“Aidan. I need to speak to my daughter, and I’d like some privacy. Please.”
The “please” seemed to help.
“All right,” he said, grudgingly.
He stepped out into the rain, then stuck his head back in the car.
“Come inside when you’re done.” He slammed the door.
He’d taken my car keys again, of course. As the rain pounded the windshield, I dropped my head into my hands wearily. I was sick of this game and annoyed at myself. I’d dodged a bullet. If the surfers hadn’t stumbled into the cave when they did, Aidan would likely have forced himself on me. He could try that again if we were alone in his apartment. But my keys—I had to get them back. I could call the cops. I didn’t want to; it would be embarrassing for both of us. But he wasn’t leaving me much choice.
I opened my phone, contemplating whether to call 911. Then I remembered. The police would never help me. Aidan’s brother was the chief. It was my own fault for getting involved with a complete stranger. I wanted to scream. But the phone rang in my hands, startling me into dropping it and catching it again. It was Hannah.
“Hi, sweetheart,” I said. “I was about to call you.”
I heard soft snuffling on the other end of the line, and my stomach dropped.
“Oh, baby,” I said. “Hannah. Honey, please, don’t cry.”
“Mom? How could you do this?”
I paused. Was she taking Jason’s side, when he was the one who cheated?
“Me? What did I do?” I asked.
“How could you not tell me, Mom?” she said, her voice rising in grief.
“Oh. Well, I was working up to telling you.”
“If you guys split, it’s like my whole life was a lie.”
“This has nothing to do with you. It’s about Dad and me.”
“Were you purposely staying together until I left home? That makes me feel lied to.”
“No. Nothing like that.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were having problems?”
“I didn’t know, until the party.”
“You were going to let him leave the country, and not even tell me?”
“Leave the country? What are you talking about?”
“He said he’s going away on business for a while.”
“But—out of the country? Where?”
Hell, no. Not with my money, he wasn’t.
“I don’t know. Mexico or something? He’s coming here tonight to say goodbye to me.”
Mexico? I needed to see a lawyer, immediately.
“He’s coming to your dorm?”
“No. I don’t want to talk in front of my roommate. We’re going to a restaurant.”
“Which restaurant?”
“Why does that matter?”
“Hannah, I’m coming to that dinner,” I said.
“You’re not invited. He doesn’t want to talk to you.”
“He’s not allowed to decide that.”
She paused. “I mean, I think he is.”
I know that all the parenting books say don’t air your dirty laundry with your kids. Well, screw that. Jason betrayed me. Hannah deserved to know what sort of man her father was, so she could make an informed decision about whose side to take. Otherwise, she’d automatically take his side. I knew their relationship, and I could predict that with certainty.
“Hannah, listen to me. Your dad is treating me very badly. He’s cheating on me, and he refuses to see me or answer my calls. And he’s cut off all the bank accounts,” I said.
There was silence at the end of the line.
“Hannah?”
“I can’t believe he’d do that.”
“Well, he did.”
“What did you do to him?”
“Whose side are you on?”
But it was obvious. Hannah had always been a Daddy’s girl. It hurt me terribly, since I was the one who sacrificed everything for her, but I’d never been able to compete with their bond.
“I’m not on anybody’s side. It’s not about sides,” she said, but she was wrong. Or lying. Hannah knew it was about sides, and she was taking Jason’s.
“Did you know he brought his girlfriend to the party at the beach house? I bet he didn’t tell you that, huh? She’s a real piece of work, too, so slutty—”
“Mom, stop. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t even believe you.”
“You have to let me come to this dinner, Hannah.”
“Stop it. Can’t you see how awful this is for me? Dad isn’t acting crazy like this.”
“No, because he’s the one who left. He’s the guilty party. Don’t you see—”
“I have to go.”
“Hannah—”
“Goodbye, Mom.”
