The House on Hancock Hill (22 page)

“You have a beautiful home, Lizzie,” I said, trying it out for size. It felt strange on my tongue but not more so than Mom.

“You sound surprised.” Lizzie offered a lounger and sank down on the one opposite. They were both in the sun, and I was sweating already in my slacks, shirt, and sweater. I pulled off my sweater right away, took a glance at Lizzie’s bare feet, and kicked off my shoes and socks too. She watched me with mild amusement, but I didn’t feel confident enough to start in on my button-down.

“Lemonade?” she offered. The pitcher and two glasses on the little wicker table were the only sign she’d been expecting me.

“Sure.”

Silence fell as she poured and handed me a glass. I sipped. Too sugary for my taste, but it was cold so I was grateful.

“Why are you here, Jason?” The brusqueness of the question took me by surprise, and I straightened. My stunned silence went on for too long, because she added, “Do you need money?”

“What?” My voice rose an octave in astonishment, and I set the lemonade down for fear of dropping it. I regretted taking off all those clothes, because I felt imminent retreat looming.

“Then you know about Taylor.”

I gaped at her. “I—”

“Am I wrong? There are only two reasons I can think of why you’d call me out of the blue and demand to see me.” Her tone of voice didn’t change one bit. She still sounded as agreeable as when she’d opened the door and suggested I call her Lizzie, but her eyes were hard and the lines around her mouth finally disclosed her age and the years of drinking she must’ve done, if she wasn’t still doing it.

“I didn’t—” I stopped, because she was right. I had demanded to see her, and I was there about Taylor. Since she wasn’t sparing my feelings, I wasn’t going to coddle her either. “Taylor’s dead,” I said. “The farm burned down, and they found her body inside.”

A flash of something passed over her eyes, shadowy and fleeting; it was gone before I could get a handle on it. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said. “I never wished that girl any harm. What a waste.” She shook her head. Another curl tumbled over her shoulder. “She was twenty-six.”

As old as Alex would’ve been. I didn’t say it, knew I didn’t need to. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?” It wasn’t the question I’d meant to ask, but once it was out, I knew it was what I wanted to know the most.

All she said was, “Because he forbade me to.”

“Who?”

Lizzie barked a harsh laugh. It wasn’t a pleasant sound. “Your dad, who else? Said it would scar you for life. Never mind what it did to
me
.” She visibly reined herself in. “Not that it matters anymore. He managed to drive me away and keep you, the little copy of himself.”

“But all those years, and you never told me.” It would have been the perfect opportunity for her to cast darkness on the light Dad had been to me, and it made me angry to think she hadn’t done that. I realized it was because I’d never, in all the years of my life, felt like she’d cared for me. If she’d attempted to pull Dad off the pedestal I’d created for him, I would at least have had some sense of her wanting to fight for her only living child, but there had been nothing.

“What would you have had me say, hm?” She gave me a withering look.

“Did he… love her? The other woman, I mean?”

The smile she gave me was a little mean. “Your father was incapable of loving anyone. I don’t think he even loved himself.”

With an odd kind of detached curiosity, I felt myself getting angry on Dad’s behalf. I still had it in me to defend him, even after everything I’d found out. “He loved
me
,” I said fiercely. “For years, I was the center of his life. He cared for me while you were—” I fell silent, and Lizzie looked at me, as if she was waiting for me to say the words. When they didn’t come, she sighed.

“No, you’ve got it wrong, Jason. In you he saw a better version of himself. Your father didn’t know how to love. In a way, I should’ve expected that, I guess. His parents never hugged him, or kissed him, or told him they loved him. It’s like a missing gene in that family.”

“He loved me,” I repeated. Of that I was convinced, but I saw she didn’t believe me.

“One thing he was very good at was feeling guilty. He spent his remaining years making it up to you, which is something else entirely. Because guilt and the urge to be rid of it is inherently a selfish act, while loving someone is quite the opposite.” She indicated the place around her with a wave of her hand. “How do you think I could afford this house?”

“He bought it for you?”

Instead of answering, she said, “I gave up a career as a violinist for him, did you know that?” I didn’t. “I was set to fly to L.A. when I met him. I would’ve been a concertmaster for the
Phantom of the Opera
, but God, did he sweep me off my feet. And foolish, impressionable girl that I was, I let him. So handsome and clever… there was no way I could let him go and get on that plane.” She paused and sipped her lemonade, gaze averted and far away. She was remembering, but I didn’t know her at all so I couldn’t tell if that look meant she was remembering fondly or with regret. “It all blew up in my face, of course. Brian’s interest returned to his books and his classes very quickly but by then it was too late. There was no escape for me. I was pregnant with you, and suddenly I was this housewife, the exact life I never wanted. After that, I never played again.”

No wonder she’d hated me. Jesus. I didn’t know what to say. This wasn’t at all what I’d expected, and Lizzie must’ve seen it on my face.

“What’s the matter? Am I not telling you what you wanted to hear? Did you think I’d tell you I was such an awful wife, such a bitch, I drove him into the arms of that woman?” She looked at the sky. A pelican circled and dove into the water with a loud splash, resurfacing to perch on a post. I watched a fish flop in its beak before it was swallowed whole. I had an inkling how that fish felt. “I was pregnant with Alex when I found out about the affair. It was just a fling, which made it worse, really. If he’d actually fallen in love with someone, I could’ve forgiven him. By that time, any proof that he was capable of it, capable of caring for anything other than his classes and his books, would’ve been a relief.” Lizzie closed her eyes, head still tilted to the sky. She looked serene, and I had the distinct impression this was therapeutic for her. Well, at least someone was benefiting from this.

