In All Deep Places (24 page)

Something dark and fiery veiled her eyes. He didn’t realize until
after he’d said it that he’d said the wrong thing.

“And I was sixteen!” Her eyes
were bright with anger. “I was
sixteen, and I was alone, afraid—and in love!”

The words shot out of her mouth like darts. He could not keep himself from trying to back away. He felt the chair back against him and stiffened. Hot tea spilled onto his fingers. The words he least expected to hear from her churned in his head.
In love. In love. In love.

“How could you have done that to me?” She continued in a
softer voice, but the sting in her accusation was no less. He felt it and flinched. He knew she meant, how could he have given up on her? But he was wondering how he could not have seen she’d fallen for him. He’d known she was alone and afraid. And he
had
wanted to help her but didn’t know how without sinking deeper himself.

But he’d never wanted to consider that while he had managed
to avoid falling in love with her, she had been unable to do that with
him. And he’d eventually willed himself to forget her—a little more
each day—because that was what he figured made the most sense. It had never occurred to him she would do the exact opposite. That she would spend every day—for who knows how long—waiting for him to come to her rescue, while he spent every day waiting for the memory of her to fade. An image of Téa came to mind, and he suddenly realized when his waiting had ended. He wondered for just a split second when Norah had stopped waiting.

“How could you have done that to me?” she said again.

“I didn’t know what to do,” he repeated.

“Is that really the best you can offer?” she said wearily, like she’d already heard this excuse many times before and it meant nothing.

“I’m sorry.” The silence that followed screamed at him. “Norah, did you ever try to call me after… after…” He didn’t know how to finish the sentence.
After what? After he forgot about her?

“I called Matt.”

She said the three words expressionlessly. They fell about his
ears like stones.

“When?”

“The summer you turned twenty. The summer you brought your girlfriend Amy home to meet your parents. I called
him to see where you were. He told me.”

Luke slumped back in his chair. He put the mug he held on the table next to him. “Why didn’t you just call
me?”
he said, looking
up at her.

“All those years I spent protecting myself from falling for you,”
Norah said quietly, as if she were not addressing him at all. Then
she fixed her gaze—and her voice—on him. “I gave your father
my address!
Wasn’t it obvious I expected you to write me? You just sent that one pitiful note that said nothing. I shouldn’t have had to call
you, Luke. I shouldn’t have had to chase you down.
You
kissed
me,
remember?”

“Norah, I—”

“I never expected that you, of all people, would just turn and
walk away from me. Especially then.”

The unbidden memory of running over to Nell’s house while
the civil-defense siren wailed and ushering Norah and Kieran safely
into his basement filled Luke’s mind. He had come after her then and led her to shelter. The tornado had whirled above their heads, sucking roofs off houses, but she’d been safe with him. But after that horrible day nearly a year later, everything had changed. He couldn’t charge in on his white horse and save the day. He hadn’t known where to begin. He hadn’t been sure he wanted to.

“I didn’t know!” he said.

“You didn’t know because you didn’t want to know!” she said, angrily, but very much in control. Luke felt his own anger enveloping him and became aware he was shaking. Norah was not.

“You stopped caring about me,” she added, clearly enunciating
every word.

“That’s not true, I…” He stopped in mid-
sentence. It
was
true. He
had
stopped caring. He had made himself
stop.

Luke eased back down in his chair. But he didn’t look at her.
“If I had known—”

“If you had known
what?”
She folded her arms across her
chest. “That I was afraid? That I was mired in grief for what had happened to my brother? That my mother went right back to her drugs? That I wanted you to come for me? You didn’t already
know
these things?”

“I didn’t know you were in love with me!”
At least that much was true. To a point. He hadn’t known how deeply she’d fallen. He’d thought she’d been able
to walk away from it as easily as he had.

She held his gaze, as if challenging him to withdraw his last
comment. When he didn’t, she spoke.

“How could you
not
have known?” she said, simply.

He had an unexplainable sense that Norah suddenly pitied
him. That she pitied someone who couldn’t see love when it was
right in front of him.

Had he really missed it? Had he really been that dense? He searched his mind for glimpses of the person he was when Norah was taken from him. He was suddenly aware of two truths. He’d been afraid. Afraid of two things. He’d been afraid for her, and he’d been afraid
of
her
.
He’d been afraid of her need for a savior because he knew he couldn’t save her from anything. And he hadn’t known how to point her heavenward. No, it wasn’t that he hadn’t known how. He’d just given up trying. It had been easier to give up. It had
been easier to forget.

