Storm of Secrets

by Loretta Marion

  I couldn’t get my head around Zoe’s decision to have an abortion. Zoe, who had always dreamed of a house full of children, who had tried but never became pregnant with Oliver.

  “I was the only other person who knew.” Evelyn spun her coffee cup absently. “I always suspected your Granny Fi found out, but I couldn’t be sure.”

  I knew Zoe had held some type of grudge against our grandmother; it wouldn’t be surprising if this drama was at the root of the animosity. It would also explain why Granny Fi had been so quick to escort me to the Planned Parenthood clinic for birth control when she learned of my own early sexual antics.

  “Do you think the abortion did some damage? Could it have been the cause of her infertility?” I asked, wanting and not wanting to know the answer.

  Evelyn rubbed her forehead pensively. “I doubt the fertility docs would have suggested IVF if there’d been some damage.”

  “Zoe went through in vitro fertilization?”

  “She never told you?”

  “Another of the many secrets my sister kept from me through the years.” I did not say anything about Zoe’s miscarriages, in case it was another secret my sister held onto. “The Mitchell Family Curse strikes again,” I said, only half-sarcastically. “So when did Teddy and Brooks connect?”

  Evelyn sipped her coffee. “Several years ago, Teddy became involved with an unsavory crowd. Theo asked Brooks to get involved. She thought he’d be a helpful influence.”

  “It’s funny.” I shook my head. “Ever since I met Teddy, I’ve been trying to figure out who he reminded me of. There’s so much of Brooks in him, now I can’t believe it took so long to make the connection.”

  “They both inherited the handsome gene for sure.”

  “Does Lu know that Teddy is Brooks’s son?” I was curious if she’d been genuinely surprised when I asked her, or a very good actress.

  “She knew about the fling and the breakup, but she was studying art history in Europe at the time.” Evelyn tipped her head from side to side. “She may not know everything.”

  I found this difficult to fathom. Lu, Zoe, Brooks, Evelyn, and her husband George had always been such a tight-knit group of friends.

  “I can tell by your face that you’re skeptical.” She tapped fingernails on the side of her coffee mug, chewing thoughtfully on her lower lip. “Look, Zoe made it a taboo subject, and George and I have always tried to honor her need to forget and move on. We never spoke of it again.”

  “Until now,” I said.

  “That’s right.”

  “At least Brooks is finally a part of Teddy’s life.”

  “I don’t think it’s a walk in the park quite yet for either of them. More of a work in progress.”

  A quick replay of the interactions I’d witnessed between the two men brought to mind Teddy’s hostility toward Brooks. I felt a sudden ache in my heart. Chalk up one more tragic tale of woe for Whale Rock.

  Evelyn reached across the table for my hands, and I gave hers a squeeze.

  “As hard as the truth can be to know, sometimes it’s the only way to heal.”

  “Now you sound like your Granny Fi.” Evelyn winked, lightening the mood a bit.

  “Really, thank you for telling me.”

  “Back to your original question about Brooks’s dating life …” Evelyn made a sour face. “I have heard that he’s been spending an unusual amount of time with Theo.”

  “I know he’s been helping Teddy convince his mother about a career choice,” I told her. “Maybe it’s as simple as that. At least I hope. I’d love to see Brooks and Zoe back together one day.”

  “With everything that’s been going on these past two weeks”—Evelyn lifted her shoulders—“I haven’t had an opportunity to talk with your sister. Is she going ahead with the divorce?”

  “I really don’t know what’s going on with that,” I lied.

  We heard the sound of George coming back from his Costco adventure. Having just learned the tragic story of Zoe and Brooks’s past, I wasn’t up for idle chitchat, so I slipped out the front door.

  It truly was a gift Evelyn had given me. I felt I now understood how there had been more to Zoe’s fleeing Whale Rock than the curse against our family. It broke my heart to think of all she had dealt with alone: the fear, the betrayal, the loss.