The phone said CALL ENDED. I stared at it, shell-shocked. My own daughter had hung up on me. And there it was. The ugly truth. Not only had Jason taken my money. He was taking my daughter, too.
There was a knock on the window. I looked up to see Aidan standing in the pouring rain, holding a bedraggled umbrella. He motioned to me to come inside. Insane as it was, I opened the door. I was hurting so badly from the phone call with Hannah. And Aidan was the only person in my life right now who seemed to want my company. Nothing so terrible had really happened in the cave. I didn’t actually know what he would have done if those surfers hadn’t showed up. If I kept saying no, he probably would’ve backed off.
As I watched, a middle-aged woman stepped out of the apartment next to his, letting out a scraggly-looking dog. The dog ran over and lifted his leg at the dumpster, while the woman retreated inside the metal screen door.
What was I so worried about? Aidan had neighbors. The walls in a place like this were paper-thin. If he tried to hurt me, I would scream. Nothing bad could happen.
I was wrong about that, too.
18
Aidan’s apartment was as bad inside as the outside foretold. A single room with a tiny kitchenette, it was shabby to the point of being squalid. But he took my coat like a gentleman. A coffeemaker perked cheerily on the kitchen counter.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said. “This apartment is a dump. The thing is, I don’t spend much time here. It’s just a place to crash. I got all my money tied up in investments.”
Investments? Right. Like I believed that.
“That’s smart,” I said. “And the apartment’s fine.”
The coffeemaker beeped. Aidan poured me a cup. I cradled it in my hands for warmth, then sipped carefully. The coffee was hot and strong, and my fingers began to defrost. Aidan rummaged in a closet and pulled out a fresh towel, which he draped around my shoulders. It smelled surprisingly clean. I put the coffee down and dried my hair.
“You look like a drowned rat,” he said, affection in his voice.
I hadn’t entirely forgotten his behavior in the cave. But if he continued to take care of me like this, I might be willing to forgive it, or at least view it as an anomaly.
“I feel like one,” I said. “Listen, thanks for the coffee, but I really need to go. I’m having dinner with my daughter tonight, and I need to see a lawyer first.”
I wasn’t making phony excuses. Hannah hadn’t invited me to her dinner with Jason, but I had every intention of showing up anyway, with legal papers in my hand if I could swing it. Jason was planning to flee the country with my money. If I had any hope of stopping him, I needed to act fast. I didn’t have time to get to that lawyer I’d canceled the appointment with in the city. But there was another lawyer on Lynn’s list whose office was much closer, in Port Jefferson, not far from Hannah’s school. I’d call and beg for an appointment and see if I could get papers drawn up quickly. I knew where Jason was going to be tonight—having dinner with our daughter at a restaurant near Stony Brook, where she went to school. I could track both their phones to get the exact location. From the sound of it, I’d better hurry, before he got on that plane to Mexico.
“Okay, I have to be at work, anyways,” Aidan said. “
But the thing is, my car’s still in the lot at the Red Anchor.”
“I can drop you there on my way,” I said, feeling suddenly generous.
I’d insist on being in the driver’s seat, of course. And when we got to the Red Anchor, he was damn well getting out.
“Yeah, all right. Let me take a quick shower and change.”
He opened a door across from the bed, revealing a minuscule bathroom.
“You’re welcome to join me,” he said, smiling over his shoulder.
In that pokey shower? We’d never fit. I kept my expression neutral and said nothing, and he looked disappointed. He let the door swing shut behind him. I heard the shower turn on.
While Aidan showered, I took the opportunity to make the rounds of the small room and examine his things. Given the circumstances, snooping felt urgent and necessary, like a matter of self-defense. I wanted to reclaim my car keys, to make sure he didn’t pull a fast one again and drive me where he liked.
On the narrow single bed, Aidan had laid out a fresh set of clothes, his bartending uniform for the night presumably. Jeans and a deep-green flannel shirt. That color will look nice with his eyes, I found myself thinking as I rifled through his pockets. Hmm, no keys. They weren’t on the bedside table, which held a rickety lamp and an ancient clock radio, along with Aidan’s wallet.
