Waiting for the Storm (16 page)

“But then we’ll be even heavier,” I said, backing away from him.

“Charlotte,” he said patiently, straightening to look at me, his lips twitching with the effort not to laugh. “You heard what the guide in the elevator said. It’s, like, five times stronger than the required weight-bearing laws.” He turned around again. “Now hop on.”

I sucked in a breath, and before I could lose my nerve I hopped onto his back. He grabbed the backs of my legs and stood up straight, adjusting us so I wouldn’t fall. “Ready?”

“No,” I squeaked, but he stepped forward anyway. I closed my eyes and buried my face in his shoulder. His body was tense as he took a few steps, then stopped, letting out a low laugh.

I opened my eyes and tentatively looked over his shoulder. My stomach dropped and my heart leapt into my mouth as I looked 1,122 feet down to the ground below. “Holy crap,” I breathed.

“That’s pretty much what I was thinking,” Ezra said. “This is
amazing
.”

I wrapped my arms tighter around him, hugging him awkwardly from behind. He squeezed my legs, and the two of us stood there and looked down in awe.

Ezra pulled out his phone and asked a woman nearby if she’d take a couple shots of us. She grinned at us as she snapped away, then handed the phone back. “You guys are too cute,” she said. “My husband never gave me a piggy back ride.” She winked at me, and left to join a group of women standing back from the glass floor.

“We’re cute,” I whispered in Ezra’s ear, and he chuckled quietly.

I slipped from his back when he stepped onto the regular floor, and he took my hand and led me to the windows so we could get a panoramic view of the city. Ezra took a few more pictures on his phone, including a couple of us standing close together and smiling into the camera with the horizon behind us.

“I’m really glad we did this,” I told Ezra as we plummeted back to the ground in the super-fast elevator.

“Me too,” he agreed. “It just seemed like too good an opportunity when we were right here, you know? And we both needed something fun and different.”

The drive back was much more relaxed than the ride up. We talked and laughed, listened to music, and pointed out people who were doing weird things in their cars. We stopped in Kingston for dinner, then headed for the ferry.

Ezra walked me to my back door after parking at his house. We stood on the porch, facing each other and holding hands, both suddenly at a loss for words.

“Thank you so much,” I said finally. “You were so amazing to drop everything and take me all that way. I’m not used to having anyone take care of me, but I have to admit I really enjoyed it.”

Ezra’s eyes shone with pleasure. “I’m glad. I like taking care of you. Thank you for
letting
me.”

We shared a silly, secret smile. Something was definitely different between us, and I liked it, whatever it was. I reached up on my toes and drew him into a hug. With his arms wrapped around my waist, he rocked me back and forth, then gave me one big squeeze that lifted me off my feet.

He kissed my smiling lips and released me, but pulled me back for a longer, deeper kiss that made me shiver all over.

“I better get home,” he said several kisses later. We couldn’t seem to stop, and I didn’t want to. “I’m staying in for the night, but things will be back to normal tomorrow.”

“Okay.” I released him and stepped back so I wouldn’t be tempted to kiss him again. “Oh, your sweater.” We’d gotten out of the car on the ferry to watch the sunset, and the wind had been cool, so Ezra loaned me a sweater he kept in the back of his car. I started to pull it off but he stopped me.

“Keep it for now.” He grinned, tugging on the hem, which reached halfway down my thighs. “It looks good on you.”

With one final kiss, he took off toward his house, waving before he disappeared through the back door.

Not quite ready to go inside, I leaned against the porch railing and gazed out at the lake. I pulled Mom’s necklace from under Ezra’s sweater and fingered it absently, glad to have something of hers I could keep with me.

“Well, the prodigal daughter returns.”

Ella’s snarky voice penetrated my happy little bubble, and I sighed. “Nice to see you, too, Ella,” I said wearily, turning to face her.

She climbed the stairs slowly, her long legs seeming a bit wobbly. “So, did you get any closure being back home? Being near
Mom
? Or did you sleep with your yummy boyfriend and that solved all your problems?”

I rolled my eyes. “Sex is
your
answer to everything, not mine.”

Ella scoffed. “You know, I was actually hoping you’d decide to stay home instead of coming back. It’s been so nice around here without someone sucking the fun out of everything.”

“Oh please, I hardly ever see you, how can I suck the fun—”

My words were cut off when she smacked my hand. I stumbled, gripping the railing and looking at her as if she’d lost her mind. I’d still been playing with Mom’s necklace, and now Ella’s eyes narrowed as she watched it sway between my breasts.

