One morning I was running late dropping Olivia off at Sarah’s so I could get to college. I pulled up to her house and leapt out, leaning into the backseat to unsnap Olivia from her car seat. A foul smell assaulted me and there was a thick, wet sucking sound as I tried to wrench her from the car seat.
I’d forgotten to put a diaper on Olivia. Her lower half was covered in poo. It squished over her chubby thighs, across the front of her tiny pink dress, up her back, and dripped over the edge of the car seat onto the floor.
For the first time—the only time—I wished I’d listened to Gavin. I regretted keeping my daughter—and how could any mother regret her own baby? I was as hopelessly inept at mothering as I was at everything else. In over my head.
When I was pregnant with Olivia, I’d sworn I’d be the type of mother who would never abandon her, the type I’d wanted my mom to be. I’d hold her against my chest, rub my nose against hers, brush my eyelashes along the curve of her cheek. I’d tell her that her DNA used to swim in my blood, that we were a part of each other, our heartbeats one.
But then she was born, and I was on my own and holding that tiny body, and it might as well have been the weight of the world right there in my arms. So I’d shoved my howling, poo-streaked baby at Sarah, got in my car, and drove away.
That was the shameful secret I didn’t want Olivia to ever, ever know. Not only had her father abandoned her, so had her mother.
And of the two of us, really, I’m the one who should’ve known better.
I looked at Sarah, and knew she was remembering it too. “I did so many things wrong,” I said. “Maybe I’m just as bad as Mom was.”
“Abi,” Sarah said gently. “You came back. That’s the important thing. You didn’t abandon Olivia; you took a much-needed break. And you were a better mother for it. You think everything is so black-and-white, but the world isn’t like that. Maybe you weren’t a perfect mother, but you were a great one. It doesn’t mean you loved her any less.”
I stood abruptly and grabbed a small bottle of lotion from a drawer near Olivia’s head. I took her hand in mine and worked the lotion into her cold, dry skin, gazing at the ultrasound screen.
I’d fallen headlong in love with this baby, and it might die, the way Olivia would die when we turned off her life support. The way my mom had. Or Derek could take her from me. It was a risk: the more I loved, the more I had to lose.
But I loved this baby with that crazy kind of love that reaches deep inside of you and changes you from the inside out. The kind of love that makes you say yes more than no. That makes you think you can wish on a shooting star and everything will magically be all right.
33
* * *
OLIVIA
august
The week before school started, Madison finally penciled me in for some girl time. I was torn between feeling resentful that I’d dropped to the bottom of her priority list and grateful so I could spend more time with Derek. Also, I was super aware that I’d been the one to cancel going to the beach with her on my birthday, so really I couldn’t be that mad.
I woke up late feeling groggy and thickheaded. There was no time for breakfast, so I threw a banana in my beach bag and sent a quick text to my mom letting her know where I was going.
By the time I reached Java Café, I was drenched in sweat. I wiped a hand across my forehead. It was so hot it felt like the air was pressing on my lungs.
The place was packed with teenagers, all jabbering loudly. I looked up at the giant blackboard chalked in flowing cursive and eyed the fresh fruit stacked in shallow crates below.
Madison and I saw each other at the same time. She jumped up, waving her hands wildly in the air. Shoving her iPhone into her giant, black beach bag she ran over, throwing her arms around me.
“Livvie! It’s sooo good to see you! It’s been, like, forever, right? I mean, how has this whole summer passed and we’ve barely gotten to hang?”
I hugged her back. She was wearing white platform sandals, white cropped leggings, and a baggy black Van Halen T-shirt. One shoulder kept slipping down and exposing the edge of her black and white bikini top. Her hair was held off her forehead with a wide black headband. She looked very grown-up. My Adidas shorts, which felt unnecessarily snug, pink tank top, and flip-flops seemed very childish in comparison.
“I know. It’s crazy, right?” I replied. “You’ve been, like, super busy this summer. You must be excited about the play’s opening night, though. Only a few weeks away.”
