A Lie for a Lie Read online

  “Probably not,” she said. She ran her hand along the steering wheel. “I love it.”

  “I’ll pick you up tonight,” I said.

  “If Doug doesn’t first,” she said.

  “Let me know. Like you could keep it to yourself.”

  Driving back to the house with the windows down, music up, we both hung our arms out the windows, drumming on the doors, and catching the occasional raindrop. Maybe Dad made a mistake, but I could talk to him about it later. I dropped him at his car and then went inside to change for work, still thinking about his surprise gift. Without my realizing it, he’d done another pretty cool thing; he’d gotten me to drive through the rain without being anxious.

  After the boat accident, he’d worked out of his office in Kingsport. Mom had a long recovery with surgeries on her leg and I had developed severe anxiety, so Grandma Sullivan moved in to help. She took mom to physical therapy and got me to go back to school, but Dad was my rock, and I was attached to him. He was the only one who could talk me down from a nightmare or an anxiety attack, and he had this way of coaxing me to go to school even when I was petrified. When Mom was back on her feet, he went back to work at the Portland office and Grandma went home to Massachusetts, but one thing didn’t change, and that was the special connection we had developed.

  As I drove the half hour to Portland, I thought about how my job at Sullivan and Sullivan would change this summer from cleaning the Portland office to also being office gofer. This would be double the money I made last year. Now that I had a car, I would need to keep gas in it.

  When I arrived at Sullivan and Sullivan, Uncle Steve was on the phone, and Ellie, the paralegal, was typing. They both gave me a wave as I walked by them to the workroom. I hung up my bag and poured myself a cup of coffee. Still terrible. I’d fix that this summer.

  Uncle Steve and Dad were opposites. Dad was kind of a show-off, but in a good way. He loved to do things that were different and edgy. We always went to the newest restaurants and vacationed in different places. He was the one who’d take the risky cases. Uncle Steve was quiet and thoughtful and liked things simple. He had a work schedule that he stuck to, and on weekends he went to his lake house with Aunt Mimi.

  I only remember one time they fought, and it was like they had switched bodies. Uncle Steve came over to the house and screamed and yelled at Dad in the driveway while Mom and I watched from the kitchen. Dad made “calm down” hand motions, but it didn’t help. We only heard a few choice words like idiot, stupid, and liar.

  The memory was interrupted by Uncle Steve, who bounded into the room and gave me a big bear hug.

  “How’s my girl?” he asked, giving me a kiss on top of my head.

  “Good, real good,” I said.

  “Senior year coming up, right?” he asked.

  “Yup,” I said, dumping the pot of stale coffee in the sink.

  “Ellie’s coffee is pretty bad, isn’t it? How about you take over that job this summer.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  Besides making a new pot of coffee, I shredded papers, organized the supply closet, watered the plants, and fed Bubba, the resident koi.

  While I vacuumed Dad’s office, I noticed a planner on his desk and flipped it open. It was the kind that had tasks organized by priority, but when I opened it, I noticed it wasn’t his handwriting; it was Ellie’s beautiful script. It listed conference calls, lunches, and client appointments. In a pocket on the inside cover were receipts mostly for restaurants, but one from Nick’s Sporting Goods caught my eye. The word Skipper was scrawled across the top of it. Without thinking it over, I pocketed it.

  “Do you need something, Kendra?” Ellie called over the noise of the vacuum.

  I startled and flushed, turning off the vacuum and flipping the planner closed.

  “Oh, no, I just wondered what Dad was doing today.”

  “You probably won’t find it in there. He mostly uses his phone for everything. That’s just for office appointments.” She put a stack of papers on his desk and went to the doorway. “He’s lunching with a client, but he’ll be in later.”

  I stared at the planner, wanting to check what he had down for yesterday, but I held off my urge. Getting caught being nosy was embarrassing, and I wanted to get out of there. I pushed the vacuum past Ellie and into the workroom, then signed myself out for the day with the excuse of meeting someone.

