Secrets She Left Behind

by Diane Chamberlain

  “What am I supposed to do now?” I asked. My voice cracked on the “now,” and I was pissed at myself for sounding afraid.

  “You don’t have to make any decisions right away,” Marcus said. “Let’s take this one step at a time. The first thing is to just…let this sink in. I’ll go back to my house with you and we’ll chill for the rest of the day, all right? Then we can start planning a memorial service for her.”

  “I don’t know how to do that shit.”

  “You’ll have plenty of help,” Marcus said. “Dawn and Laurel, for starters.”

  “I can help, too, Keith,” Maggie said.

  I snapped my head toward her. “Don’t you get it, Maggie?” I asked. “I don’t want your help. This whole mess wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for you.”

  “Mags,” Marcus said. “Why don’t you go home. We can talk later.”

  “All right.” She nodded. “I’m sorry, Keith,” she said for the zillionth time.

  I waited till I was sure she was far enough down the hall that she couldn’t hear me. “You don’t need to come home,” I said to Marcus. “I’m gonna call Jen to come get me.” I needed to be with Jen. With her screwed-up family, she was the one person who’d get how I was feeling.

  “You sure?” Marcus asked. “Why not let me take you home. Give you some time to process all this.”

  “I want to be with my girlfriend, okay?” I stood up, wobbling a little. Marcus reached out an arm to steady me, and I let him. “I’m all right,” I said. “I’m not going off the deep end or anything. I’ll come back to the tower later.”

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  Maggie

  I NEEDED AN EXTRA SESSION WITH DR. JAKES THE MORNING of Sara’s memorial service because I so didn’t want to go. I wanted to hide in my room. Mom would have let me stay home. She was scared for me. She didn’t say so, but I could tell by the way she kept checking on me as I got ready, and I finally told her what Dr. Jakes had told me: “Today is about Sara, Mom,” I said. “It’s not about me.”

  Keith and Uncle Marcus would be driving together to the service. Uncle Marcus told me that Keith had a girlfriend now, and she’d probably be coming with them. He said he’d been seeing her for a while, but Uncle Marcus hadn’t met her yet. I was amazed that Keith had a girlfriend. It made me happy. He needed somebody to care about him, especially since he was pushing all of us away.

  There was a line of cars parked on the road by the northern tip of the island, and we pulled right behind Marcus’s pickup. Mom and Andy and I held hands as we walked toward the windy spit of land by the remains of Daddy’s chapel. Apparently, Sara once told Dawn she’d like to have her ashes scattered in the inlet by the old chapel, so Dawn suggested the service be held there. I wished she’d picked someplace—anyplace—else. It had to be so hard for my mother. I held her hand tight as we got close to the twenty or thirty people milling around near the old chapel walls. Mom probably thought it was because I was freaking out with all the people there, but I just wanted to comfort her the way she’d been comforting me all year long.

  The sky was that bright, bright blue you saw on the island sometimes. As things got going, I stood between Mom and Andy, and Marcus stood next to Keith. No sign of his girlfriend that I could see. Dawn was there, and she stood in front of everybody since she was in charge of the service. It was the first time I’d seen her since I got out of prison, and I couldn’t look straight at her. I guessed the guy standing closest to her was her boyfriend, Frankie. He was short—a lot shorter than Dawn—and he had that blond-and-tan surfer look.

  Dawn talked about Sara—what a good friend she’d been and how much she’d loved working with her at Jabeen’s. I could hear her because I was close enough, but I was sure some of the other people just saw her mouth moving as her words were blown out to sea. Then Mom went up in front of everyone and talked about what a great mother Sara had been to Keith. A few other people spoke, but I was spacing out, thinking about how Dr. Jakes was wrong. This was about me. I’d changed the island. I’d done more damage than a hurricane. Keith with his scars. Sara dead. There was nobody to blame but me, and every single person there probably had that thought going through his or her mind. Some of the people hated me, for sure. Keith certainly did. Dawn. So many others. Even people who didn’t know me still knew what I did and hated me for it. As long as I lived on Topsail Island, every time I’d be in a group of people, it would be about me. Someday I’d have to leave. If I ever wanted a normal life, it couldn’t be here. But there was a difference between leaving and running away. I wouldn’t go until I was sure which one I was doing.

