by Marni Mann
“Watch…me?”
He nodded.
“And why would you want to do that?”
“Because you’re a hell of a swimmer,” he said.
“That’s your reasoning?”
There was no way I could continue my workout while he sat on the rocks and watched. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on my strokes, to unwind, to find the peace I used that water for. Even though Saint brought me silence, having him here as an observer would be a distraction.
He kicked his legs under the water and his hips shifted from side to side. The movement showed me some of his rhythm…he looked as if he had power and endurance. It made me blush. “Your body glides over that sea like…” He paused, taking several breaths. Each time he exhaled, a stream of white steam came from his mouth and mixed in with the air. “Like you need to be in there just to feel normal. I know that feeling.”
When I met Rae, there was a pain in her eyes that I understood. I had no idea what the source of hers was or how she dealt with it, if she did at all. But it didn’t matter. We had that in common: a difficult emotion. At the restaurant, I realized I saw a similar amount of suffering in Saint’s eyes, too. People in pain were drawn to each other. That was what pulled me to him.
There was no way I was going to talk to him about my pain. But it didn’t mean I had to deny that what he’d said was true.
“I do feel normal when I’m in here,” I said.
“And is water the only thing that makes you feel that way?”
I hesitated before answering. “Yes.”
“You’ll find others,” he said. His hands moved to his thighs; his shoulders rounded and his back hunched forward a little. He gazed down at his fingers while he rubbed them in circles, then back up at me. “Just be careful…some of those other things will hurt more than they’ll help.”
I knew from his tone that he was talking from experience. I wondered if he used those other ways as much as he swam, or if he was running from them like they were demons.
“I don’t know how I’d ever find them,” I said. “I barely even leave the house.”
“They’ll find you.”
It was a warning, and a sincere one. I didn’t quite know how to process his message, how to prepare myself for something like that. And really, it just added more questions to my Saint list. Where else had he found his release? Maybe a better question was who else, if my suspicions about the answer were true.
His hands finally landed at his sides as he pushed himself to his feet.
“You’re leaving already?” I asked.
“If I keep talking to you, you’re not going to get any swimming done.”
I was good with that. I didn’t want to swim anymore, at least not in that moment. I wanted more of his voice and his attention. I wanted more of him…I just didn’t know how much or what exactly that would entail.
But as I stared at him, it looked like what he needed was the water.
I palmed the rocks, kicked my legs as hard as I could and pushed down, trying to pull myself out of the ocean. I only rose a few inches before his hands were under my arms. He lifted me straight out of the water. It was a seamless, steady float through the air until my feet were gently placed on the ground. For those few seconds, I felt weightless. I felt like motion was beyond my control, and my concern. I felt attended to. And I liked all of it.
I stood in front of him in the same place he had set me down, my lungs tightening. Every muscle began to wobble. I knew I wasn’t going to lose my balance or fall, but the unsteadiness still consumed my body. It owned my emotions. Saint’s touch had done something to me.
It had shown me something stronger than I was prepared to feel.
I didn’t get a chance to speak. I didn’t even really get a chance to react before he threw off his wife-beater and dove into the water. I watched as he streamlined across the large pool. He really was a skilled swimmer; his strokes were clean and tailored, there wasn’t much drag when he moved. He alternated his breaths, his kicks barely made any splash.
His body glided over that sea like he needed to be in there just to feel normal.
Just like me.
I picked up the towel I had left on the rocks and wrapped it around my body. Bella licked the drops of water off my feet. My eyes were stinging for Saint, knowing how hard it was to keep them closed when the risk of getting too close to the rocks occurred. So before Bella and I went back inside the house, I tossed my goggles into his path. Glancing over my shoulder as I made my way up the lawn, I watched him stop, strap the goggles over his head and continue swimming.
I wondered if he planned on returning them and when it would happen.
The unknown pulsated through my body like the flash of a camera, though it lasted much longer than that.
***
I was really trying to stay out of Brady and Shane’s way while they tore apart the house, so I’d camped out on the back lawn reading the headlines on my tablet. Bella and I were bored—bored with being stuck in Maine, bored with driving up Cadillac Mountain and hiking around Acadia National Park. But we couldn’t spend the entire day in the water.
“Do you have plans tomorrow night?” Brady asked, moving to my side.
I hadn’t heard him come outside before he had spoken. Neither had Bella as she was on her back in a deep sleep, all four paws high in the air, snoring. The grass here was so much different, the blades were soft and flexible unlike the sharp spikes of sod we had in Florida. Bella seemed to really love it.
“Not exactly,” I replied.
He knelt in front of her and scratched her belly. “One of my friends is having a party. Why don’t you come? You need to get out of this house and have some fun.”
I did get out. In fact, I was hardly ever inside. But I knew that’s not what he meant. And as for having fun, he was right. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had any.
“You know,” he continued, “when my dad and I do jobs, usually the owners take off during the day until we’re done. But since you’re here all the time, I figured you could use a little break.”
