Breakwater Bay: A Novel Page 13

  She turned her head to look at him. Water and soap ran in her eyes.

  “Hold still.”

  “You used to wash Nora’s and Lucas’s hair?”

  “Sometimes.” He turned on the water and let it run. She could feel him testing the temperature. Then he began rinsing the suds from her hair.

  “Did you ever wash mine?”

  “No.”

  She thought of what he must have missed when Jennifer took the children so far away from him. And she made a promise to be a good friend to Nora when she came and to try to help her over any rough spots she might be going through. And she’d be a better friend to Alden. A real friend. A friend with—Her thoughts fuzzed over. Damn that pill. A friend. A really good friend.

  Alden turned off the water and squirted conditioner into his palm, fingered it through her hair. Stopped when he reached a tangle and eased the knot away. He was full of surprises, this man. He was a natural at taking care of people.

  Another rinse and Meri was beginning to feel a little dizzy when Alden flapped open a towel and wrapped it around her head. She lifted her head up until she was standing.

  “I did the best I could. It should be presentable.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it. Really.”

  He collected the shampoo and conditioner and the used towel and carried them back to the bathroom, while Meri went to change clothes and look for a comb. She managed to get on clean jeans, all but the button and zipper, and after a few frustrating tries, she decided to just cover it up with a long sweater. Only the sleeves wouldn’t go on over her bandage, so she had to rummage through the closet until she found a sweatshirt with the cuffs cut off.

  When she came back from her bedroom, Alden was throwing the carton of pad thai into the garbage can.

  Meri stood combing her hair and watching him. He realized she was there and stopped. “I assumed you weren’t planning to take that with you.”

  She shook her head, felt the room spin a bit, and sat down in the nearest chair.

  “Maybe you should take another one of those pills.”

  “No. They make me dopey, and I don’t want to be dopey.” She stopped, smiled. “Any dopier than usual. I’ll just take some aspirin for now. Though I could use something to eat.”

  He tied off the plastic garbage bag. “Are you ready then? We’ll call Gran from the car and let her know we’re coming.”

  “Almost. I just need to get some shoes and . . . something else.”

  She went back to her bedroom and shoved her feet into some moccasins since she wasn’t about to wrestle with laces or ask Alden to tie her shoes. She’d imposed on him too much already.

  She found her suitcase on the far side of the bed threw a pair of boots and sneakers on top and shut it. She lugged it to the door and remembered the box, still on the top shelf of her closet.

  Getting it would be tricky, but she wanted to take it with her. She’d have to ask Alden for one more favor. And besides he’d already seen it. There was nothing to be furtive about.

  He was wearing his jacket, and he got the box down without comment, found a shopping bag from a local boutique, and placed it inside without a word. Then he picked up the bag and the suitcase and carried it to the front door where the trash bag was sitting.

  He helped her into her coat as best he could. Meri slung her purse over one shoulder and followed Alden, her luggage, and the trash bag out the door.

  Meri was surprised when they walked out into sunshine. Alden stopped to dump the trash into the outside bin, and Meri got a sudden pang of guilt that came from nowhere for no reason though she thought it might have to do with Heathcliff and taking out the garbage.

  And as unreasonable as it was, she just hoped Peter never found out that instead of driving Meri straight to Gran’s, Alden had brought her here and stayed the night.

  Chapter 12

  I think I’d better call Gran and warn her I’m coming.”

  “Good idea.” Alden waited for a car to pass then pulled out of the parking place. He glanced down and watched Meri rummage for her phone. She swiped her thumb to open it and called.

  He could feel her watching him as she waited for Therese to pick up. He hoped to heaven she wasn’t going to want to talk on the drive to the farm. He wanted to be on his own territory when she started pumping him for the details of the night he found Riley Rochfort on the breakwater, pregnant, sick, and hysterical.

  “I’m fine,” Meri said. “I cut my hand, nothing serious, but I’m taking a couple of days off, thought I’d come out and spend them with you.”

  He could hear a voice at the far end but not words. That was fine. He planned to drop Meri off at Gran’s door, then get the hell out until the women had a chance to talk things out.

  He stopped at a light. Meri hung up. “So . . .” she said and turned toward him.

  “Want to stop for breakfast somewhere or just at a deli.”

  “Just at the deli, if that’s okay with you. I know you never eat breakfast, and I’m anxious to get home.”

  “Fine with me.” He drove to a deli near the highway and double-parked, leaving Meri in the car. He came back a few minutes later with a large paper bag.

  As Meri unloaded the bag, Alden pulled into traffic.

  “I hope you’re going to eat some of this,” she said, taking things out of the bag and handing him one of the coffees.

  He’d bought her a bagel, fruit salad, a yogurt, orange juice, and coffee, hoping it would keep her busy and away from conversation.

  Of course he hoped in vain.

  As soon as she’d eaten half of the bagel and they weren’t even to the bridge, she said, “When were you going to tell me about my mother?”

  “We already discussed this. Your mother is Laura Hollis. Your dad is Dan. And you already gave me a hard time about keeping what I knew from you.” He kept his eyes on the road and cursed the slow-moving traffic.