  When everyone was done speaking, Keith carried the urn out to the inlet, Marcus at his side. The wind blew Keith’s dark curly hair all over the place and whipped at his shirt. I couldn’t see what was happening, but he was struggling with the urn and Marcus had to help him. I watched Sara’s ashes suddenly explode in a gray puff of smoke before they were swallowed by the wind and the water. It was incredibly quick. That’s really when it hit me, and when I started to cry. She was actually gone. The woman I’d loved for most of my life. My second mother when I was little. In less than a second, she was gone.

  People followed us back to our house afterward, where this caterer Mom knew was setting up sandwiches and coffee. I went straight up to my room. Mom had told me not to worry about socializing, and I was relieved that she understood how hard that would be for me. My courage had its limits.

  I sat on my bed, looking out the window at the sound. Even though the window was closed, I could hear the squawking of the gulls that flew over the water. The activity going on downstairs was a steady thrumming sound, and my bed seemed to vibrate with it.

  I noticed someone walking across our sandy yard, heading for the pier, and it took me a minute to realize it was Keith. He was kind of hunched over like an old man. I was sure he didn’t want to mingle with the crowd downstairs any more than I did. My tattoo burned and I rubbed my hip as I tried to blink away the image of Sara’s ashes disappearing in a puff of gray. As shocking as that moment had been for me, it must have been a thousand times worse for Keith.

  I wanted to help him. To do things for him. I’d gone to Charlotte with Uncle Marcus the day before to get the things that had been in Sara’s car. That’s when Uncle Marcus told me about the girlfriend, and I felt kind of angry at her for not being with Keith today, when he really needed her.

  I got off my bed, put on my sneakers and walked quietly down the stairs and out the front door. A few people saw me and probably thought I was the biggest coward, but I didn’t care. I walked through the side yard and out on the pier, where Keith sat with his legs dangling above the water. He glanced up as I walked toward him, and I saw a look of disgust cross his face.

  I sat down next to him. For a minute, neither of us spoke.

  “Do you know that your mom’s ashes were scattered in the same place as our father’s ashes?” I asked after a while.

  He was quiet. Finally he said, “Weird.”

  “I guess it’s nice in a way,” I said, trying not to think about my own mother. “Nice for them.”

  He picked a splinter off one of the boards and tossed it in the water. I was sitting on his right side. Looking at that part of his face, you wouldn’t know there was anything wrong with him. He reminded me of pictures of Daddy from when he was young.

  “Sometimes I talk to my father,” I said. “And I think he hears me. Sometimes he…communicates with me.”

  “What is this?” He smirked. “True confessions?”

  “No. I just wanted to tell you that. I know your mother’s…gone from Earth, but that doesn’t mean you can’t talk to her.”

  He laughed. “I know I can talk to her,” he said. “I just don’t believe she’ll be listening.”

  “Maybe or maybe not.”

  “Whatever.” He looked toward the horizon, squinting. “You know, Maggie,” he said, “I came out here because I wanted to be alone.”
/>   I nodded and got to my feet. “Okay,” I said. “That’s all right.”

  I walked back up the pier toward the house, hugging my arms against the wind. I wished I could really talk to him. I wanted to tell him that he didn’t need to be alone, ever again. I wanted to tell him that I had an amazing mother and an amazing uncle and a totally wonderful little brother, and that we would always be there for him—whether he wanted us to be or not.

  Chapter Sixty-Nine

  Keith

  “I STILL FEEL TERRIBLE ABOUT NOT BEING WITH YOU THIS morning.” Jen held my hand as we walked from her house to her car. We were going to drive to the mainland to rent a movie. I was pretty desperate for a comedy. One of those really stupid lame ones like Animal House that forced you to laugh in spite of yourself.