“They met at that awful farm up north. God, I
hated
that place. That small town mentality leeched me of the will to live, but he liked it for some reason. I think he liked knowing he was smarter than anyone there. And you loved it too.” She looked at me. I didn’t recognize this woman at all. “Two peas in a pod, you were. There was no room for me. But he did have room for that woman, maybe because she didn’t threaten to love him until death did them part.” A sadness came over her, but she shrugged it off.

“It was a bad idea, coming here.” I pulled my shoes on without bothering with the socks.

“If you came to vindicate him, then yes, it was.” She stood easily, as if she had expected me to bolt. Inside the house, she said, “You look good, Jason. Like him, but less… hard. If I’ve ever imparted any wisdom worth anything then let it be this: there is nothing worse than realizing the person you loved was only pretending. Don’t do that to someone.”

We reached the door. My hand was on the knob when she asked, “Do you have any kids?”

I shook my head. “I’m gay.” Now there was a surprise. I hadn’t kept it a secret but I hadn’t meant to volunteer it to her, either.

“Yes, I always thought you might be.” With that, she pushed me past the threshold and slammed the door in my face.

A
N
HOUR
later found me at Fort De Soto. The weather was warm, but the weekday afternoon ensured an empty beach, apart from a few anglers wading in the distance. I kicked off my shoes and rolled up my slacks before crossing the coarse sand littered with shells after what must’ve been a recent storm. On the pier, a man was casting nets to the great delight of a little boy, even though they came up empty when he reeled them back in. It reminded me of the times Dad and I had gone fishing, but I didn’t want to think about him or Mom anymore.

The water was cold, and I curled my toes against the wet sand in protest while the waves gently lapped at my ankles. In the distance, a huge freighter glided serenely across the hazy horizon. Sinking a little into the sand, I saw three stingrays pass too close for comfort. Pelicans swooped low just ahead of me, and a shadow of something huge rolled through the water a few yards away. It was very slow, no fins sticking out anywhere, so I guessed it was a manatee rather than a shark.
Henry would love this
, I thought, with a stab of physical pain. Such different wildlife than what we were used to in Michigan. Ours was a forested state, even surrounded as it was by all its lakes, while Florida was all about the ocean. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to experience anything again without wondering how it could’ve been with Henry by my side.

What had Henry meant when he said, “It’s time I got over you,” like it was long overdue? Unless he meant…. Oh God. I buried my face in my hands, tasting sea salt on my dry lips as I licked them. The way Henry had looked at me in those old photographs. He’d always been quick to put his arm around me and yet I’d never seen him do it to Johnny. No teenager can hide the unadulterated joy of being in love, and it had flowed freely from Henry. So much so even Annie had known. And I, late bloomer that I was, had had no idea. God, fifteen years.

“Henry,” I croaked to no one. It was quiet; even the noise from the seagulls seemed dulled. An odd, empty calm—one that comes with the realization of mistakes irreparably made—settled deep in the pit of my stomach. My limbs felt leaden. It was as if I could stand in this Florida sunshine forever, chained to the sand like a buoy, and never feel anything again. What I thought coming here would accomplish, I had no idea now. The deposit for my hotel reservation would be lost, but I didn’t care. I should just head back. It wasn’t fair to leave Alice alone over Easter.

Chapter 14

T
HE
FLIGHT
I managed to catch that same day was delayed by half an hour. It made me miss the one in Atlanta, and the one to Detroit after that, which meant I’d have to wait until the next day for a flight to Traverse City. I hired a car and drove the five hours without stopping, dropped the rental off at Cherry Capital airport, and took my Charger home. By the time I parked behind my building, it was dark. Vaguely, I thought I should feel more relieved to be back here, but the feeling of
home
didn’t come. The hollowness from Tampa hadn’t left me.

The bookshop closed at nine, the coffee shop that was part of it at seven. I sat inside my car staring at the building. Sometimes I still couldn’t believe it was all mine. I’d bought it on a whim after culinary school, and while at first I’d worried about having to rent out the space below, the bookshop did really well, and it was a nice little income on the side. Our family home by Hannah Park I’d sold after Dad died, when I was still in Boston. I hadn’t expected to come back here, but there had never been any regrets over leaving Boston behind. I’d invested the money from our house into the bakery, something that’d paid off tenfold by now.

Over the years, I had wondered if Dad made some sort of financial agreement with Mom. Well, now I knew.

The backdoor hallway I shared with the store smelled like new books and coffee, a combination I’d always found appealing, but tonight it got me down. Without bothering to turn on any lights, or even brush my teeth, I fell into bed.

While at the airport in Tampa, it had been my best intention to take Alice’s shift at the bakery the next day, but when I opened my eyes at 6:00 a.m. on Friday, nothing could’ve been more wearing than the thought of having to get out of bed. It was raining. I’d just had a hard week, so I figured it was all right just this once. I was so tired. I closed my eyes again.

Saturday wasn’t much better, but duty called, and I dragged myself from the covers straight into the shower, which at least made me look more human even if I didn’t feel it.

When I parked behind Sherwood, Alice’s car was already there.

“Jason,” she said when I pushed the back door open that led into a hallway where we kept our coats. She was shrugging into her white apron inside the office. “I didn’t expect you back until the day after tomorrow!”

“Yeah, I know.” I smiled weakly. I was still tired. “There wasn’t much point in staying.”

“Oh, did it not… go well?” She eyed me carefully.

“As well as could’ve been expected, I guess.” It looked like she was about to say something else, and talking about it was about as pleasant as sticking my head in the oven, so I changed the subject. “How did it go here?”

“Oh, no problems. You’ll have to make another one of those Easter bunnies though; it sold again yesterday morning. And a few people asked if you could do them a bit smaller and in solid chocolate.”