Mom read a paperback book she’d scrounged from the dinosaur stack on a bookcase, and sipped iced tea on the wraparound deck during the day. Neither Jade nor Mom let Jesse or me out of their sights. We became brother and sister to the exterior world.
But I burned for him. We captured stolen kisses and short times alone in the woods where Jade refused to travel, sitting in Boulder City a few minutes each day. We didn’t hike long to avoid risking suspicion.
On Tuesday, Mom left to meet her realtor, who’d ultimately convinced her that she’d cover the mortgage and expenses by turning the cabin into a vacation rental, which meant we had to stash our personal belongings in a locked storage closet or cart it home. I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to return to the cabin where two-faced Dad marched to the egotistical and disrespectful tune of his own drums.
While Jade did nothing but laze around, she returned to bitch mode that evening. She rocketed into overdrive to criticize and throw smack after everything I did or said. If I wanted to hear snark twenty-four seven, I’d join Comedy Central and let everyone take his or her best shots. Blood lust fueled her snarkathon if Jesse wasn’t in the vicinity to shut her up, and I volleyed the snark over the disintegrating net holding us back from grinding each other into dust.
When Jade took a break, stiff silences and more palpable resentment ensued as we all absorbed our individual memories of Tahoe. In Jesse and Jade’s case, they had to reconcile memories of their mother’s presence. The intrusion of Jade and Jesse overshadowed my memories. Everything had changed and nothing was different.
Wednesday afternoon arrived, bringing Kristen in Mom’s car. She’d flown into San Jose from LA last night and had driven up alone. I’d just showered after tanning all afternoon when I heard her high-pitched voice escalate up the landing. I flew down the stairs, practically taking a header into the wooden stair rails in my excitement.
Jesse caught me in his arms, and I experienced knee-watering weakness hanging onto his tank top to halt my butt from kissing the floor. Such a forbidden touch in front of the family, such wonder and decadence, leaving me wanting to languish in his tanned arms forever.
“Been walking long, Vine?” Jade asked in her snarly tone.
“Ivy!” Kristen screamed, waving her arms. She lunged for me, hauling me off Jesse and into her bear hug. “You picking up my bad habits? I’m the one who falls down stairs. Or are you reminiscing about Dad smacking you around? The good old days of terror?”
Nice filter, Kristen. Works as well as a fishnet in the coffee maker. I stiffened in her baby powder-scented arms. “Nice to see you too,” I said. Her boobs stretched her pink, toddler-sized T-shirt into pinup territory.
“Puh-lease. Dad never smacked anyone around.” Jade fingered her nose ring, obviously curious about Kristen since she hadn’t run screaming from another Pink Palace Princess. Apparently, Mom had already made introductions. Darn. I missed Jade’s snarky Princess Pink comments. What will she nickname Kristen? Princess Boobalicious?
“Are you kidding me?” Kristen spun on Jade.
I shushed her, but she didn’t catch the clue, as usual. Jade was the only one in the room who didn’t know the Lynwood Dad. Holy cow of near misses. If anyone could burst her well-protected bubble, blame Kristen.
“You talking about Leo Lynwood? You’re delusional.” Kristen blinked rapidly.
“I don’t understand why you prince-asses have such hang-ups about him. Or why you’re glad he’s dead.” Jade’s defense of Jerkface, Mofo, Douchbag, and Asshat began. “You fucking owned the world growing up. A full-time father, nice house, a vacation home you used year round, anything you wanted, while Jesse and I got scraps when he breezed in and out of our lives. Part-time kids.” She hopped off the barstool and eased near Jesse, her silent safety net. We all stared at her, waiting for the shoe to drop off the precipice. This was the most she’d said at any one time since we’d met. The Rock explosion may jar the entire town of Tahoe.
“Dad loved me, Jesse, and my mom.” The Rock continued to roll downhill. “You Lynwood princesses sucked the money and life out of him. Guess he had to get his kicks with my mom. I can totally see how he’d want to smack sense into your money-grubbing blonde bobbleheads.” Jade, her attitude, and her army boots stomped out of the room, the floor juddering from her footsteps, quaking the house’s foundation along with the tiny and precarious foundation we’d established over the last two weeks.
Chapter 26
Kristen froze, her mouth like an open cavern luring flies and bats. “What the—?”