“What the hell is your problem?” I snapped, bracing myself to fend off another attack.

“That’s Mom’s necklace.” Her voice was low and seething.

“So? I got one for each of us when I was home,” I told her. “I figured she’d be happy knowing we had them since she said we could split her jewelry when she…when she was gone. If you’d given me a minute instead of always going on the attack, I would have given you yours.”

“But
that
one is mine,” Ella said. I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it, but her eyes seemed to be glistening with tears. “Mom told me I could have it because she knew I always loved it. I said you could have everything else if you wanted, but I wanted that one. Just
that one
, and you took it like you take everything else.”

My head was spinning. Her voice was so full of hurt, and anger practically rolled off her in waves. “H-How was I supposed to know that?” I said, tripping over the words. “I’m not a mind reader, Ella.”

“For the last time, it’s
Gabriella
!” she screamed. Her eyes were wild, and I had a sudden sinking thought that she must be high. Chris must have given her something. She always seemed irate around me, but this was intense, irrational anger.

“Okay, okay.” I held up my hands. Where was Dad? Couldn’t he hear her yelling? This would be a great time for him to decide to start being a parent again. “Gabriella, there’s no possible way I could have known you wanted this necklace. Mom had a ton of jewelry, you know that. Since it means so much to you, of course you can have it.”

I slipped the chain from around my neck and cupped the necklace in my extended palm. She glared at it for a minute before slapping my hand again, sending the necklace flying over the railing and into the sand.

“I don’t want anything from you
or
her.” The way she said ‘her’ cut me like a knife, and I staggered back.

“You don’t mean that,” I whispered, clutching the railing to keep from crumbling on shaky legs. “You’re angry and you’re grieving, and you’re…you’re…why don’t we go inside and I’ll get you a glass of water?”

Ignoring my suggestion, Ella took a step toward me, looking pleased when I flinched. “I
am
angry,” she agreed. “But not because I’m
grieving
. I’m angry because I have to deal with having
you
as a sister. Perfect, beautiful, smart Charlotte with all the friends and the good grades and the boys drooling all over her. The apple of Mom’s eye, her pride and joy.” Her words were light and she spoke in an almost sing-song voice, but her eyes bored into me, and I could feel the intensity of her gaze like a thousand tiny knife wounds.

I shook my head hard. “No. I don’t know why you think that, but Mom loved us both. She didn’t play favourites, and I have no idea where you’d get an idea like that. I don’t know what happened to you, Gabriella, to make you this angry and to make you hate me so much, but this rage is going to consume you alive if you don’t stop.”

Her eyes glassed over, becoming over-bright and out of focus. She blinked hard and shook her head. “Good.” Her voice was a ragged whisper. “I hope it does.”

She spun around and ran down the porch steps, stumbling and catching herself before she went sprawling in the sand. She scurried down the beach, her arms and legs flailing erratically, and then she vanished between two houses.

I hadn’t realized I was breathing hard until the sound of it filled my ears. I dragged in several deep breaths, feeling my lungs expand in my tight chest. I laid a hand over my heart, not surprised to find it galloping.

I didn’t understand my sister’s feelings toward me, and it occurred to me that perhaps even
she
didn’t understand them. Maybe she didn’t even know why she hated me so much; it was just a convenient place to take out her anger. She saw me as her emotional punching bag because unlike everyone else, I wouldn’t leave.

With silent tears streaming down my face, I made my way onto the beach to look for Mom’s necklace in the sand. I wished more than anything that Mom were here to give me guidance and advice. If she could see how this family was falling apart, she’d be devastated. Her family had been everything to her, and it would destroy her to know what we’d become. What Ella had become.

Something sparkly caught my attention, and I pulled the necklace from where it was half-buried in the sand. I put it back around my neck and tucked it under Ezra’s sweatshirt.

Ezra. I wanted so badly to go knock on his door, have him comfort me and tell me everything would be all right. I could get used to the way he took care of me over the last two days, but it would be too easy to become dependant on him, and I had grown accustomed to taking care of myself. Besides, I only had a month left on the island—what would happen if I learned to depend on him completely and then I had to go back home?

No
. As much as I’d give anything to have Ezra’s calm, comforting presence with me right now, I needed to learn to deal with this on my own.

I slipped into the dark house and wasn’t surprised to find Dad sprawled out on the couch watching TV. I wiped the tears from my face and stood behind him for several long minutes, then decided to sit down in the chair next to the couch.