She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh my God. I’m so nervous!”
“You’ll be amazing. You always are.” I knew my own lines well.
She shrugged, mollified, and we walked to the cash register to place our orders.
Behind the counter, lush, rainbow-colored fruit gleamed from crates stacked on top of the cupboards. My mouth watered, but then I remembered the banana in my bag. What I really needed was a coffee to wake up.
“Oooh, kiwi,” Madison squealed, and pointed. “My favorite! I’ll have a strawberry kiwi smoothie, please.”
“I’ll have an iced latte,” I told the girl at the register.
“A latte?” Madison teased archly. “You never drink coffee.”
“Well, you know me,” I joked, flicking the end of my ponytail over my shoulder. “I’m so grown-up now.”
She giggled and we took our drinks outside, crossing the street to the boardwalk. It was still early, but the sand was already packed with people. The beach was always mobbed the last week of August. All the families enjoying the last days before school started and the weather began to cool.
No sign of that now, though. It was blistering hot. I plucked at my sweaty tank top, trying to let in a bit of fresh air.
We made a beeline for two open sun loungers, plopping our towels and beach bags on top. The playful scent of sunscreen assaulted my nose, followed by the salty tang of the sea.
Heat wormed its way into my hair, lazy sweat prickling against my scalp. “It’s so hot,” I moaned.
Madison looked at me strangely. “It isn’t that hot.”
I took a sip of my latte. It tasted bitter and was so strong I cringed. I should’ve put sugar in it.
“So.” Madison straightened her beach towel, then sat down and started rubbing oil on her arms. She liked to let her skin marinate into that perfect shade of toffee. I got my sunscreen out, knowing I’d burn in a minute if I wasn’t careful.
“You should take that bracelet off,” Madison said. “You’ll get tan lines.”
I hesitated. I knew Madison thought my bracelet was babyish. “No thanks. Besides, I don’t mind tan lines.”
She shrugged. “So, how are you? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I smiled. But Madison kept looking at me like I was supposed to say something else.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
She studied me for another moment, then focused her attention on rubbing oil on her legs. The smell of coconuts and sun rose from the bottle. I peeled my banana and took a bite, and the silence expanded between us. For the first time in my life, I felt a little awkward with my best friend. Maybe it was the lie that I knew sat between us, bulky and imposing.
A toddler streaked across the sand in front of us naked, his diaper clutched in a sandy fist. His face beamed with utter joy at the unexpected freedom. His frazzled mother ran after him, shouting in dismay.
Madison and I looked at each other and the awkwardness evaporated as we burst out laughing. “How shitty would that be!” she spluttered.
“Ha! Literally!”
“It’s weird, isn’t it?” she said after a few minutes. “Usually we spend, like, every day together, but I feel like I haven’t seen you since school got out. What’ve you been up to?”
“Not much.” I forced a laugh. I didn’t want to ruin the day by telling her I’d spent most of the summer with her brother. “The days just slipped by, you know? I read outside in the hammock a lot. I swam, mo
wed the lawn, planted our garden. I prepped for the SATs.”
She slid a condescending look at me. “I know, I know,” I rushed to add. “I’m such a nerd. But I want to get into U-Dub. They have this international studies program that looks amazing. And, you know, I need to get a scholarship.”
“What classes did you sign up for?”
“Basically the same as last year. AP history, AP English, AP calculus.”
“Ughh. AP calculus? Why would you torture yourself like that?”
“Mom said it’ll look good when I apply. That and volunteer work. So I’m gonna volunteer at the nursing home in town. I start in a few weeks.”
“Eww, gross!” She wrinkled her nose. “Old people smell like pee.”
I laughed and pretended to hit her. “Don’t be mean! Besides, they have this therapeutic garden and greenhouse, so I’ll be helping out there, not changing diapers or anything. Anyway, if it makes my mom happy—”
“—it’ll keep her off your back.”