“Welcome to Lake Tahoe. Care for a side order of batshit crazy with Jade’s main course of nasty?” I flicked my finger under her chin to close her mouth. “You’ve missed a lot.” I balled my fists, ready to go apeshit on Jade, waiting for Mom to turn away. I just needed one second and Jade would wear my knuckles in her eye. Maybe sleeping in the same room might prove beneficial. She’d never see me coming… unless she slept with one eye open. Such wishful thinking.
Jesse studied his bare feet, afraid to look at Kristen’s radiant bewilderment. Or maybe he feared she’d go psycho princess on him. “I’ll check on her.”
“Let her stew.” Mom stabbed the knife into the wooden cutting board. “We’re all adjusting on our own timeframe and in our own way. Lashing out is cathartic for her.”
“Did you learn that piece of wisdom from your shrink?” I asked.
“Shrink? Mom’s seeing a shrink? Way to go.” Kristen fist-bumped the air. “Should’ve had her head shrunk ten years ago,” she mumbled for my hearing only.
“Come on.” I tugged her arm. “Let’s go sit in the gazebo. I’ll fill you in.”
“It’s a nice night to sit outside. Jesse, can you build a fire in the fire-pit?” Mom asked, ignoring the elephant bitch in the room, or I should say the one that just stomped out of the room.
“Sure. I’ll check out the boat for tomorrow too.” Passing me, he stroked his hand against my thigh, his fingers trailing over my butt, sending goosebumps up my spine.
Kristen and I grabbed sodas and settled in the gazebo in the backyard along the tree line. I brought her up to speed on life in the asylum, without mentioning my illegal fling.
“Wow. That’s some insanity. And Jesse,” she swatted a fly buzzing close to her over-sprayed hair, “he’s cute. Too bad he’s our half-brother.”
Straight-faced, I corrected her illusions. “He’s not. Dad adopted him.”
“Adopted? What the… what kind of crazy was he up to?” She scratched her head, trying to wrap her lobotomized mind around the complexities of adoption.
I gave a nonchalant shrug. “Whatevs. I guess he’s our brother for all intents and purposes.”
She playfully slapped my arm. “Oh. My. God. You like him, like him. Don’t lie.”
I buried my face in my hands. “You remember that boy I told you about at the wake? The one who kissed me, then disappeared.”
“No! Are you serious? Jesse?” Bouncing off the padded seat encircling the interior of the octagon gazebo, she came close to boinking her head against the ceiling.
“How do you think I felt when CPS dragged them into the house? Thinking I’d kissed my own brother?” I did air quotes.
She took a long chug of her soda. “At least you didn’t act on it further. Mom would’ve had twin freaking cows.”
Her words sank deep, drizzling dread inside me. Jesse and I couldn’t hide our feelings forever. People were bound to know. Hopefully, by then we’d be eighteen and he’d move out to his own place. I groaned. Headlines flashed: Brother moves out of family home to continue illicit affair with his sister. Mother shackles daughter in attic and feeds her powdered donuts laced with rat poison.
Jade, maxed out in black from newly dyed hair to scruffy combat boots, wandered over from the deck, saving me from myself. “Hello, Vine, Hollywood. Guess Dad loved me best ’cause he never hit me.” She collapsed onto a cushion opposite us, reclining against a column, a cigarette dangling from her c
urling lips.
I blew my last gasket. “Shut up, Rock. Shut the fuck up. You have no clue who or what Leo Lynwood was or what we suffered at his hands.”
Before I could swat the death stick out of her mouth, she lunged at me, pummeling me down flat on the cushion. My fist jabbed her middle before I grappled for her oh-so-enticing neck and flipped her over.
Her comment slayed me because the thought had percolated ever since we’d discovered J-squared. “You know less than I do about him and his motives.”
Snarling, she kicked at my legs, trying to knee me off her, finally wrapping her legs around mine, and rolling us both to the wooden deck, her on top. Kristen screamed and Jade’s fist jammed my side, her other hand clutching a lank of my hair. Despite the stinging pain sprouting tears, I gloried in my newfound ability to beat down on the clueless brat. All my pent-up frustration flowed out of my hands, but before they made further contact with Jade’s eyes, Kristen pulled me off her—not before she got in a kick to Jade’s thigh, her own contribution to bitch control.