  “You didn’t tell me you were there in a ringside seat.”

  He ignored her.

  “That you actually pulled Riley from the breakwater and saved her life—and mine.”

  Alden gripped the steering wheel, pretending he hadn’t heard her.

  “Won’t you tell me?”

  “Yes, but not while I’m driving.”

  “Fair enough. But you were there when I was born.”

  “Yep. Saw you two minutes after you came into this world.”

  “I hope not naked.”

  He felt her smile. “No, they had you so swaddled up you looked like a jellybean.” He glanced at her. “But there were plenty of other times . . .”

  “Alden!”

  “What can I say. You were a free spirit. I can’t tell you the number of times you’d escape out of the back door, sans diaper, headed for the dunes. It was very embarrassing.”

  “Not for me . . . evidently.”

  “For me. I was a teenager. Those kinds of things are monumental. More than one time I had to carry you back to the house kicking and squirming. One time you peed on my shirt.”

  “No. You never told me that.”

  “It was good training for fatherhood; by the time Nora came along I was impervious to disgusting baby emissions.”

  She threw a grape at him.

  He batted it away.

  “Alden, does it really not make a difference?”

  Like a light switch clicking from on to off, she’d turned serious.

  He looked over to her and tugged a piece of hair curling at her shoulders. “Not in any way.”

  She fell silent after that. Alden didn’t know if it was because her hand was hurting or if she was lost in her own thoughts. He wasn’t about to ask.

  He knew he’d have to tell her the whole story of his involvement, detail by detail; she was like that. And God knew he’d done the same thing, over and over until it became a kind of story, a fiction separate from himself and reality.

  When Alden looked again, Meri’s eyes were closed. Hopefully she’
d fallen asleep. He was tired; sleeping in a chair just didn’t cut it and he’d been drinking coffee since earlier that morning. Enough to give him the shakes or maybe it was just nerves.

  He laughed at himself. He’d been a kid, he’d made a promise, which he had kept. How could she fault him for that?

  Meri roused when Alden turned into the lane that led to their houses. “I can’t believe I fell asleep, after sleeping all night. Sorry.”

  Alden looked straight ahead. “You needed it.”

  She covered a yawn with her bandaged hand. “You’re not off the hook, you know. I still want you to tell me what happened.”

  “I know. Why don’t you finish reading the diary first.” He glanced at her, but not long enough for her to start asking questions. “Or have you finished?”

  “Not yet. But . . . you knew there was a diary?”

  “Therese told me a few days ago.”

  “And you brought it to me.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Did you read it?”

  “Of course not.”

  She laughed slightly. “Don’t get all indignant. You’re in it.”

  “I figured as much.” And he wasn’t sure why that bothered him so much, except that he didn’t want anything to change between them.

  “You saved my—Riley and you saved me.”

  He flinched. No one had spoken that name for decades.

  “What’s the matter, Alden? Why didn’t you tell me all these years?”

  And here it was. “She made me promise.”

  “You were a boy.”

  “A promise is a promise.”

  They’d come to the farmhouse, and Alden stopped the car at the kitchen door. Therese was already standing in the doorway. She must have been watching for them. Meri turned to say something, but Alden jumped out of the car and began unloading her things.

  Meri got out and hurried to hug Gran. “I’m fine. So don’t look so worried.”

  Alden slipped past them into the house.

  They were just coming inside when Alden returned to the kitchen. “I put your things in the hallway.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Thank you for bringing her home,” Therese said. “Would you like something to eat, Alden? Coffee?”

  “Thanks, but I have to run.”

  He headed for the door. Meri followed him and stopped him before he could get away.

  “You’ll have to talk to me at some point.”

  “I know. But there’s plenty of time. Talk to your Gran first.” And he left her standing in the doorway. Like the coward he was.

  I hope what you learned last weekend isn’t responsible for your accident,” Gran said as she put a cup of chamomile tea on the table at Meri’s good elbow.

  “No. It was the fault of some rusted bolts. Promise.”

  Gran fidgeted. “Did you read the diary?”

  “I’ve started on it. Mom’s handwriting was never the best, and it’s faded over the years. I’ve gotten to where you had to identify Riley at the . . .” Meri couldn’t continue. It sounded like a novel, not her life.

  She changed the subject. “There is so much going on at work; the project is running out of money. We’ve had to move to a four-day workweek, so that’s why I decided to come home and stay with you.”

  “This is where you should be.” Gran straightened up. “You just rest for a while.”

  “Thanks.” Meri’s hand really hurt, but she’d opted for ibuprofen instead of the prescription painkillers because she wanted to read more of her mother’s diary. And then talk to Gran. And then talk to Alden.

  She gave Gran a quick hug and went into the living room. Gran had piled cushions against the arm of the sofa and Meri settled into them, pulled an afghan over her knees, and opened the diary.

  It’s hard to fathom but no one has come to claim that poor child. She’s lying in the morgue like a Jane Doe. But we know who she is. Or was. And Mother has convinced me that we should approach her parents; surely they must be out of their minds with worry, wondering where their daughter is.