“I’m so sorry, Norah. I should never have kissed you that day
in the tree house.”

She seemed to recoil when he said this. As if she’d been struck. And then she laughed sadly. “Why did you, then?” she whispered. “That was the only moment in my life when I felt like I really mattered to someone.” She had turned her face away, as if she were
speaking to no one.

“You’ve mattered to a lot of people, Norah. Kieran loved you. Your mother loved you. And despite all of her rough edges, I think
Nell loved you, too.”

“Ha!” Norah said, laughing again, but clearly in pain.

“The second time you went to your aunt’s house in Minnesota,
Nell cried outside on her back porch, Norah. I was in the tree
house. It was the saddest thing I’d ever heard. I could hardly bear to listen to her. That was the day you and Kieran left.”

“You heard her that day on the driveway, Luke,” she countered.
“When I found out I wasn’t really her granddaughter—”

“That was fear talking! She was desperate at
that point. When Belinda first came up the driveway, Nell told
her she wasn’t taking her grandchildren. She yelled it. Don’t you
remember how angry and afraid she was, Norah? She never wanted to have to choose between the two of you.”

More seconds of silence fell between them.

“Why did you come here?”

“I wanted to see you. I wanted to see how
you were doing. I know how close you were to Kieran. I know you
probably miss him very much.”

She watched him for a few seconds in silence. “That’s it?” she said, incredulous. “You disappear from my life for seventeen years, and then you just suddenly decide you want to see me? You came
all this way
to see how I’m doing?”

Something told him he should say,
No, there’s more,
but he just swallowed and said, “Yes. I came to see how you were.”

“Well, as you can see, I am just fine, Luke.”

She started to walk past him, like she was heading to her front door, ready to send him on his way. He reached out and stopped
her. His hold on her arm was tender but firm.

“Norah, please.”

She looked down at his hand on her arm and then eased herself
out of his grip.

“What do you want from me?” she said bitterly, searching his
eyes
for an explanation.

He hesitated a moment, afraid to reveal his selfish reason for wanting to see her. But he knew he owed her an honest answer.

“I want to know how it
ends,”
he said quietly.

She could only look back at him in confused silence.

“I want to know what happened in San Diego, Norah. I need to know what really happened to Kieran.”

N
orah studied his face, surely searching for a motive. Luke made no attempt to disguise his reasons for wanting to
know the truth about Kieran. Amid all the miscalculations he had
made about Norah, he needed to be assured he was right about
one thing—that she couldn’t possibly have killed for money. His mind provided an image of Eden Damaris, wearing the green dress and sitting in a windowsill signing the words,
A woman like Clarice Wilburt doesn’t kill for money. She kills for love.

“You surely read all about it in the newspapers,” Norah finally
said. “I killed Kieran for his half of the money. Everyone knows that.”

“That’s not true,” he didn’t take his eyes off
hers. “I refuse to
believe it.”

“So what? Who cares what you believe?”

“That note was real, wasn’t it?” he continued, ignoring the in
sult. “Kieran wrote that suicide note, didn’t he? He just couldn’t
take it anymore, could he? He didn’t want to go on living without the use of his legs. Even the money couldn’t make him happy. He
was tired of pretending he didn’t mourn the death of his dreams. It wasn’t just an ordinary whale-watching trip, was it? He didn’t just hurl himself overboard when you weren’t watching, did he?”

Norah’s eyes
were wide and unmoving. She said nothing.

“Kieran probably needed help,” Luke continued. “He couldn’t do it alone. Not the way he wanted to go. You had to help him.”

He paused for a moment to hopefully let this fresh revelation calm her into trusting him.

“It wasn’t about the money at all, was it?” he added a few seconds later.

For the first time since he’d arrived, she looked weak. She felt for the sofa arm behind her and sank into the cushions. Luke re
sumed his seat across from her.

“It never was about the money, was it, Norah?” he said softly.

She closed her eyes and took several long breaths. Then she opened her eyes and looked at him.

“I don’t have to explain anything to anyone.”

He waited.

“I did what I did because I loved my brother,” she said after a moment. “He deserved to have what he wanted. He should never have suffered the way he did. He just wanted to swim with the
whales. That’s all he ever wanted. So I let him.”