“No, I mean . . .”
It was what we always said, but I didn’t feel like that anymore. I’d learned a lot this summer, and finding out who my dad was and the reason my mom had lied about him was a big one. I guess I understood now that sometimes worry and love and control could get all jumbled up so you couldn’t really see the difference.
But I didn’t know how to explain that to Madison. I wasn’t sure I even wanted to.
“Madison!” A shout came from down the beach.
Madison lifted a hand to shade her eyes, and a few seconds later Peter jogged up to us, his pale face flushed red from the heat.
“Hey, gorgeous.” He leaned down and kissed Madison’s glossy lips. His loose tank top slipped down to show off his tan, muscled upper body.
“Hi, Olivia. How are you?” He said it in that same tone Madison had just used on me.
“I’m fine, thanks.” Irritation wedged in my throat.
“Just on my way to football practice and saw you lovely ladies.”
I’d forgotten that football practice started this week. That meant Tyler must be back in town. He hadn’t even texted me, though, which was weird. But then, we hadn’t spoken much all summer. Maybe it wasn’t weird. Maybe growing apart like this was good. It meant that breaking up with him would be easier. Or maybe I wouldn’t have to do it at all.
Peter turned to go, and at the last minute I shouted after him: “Say hi to Tyler for me!”
He gave me an odd look, his eyes flicking to Madison’s. They exchanged a fleeting glance before he turned and jogged away.
“What was that about?” I asked her.
“What?”
“You know. That look.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
My phone beeped an incoming text message. It was Derek, confirming I was coming over when Madison went to rehearsal in the afternoon. I typed a quick response.
“Who’s that?” Madison asked playfully. “You have a secret boyfriend?”
“What? No. Of course not.” My face blazed, going hot and itchy.
“You’re blushing.”
“It’s just . . . Tyler.”
Madison didn’t reply for so long that I finally glanced up. Her brow was furrowed, the corner of her bottom lip tucked under her front teeth.
“What?” I asked.
“Just, I thought, you know . . .”
I set my phone down next to me on the sun lounger. “Okay. What’s going on?”
“I thought you guys broke up.”
I laughed awkwardly. “Well, not that I know of. Why?”
Madison swept her hair up and fanned the back of her neck with one hand. “Do you want to go for a walk? You’re right. It’s pretty hot.”
She stood and moved to walk away.
“Wait.” I swung my legs around to the side of the sun lounger and grabbed her hand. “What’s going on, Mad? What aren’t you telling me?”
“I’m sorry, Olivia. I thought you were just too embarrassed to tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“Tyler told Peter he was going to break up with you.”
“Oh.” I was speechless. A wave of nausea swept over me, and I pressed a hand to my stomach.
“I guess he hasn’t yet?”
I shook my head and blew out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Her and Peter’s funny looks now made sense. They knew something I didn’t. Tyler had lied to me, too. Maybe not outright, but he’d held his plan to dump me close to his chest, the same way I had.
“I’m so, so, so sorry, Olivia. Please don’t tell Tyler I told you! You know how weird he can get.”
I swallowed hard. “Sure, of course. It’s fine. I guess I need to talk to him. It’s been a bizarre summer with him away and everything. We haven’t really talked that much, to be honest. I mean, you know, he’s in Seattle and I’m here, so . . .”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, fine,” I said vaguely. I inhaled through my nose, but the air was thick and soupy and I felt like my stomach was pitching about on the ocean.
“Are you sure you’re okay? Because you look like—”
But her last word was lost in the space between us as I turned and vomited up the banana and the bitter latte.
34
* * *
ABI
november
I huddled in my freezing car the next morning, a tepid cup of coffee grasped in my gloved hands, my eyes fixed across the street on the Montgomerys’ ornate black gate.
After a torrential dumping in the night, morning had dawned bright and clear, as had a fresh determination brewing inside of me. No matter what happened, I wanted to be able to tell Olivia’s daughter that I’d done everything I could to find out what had happened to her mother.