  Mother gave her name to the authorities. She didn’t mention Meri. We don’t want to lose that child to bureaucratic red tape. She wants me to return Meri to the family, but I reminded her that we promised Riley to take care of her. Mother is uneasy. She’s afraid that we’ve broken the law. I don’t care. I won’t let harm come to this precious baby.

  Mother calls every day to see if the body has been claimed. And the answer is always the same. I know the family is in town, that the police have contacted them. What are they waiting for?

  Meri was half aware of Gran coming into the archway then leaving again. What Meri really wanted to do was to get through the diary and pick her grandmother’s brain for what really happened in chronological order. If Gran could remember.

  Mother insists we go to meet with the family. Insist they acknowledge Riley and the baby. I argued until I was hoarse, but she’s adamant. I finally agreed, but I insisted we not take Meri with us and not mention her until we were sure they would treat her right.

  Mother made an appointment with them for three days from now. She told them what we wanted, and she said they almost refused to talk to her. I told Mother they must be monsters. But she said they probably thought we were running some kind of scam.

  For being a farmer born and raised, my mother has some uncanny street smarts.

  The next page was blank as if left for the passage of time, and when Meri turned to the next, it was several days later.

  They tried to pay us off!

  They accused us of lying, told us that their daughter had died on a trip to Europe and was buried over there in the family private cemetery. And how dare we attempt to extort money from them with these cruel lies. We were stunned. It was a bald-faced lie, and we all knew it. But the man and his wife didn’t waver. Just acted all starched up and looked down their noses at us like we were vermin that somehow had skittered into their grand mansion.

  They threatened to call the police and, bless her, Mother said as cool as anything, Please do, they’ve been trying to contact you for days. I wanted to applaud.

  They backed down then and Mr. Rochfort did try to buy us off. Which put Mother’s back up. I have to say, I’ve never seen her so fierce, and I was proud to stand beside her. I wasn’t nearly so brave. And then she said something that floored me. She told them we wouldn’t be bothering them again and that Riley and her baby were both buried in our family cemetery if they would like to visit.

  Mrs. R flinched at that, and I had a hard time not bursting into tears, thinking of those lost lives. He said they wanted to hear no more about “this girl,” as he called her, or her bastard child, pretending that they weren’t his own daughter and grandchild. But he didn’t fool anyone in that room. Mrs. Rochfort just stood beside him, letting him talk for her. And I swore then and there they would never get Meri in their clutches. One glance at Mother told me she thought the same.

  The servant showed us out. I was more than ready to go. As soon as we were on the street, I asked Mother why she had lied about Riley being buried. She just patted my arm and said, she will be. She went down to claim the body that afternoon.

  We buried Riley today next to little Rose, just Mother and me and the Reverend Thomas. We only told him part of the story, that she was an unclaimed runaway, and we would be happy to give her our name. So she was buried as Riley Calder. I’m afraid I’ve broken the law but I don’t see any other way to proceed. Or maybe it’s that I don’t want to. I don’t think I could let go of little Merielle under any circumstance. She’s as precious to me, more so, than the premature child that lies next to Riley Rochfort in hallowed ground, a comfort to each other.

  Mother arranged it all. I’m so awed by her strength and willingness to take in this child. But when I told her so, she said, don’t be ridiculous. How could we ever give this baby up?

  Meri, you should grow up knowing how much you are loved. You are truly my daughter and Mother�
��s granddaughter and to hell with anyone who tries to prove differently.

  Meri’s eyes were getting tired and her hand was hurting, and she was half tempted to take one of the prescription pain pills.

  She skimmed over the next few pages in hopes that more pieces would fall into place, but they were all about taking care of the baby. Only one passage brought her out of her descending lethargy and made her forget all about her hand.

  Alden comes every day to see Meri. He’s such a serious boy. He’ll sit by the crib just watching her. Yesterday she smiled at him, but instead of making him smile, it seemed to make him more unhappy. I think something is worrying him, but he won’t say what.

  Today I found him standing over her while she slept, tears falling on the blanket. I asked him what was wrong? At first he only shook his head, then blurted out, “Did I kill her?”

  I was stunned. Fortunately, Mother was in the room and she took charge of the situation. Sat him down and asked him what that nonsense was about. I guess trying to spare him, no one had told him about Riley being killed on the highway. He was so afraid he had killed her by dragging her into the dinghy then leaving her on the beach to come get help.

  It took much persuasion to dissuade him that it wasn’t at all his fault and that he had been brave and managed what few people would or could have done. Then Mother gave him a softened version of what really had happened. It seemed to make him sadder. And I nearly cried myself when he asked in this quiet little voice. “And she left her baby?” Mother soothed him and after a while he returned to the crib and played with Meri until Mother told him it was time for him to go home. He leaned over and kissed Meri, and I heard him whisper. “Don’t worry, Meri. I’ll take care of you. I promise.” Mother and I looked at each other but said nothing. But we both watched out the window until he was home. He seemed less worried, but I’m afraid this whole incident may have scarred him for life.

  Meri closed the diary. No wonder Alden didn’t want to talk about the past. Even reading about it seemed too intimate, and in a way she wished she hadn’t. She had never questioned his place in her life. He’d just always been there.