“You’re back,” Dad said, muting the television and giving me a small smile. “Everything okay at home?”

I nodded, too tired to speak.

“Good.” He looked at me for a long time, like he knew something was wrong and he
knew
he should ask, but he turned back to the TV and flipped the sound back on.

I sighed heavily. Would life always be this way? Heated fights between Ella and me followed by short, awkward conversations with Dad?

I sank back in the chair and tried to push everything from my mind. Dad was watching a rerun of
Friends
, so I zoned out on the familiarity of the characters, the dialogue, and the jokes.

Three episodes later, I could barely hold my eyes open. I kissed Dad’s cheek, said good night and headed up to my room. By the time I washed my face and changed into my nightgown, I knew I would have trouble getting to sleep. Even though I’d been up for over seventeen hours, and even though I’d miraculously slept through the night last night, my body was still in insomniac mode.

I crawled into bed anyway, arranging my pillows and trying to get comfortable. My eyelids were heavy, but no matter how long I kept my eyes closed, sleep wouldn’t come. Finally I got up and wandered around my dark room, listening to the gentle waves outside. I grabbed Ezra’s sweater from where I’d left it on the back of my desk chair and brought it to my face, inhaling his scent and feeling my muscles relax.

I got back into bed and pillowed my head on Ezra’s sweater, pretending he was with me. I don’t remember anything after that.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

It wasn’t easy to forget about my fight with Ella. We avoided each other as much as possible over the next few days, and whenever we ran into each other we pretended the other didn’t exist.

I hated that it had come to this, but there was no reasoning with her. I just had to put up with her for another few months and then I’d be off to college and we could be those sisters who rarely speak, and only see each other at family functions…except our only family was Dad, and if things didn’t improve I couldn’t see him hosting Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners.

Ezra finished building the front porch the weekend after our trip to Toronto, then moved on to another job across the island. I missed seeing him every morning, eating lunch with him, and knowing he would likely be around when I got home from volunteering.

We still saw each other every night when we did our designated driving around the island. A few nights before sunset, he pulled me away to give me driving lessons, and I got a little more comfortable behind the wheel each time.

“I guess this is a good place to learn since there’s no traffic, but I’ll probably be a nervous wreck driving anywhere else,” I told him one evening as we cruised down our street. “You know, like when I actually have to drive with other cars on the road and learn to stop at stop lights.”

He had laughed and promised that when I got my permit he’d take me to Kingston and teach me to drive with other cars around.

I was beginning to love my volunteer job at the library. My blog posts were getting more hits than I ever could have imagined, and teens around the island often sought me out to ask for recommendations.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do without you when you leave in the fall,” Shelley told me one day while I shelved books. “If you were sticking around, I’d try to convince you to start a teen reading club. We could really use something like that on the island.”

“I would have loved that,” I said wistfully. “My school started one last year, but I couldn’t join. It would have been nice to have one here.”

“Maybe next summer if you guys come back,” Shelley suggested. “And in the meantime, you can keep the blog up since you can do that from anywhere.”

Next summer. When I thought about it I couldn’t get a clear picture in my mind. A month ago I’d barely been able to imagine getting through
this
summer, let alone what came after. Where would I be a year from now? Would I be on summer vacation from college? Would we return to the island? Would I be working? Would Ezra and I still be together?

I shook my head. It was too much to think about. I’d heard somewhere that you shouldn’t make any big decisions during the first year of grief because your mind doesn’t function normally and you might regret decisions made in haste. I didn’t really have the luxury of waiting a year though—if I wanted to go to college this winter, I’d have to start thinking about applications soon.

I glanced over at the clock above Shelley’s desk and discovered it was almost noon. The library was closing early for some meetings, so I had the afternoon to myself. I grabbed my things, said goodbye to Shelley, and stepped out into the warm sunlight. When I reached the street, I spotted Lilah coming out of the general store, and waved.

“Oh, Charlotte, I’m so glad I ran into you,” she said, hurrying over to me. “I haven’t forgotten about you, I swear, I’ve just been busy fixing up rental properties.” She stopped in front of me and took a second to catch her breath. “I was just going home to make lunch. Can you join me?”

I didn’t even have to think about it—Ezra was working, and nobody would be waiting for me at home. “Sure.”

She insisted on putting my bike in the trunk so she could drive me straight home afterward, and then we headed for her house. She lived in what I’d started to think of as the ‘rich area’ of the island—the big, beautiful homes Dad and I had seen on our first drive around the island, and the ones Ezra and I came to almost every night to pick up Adam.