I ran the grass through my fingers, pulling at some of the longer pieces. The knot that liked to plunge into my throat and threaten tears was making an appearance again. “I don’t have anywhere to go.” The knot wasn’t there because I felt sorry for myself. It was there because of the situation that had driven me to Maine in the first place.
He sat directly beside me, his other hand coming to rest on my shoulder. It wasn’t a seductive move by any means; it was a comforting one. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad, Drew. I was trying to convince you to come out with me.”
The last thing I wanted was to upset Brady. He was one of the only people I talked to up here besides Saint who was really starting to mess with my head. He had left the goggles on the back steps of the house this morning with a note that said he would see me again tonight. “I’ll go to the party with you,” I told him. “I’m just trying to figure out my place in all this. I’m still having a hard time even believing that I’m here.”
“You mean at this house?”
I shook my head. “More than that. Until a few weeks ago, I didn’t know this part of my life existed.”
“Part of your life…” he repeated in a whisper. “You mean, you didn’t know your grandparents lived in Maine?”
“I didn’t know I even had grandparents who had been alive all these years. Or an aunt.”
“That’s so fucked up.” I could tell by his expression how truly surprised he was.
“I don’t know why my mom didn’t tell me.”
“And now that she’s…” His voice trailed off and he took a deep breath before he continued. “You must have a lot of questions?”
“All I have are questions.” It was true; I had no family, no real home that I wanted to go to. All I had was Bella and huge gaps in the life I thought I knew before it all caved in. I glanced at the water, skimming the shallow waves. I hadn’t asked him
much. I wasn’t sure I wanted the answers.
But it was time.
My eyes met his again. “You don’t know anything about my mom, do you?”
He shook his head.
Something in the distance caught my attention. It was Saint. He was walking down the dock toward his boat wearing another dark hoodie and a pair of worn jeans. He must have just gotten out of work. When he reached the door to the cabin, he twisted around, his face pointing directly at me. He stayed frozen for several seconds, then went inside and shut the door behind him. There was too much space between us to know for sure that he’d seen me, but I knew he had. The feeling that spread through my body told me so…it was the one I always got whenever his stare found me.
“Why haven’t you asked my dad?” Brady said, bringing my attention back to him. “He would definitely know something about your mom.”
“Did they go to school together?”
His eyes widened and so did his lips. “You really don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?”
“My dad was part of your family.”
I turned my whole body toward him and pushed my hands into the ground to hold my weight. “He was part of my family?”
He nodded. “He was married to your aunt.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
I COULD HARDLY PROCESS WHAT BRADY HAD SAID. “Shane was married…to my Aunt Shirley?” The man who was inside the Coswells’ house at this very moment had been my uncle at one point…that was how he knew the layout of the place so well, and how he’d been able to tell Brady about the amazing view out back. But why hadn’t he said anything to me about it?
Did that mean Brady and I were…cousins?
I had to know. “Are we—”
“No,” he said, shaking his head, “we’re not related.”
My mouth was failing me as much as my mind. Despite how cluttered everything felt, the words and the questions were in there. I was just having a hard time getting them out.
Brady saw my confusion. “My dad wasn’t married to your aunt for very long. Right after they separated, he got my mom pregnant. They didn’t last either, but he stuck around Bar Harbor…for me, I guess.”
I sank my hands into the grass and pushed myself up. Just as I got to my feet, I said, “I need to talk to your dad.”
“Go ahead,” he said. “But about the party tonight, how about I pick you up at seven?”
“See you then,” I yelled over my shoulder.
I jogged across the lawn and up the back steps, searching the rooms until I found Shane. He was on his hands and knees in the bathroom, half of his body buried in the cabinet under the sink.
“You were married to Shirley?” I asked from the doorway. The words flew from my mouth.
“What?” He lifted his head and banged it right into the cabinet. “Damn.” He rubbed his fingers over the sore spot as he stood and swiveled on his heels to face me. “I thought you knew.”
“I know nothing.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t bring it up…I thought maybe it was a sensitive subject.” He ran his fingers through his rich brown hair. “Shit, Shirl and I were married such a long time ago. Twenty years, at least.”
I moved into the bathroom and took a seat on the edge of the shower. Suddenly I had a source of information at my disposal. “Will you tell me about my family?”
His teal eyes studied my face. “Your mom never told you any of this?”
Before I answered, I took a second to think about what I’d just asked. Once Shane told me the truth, I wouldn’t be able to forget it. I would have to live with whatever he said, even if that led to more questions. And no matter what, I wouldn’t be able to get my mom’s side of the story. I knew this could change everything.
Did I really want to know?
“No, she didn’t tell me,” I said.
He leaned back against the wall with his side pressed into the cabinet and crossed his arms over his stomach. “Bar Harbor is such a small town…I’d known your mom since I was a kid.” He paused as if he was figuring out what else he should say. I didn’t push him. I wanted to know it all. I watched as the memory spread affection over his face. “Rebecca was this loud little thing with long wild hair and bright blue eyes. She knew how to use her looks, that’s for sure. She had a mouth on her, too. Not one you’d expect from someone with such a tiny frame, but she sure as hell knew how to be heard.”