  At home, I took some time with Mama’s journals. Gypsy curled up at my feet on the porch as I caressed the pages of my mother’s writings. She wrote of the devastation resulting from each of her many miscarriages, about her own obsession with the Mitchell family curse, and of the terrible smells in the house that nearly drove her mad. But I was more convinced than ever that the stench had been Percy and Celeste’s deep expression of grief. First, all those lost Mitchell baby boys through Mama’s miscarriages. Then Zoe’s baby taken by an abortion. In their deep distress, I suspected Percy and Celeste had emitted an egregious odor to match their own misery.

  I wiped away the wetness from the tear that had spilled onto the final page. There was much more to learn, but not from the journal I held on my lap, which ended abruptly. There must be another journal, or journals, but I wouldn’t push for it just yet. Knowing all the heartache my sister had experienced, I vowed to be more patient and understanding.

  I was jarred from my deep fog of contemplation by the vibration of my phone against my hip. Perhaps psychic abilities were also in our genes.

  “Good morning, Zo-Zo. I was just thinking of you. You’ll be happy to know I have an appointment with Dr. Zane.”

  “I’m glad I don’t have to nag you anymore.”

  I updated her on everything that had happened in the aftermath of the storm, at least all that I was privileged to tell.

  “I need to tell you something, Zoe. Something that may be hard for you to talk about.”

  She hesitated before saying, “Okay.”

  “I’m sorry that I’ve bugged you about Brooks. I didn’t understand just how delicate the subject was until recently.” I took in a deep breath. “When you brought up Theo Howell and my friend Teddy being her son, it made me very curious. It took me a while, but I eventually figured out that Brooks is his father.”

  “Zo-Zo?” I said after an awkward silence.

  “I’m still here.” She cleared her throat before asking, “How did you manage to find out?”

  “Lots of little hints since you mentioned it. Mostly, Teddy has inherited Brooks’s good looks. I can send you a photo.”

  “No! I don’t need to see a photograph of his … love child,” she spit out the words.

  “Zoe, it’s ancient history now.”

  A cynical laugh followed. “You say that as if Brooks and Theo’s association is in the past.”

  “They do share a child, so I imagine there’s been the need for them to communicate over the years,” I said to placate her. “I do know he’s been going to bat for Teddy with Theo on some issues.”

  “What’s this Teddy like?”

  The question surprised me, but I told her, “He’s an awfully nice kid, Zoe.”

  This was met with more quiet.

  “This wouldn’t bother you if you didn’t still have feelings for Brooks, and I have no doubt he still pines for you. Otherwise, he’d have moved on by now, and he certainly wouldn’t be calling you.”

  She gave a little huff. “Might I remind you I’m still married.”

  “A marriage that’s about to end,” I shot back. “Regardless, if you let go of the disappointments of the past, maybe you can be open to the possibilities of a future with Brooks.”

  “You’re sounding more and more like Granny Fi every day.” I hoped that was a smile I heard in her tone.

  “I will take that as a compliment.”

  41

  Cassandra

  “You’ll hate saying goodbye to Gypsy,” Laura said, a few days later as we walked along the beach behind Whistler and Gypsy.

  “I know. I’ve grown attached to her.” The two dogs ran playfully ahead; it
was a shame it had taken them so long to make peace, especially now that Christopher was coming back for Gypsy. He was meeting later today with Edgar and Laura, in keeping his promise to help them with the book, and had been kind to include me.

  “What was the business that kept Christopher in New York?” Laura asked.

  “Remember those sealed documents from his early years of teaching? There’s a hearing.”

  She frowned. “But the Whale Rock cases have been resolved.”

  “Yes, however, the dean of Bridgewater Academy had been questioned, and that apparently brought Christopher’s past under scrutiny. The school’s administration put in a request to see the records.”