  Traffic entering Kingsport was bumper to bumper because of the bridge. It opened for almost every boat. I didn’t mind traffic in Market Square on my first day back. I could take it slow, and from where I was in the line of cars, I watched Will, who was working at the Clam Shack takeout. He was eating some fries and looking adorable while he dipped them in catsup. How can someone be so cute while eating fries? I like fries, too, I thought and quickly jumped to the conclusion that we were meant to be together. I waved, but he didn’t recognize the car. When I got home, I called Jenn to tell her about the Will sighting.

  “Yes, Kendra, it’s definitely a match. The math goes like this: Will plus fries plus Kendra plus fries equals long-term relationship,” she said.

  “I thought so; don’t forget you’re helping me with the party tonight.”

  “I’m on my way now.”

  * * *

  The dinner party was typical Sullivan style. Mom invited the Kanes, the Hubers, the Gooches, and Uncle Steve and Aunt Mimi, too.

  Jenn and I had strung the sunporch and patio with white lights, and we even put some around the pool. It was beautiful, and Mom and Dad looked like they’d walked off the pages of Town & Country.

  We served drinks and passed canapés, and soon everyone was loose and happy. Jenn and I hung out in the garden and stuffed ourselves with olives and appetizers. From here I could see that Dad was alone in the stairwell.

  “Watch my dad,” I said to Jenn. “He’s checking his phone again.”

  “Waiting for a verdict?”

  “No, watch him. He’s texting.”

  “It’s probably his girlfriend,” she said. “He’s smiling.”

  Immediately, I felt defensive. Then disgusted. He slipped the phone into his jacket and then checked his watch. I had to see what he wrote. He definitely looked more like a guy waiting on a girlfriend than a verdict.

  “Jenn, do you think my car is more than a gift?”

  She didn’t look up but said, “It’s possible. Think about it, Kendra.”

  I shook my head, but I knew it was true, and for once we sat in silence. The only sounds were the clinking of glasses and silverware and the summer party chatter.

  After dinner the party continued around the pool. I cleared the table, and Jenn scraped leftovers into the sink.

  “Dad’s jacket is on his chair,” I said quietly, “and I know which pocket his phone is in.”

  Her eyes grew large. “Do it. Do it!”

  I handed her the stack of plates and went to his chair, I put my back to the patio door so no one could tell what I was doing and slipped the phone into my pocket.

  Poking my head back into the kitchen, I motioned for Jenn to meet me upstairs.

  We sat on the floor with the phone between us.

  “Go ahead,” I said, and I slid it toward her.

  She pushed it back. “He’s your dad.”

  “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I said as I pushed the menu button. Sure enough, he’d received a text at 7:54.

  Skipper: where are you?

  John: dinner party

  Skipper: don’t forget the game tomorrow

  John: what time?

  Skipper: 9:00 let’s meet here first

  John: ok love you

  Skipper: love you back xo

  I slid the phone to Jenn.

  She scrunched up her face. “Skipper? He’s dating a sea captain?”

  “Give it to me,” I said, reaching for it.

  “Okay,” she said. “Not the time to joke.” She slid it back to me.

  I didn’t r
ecognize the number, but I remembered the receipt in my pocket. I took it out and handed it to Jenn. “Check this out,” I said.

  “Where’d you get this?” She gasped. “You took this?”

  “Yeah, it was in his office,” I said, scrolling through the other texts. There were more of the same.

  Skipper: don’t forget me at the dealership

  John: on my way

  And even more.

  John: That guy was obnoxious and his wife doesn’t ever stop. Do we have to go?

  Skipper: Yes, but I’ll owe you.

  John: And I won’t forget it

  Another was too much, though, and I set it down like it was poison. “Oh, gross! This is so bad, Jenn, I can’t look at these anymore.”

  John: Happy birthday, babe! Be home soon with your favorites!

  Skipper: Just get here. You’re all I need. Love you babe.

  Sweat beaded on my forehead and I fought back nausea. I put my arm over my eyes and shut Jenn out while she talked about her mom’s affairs. I wanted to forget. Some people did these things, but not my father.

  We returned the phone to Dad’s jacket and finished cleaning the kitchen at warp speed. I wanted out; I couldn’t face Dad. I left a note saying we’d be at the island.

