite of food and stand to clear my trash, my phone rings and Jake’s name flashes across the screen. My heart drops to the floor and the breath hitches out of my lungs. My fingers fumble over on the display until I’m finally able to swipe it and answer the call. I take a shaky breath and bring the phone to my ear.
“Hello?” I say, weakly. I clear my throat and try again. “Hello?” There’s nothing but silence on the other end. I pull the phone away, checking to make sure my signal is good and that the call hasn’t been dropped. Seeing that I have full bars and am still connected, I bring the phone back to my ear. “Hello, Jake?” Nothing but silence again. I start to lower the phone, ready to hang up, when he finally speaks.
“Hey, Alex.”
His voice is like music to my ears. He sounds exactly the same, and just hearing his deep husky voice say my name brings back a flood of memories. I feel the tears building up and hurry to grab my belongings. I head to the car, not wanting to break down in the middle of Burger King and make a fool of myself.
“I got your message. Are you really coming here?”
“Yeah,” I say. “I should be there in about an hour. I was hoping we could meet up and talk.” He doesn’t respond right away so I continue. “Some crazy stuff has been happening and I was hoping you could help me sort it out.”
I hear him let out a breath. “I don’t know, Alex. I’m not sure if that would be a good idea.”
The tears I was barely managing to hold back flow freely now. Does he really hate me so much that he’s not even willing to meet with me for twenty minutes? I was okay with him not returning my call, but once I heard him say my name I knew I had to see him. We may not get back together, and he may not even be willing to help me, but at least I could get some closure.
“Oh, okay. I understand. That’s fine,” I force the words out over the growing lump in my throat. I don’t mean to, but I sniffle into the phone.
“Alex, don’t cry. You know I can’t stand it when you cry. I just have a lot to do today.”
“I said it was fine, Jake,” my words come out testily. “I’m sorry I bothered you, but thanks for calling me back.”
“Alex, I’m sorry. Maybe if you had given me more warning, I could have rearranged my schedule. I really wish you….”
“It’s fine, Jake, really,” I say briskly, cutting him off and squeezing my eyes closed to stop the tears. “It’s no big deal. I was hoping you could help me out with something, but it’s no big deal, just forget I asked. It was good to hear your voice again. Maybe we can talk again sometime. Bye, Jake.”
I disconnect the call and power my phone off. I drop it in the cup holder and get back on the road, determined to move forward with the original mission. I have to find out who is behind all those messages. So what if he won’t help me? I don’t need him; I can do it on my own. Can’t I? Okay, just stop it, Alex, you cannot let yourself get emotional over Jake Roland. I should have known he wouldn’t want to see me. This may not have turned out the way I had envisioned, but I know my answer is in Hilldale. I will just find it on my own.
CROSSING THE BRIDGE INTO HILLDALE around one-thirty, I still don’t know where I should go first. All I really know is that my answers are here, but I have no idea where to start. I decide to head to the most relaxing spot I know, the place where I feel most at ease, where I think most clearly: Lindon Beach Park. A small lighthouse sits on the beach, and anytime I felt sad or confused about something, or if I just wanted to be alone, I would go there and let myself become absorbed in the serenity of it all.
I park in the closest public parking area but remain sitting in the car. Maybe I should go back home. It’s not like I know what to look for anyway. I jerk my phone out of the cup holder and power it on. It dings with eight missed calls, all from Mom. I laugh out loud at her persistence and shove the phone in my pocket. I exit the car, deciding to take a quick walk to help sort through my options, which aren’t many. It’s either go home with no more information than I came here with, or stay here and find out what I can. I make my way to the lighthouse, taking in the sights around me. I gaze upon the white sandy beach bursting with tourists enjoying their summer vacation. The almost clear, blue water rushes up, reaching out to stroke the sand and taking some of it back with it. The sky above is cloudless, allowing the sun’s rays to cast a sparkle on everything. Seagulls, seeking their lunch, swoop down to catch their prey out of the water. I loved coming here with my family when I was younger. Anna, Zack, and me would spend hours building sandcastles and letting our parents judge them. We always tied and were each treated t
o an ice cream cone. After our prize was gone, either from being eaten or melting down our hands, we would run out into the cool ocean, our legs kicking up the water behind us. I reach the lighthouse and look up at its majestic beauty. It hasn’t changed one bit since the last time I was here.
That was a week before the accident. Jake and I had gotten into an argument over something petty so I came here to be alone. I would give anything to go back to that day. To be oblivious as to what lay ahead. To go back to when my biggest problem was deciding which shoes to wear to homecoming. Those days were so simple.
I walk around the perimeter of the lighthouse, running my hand along the chipped paint of the stone wall. It’s warm to the touch from the beaming sun, and it instantly relaxes me. Once I’ve made my way around, I lean my back against the wooden door and slide down to a sitting position. I look out at the beach where girls are sunbathing, boys are throwing around a football, and mothers are slathering sunscreen on their kids. I inhale the warm salty air, and as I stand up I see movement out of the corner of my eye. I turn my head in that direction and take in a shaky breath, shoving my hands in my pockets when I recognize Jake striding toward me.
I walk to him, my legs feeling like limp spaghetti noodles. We meet in the middle of the lighthouse path but stop a few steps away from one another. We stand there in awkward silence, taking in the sight of each other. I’m flooded with so many emotions right now that it’s hard to pick just one to concentrate on. There’s love for the only guy I ever gave myself to, both emotionally and physically. There’s longing to be in his arms again. There’s heartache and anger over the way he up and forgot about me. But the longer I stand facing him, taking in the sight of his handsome features, the more love and longing for him takes over. Yes, it was crappy, the way he quit calling and coming around. One day he’s kissing me and promising to see me later, and the next he acts as if I don’t even exist. But he was my first love and I can’t forget about all the good times we had together. Our after-school trips to the ice cream shop where we would share a fudge sundae; study dates at the library, where not much studying was accomplished; and trying desperately to squeeze in time away from our families and friends. The way we would sneak kisses between classes or how he would hold my hand underneath our table in Biology. It all comes rushing back to me, making my steps falter.
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