  Fortunately, Tyler Stendall had finally been persuaded to give his permission to unseal the documents. Christopher told me that it had been Zach Renner who’d pushed Tyler to finally come out and admit the truth. As Granny Fi used to say, “You’ll be happier being yourself instead of pretending to be someone else.”

  “I hope it works out.”

  “Me too. He’s a good guy.”

  “Hey, isn’t that Robyn?” Laura pointed to where Gypsy and Whistler were greeting another beach walker.

  “What gave her away? Those legs?” I waved as we got closer.

  She was giving the dogs her full attention and they were loving it. “I think I’ll miss Whistler more than anyone,” she told us.

  “Are you going somewhere?” Laura asked.

  “I’m selling Land’s End. The realtor said it will sell quickly.”

  “No doubt. It’s a great location.” I gazed out toward the bay and then back to Robyn. “Whale Rock will hate to see you go.”

  “No offense, but after everything that’s happened?” She wrinkled her freckled nose in a habit. “I think it’s time to start fresh somewhere else.”

  “You know Christopher is coming back today?” I said.

  She nodded. “I’m letting him stay through Labor Day. I’ll wait until he leaves to put it on the market.”

  “You’ve been a great neighbor,” Laura told her. “Keep in touch. Let us know where you land.”

  “We’ll have to plan our girls’ night before you leave.”

  “I could use a good stiff drink.” She laughed, then promised to call soon, but I had my doubts I’d hear from her again.

  * * *

  When Christopher arrived later that morning, Gypsy leaped up into his arms, licking his face with as much love and devotion as any creature could show for another.

  “It’s okay,” he told her over and over again while Sister Bernadetta watched the lovefest. After Gypsy finally settled, the threesome walked over to where I’d been waiting on the porch.

  “Welcome back to The Bluffs,” I told them.

  “Do you mind if I take Gypsy for a walk to your family graveyard?” Christopher asked. I suspected a visit would be more meaningful now that he knew that Barnacle Boy was the Antonio his mother had been trying to tell him about near the end of her life.

  “Of course,” I said, then sent a questioning look to Sister Bernadetta.

  She gave a subtle shake to her head and asked, “Mind if I sit here with you while Christopher goes?”

  “Not at all. I’ll get us something cold to drink,” I said after she took a rocker and began fanning herself with an issue of Ocean Navigator.

  “They say this heat wave will break soon.” I set a tall glass of lemonade on the side table.

  “Christopher needs time alone with Antonio.” She pointed westward. “Looks like storm clouds out there.”

  We sat in a respectful silence until she said, “It was another storm that brought great sadness to our family.”

  I unfolded the copy of the fifty-year-old article about the shipwreck that happened in Cape Cod Bay a few weeks before Barnacle Boy washed up on our shores. I handed it to her and asked, “Was it this storm?”

  She quickly perused the words and passed it back to me and nodded.

  “Were you there?” Laura, Edgar, and I had only been able to piece together small fragments of the story.

  “No. I had secretly entered the novitiate and had begun a period of seclusion. What I know I have learned from my brother and a friend of his. The two men who are mentioned in that article.” She lifted the glass, carefully wiping the condensation with her napkin before taking a drink. “My sister came to Whale Rock last year, trying to find the grave.”

  “Seriously?”

  “It was right before her treatment began, and she’d been visiting me in Boston. It was only later that I learned she’d hired one of those Uber drivers.” She gave a sad little shake to her head. “But they never found your home.”

  “It’s a little out of the way,” I said.

  “One of the articles mentioned Kinsey Cove as the location where Antonio’s body had been found.” She turned to look at me. “Your father was the one to find him?”

  I nodded.

  “She had the driver take her there. That’s where she finally said goodbye to her son. Christopher’s brother. My sister told me this the last time I saw her. That’s when she asked me to find his grave.”

  “The wildflowers were from you?”

  “Yes.”

