“I’m going to figure myself out, Brody. For you, and for Finn.” She took a deep breath. “And for myself.”
Brody slung an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. Dropping a kiss on top of her head, he said, “Welcome back, Annie. I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed me too. And you, of course.” She smiled softly as Brody leaned down to kiss her, so thankful he was willing to give them another chance.
50
A week later, on Sunday, Annie took Finn to Poipu Beach, just the two of them. Brody was playing golf with some of the guys he’d met on the island, and Annie wanted to spend more time with Finn. He talked the whole way down in the car, something he’d rarely done in the past when they were by themselves. Hot Chocolate sat next to him, but Annie had noticed her son hadn’t been clutching him tight the way he used to, ever since he started going to preschool with Leila. He seemed completely unaffected by the night with Serena, and if that made Annie wonder, she pushed the thought aside. She was happy Finn wasn’t as traumatized as he’d been with Lindsay.
They stopped at Da Crack, a Mexican takeout spot in Koloa, for burrito bowls to take to the beach. Once they got to Poipu, Annie staked out an area for them by the big palm tree at the kiddie area. They were far enough away not to disturb the honu sunning itself in the sand, but close enough that they could watch the giant turtle if it started moving.
Annie stretched out on her stomach facing the ocean and dug her toes into the white sand. It was a glorious Kauai day, the sun shining and the water sparkling. The warm sun beating down felt good. Finn was in the shallow water splashing around with a group of kids, and her heart warmed every time she heard his happy laugh. She closed her eyes briefly, knowing there were at least a dozen parents around watching all the kids. Besides, she could hear Finn’s chatter over the crash of the waves.
“Mommy, Mommy. Look!”
Finn’s cries had her sitting up, as her heart jumped into her throat. But then she saw he was pointing to another turtle, who was lumbering its way up the sand toward the one sunning itself. The two turtles started playing, batting their flippers at each other and lifting their heads off the sand. A crowd gathered around, staying well back from the markers warning people to keep their distance.
Finn sat down in Annie’s lap and pointed and laughed at the turtles. She put her arms around him, loving the feel of him against her. They watched the turtles together until Finn turned to her.
“I’m hungry.” He got off her lap and tried to unzip the soft-sided cooler.
“Let’s eat, then.” She helped him with the zipper and pulled out their burrito bowls. She handed him the chicken one, and he dug in. They ate in silence, watching the snorkelers out beyond the kiddie section, the water sparkling and glittering in the sun. They glanced at the turtles from time to time to see if they’d moved. When they were full, Annie cleaned up, putting the leftovers back in the cooler. She handed Finn his water bottle and he took a big gulp.
“Mommy.” He didn’t look at her when he said this.
“Yes?” Annie paused, her hand still on the zipper of the cooler.
“I have to tell you something.” Finn put his water bottle down and finally turned to look at her, his little face twisted up in concern.
“You can tell me anything.” Annie finished zipping the cooler and tried to appear nonchalant, when inside, her heart was hammering wildly.
Finn didn’t speak. He stared at her, his lower lip sticking out.
“What is it, Finn? I’m here. You can tell me anything.”
“Anything?” His eyes found hers.
“Yes.” She reached out and pulled him against her, so that his side touched hers. “Okay?”
“I won’t get in trouble?”
“No. You won’t.” She kissed him on the top of his head. “You’re my Finnie boy.”
There was a pause, and then he said, “It’s about Lindsay.”
Annie’s heart pounded so loud she was surprised Finn couldn’t hear. “It’s okay. Tell me about Lindsay.”
“I . . . She . . .” Finn’s face went blank, and Annie tightened her arms around him.
“It’s okay, really. Mommy’s here.”
“Lindsay fell.” He turned his face away, no longer looking at her. “I tried to help her up . . . after that woman was so mean. I pulled as hard as I could . . .” He stared out at the ocean as Annie searched his face.
“It’s okay,” she said softly. “Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay.”
“I didn’t mean to. I . . .” He leaned sideways until his head rested against Annie’s arm. “I let go. I thought she was playing. I laughed. It was slippery—” He broke off.
Annie turned him so that she could console him, hold him close. But when she caught sight of his eyes, the bottom dropped out of her stomach. He looked so . . . detached. His face was blank. Exactly the way the therapist in New York had told them Finn was at every session. Annie stared at him, barely breathing, until he spoke again.
“She fell back. Hard.” He looked out over the ocean again. “Her head . . . It hit a rock.”
Annie closed her eyes and pulled Finn tight against her. All around them, kids played happily, splashing in the water as their parents watched. Tourists and locals alike enjoyed the warm day, taking advantage of the rays and cooling off in the ocean. Yet here on their blanket, Annie and Finn were wrapped in a cocoon, just the two of them, as she tried to make sense of his words. The doubt that she’d pushed away when Serena died started to creep its way back in. She squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to give it credence.
“It was my fault, right?” Finn asked.
“Oh . . .” Annie may have had doubts, but she was not going to let Finn think he was responsible. “No, it’s not.” Her voice was firm. “It was an accident, okay? You didn’t cause Lindsay’s death.”
“But . . . if I hadn’t let go?” He turned to face her. “Am I a bad boy?”
“No, Finn. No. It was an accident.” Annie would not doubt him.
“Bad boys get punished.” He gazed at her steadily. “They get punished like Hot Chocolate.”
“What?” A chill went up Annie’s spine. “What did Hot Chocolate do?”
“He was a bad boy, so I punished him.” Finn’s eyes were clear, his little face innocent. “Over there by the rocks.” He pointed to one of the rock walls that kept the waves from the shallow kiddie area.
“What do you mean?” Annie searched his face as prickles broke out on the back of her neck.
“Then I buried him, just like they do for dead people.” Finn’s voice was matter-of-fact, as if relaying what he’d just eaten. “Like for Lindsay.”
Annie sucked in a breath. They hadn’t taken Finn to Lindsay’s wake or funeral. He’d stayed with Brody’s sister’s family. “How do you know what happens to dead people?”
“My cousins told me.”
Ah. Brody’s sister’s kids.
“I miss Lindsay. I loved her.” Finn’s voice was so soft it got carried away in the breeze, but Annie heard him.