  “The island?” she said, looking over my shoulder.

  I nodded. “Anywhere but here.”

  “Are you going to tell your mom what’s going on?”

  “No. Not yet,” I said, and then I remembered his texts to Skipper, whoever that was. “I don’t know. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe never. Let’s just go.”

  This time I drove, but all I could think of was the image of Dad texting.

  “Kennie, try to forget it. Just think about this car.” She ran her hand over the glove compartment and then opened it. “Cool. It’s amazingly cool.” Touching the energy display, she said, “It’s like ordering fast food.” She poked the touchpad. “Would you like fries with that? Of course you would, and some for Will, too.” The screen flashed from audio to climate to audio, and then cold air blasted from the vents and a CD ejected from its slot.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  She looked at it. “Is this yours?” She pulled out the disc.

  I looked it over. “What is it?”

  “It says Mix.” She loaded it back in and turned it up, clicking through the tracks. It was classic rock and some folk. “This sucks. We’ll call it Previous Owner Mix,” she said.

  I kind of liked it. “Go back to the Zeppelin, Jenn. Yeah, nice,” I said. It reminded me of the parties we’d had on the beach with the Beckhams and Uncle Steve before the accident. Will and I would toast marshmallows with my cousins and have bonfires, and we got to stay up late. I remembered falling asleep against Dad’s chest, wrapped in his sweatshirt, waking only to the sound of his muffled laughter.

  As I pulled into the island parking lot beside Will’s car, Jenn flipped down the visor and checked her makeup, and I hopped out and gave my car a pat on the roof.

  “My car, Jenn. Can you believe it?”

  “Believe it. Remember, Kendra, it’s your Breakout Summer, right? The car is just part of it.” She turned and ran down the path to the causeway.

  She was right; I’d driven tonight without a hitch in my breath or an anxious heart. I’d left all that back at the house with Dad.

  CHAPTER 5

  “Wait up!” I called. I followed down the path and stopped at the beginning of the causeway. It was half tide, and I didn’t know whether it was coming in or going out. Water slapped the rocks, and I tried to remember what the water level was when I walked across with Bo the night before. In or out? High or low?

  “Hey, Jenn, wait!” She knew I was nervous around water, and she’d left without me. But this was a chance to practice my cool new attitude.

  I started down the path after her, then stopped. I didn’t have to be in this situation; I had a car and could leave anytime I wanted. I turned and ran back to the parking lot, arriving just as Sam and Will pulled in.

  I waved, and they did the nonchalant-guy nod as they pulled out two coolers. Kind of funny, I thought. I wanted to go out with Will, and I’d heard Sam wanted to go out with me, and here we all were together.

  “Are you coming or going?” Will said. He set his cooler down in front of me.

  I looked out at the island, then back at him. “I, um, haven’t decided. Is the tide coming in?”

  He picked up one end of the cooler and said, “Not for hours. Come on, get the other side.”

  I smiled, picked up the other handle, and tromped out to the island with Will. Sam took a cooler and went ahead of us.

  “You’re quiet,” Will said. “But then you’re always quiet.”

  What could I say to that?

  “Where’s Jenn?” he asked.

  “Oh, Jenn’s just being Jenn.”

  “You mean crazy?”

  “I don’t even think she knows I’m not with her. Doug’s here.”

  We were close to the island, and I could see Nicole sitting on a log by the fire, watching us as we came up the path to the fire circle. She and Lindsay were laughing, heads together. Nicole spotted us, bounced over and kissed Will, and grabbed the handle from me. “I’ll get that,” she said.

  Alone now, I scanned the group for Jenn and spotted her laughing with Doug. I didn’t bother going over. They were in their own world.

  I found a spot at the fire circle and pulled out my camera. I shot the sky as it settled into a yellow-peach color. Usually the smoke kept the bugs away, but tonight was hot and muggy, and every kind of flying insect was out. I zoomed in on Jenn and Doug as they discussed something intensely, faces close, hands gesturing.