  “That’s okay,” I said. It really wasn’t okay, though. I’d told her it was no big deal, but man, I’d wanted her there with me. She had to go to Durham. A cousin’s wedding or birthday or who knew what. Something she said she couldn’t get out of. She told me the whole story, but all I heard was that she couldn’t come with me. Why not? Would missing her stupid cousin’s stupid wedding have been so terrible? I would’ve felt a lot less pathetic having her there with me.

  Maybe it was just as well, though. She wouldn’t have fit in. It was a Topsail Island thing. A Lockwood thing. I’d felt like a Lockwood for the first time in my life, even though I resisted feeling that way with a passion. But it was the Lockwoods who were holding me up. Laurel asking me a thousand times if I was all right. Marcus actually helping me spill my mother’s ashes into the inlet because my arms were shaking so hard. That whole spectacle stank. I hated it. When Maggie told me that’s where my father’s ashes had been scattered, though, it started making sense and I knew it had been the right thing to do. It was what my mother wanted.

  We got into Jen’s car and I sniffed the air.

  “I smell gas.” I wondered if she heard the panic in my voice. I’d pulled out the seat belt but didn’t latch it. I was ready to bolt.

  “Oh, I know,” she said as she pulled onto the road. “I just filled it up. It always smells like this afterward.” She rolled down her window. “Open your window and it’ll go away.”

  I opened the window but still didn’t latch the seat belt. I was already picturing the car exploding. Us trapped in it. Trapped in a fire. I thought of saying maybe we should go back and take my car, but I’d sound like a wuss and the video store wasn’t that far.

  “So how was your cousin’s…thing?” I asked.

  “Baby shower,” she said. “It was okay.” She glanced at me. “I had to be there, Keith. I was in charge of the whole thing, but I left as soon as I could get away. I hope you understand.”

  “It’s okay.” Right then, all I could think about was the explosion that was going to happen any second. My left hand hung on to the seat belt, while my right hand was on the door handle.

  “Maybe I could help you go through your mother’s things? That’s got to be so hard, sorting through…you know.” She glanced at me again when I didn’t answer. “Or would you rather do that alone?”

  “I haven’t thought about it,” I said. Marcus and Maggie had driven the five hours to Charlotte and back again to get the stuff from the car. There was a lot of it, and now the boxes were stacked up in my mother’s bedroom in the trailer. I didn’t even want to go in that room, much less go through the things she’d been taking to her new life in Charlotte. Marcus said I should go through it soon, though, in case she left a will. I doubted it. She wasn’t the will-making type. Plus, she had nothing to leave anyone.

  We pulled in front of the video store and I let go of the seat belt. Jen leaned forward to get a good look at me.

  “You okay, baby?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I’m all right.” Images from the morning were coming back to me: the crowd of people by the ruins of that chapel. People saying things I wasn’t really listening to about my mother. Trying to open that damn urn. Everyone back at Laurel’s, politely nibbling little sandwiches and pretending not to stare at me. I’d needed to get out of there in the worst way. “Maggie was there, of course,” I said.

  “Of course.”

  “She gave me all this crap about how she talks to her father and he talks back.”

  “Really!” Jen opened her car door. “She sounds like a nutcase.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “She’s totally whacked.”

  I got out of the car and followed Jen into the store, trying not to think about how Maggie’s eyes were exactly like mine.

  Chapter Seventy

  Sara

  Maggie’s Latest Victim

  August 2008

  IT’S 3:00 A.M., AND I CAN’T SLEEP.

  This morning, I took Keith to PT, as usual.

  “Do you need me here?” I asked Gunnar as he began working on Keith’s shoulder. Lately, I have the feeling Keith doesn’t want me hovering over him during his physical therapy. He says I ask too many questions. I think he likes having the time alone with Gunnar. An older guy for him to relate to. I just get in the way.

  “We’re fine,” Gunnar said as he slowly stretched Keith’s left arm over his head. Keith is really gaining mobility in that shoulder. I can tell when we do the exercises at home, and watching Gunnar work with him, it’s even more evident. Gunnar isn’t as afraid as I am of taking that arm to the limit. “I’ll come get you if we need you.” Gunnar glanced up at me.