The wallet caught my eye. Here was an opportunity to do some investigating of the man I’d just spent the night with. Better late than never. The bathroom door was firmly shut, and the sound of running water came from behind it. My breath quickening, I picked up the wallet. It was thin and light—for a reason, it turned out. Inside, I found only a driver’s license, a debit card from the local bank, and seventeen dollars in cash. Investments. Right. This guy didn’t have two dimes to rub together. But that didn’t surprise me, nor did it tell me anything about Aidan that I didn’t already know. I looked at his driver’s license. Aidan had the same August birthday as my mother. He was twenty-seven—sixteen years younger than me.
I turned the wallet inside out, poking my finger into an interior slot until I hit cardboard. I worked the items out and examined them. A loyalty card from a pizza place in town with four holes punched in it. A faded photo of a middle-aged man who, from his resemblance to the police chief and to Aidan himself, was probably Aidan’s father. I turned it over. On the back, an inscription in boxy handwriting read simply, “Love, Dad.” There was a school photo of a pretty, dark-haired teenager in the fashion of ten years past; nothing written on the back of that one. And one business card. STEVEN M. FIGUEROA, it said. SUFFOLK COUNTY DEPARTMENT OF PROBATION.
Aidan had a probation officer.
Shit.
The water stopped. He was done showering. I took my phone from my pocket and snapped a picture of the card, then replaced it as fast as I could and put the wallet back where I’d found it. I still hadn’t found the car keys. My eyes darted around the room. Aidan’s coat hung on a hook by the front door. Of course: My keys were in his coat pocket. I started to cross to it, but something shiny caught my gaze. The drawer of the bedside table sat slightly ajar, a silver gleam emanating from inside. I pulled the drawer open, cringing at its loud squeak. Luckily the water from the sink had gone on at that moment, drowning out my snooping.
I eased the drawer all the way open, and my breath caught in my throat. The shine wasn’t coming from my car keys. A gun stared back at me—big, silver, angular, deadly-looking. I picked it up, and it was heavy in my hand. I turned it this way and that, holding it up to the light from the window, careful not to touch the trigger or point it at myself. Was it loaded? I was no expert. There was clearly a—a what do you call it?—a clip, in the handle, that could be removed, but I was afraid to take it out to check.
The water stopped. Blood pounding in my ears, I shoved the gun in the drawer and eased it closed, holding my breath for fear that I’d give myself away.
But the bathroom door stayed shut. I went over and searched the pockets of Aidan’s coat, breathing a sigh of deep relief as I pulled out my keys. When Aidan emerged from the bathroom a moment later, a towel cinched around his narrow waist, I had my coat on, my keys in hand, and I was ready to bolt out the door at the first sign of trouble.
“You’re in a hurry,” he said, and he didn’t look pleased.
He stood by the bedside table, inches from the gun. If he reached for it, I would run.
“Yes, I’ve been saying that. I’m meeting my daughter. Remember?” I said.
“Right.”
He seemed angry with me, but he didn’t say anything more. He dropped the towel and reached for his jeans. Despite my best intentions, I watched. Even now, with my deepening doubts about him, I couldn’t deny that he was gorgeous.
“Let’s go,” he said.
A few minutes later, I was driving him to work like everything was normal. We rode in comfortable silence like old acquaintances, friends even. Or like an older woman whose one-night stand with a younger guy was coming to a close, and they were both fine with it. We’d had our fun. It was over. Nobody was upset.
I worried it wouldn’t last.
19
Aidan couldn’t give Caroline riches. He couldn’t give her gold or diamonds or cars or designer handbags, not without robbing somebody anyway. Her shitty ex had an advantage on him there. But he could give her himself, his love, the things he was good at, the places he knew.
