When they’d finished eating, Mr. Danner switched to bourbon and disappeared into the den.
“He’ll be passed out in an hour,” Jake whispered to Molly as they cleared the plates. His mother had gone to take the trash out. “I think we should leave in the morning.”
Molly nodded, unable to object. Being in this sterile, eerie house around Jake’s dysfunctional parents, she understood why he hadn’t wanted to come back here.
“But I’ll take you to the beach, tonight, if you want.” His eyes were desolate, and Molly squeezed his hand. Her heart was overwhelmed with love for him.
“Yes, please.”
Jake was quiet on the drive out to the Narrows. Molly stared out the window, watching the last of the sunset between the trees as it slipped below the horizon, a tangerine line scorching the earth. She felt somber and strange, eager to shake the hours with Jake’s family from her memory. Until that moment, she’d always believed she and Jake shared the experience of coming from broken homes. But her home wasn’t broken, not like Jake’s. Yes, her father had left their family—or had been pushed out by her mother, Molly had never been fully sure which description was most accurate—but her family was still a family. Her mother and Andrew would do anything for her, and vice versa—it was an unconditional love that she carried in her heart and never questioned. Jake, she understood for the first time, had never had that. Molly couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so profoundly sad.
Their rental car didn’t have four-wheel drive, so they parked it on the side of the dirt road and walked hand in hand toward the water.
“I know this is more of a bay than the true ocean,” Jake said, breaking the silence. “But it’s my favorite spot on the coast. Sam, Hale, and I … we spent so much time here.” He sat down on the sand, placed his elbows on his knees.
“It’s beautiful.” Molly slid off her sandals and slumped down beside him. She watched the moonlight float on the bay, squished the sand between her toes. The sound of the gentle waves crashing was like a tonic, and the tension dropped from her body. “I’m so sorry.” She didn’t know how to verbalize what she was apologizing for, only that Jake would understand.
“Don’t be.” Jake glanced at Molly. “It wasn’t all bad, growing up here. It might’ve been, if I hadn’t had the Lanes.” He tipped his head back, gazing up at the inky-blue sky. “They were my family, really. I spent every waking hour there that I could.”
“We should go see them. Mr. and Mrs. Lane, I mean.”
Jake shook his head, his curls ruffling in the warm breeze. “They moved to Charlotte. John—Mr. Lane—is a professor. He started teaching at the university there a few years back.”
“Oh.” Molly shifted closer to Jake, resting her arm against his. “Can I ask … was your mom always like this?”
“Lobotomized, you mean?” Jake shrugged. “More or less. It’s gotten worse, that’s for sure. My dad has worn her down over the years. I used to try to help her … I tried so many times … to tell her to get help, to leave him. But she always refused, so I stopped.”
“Is he abusive?”
“Not physically. That’s probably the reason she pretends nothing’s the matter. He’s just an awful, selfish drunk. He went to jail for a bit when I was a kid.”
“He did?”
Jake nodded. “For a year and change when I was in elementary school. It was his third DUI. I was in the car when they arrested him.”
“Jesus, Jake. Why didn’t you tell me before?”
He sighed, pushing his heel through the sand. “I hate thinking about it. I was six. All I really remember is being in the back seat—the awful, sour smell of his truck—and then flashing red and blue lights in the rearview mirror. I waited in the police station for hours till my mother came and got me.” He glanced up at Molly. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you.”
“It’s okay.” A seam split through her heart as she reached for Jake’s hand, pressing her thumb to his palm. “For the record, I think both your parents are selfish. I couldn’t believe that neither of them asked you a single question about Danner Lane.”
“They don’t care about Danner Lane. They thought I should grow up and be a doctor or a lawyer, something useful like that. They always said our music was a silly way to pass the time.”
Molly felt tears in her throat. She squeezed his hand tighter. “Hey. I’m sorry I made you come here.”