  “The article didn’t mention that a little boy had been on the boat. No distress signal had been sent. No child reported overboard. No child reported missing at all.” I knew it wasn’t fair to be asking these questions, but I couldn’t help myself. “I’m sorry if you think I’m prying, but it’s hard to explain what”—I stopped myself from saying Barnacle Boy—“that lost little boy means to me. My grandmother used to tell me stories about him when I was little, and it’s almost as if he’s been a part of my family all these years.”

  “Your family had been so gracious to make sure a lost soul had a final home.” She offered that kindly smile of hers. “I shall tell you what I know, as much as I can before Christopher returns.”

  She took in a deep breath and began. At the end of the concise recounting, I knew the condensed version of Renata’s early life and how she later became Renée. I’d learned about the relationship she’d had with the wealthy Phillip Welles and the resulting pregnancy. It had been threats from the Welles family that had frightened her into hastily forming a plan to keep Antonio safe.

  “My brother, Vito, came up with a plan of escape.” Sister Bernadetta wiped at the wetness on her cheeks. “It ended badly.”

  “How did you find out?”

  “My brother’s friend—Thomas was his name—finally persuaded Mother Superior to let him see me. As soon as I saw his face, I knew the news was bad.” She rubbed her temples. “Not only had we lost Antonio, but my brother was gravely ill. Vito had searched for hours that first day and for many days afterward. He wouldn’t even leave to tell our sister. He sent Thomas, who told me Renata had been hysterical—understandably so—her horrific screams sending passersby scurrying away. And then Vito had become too ill to go see her, a serious lung infection. When I finally made it to his bedside, he was delirious.”

  “How terrible for both of them.”

  “My sister told me later that she couldn’t have borne seeing our brother. It had become unthinkable to face anyone who knew what had happened to her son. Then one day she simply slipped away.”

  “To New York,” I said. “The perfect place to lose oneself in the anonymity of crowds.”

  “Yes, and where she could hide from her most haunting regret: not allowing the Welles family to have Antonio, because then her son at least would have lived.”

  “I can’t imagine living with such a burden.”

  “As hard as it was to lose her, I understood that leaving had been her salvation.”

  I felt a kinship with Sister Bernadetta. Hadn’t my sister done the same—left our home and family to save herself?

  She pulled from her simple pocketbook a folded piece of paper and handed it to me.

  “A copy of Vito’s letter?” I asked after reading the first line, now translat
ed to English.

  She held her hand over mine and nodded toward the ridge where Christopher and Gypsy were approaching. Sister Bernadetta walked toward her nephew, leaving me alone with the translated version of the letter I’d found when first snooping in Christopher’s things.

  My dear sister,

  I am dying inside to write you this letter. If I wasn’t so ill myself, I would come to you and offer whatever comfort I could. I can barely face each day without Antonio, and cannot imagine how difficult it has been for you without your beautiful boy.

  You must believe me, had I known there was a chance of a storm so fierce, I would never have risked taking Tonio out on that boat. Thomas and I did everything we could to save our sweet boy, but we got caught by the devil and we lost. I should have come to you right away, but I was determined not to stop searching for Tonio until I could bring him to you alive and well.

  Every morning, I wake wishing I could have a second chance to relive the day we lost him and make different choices. But God will not allow it. He is punishing me for my pride and my foolishness. Why he has punished you and Antonio, I cannot answer.

  Some days I wish for death to take me as it almost did as I searched and searched for our Tonio. Death would relieve me of facing the awful truth. The priest Isabella has brought to me tells me it’s the coward’s way out. I have confessed the entire story, and he has absolved me of my sins. But I don’t care what the priest says or even what God thinks. I only care that you know the truth and can find a place in your heart for me again.

  Though I don’t deserve your forgiveness, I beg you for it. I would give up my own life to bring Antonio back to you.

  I love you,

  Vito

  How does one find the courage to face a tragedy as terrible as what befell Vito and Renée? The scent that surrounded me was light and sweet and comforting. I hoped my spirit guides would always be there to help protect me from such misfortune and heartbreak.