Jade stilled, lying flat on the wooden floor, panting, eyes closed. I shrugged Kristen off me, straightened my torn blouse, and pushed back my tangled hair.
Jade’s eyes flitted open, and she slowly sat up on her knees. She combed her hands through her straw-black hair. “Maybe he hated your colorless blonde hair. Or maybe,” she held up a finger, a light bulb flicking on, “he loved his kids and women warm-blooded, not withering vines strangling his mansion and sucking up his energy and money.”
“You’re insane, psycho bitch.” I refused to let her goad me further. I refused to let her witness how her words hurt or held a smidge of truth. “Bite me, Morticia.”
Tiny crow’s-feet fanned the outer edges of Kristen’s eyes as she tried to follow the confusing name-calling. Birds warbled in the soft breeze flowing through the lattice, their trills glazing over the unhappiness and joyless air in the small space. I poised for Jade’s next barrage of smack.
“Dinner!” Mom yelled, ending our standoff. I swear she’d spotted a bead on our antagonism and tripped the trigger in the nick of time, saving us from another catfight.
In typical running-from-life fashion, Jade shot out of the gazebo before Kristen and I rose.
“She’s toons.” Kristen circled the air near her right ear.
“No. Really.” I stressed the words. “According to Mom and her therapist, she’s grieving. I wish she’d take her grief to the middle of the lake in a hole-rigged boat.”
“What’s with this therapist?” Kristen pushed up her bra and pulled her shirt down to expose more boobage.
I halted her on the steps to the back deck. “I need to talk to you about Mom.” I hadn’t planned to tell Kristen my suspicions, but they festered within me and I needed to unload before an ulcer set in.
“’Kay, later. Let’s scatter the ashes first. I can’t take much more.”
“Seriously? You just arrived. Leave all the negative shit to me, as usual.” I rammed past her up the stairs. Typical Kristen. She’d escaped to college and dumped the complexities of Mom and Dad on me, and she was still doing the same. Am I destined to be the voice of Lynwood reason for the rest of my frigging life? Who’ll rescue me from the precipice? Who’ll rescue me from becoming Leo Lynwood’s shadow?
“Ivy. Chill. I just tumbled into the snake pit. You’ve had time to adapt.”
“Watch out, Vine’s tongue will knock you sideways to Sunday.” Jade barked out an evil laugh from the window seat. My former favorite seat. I wanted done with this house, this family. I wanted only Jesse, the sun casting light on the dark side of my moon.
“Shut it, Jade.” Jesse slammed a log in the fireplace, clattering the kindling teepee he’d built around balls of newspaper. “She’s not bothering you.” He rose and stood over his sister. “Why can’t you leave her alone? What’s it gonna take? Dad’s dead. Mom’s dead. Our old life is dead. This is our life now. Can you give it—them—a chance?”
“Shut up, JJ. I don’t have to do squat.” She pushed past him and disappeared into the darkening screened porch with Shadow.
Holding up the end of our breakup bargain, Jesse walked away and my gaze followed him to the end of the dock, carrying my heart in his hands. He sat hunched over, legs dangling over the edge. I battled the need to go to him. He’d lost way more than me and never ranted about it, hardly talked about his mother except for the bare facts. But we’d come to a truce about our father and figuring out the real Leo Lynwood. The more we talked about him, the more Jesse turned on his adoptive father. Jesse’s turnaround saddened me, and I tried not to talk too much smack about Dad, especially when Jesse wanted to know everything about my life and my parental situation.
“Your spin, Kristen.” I faced her. “We’ve all blown head gaskets and Tahoe tantrums except you, and Mom.” I flicked a glance at Mom. “Oh right. Mom doesn’t do breakdowns. She takes the easy route to a bottle of pills.”
I fled the tangled emotions hovering over the cabin, smothering the dregs of the Lynwood and Jerome families. The gazebo became my new haven, where the festering burn in my belly ate another layer of intestines. The warble of birds evaporated in the wake of my disgust as night brought down the shadows of my altered reality.