She fell silent as two tears escaped her eyes and glided down her
cheeks. She was looking past him to the long panes of glass in the
living room, but he knew she wasn’t really looking outside. She was
looking at a frothy ocean, choppy from March winds, broken here
and there by occasional flukes and barnacle-covered sides. Below her was a man in the water, desperately trying to swim without the
use of his legs. He was heaving himself toward the rolling beasts, smiling.

“Tell me what happened, Norah.”

At first she looked as if she had not heard him. But then she opened her mouth to speak, her eyes
glassy and unfocused as the
words came.

“He tried to do it by himself. But he just wasn’t strong enough.
He tried to do it when I wasn’t looking. But I heard him struggling
to get himself over the railing. We were at the back of the ship. All
the schoolchildren were in the front. We were alone.”

The words tumbled from Norah’s mouth in rambling fragments. Luke sensed she’d spoken of this to no one. He said nothing.

“I turned and saw he was out of his wheelchair and half over the railing. I ran over and tried to pull him back, and when I did, he said my name in the saddest way. That’s when I knew he
wanted
to go over. He wanted it. ‘Kieran, don’t!’ I said. And he just said
my name again in that sad way. ‘Norah, let me go,’ he said. ‘I’m
so close. I can see them.’ And I looked out over the water, and I saw two whales breaching, filling the air above them with spray. And then I helped him get his legs over the sides. He held onto the
railing. And I held onto him.”

Norah paused for a bit, poised at the moment of recollection. Her cheeks were wet and shiny.

“Then he told me again to let go. And at first I couldn’t. I was
crying into his hair and shaking and I wanted so badly to pull him
back over. ‘Let me go, Norah,’ he said again. He said it so gently. I tried and I couldn’t. I kept saying his name over and over. And he
kept saying, ‘Let me go, Norah. Let me go.’”

She paused for a moment. Luke could see she was reliving the horrible moment when she did what Kieran had asked of her.

“I took my hands off him and stepped away from the railing.
And he just hung there by his arms for a few seconds. Then… he
let go. I ran to the railing and looked out and he was trying so hard to swim. He was digging his arms into the water like he was dig
ging for treasure, trying to get as close to the whales as he could.
And I was crying. I wanted to be happy for him, but I couldn’t. Then someone from the other side of the boat saw him, just before he… slipped under. People were running over to my side of the ship
and I was standing there, sobbing and shouting Kieran’s name.”

Luke was vaguely aware that tears had begun to form in his eyes
and were slipping down his cheeks.

“There was a siren, or horn. It was so loud, and it scared all the
children. Someone threw in a life preserver. Then a lifeboat went
into the water. But he was already gone. The Coast Guard came.
I don’t remember much else. I don’t know when we got to shore. The next thing I remember is sitting by an ambulance. The Coast
Guard wanted to take me to a hospital. I hadn’t been able to tell them anything. I just kept calling his name.”

She stopped. She was still so instantly that he feared she’d withdrawn into some distant place in her mind where she wouldn’t hear him anymore. He started to reach across to her to try to bring her
back. But she turned slowly toward him as he leaned forward, and he could see in her face that a portal had closed. She had retreated
behind the wall of her bitterness. It seemed there would be no more
honest moments between them. Not today.

“Norah, I—” he began, but she didn’t want to hear whatever it
was he was going to say.

“I’d like for you to go now, please,” she said flatly.

“Norah, I don’t want to leave you like this,” he began, not realizing the deadly irony of his words. But she began to laugh.

“Oh, that’s good, Luke! You don’t want to leave me like this? Like
this? Like this?
This is nothing compared to how you left me before.” She stopped laughing, but she was looking at him with a hard grin on her face. “Besides, I have Kieran’s half of the money, remember? I am
rich.
I have this nice house. A new Jeep in the garage. Acres of privacy. I’ve got it all. So go ahead, Luke. Leave me.
Leave me like this!”

Her words hit him hard. But he tried to shake them off. He
couldn’t leave her there alone and in misery
again.
He had to get her away from her wretched place of isolation, if only for a little while. If he could somehow convince her to come back to Con
necticut with him… She could stay in The Lab while he and Téa
figured out a way to help her.
God, help me,
he pleaded in his heart.
Help me reach her.

“Norah, I don’t want you living the rest of your life alone and
bitter like this. It’s not how we’re meant to live!”

She sat back on the sofa, seemingly untouched by what he said. She narrowed her eyes and the focus of her voice.