He took her to the cave, and she didn’t love it the way he did. He tried to see it through her eyes, and he understood. The place was his from way back, and the secretness of it was what made it precious. The things that had happened to him there over the years. The memories. Naturally she didn’t feel any of that. He tried to explain it to her, but she was too distracted by the lack of creature comforts. Yes, it was damp in there. The rock wasn’t a feather bed, even when he took off his jacket and laid it down for her like a blanket. She was used to the finer things, to always being safe and warm. He had to remember that.
“C’mere,” he said. “I’ll warm you up.”
He was gentle with her, like he’d never been with any woman. He was shocked at the depth of his feelings, but he’d fallen, hard and fast. He kissed her eyes, her lips, the hollow of her throat. He stroked her hair and removed just enough of her clothing so they could make love without exposing her velvet skin to the elements. She trembled under his hands. They stared into each other’s eyes, touched the deepest places in each other. The light filtered in from above. Water shimmered in reflection on the walls like they were inside an aquarium. He held her, with tears in his eyes. He belonged to her now, and she to him.
Then the surfers had to go and interrupt them and break the spell. It wasn’t until later, at Aidan’s apartment, that he realized how upset she was about being discovered. She must be, from the way she went all distant on him. He got it, kind of. She’d been seen, half naked. She had a reputation to maintain. Aidan admired that, envied it actually. His reputation had been shot to hell years ago, and he’d give his right arm to have it back now. He hadn’t known what it was worth till he lost it. Year after year of people giving him side-eye, never cutting him any slack. Refusing to forgive and forget. People who paid lip service to Jesus at church on Sunday, too, but that was a big fucking lie. Bunch of hypocrites, all of them.
It was on toward October, and the East End was wet and cold. Their fingers and lips were blue as they sat in her big, beautiful Escalade blasting the heater, trying to warm up. Aidan didn’t want to take Caroline to his apartment. He was afraid of what she’d think. But the rain beat on the windshield, and she was soaked and shivering. She wanted coffee, and she didn’t want to go to a restaurant. Afraid to be seen with him, probably. She had her reasons. He felt close enough to her now to brave her judgment. She knew him. She could see the soul in him, see through the stupid surfaces of things. She wouldn’t be troubled by the difference in their status in the world. She was better than that. So, he drove her to his apartment, and waited while
she talked to her daughter on the phone. Then he took a leap of faith and led her inside, full of hope and anxiety at the same time.
The second they walked in, he saw he’d made a terrible mistake. It was there in her eyes. Pity. Disgust. His worst nightmare. He’d been imagining they’d warm up in bed, picking up where they left off before the surfers barged in. But Caroline immediately started talking about leaving.
“What is it? Is it the apartment? It’s bad, right? I know I’m not rich, but I was hoping maybe you could get past it.”
“I would never hold that against you,” she said, her expression softening. “I didn’t come from money, you know.”
“I wondered. You seem like you do, but—”
“Not at all. I grew up more like you than you could imagine. Thank you for bringing me here. It shows your honesty.”
“Honesty is the only way to get close to someone, you know?”
She nodded. Her skin up close was luminous, her mouth lush. She was like a dream to him. He pulled her into his arms, and a minute later, they were back together, the way they should be. The way they belonged.
When it was over, they lay entangled in the sheets, and he caressed her hair, her face. He felt like he could tell her anything. He felt like he wanted to, so there would be no secrets between them. He couldn’t bear it if she heard the bad stuff from somebody else, and thought he’d lied to her, even by omission.
“You say you like that I was honest with you by bringing you here,” he began.
“Yes.”
“I want you to know me, Caroline. I want you to know everything about me.”
“That takes time,” she said. “No need to rush things.”
“Yeah, but there’s something I think you should know up front. Something about my past. So you don’t hear it from someone else.”
She raised herself on an elbow and looked at him quizzically. “Okay.”
With her eyes on him, he hesitated. What if it was too much? What if it drove her away? But she sensed his anxiety, reached out and squeezed his arm reassuringly.
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