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ll see you in a little bit, Keith.”

  “Whatever,” Keith said, his face knotted in either pain or concentration or both.

  I sat down at the public computer in the waiting area to catch up on my e-mail. I spotted one from an unfamiliar address, EMatthews. Ellen Matthews? Jordy’s mother? The subject line caught my eye: New Lockwood Victim. Those words shook me up. I clicked on the e-mail and saw dozens of addresses in the header. If it was from Ellen, I thought, she sent it to everyone in her address book. I quickly read the two lines.

  On the news tonite, you can learn about Maggie Lockwood’s latest victim. Be sure to watch.

  Oh, no, I thought. Another child died? This long after the fire? I bit my lip. I always think of Keith as being the worst injured of the children who survived, but I know several of them suffered severe lung damage from the fire. Keith himself would always have to be careful with his lungs. I felt devastated for whatever family had lost its child, and I hated the cryptic and insensitive way Ellen was letting people know. I had to excuse her, though. Ever since losing Jordy, she’d been teetering on the edge of mental illness, and everyone knew it.

  I saw her in Jabeen’s a few weeks ago and barely recognized her. She’d aged five years since the fire, but I figured she could be thinking the same thing about me. I walked around the counter to give her a hug. Although I didn’t know her well, all the parents of the victims became instant family the night of the fire.

  “How is Keith?” she asked as I made her tea. “Is he in terrible pain?”

  “It’s a lot better than it was,” I said. “The worst part is that he’s embarrassed.” I handed her the cardboard cup. “He doesn’t want anyone to see him. He has to go back to school in the fall, and my heart breaks for him.” I suddenly realized my terrible, unforgivable faux pas and my hand shot to my mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry, Ellen!” I said. “Yes, he’s injured, but he’s alive. I’m so sorry I said all that! I still have him. I know how lucky I am.” I was stumbling over myself to apologize.

  “It’s all right,” she said. “I’m glad he’s doing well.”

  I thought she tried to smile, but I was so devastated by my stupidity that I really couldn’t say any more, and she left without another word.

  I put the e-mail out of my mind as Keith and I drove home. We stopped at the pharmacy in Sneads Ferry. Or at least, I stopped there, while Keith waited in the car.

  “Please come in, Keith,” I said as I picked up my purse from the floor between our seats. He still refused to
be seen in public and I was getting increasingly worried about it. “You can’t hide from the world forever,” I said.

  His eyes were closed as he listened to his MP3 player, but I knew he heard me in spite of the earbuds.

  “At least I can hide from it for the next fifteen minutes,” he said.

  “Okay.” I didn’t push him. Maybe I should start to, though, I thought. School was just a few weeks away. I didn’t know how he was going to manage.

  I picked up a couple of prescriptions, then got back in the car. Keith was still hooked up to the MP3 player, humming, his eyes closed. I pulled out of the parking lot and turned toward the high-rise bridge that linked Sneads Ferry to the island. At first, the road was clear, but as we started over the part of the bridge that rises above the marshland, I saw the long line of cars ahead of us.

  “Damn summer traffic,” I said.

  Keith opened his eyes. “Cops ahead.”

  I saw the flashing red-and-blue lights. Police cars. Ambulances. A fire truck. “Must be a bad accident,” I said.

  Keith sat up straight, pulling out his earbuds, craning his neck to see over and around the line of cars.

  I looked in my rearview mirror. Was it too late to back up and get out of this mess? I could take Old Folkstone Road to the swing bridge and cross over to the island there. But already, cars were lined up behind me. I was good and stuck.

  Keith put his earbuds back in and slumped down in the seat. I tapped my fingertips on the steering wheel for a moment, then put the car in Park, got out and walked to the side of the road to try to see better. A couple of old men, fishing poles in their hands, stood by the railing.

  “Do you know what’s going on?” I asked.

  One of the men, his gray beard neatly trimmed, looked at me. “Car went over the side of the bridge,” he said.