Chapter 27
Jesse had the boat engine sputtering to life when we all trudged single file to the dock late the next morning, a somber and silent progression, each lost in our own minds. Pretty scary places, I might add. Jade had grabbed the urn holding Dad’s ashes off the fireplace mantle and cradled the cheap ceramic in her arms down to the boat. Did she think I’d do a grab and smash in the woods? She handed the gray and black ceramic coffin to Jesse, who secured bungee cords around it on the boat bottom. She settled her hand on top of it, securing it in her teensy tiny world.
“Wear life jackets,” Mom instructed in a no-nonsense tone. Jade obeyed without snarkasm, as though she actually wanted to wear a vest over her somber funeral black. Oh right, that’s her everyday death-warmed-over look.
Jesse steered the boat into the open waters. The engine chugged, straining at the slow speed. Kristen had already popped her motion sickness pill and was drifting off to Snoozeville. Mom had indulged in a pill or two too, and was drooping in her seat, hands glued to the float cushion under her thighs. Jade wore her usual smirk and dangling cigarette, puffs of smoke floating away in the wind. Mom asked her to stub it out, but she’d only lit another. Jesse remained silent, grunting out one-syllable responses when warranted.
Not caring what anyone thought, I sat next to him in the passenger seat. Jade didn’t try to come between us by snagging it first. Wonders. Never. Cease.
“You okay?” I raised my voice above the slapping of the boat on the water’s surface and the engine’s soft glugging. Wind batted my ponytail and escaped wisps of hair around my neck.
“You’re the only one okay,” Jade snarled. “Why would Jesse be okay? Why would any of us?” She flicked her cigarette butt in the lake. I hated her for polluting.
Fists curling, I shot back, “I wasn’t talking to you. Don’t be a tool. Try for something new today, Morticia.” I touched my necklace, fantasizing it shooting a vaporizing snort of fire in her direction.
Jesse threw a life jacket at Jade. It bounced off her arm and fell into the water. “Put a stopper in it for an hour. You can resume your snark when we dock again. Or how about never.”
Mom wobbled to her feet, clutching the ties to her life vest as if that helped her maintain her balance on the boat, and in her head. “I know this is a difficult day for all of you. I don’t think we need to make any speeches as we scatter his ashes, unless you want to.”
“It might be best if we keep whatever we want to say to ourselves. You know, keep it private between you and Dad,” Kristen slurred out, rocking a nice shade of green. Usually Mom beat her to swamp color.
“Deal.” Jesse plucked the new cigarette out of Jade’s mouth and stubbed it out on the floorboard. He snagged the
life jacket out of the water and tossed it on the bottom of the boat.
“What. Ever.” Jade slouched into her self-made hole-in-one, her hand remaining on the urn, her final connection to the father she loved.
I smiled at Jesse and he gave me a thumbs-up beneath the steering wheel. He drove the boat to the middle of the glass-smooth lake, and I checked out a cove to the right of the house, wondering if he and I could sneak over there absent prying eagle eyes. I desperately needed alone time with him, even if all we did was hold hands and sit on the rocky shore. Superman’s X-ray vision couldn’t pierce the secluded cove shrouded by the verdant forest of our inlet. The thick, shadowy woods gave me hope and the fading trill of the birds left my heart buoyant.
Clarity may not have infused our dysfunctional family that day, but a semblance of closure did, at least for me. Funny, how I’d tagged us dysfunctional Before Death and assumed my father’s death would change my life for the better. Yet I was parked in the middle of the most flawed malfunction, the freakish aftermath of his making.
Jesse cut the speed near the center of the lake, surrounded by hills dotted with trees, houses, and a slice of desolation. Away from our lush inlet, the hills’ desolation matched the mood in the boat—dry, quiet, rocky, and brown. The wind whispered a mournful tune, our hair flapping in response to its flimsy message, the song of the dead. The sun in the blue sky offered us a single message of peace and hope, but it was eons away, beyond our reach.
Carefully, Jade opened the urn and took a handful of ashes. By accident, Jesse and I dipped our hands into the urn at the same time. He trapped mine in his and squeezed, not caring if anyone busted us, but I made sure no one noticed. He let me take my small handful first. The ashes were gritty in my clenched fist, and the wind blew the residue off the back of my hand. But my skin crawled, and I wanted to dunk my hand in the water and rinse it off. Once we all held our handful, he gunned the boat.
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