Lilah ushered me inside, and I tried not to gawk at the high ceilings, endless windows, sparkling marble floors, and expensive-looking furniture. She took me straight back to the kitchen and opened the French doors onto the expansive deck that branched out to a pool on one side and led down to the beach on the other.

“Let in some light and sunshine,” she said with a smile as she crossed the kitchen to the fridge. “We can eat out there if you like.”

“Sounds good.” I was grateful for the suggestion; I wouldn’t have to worry about dropping food on the gleaming hardwood or one of the area rugs. My family was fairly well off, but our home was cozy as opposed to opulent, and I’d never been quite comfortable around the type of wealth Lilah seemed to possess.

Not that she
acted
like one of those rich people who made others uncomfortable. She seemed very down-to-earth, and didn’t flaunt her affluence. Her clothes were stylish and appeared tailor-made, but she wasn’t dripping with diamonds or anything like that. Her shoes were flat and sensible, and her hair professionally streaked and coiffed, but in the times I’d met her I never would have guessed she was one of the rich people that lived in this area.

“You’re just like your mother,” Lilah said, breaking into my thoughts. “Her mind was always going, too. You could almost see the wheels turning.” She smiled warmly as she set down several packages of deli meat. “Is it weird being here? I know you don’t know me very well. Maybe I should have taken you out on neutral ground first.”

“No, no, it’s fine, I’m happy to be here,” I assured her. “My mom talked about you and Ezra’s mom a lot. She referred to her summers here as ‘the good old days’, the way most people refer to high school or college.”

Lilah’s smile turned wistful. “We did have some good times, that’s for sure. Izzy and I were heartbroken when Annie and her family stopped coming for the summer.” Her eyes were far away as she washed a large tomato and began slicing it. “We saw each other a few times after that—she came down here, or Izzy and I would drive up there for a weekend, but it was never the same as our summers together. We didn’t mean to drift apart, it just sort of happened. We all got busy with our lives, met our husbands, Annie and Izzy had kids…”

I nodded. “But you guys never forgot about each other.” I thought of Alexis and Bianca, and wondered if they’d remember me in ten or twenty years. Would they look back on our years together as ‘the good old days’ the way Mom had always thought of her summers on the island?

Sometimes thinking about them left a bitter taste in my mouth, while other times, I was able to smile when I remembered all the things we’d shared. I didn’t exactly miss them; I guess I missed what we used to have. I missed what they had once meant to me—shared giggles and secrets, sleepovers and late nights on the phone, that sense of belonging, fitting. It was still hard to believe that in the end, a lifetime of friendship meant so little to them.

“Never,” Lilah said, drawing me once again from my thoughts. “We kept in touch over the years, we just didn’t get to see each other. I think I’ll regret that for the rest of my life.”

She looked so sad it broke my heart. “She wouldn’t want that,” I told her. “For you to have regrets.”

Lilah shook her head as if she wasn’t quite sure. “Anyway…” She forced a bright smile onto her face, and after a few seconds it reached her eyes, and she relaxed. “I hope subs are okay.” I nodded and she pulled plates, cutlery, and placemats out and handed them to me. “Do you mind setting the table out there? I’ll bring everything out in a minute.”

I stepped out onto the deck and saw that the table was a beautiful frosted glass patio table with wrought iron chairs. I laid everything out, then sat in one of the chairs facing the water, sinking back into the thick cushion.

We need something like this on our porch
, I thought, then sighed when I realized it wasn’t ‘our’ porch, and we’d only be here another month. It was surprising how quickly the island had come to feel like home.

Lilah came out balancing a tray laden with buns, meat, cheese, tomato slices, raw veggies, and dip. I jumped up to help her, and she thanked me, then popped back inside to get a pitcher of iced tea and two glasses.

When we finished lunch, Lilah brought out the photo albums she’d mentioned to me. We sat side-by-side at the table and flipped through the pages. There were shots of the three of them on the beach in bikinis lounging in the sun or splashing in the water; others of them riding bikes and playing on the swings at the park; and a handful of pictures of them at a concert dressed in tight neon clothes with big, teased hair.

My mom was in almost every shot, looking confidently into the lens, smiling brightly, her eyes so young and innocent. My face hurt from smiling, even though my eyes sometimes swam with tears, and I’d have to blink them away so the pictures would come back into focus.