Kendall hadn’t told me everything. I was sure of it. I’d watched Gavin leave fifteen minutes ago, so whenever she left for school, I would be here waiting to talk to her.
My phone buzzed, and I glanced at it. It was my boss, Malcolm. He’d been bombarding me with calls and texts all morning. I knew I’d have to reply soon. I couldn’t keep putting it off. Only a few days of my leave of absence were left, and Malcolm needed to know he could count on me.
But I was so close to finding the truth. I could feel it.
Just then the gates clanged open, and a second later Kendall’s blue BMW Z4 soft-top nosed out of the drive. I shoved my door open and jumped out of my car.
“Kendall!” I waved to her, relief washing over me when she waved back and pulled her car up in front of mine.
She rolled down her window as I approached. “Hiya. What’s up?”
“There’ve been a few new developments about your dad in Olivia’s case. Do you have a minute to talk?”
She nodded. “Sure. Anything to help. You want to get in? It’s freezing.”
I climbed in her car, and she adjusted the heating to maximum. She wasn’t wearing a coat, just her Catholic schoolgirl uniform, which looked a little too naughty. The green tartan skirt was a little too short. Instead of tights she was wearing black knee-high socks paired with chunky ankle heels.
“Did he do it?” Kendall’s eyes gleamed with a weird light, and I knew my bait had worked. The girl would throw her dad under a bus if she could.
“I’m not sure,” I hedged. “That’s what I’m trying to find out. Did you ever hear your dad threaten Olivia? Or did she tell you he did?”
“Not really. No.”
“But he knew who she was, right? They met before?”
“Yeah, like once.”
I watched her, assessed her face, looking for any cracks in the stories she was spinning me. And I was sure now they were stories. She was playing me, spinning her version of the truth. The question was why, and what was the truth? I needed to know if Kendall really thought Gavin had hurt Olivia, or if she was covering for herself, projecting her responsibility onto him.
I knew from accounting that sometimes you had to take a step back, lo
ok at the big picture, the full set of numbers, see it from a different angle, so it could all begin to make sense. That’s what I needed to do now.
“What about when you followed them to the Black Cat Diner?” I said nonchalantly. “That’s at least twice they met. Did they meet besides that?”
Kendall’s jaw clenched defensively. “Who told you I followed them?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I replied. “What matters is whether you’re telling me the truth or not. Was it your dad who threatened Olivia? Or you?”
“I didn’t threaten her!” Her tone was defensive, snide as a spoiled child’s. She crossed her arms over her chest.
I sighed, exasperated with her attitude, my patience wearing thin.
“See, I’m not sure if I believe you anymore, Kendall. You tricked Olivia into coming to your house when the press was there, which risked exposing who Olivia was in the middle of your dad’s political campaign. You followed your dad and her when they met at the diner. Now you’ve told me they only met once, when I know for a fact they met at least twice. What else are you lying about?”
Kendall glared at me defiantly. “I don’t have to take this.”
“Did you have a score to settle with Olivia?”
“Of course not! I didn’t hurt Olivia. I was trying to help her! I told you this already!”
“You didn’t tell me you followed your dad and Olivia to that diner,” I countered.
“So?” Kendall snapped, her face a mottled pink. “I didn’t think it was important. Fine, you want to know what happened? Yes, I tricked Olivia into coming over so the media would find out about her. I wanted my dad to get caught.”
She reached up and ran her fingers through her shoulder-length blond hair and continued, “And yeah, I followed them to that scruffy diner. I heard my dad talking on the phone to Olivia that morning and I was mad, okay? I mean, my entire life he’s either ignored me or totally fucked everything up. All he cares about is money and his career, in that order. It doesn’t matter what I want, it has to fit in with his stupid career. That’s why he always has me volunteering with him for his community shit. The only reason I go to this ridiculous Catholic school is because he thinks it looks good for his campaign.” She plucked at her tartan skirt.
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