  Will gave me a soda and sat beside me. The fire crackled, and he waved a mosquito away. When I gripped the can too hard, he laughed. I tried to fix the dent but just made it crinkle worse. What was wrong with me? I hadn’t said anything except “thanks.” Did I even say “thanks”? What should I say?

  Nicole yelled something and Will jumped up. I’d done it again. He was there being nice and I’d done nothing. I was pathetic. I lifted the camera to my eye again and clicked away mindlessly. My anxiety evaporated with each shot. I pointed at Lindsay and Dory. They put their arms around each other and posed.

  “Post it!” said Lindsay.

  “Definitely,” I said.

  When I put my camera down, I could see that Will and Nicole were gone, and so were Doug and Jenn. It could only mean one thing: They were on the back side of the island, a signal of an upgrade in Doug and Jenn’s relationship.

  I’d be leaving without Jenn again.

  Bo was here, though, doing something over at the clearing.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Hey back atcha. Kendra, I need you to document this,” Bo said.

  “Document what?”

  “Le Café Rose de Plage.”

  Sam came over with a piece of driftwood. “Le Café what?” he asked. He set it down. “You mean Sam’s Bar and Grill.”

  “I like Le Café Rose de Plage,” I said. Sam looked confused. “The Beach Rose Café.”

  “Not a bar and grill?” Sam shook his head in his disgust.

  “Cafés have more class,” Bo said, heading down to the shoreline. He whipped a mussel shell and hit me squarely on the butt. “Come help us.”

  A tangle of driftwood had washed up, and I carried the biggest piece I could and set it up as a side table next to a seat that Bo had constructed. Soon we had a rhythm going. Sam and Bo brought up heavy stones and set them around, and I dragged wood, buoys, and lobster trap parts to fill in. It was just like when we were kids and Bo and I would play for hours in his clubhouse, setting up a store with the recyclables and sometimes even real items from our cupboards. I sat in a driftwood chair and stretched my legs out.

  “Bo, I think we need cushions or something,” I said, trying to get comfortable.

  He nodded. “And more side tables,” he said, motioning to t
he left and right. He jumped up and looked around. “Where’s Sam?”

  I hadn’t noticed that he’d left. We looked at each other and laughed.

  “That’s so Sam,” he said.

  “Yeah,” I said. It got very quiet. I recrossed my legs. “How was work at the café?”

  “Lindsay cried today. Again.”

  “What happened?”

  “She made a caffeinated beverage for a man with a heart condition, and he chewed her out in front of everyone.”

  “Wow.” My laugh came out like a snort, which made us both crack up.

  “He turned all red, and then he stopped yelling and clutched his chest.”

  “What!”

  “No, I made that part up, but all afternoon I kept telling her she had phone calls from the hospital, or his wife. It was funny as hell.”

  “Nobody cried at Sullivan and Sullivan except me. Almost.” I immediately wanted to take it back.

  Bo looked at me. “What’s going on?”

  I didn’t know why I’d said that. It was the second time in two days that I had blurted something out. “It was crazy busy today, that’s all. The office was insane.”

  Bo nodded sympathetically, but he screwed up his mouth the way he did when he was thinking. I wondered if I should tell him about Dad but decided against it. Maybe it would blow over soon and I wouldn’t have to think about it at all.

  It was dark, but from where we sat we could see that a bunch of people were around the fire circle. “I’d better go find Jenn.” I stood up.

  “Bonne nuit, mon amour. And thanks for your keen sense of design.”

  “Whoa, you sound so, so, um … what’s the word…”

  “Sophisticated?”

  “No, you sound like the Candlestick in Beauty and the Beast,” I said, remembering our Disney days.

  I headed down the back path to see if Jenn was there with Doug. Bo’s French was replaying in my head when I heard the crunch of pebbles behind me. I turned.

  “Will,” I said. I swallowed.

  “I wanted to say good-bye,” he said.

  “Oh.” I motioned to the end of the island. “I have to see if Jenn wants a ride.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  A path went along the west side of the island. Below were striped slabs of rocks that reached out to the sea. At the north end there was one sand dune hidden by thorny rosa rugosa bushes, where couples wandered when they wanted to be alone.