I hardly had any pictures from the last year. I didn’t have any of my friends, but I had a few of Mom and me that she’d insisted I take when she was dressed and didn’t look pale and drawn. She had told me she wanted me to have them when she was gone so I would remember we did have a few good times while she was sick.

That memory morphed into another one, of a picture I’d almost forgotten we had taken. It was a family shot of the four of us just after Mom was diagnosed with the brain tumour, but before she got really sick. We’d been at the house of one of Dad’s colleague’s for his yearly beginning-of-school barbeque, and Mom had convinced us to get together for a family shot. Ella and I had still been on speaking terms then, and we were crushed in between Mom and Dad, the four of us smiling happily into the camera. I had no idea where the picture was, but I’d give anything to have it now. The four of us as a family before we’d fallen apart.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Lilah said gently, resting her hand on my shoulder and making me jump. I realized then that tears were streaming down my face, and I wiped them away hastily.

“You didn’t,” I said. “They’re a mixture of happy and sad tears. It’s nice to see Mom young and happy and having fun. I don’t suppose…” I ran my fingers over the plastic that covered the pictures, touching my mom’s beautiful face.

“I’ll have copies made for you,” Lilah offered. “I’m sure I have more pictures somewhere, I just need to find them. I’ll get them all copied and put them into a book for you.”

“I’d really appreciate it,” I whispered, my voice faltering.

“Of course.” She patted my shoulder and excused herself, saying she needed to use the bathroom, but I think she really just wanted to give me a minute to myself to get it together. I was grateful for that, too.

When she came back, we moved onto lighter subjects, talking about the island, the general store and how much Hank enjoyed running it, and the rental properties they owned.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with the house you’re in right now,” she told me. “I know it’s a little run down, but it’s right on the beach and close to most of the island’s amenities. When renters became fewer and farther between, I decided to hold off on putting money into renos in case I decided to sell it. Then your mom called and said she wanted to rent it, and I was going to have it fixed up but she insisted on paying for it herself.”

“That’s what Dad told us,” I said. “I would have thought it’d be booked most of the year. I love it there.”

She smiled. “I’m glad. So did your mom.” She leaned back in her chair and gazed out at the water. “What are your plans for when you go back home?”

“I’m not exactly sure,” I replied. “I’ll probably have to get a job somewhere until I can start school in January. But I have to decide what I’m going to school for first.”

She chuckled. “Might help. What are your options?”

“I always thought I would become a teacher, like Dad, but now I’m not so sure. I’m thinking about maybe something to do with writing or publishing, but…I just don’t know.”

“What about nursing?” she asked. “Or maybe personal support work? You took care of your mom while she was sick. You seem like a compassionate, empathetic person. The field could use more people like you.”

The thought had occurred to me. I didn’t think I’d want to work in a nursing home, but maybe I could get one-on-one jobs with people who were sick or disabled.

“St. Lawrence College in Kingston has a great PSW program,” she said in a wink-wink nudge-nudge way, like she knew I was getting attached to this area…and maybe she knew about my feelings for Ezra, even though I hadn’t mentioned them. “I keep trying to convince Ezra to get into that. He’d be so good at it, and he’s got the real life experience from taking care of his mom all these years.”

My head snapped in her direction, and the look on her face made my stomach plummet. It was a mixture of guilt and horror, and she cringed like she wished she could take the words back.

“What do you mean?” I asked slowly, my voice surprisingly steady.

“Oh god, Charlotte, I’m sorry. I wasn’t supposed to…Ezra asked me to…oh, he’s going to kill me,” she stammered, her cheeks turning bright red. “I
told
him he should tell you so I wouldn’t have to be in this position.”

“What position? You told him to tell me
what
?” Taking care of his mom all these years?
All these years?
Surely I was missing something.

Lilah took a deep, shaky breath. “I really don’t think I should be the one to tell you. Ezra swore he’d tell you when he was ready, and I never would have broken my promise to him, but it slipped out.”

My patience was beginning to wear thin. “Tell me
what
, Lilah?”

She gnawed on her bottom lip. “Please don’t be angry at him, Charlotte. I love him like a son. Hank and I couldn’t have kids, and when Ezra came along he was the light of my life. I’ve tried to take care of him, and he’s been so good to me…” She was babbling, and I tried my best not to scream at her to just get to the point.

Her tear-filled eyes met mine. “Izzy is…sick. Mentally. She lives in the house with Ezra and he takes care of her. She made him promise not to put her in the hospital, even though we all know that’s where she belongs.”