“This isn’t about what
you
want, Luke. And who are you to say I’m bitter? You know
nothing
about me anymore. And what makes you think I’m alone? You think I’m still pining away after you? I’ve
had lovers, Luke. Plenty of them.”

He knew she meant for her words to cut him to the heart. He
tried not to recoil.

“I’m not talking about having money and someone to share your bed. I’m talking about having
peace.
And having people
to share your
life.”

She sat unmoving on the sofa, studying him, saying nothing.
He wondered if maybe she was on the brink of surrender.

“You live a fairy-tale life, Luke,” she said, without anger or
malice. “You always have. It’s just like Nell always said about you
and your family when Kieran and I lived with her. We lived next
door to Paradise. That’s where you lived. That’s where you’ve always
lived. You don’t have the faintest clue about what it’s like to truly
suffer. You go ahead and live happily ever after. Go ahead.”

He could only stare as her words fell on him. He didn’t know what else to do.

“Please come with me, Norah. It’s not a fairy “tale—it’s the real thing. Please come with me. Téa and I have room at our house—”

She interrupted him with a laugh. “Téa and
you?
You
are
naive,
Luke.”

He ignored the comment. “Please, come with me,” he tried
again.

She blinked but held his gaze. A few moments of loaded silence
hung between them.

“No.”

He suddenly knew it was fruitless to try and convince her. It
would not happen today. He couldn’t picture it happening at all, but he would not do what he’d done seventeen years ago. He would not forget her. He rose slowly, ready to go, and sad from the knowledge
of how it ended. At least for now. Then he suddenly thought of what
lay in his pocket—the poem Norah had once written about creatures that cannot see the world of light and air above them. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the folded piece of paper, wondering if through her own words she would see what he could see.

“I found this in my old room,” he said, handing it to her. “I thought you might want it back.”

Her first reaction was reluctant curiosity. She stood up, took the paper, and unfolded it, seeming only casually interested in what
he’d brought from their shared past. But when she saw the faded
ink and the tender words of a young girl who seemed to have understood so much, the tightness left her face. But she did not ap
pear to be at ease. On the contrary, the words of the poem seemed to involuntarily subdue her. She looked defenseless and afraid.

Luke followed her eyes
across the page. He saw her take in every word.

Underneath the rocking sea

In the shadows of the deep

The mighty kings in silent rule

Swim the lengths of the salty pool

Blast of steam, plume of spray

Tails and fins like pennants wave

But barely touch the world of man

Content to stay where time began

No show of force to change or scorn

Nature’s way Earth’s slow turn

Unconcerned or unaware

That a world of light and air

Is not far; just there it lies

Just above their hooded eyes.

“You kept this,” she said quietly, with no inflection in her voice.

“Yes,” he said. “I love this poem. I loved it from the moment I
first read it.”

She said nothing as she fingered the page, not taking her eyes off the piece of paper in her hand.

For a moment, she looked as if she might give way to tears.
Whether tears of regret or tears of desperation, he wasn’t sure, but
he imagined either would be a beginning of healing for her. But the moment passed. She folded the paper and tossed it onto her coffee
table like it was yesterday’s grocery list. There didn’t appear to be
anything more he could do or say today to change anything.

“May I call or write you from time to time?” he asked.

She laughed.

“You can do whatever you want, Luke. Just keep in mind you’re
a married man.”

He winced. He’d meant nothing improper by his request. He started to walk toward the door, and she followed. He was inches
from the door. Inches from leaving her—and he hadn’t told her everything. He turned back.

“Norah, I’m writing a book, a memoir really, about what I…
what
we
went through as kids. I think there’s something to be learned from what happened to us. I—”

She interrupted him with a laugh. “Something to be
learned?
Just what you do you think we have learned,
Luke? I am very curious. Tell me!”

Her gaze was steel. It reminded him of Nell. He shook the
image from his head and tried to gaze back into those hardened
eyes.

“I’ve learned that this life isn’t all there is, Norah.”

For a moment he thought she was actually picturing to herself
something endless and beautiful, but the glimmer in her eyes lasted
but a second.

“Congratulations, Luke. You’ll be valedictorian for sure.”

There had to be a better way to say what he wanted to say. He thought of his father, then, sitting with him in the tree house
on a cold Thanksgiving afternoon. He remembered that when they
had climbed back into his bedroom the savory, blended aromas of sage, onion, and celery had enveloped them. He could almost smell it. The fragrance of heaven.

It was within reach. Not so far away. Just next door.