It was surreal listening to him describe my mother, how different she was then from how she’d been when I knew her. At forty-five, she didn’t exactly need to use her looks to get what she wanted—not with me, anyway—but her words were witty and convincing when they needed to be.
“Shirley was just the opposite,” he continued, “quiet, reserved…the one who got perfect grades and never caused any trouble. The sisters had nothing in common—Rebecca made sure of that. She didn’t want to be in Shirley’s shadow; she wanted the spotlight. You see, Shirley and I were two years older than your mom. We dated all through high school, and I proposed at our homecoming dance. We got married in July, two months after we graduated. Your mom didn’t come to our wedding…” His voice trailed off, as if he was caught up in another memory.
“Shane?”
His eyes popped back over to me. “Sorry. You know, now that I think about it, she never even made it to our graduation. She left a few weeks before.”
“She left?”
He nodded. “Took off with the Coswells’ gardener.”
That was my dad...but that wasn’t how my mom had told the story. In her version, she’d graduated from high school before she and my father had left for Florida. She never mentioned anything about leaving during her sophomore year. That meant she would have only been…
Sixteen years old?
“But she came back at some point…right?”
“No,” he answered. “Once she left, she never returned. There was lots of talk, but I didn’t listen to any of it. You can’t believe the hens that cluck around here, anyway. They feed off that kind of gossip and spread it like a plague. Your grandparents were extremely strict. I would know, of course. But I also knew your mom, and if she wanted something, she went after it.” A smile lit up his cheeks but disappeared quickly. “If I was to guess, I’d say your mom didn’t want to follow your grandparents’ rules anymore, so she took off with him. Never even caught the guy’s name. And then, no one in this town ever heard from her again.” He looked at me as if he knew the next line in the story was mine to add.
He was right.
“The guy’s name was Kyle,” I whispered, “and he was my dad.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I SPENT THE NEXT FEW HOURS OUTSIDE waiting for Shane and Brady to leave for the night, though my brain was anything but idle. Every word Shane had said repeated in a loop in my head. None of it explained why my mom left Maine or why she never visited again, why she had no contact with her parents or sister—or why she had lied to me for all these years.
I just wanted to ask her. And I wanted her to tell me not to be upset with her for leaving me in the dark, for keeping this all a secret because her reason was a good one. Then I wanted to wrap my arms around her neck and rest my cheek against the top of her chest, listening to her breathe underneath me. I wanted her mommy scent to fill me. But since I would never have any of that ever again, I’d have to settle for her room.
As soon as I heard their trucks backing out of the driveway, I ran into the house and went straight up the stairs. My hand was on the doorknob of my mom’s room, and my whole body turned stiff. My fingers froze against the metal. I hadn’t spent much time up here—only when Shane called me upstairs to answer questions.
I’d looked inside her room the day I’d arrived, but I hadn’t been in it yet. I hadn’t been ready…until now.
I leaned my forehead against the closed door. My deep breaths did nothing to settle my stomach or to stop my hands from shaking or my knees from feeling weak. I knew something of hers was behind
this wall—her childhood memories, proof that she had really existed in this family. Items of hers that I’d be able to touch, hold, smell…things that could bring me closer to her. Possibly even answers to the mysteries she’d left behind.
I just wanted to get this over and be finished with it.
Though maybe it would be just the beginning of something instead.
I kept my eyes closed as I turned the handle and moved slowly into the room. The smell in here was nothing like her. There was no fresh grass or the jasmine that wafted endlessly from her skin. My feet inched forward; I found the bed using nothing but my hands. I sat on it carefully, pulling my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them.
One.
It was just a number that I spoke in my head, but it felt so heavy… so many questions lay ahead.
Two.
It was just her room, I reminded myself. No matter how long I counted, she wasn’t going to be in here at the end of it.
Three.
When I opened my eyes, nothing happened. I didn’t start crying or lose my breath; my mom didn’t appear before me in any manner. Instead, I saw her wooden dresser along the far wall, a few picture frames and a lamp. There was an open jewelry box, with necklaces hanging along the side, and a nightstand next to the bed. The comforter beneath me was white with pink and black stars and squiggles. There was a bookshelf on the other side of the room that overflowed with teen titles, and posters of the Beastie Boys, Nirvana, and Pearl Jam covered almost every inch of the walls. Clothes hung in her closet and some were thrown on the floor. The only thing that was tidy was her perfectly-made bed.
It felt like nothing had changed since the last time my mom had been in here. For all these years, had the Coswells really left everything exactly the way it was? Why hadn’t they boxed her things or converted the room into something other than a memory of my mom? She’d left, not died…not until now.
Getting up from the bed, I ran the tips of my fingers along her dresser, across her mirror and down each necklace. There was a book next to her jewelry box, resting upside-down. I flipped it over and read the title: Botanical Dictionary. Some of the illustrations inside were circled, others had notes written next to them in my mom’s handwriting…