George returns, but we don’t watch the end of the movie. I rouse Bess and Penny and the three of us hug them and say It’s all such a shock,
it’s terrible,
we can’t believe he’s really gone,
we’re so sorry your trip ended this way,
we’ve loved having you,
come back to Beechwood anytime—
though we know that they will never be back.
* * *
—
AS PENNY, BESS, and I walk through the night to Clairmont, I tell my sisters, in a whisper, about the missing board. Their eyes widen.
Penny says she didn’t move it.
Bess says she didn’t move it.
“It was stupid as hell to move it. Do you understand?” I say. “If someone finds it, hidden, that will look suspicious. It has literally been sitting in the same spot since the Lemon Hunt. If the police find it in the basement or under your bed or something, it will be so, so bad.”
“Duh,” says Penny. “That is why I didn’t touch it.”
We both look at Bess. She shakes her head earnestly. “I don’t have it,” she says.
“Did you used to have it?” I ask. “Did you do something with it?”
“I told you, no. I haven’t even been on the dock.”
There is nothing for us to do but go home and go to bed.
I am scared to see Rosemary again, after the way I left her, and after all that my sisters and I have done last night and today. But she does not visit me, and the Halcion knocks me hard into the dark.
65.
WORKERS COME AND rip apart the dock. They stack the rough, worn boards in a pile on the sand and eventually cart them away.
They rebuild in the same shape, a little wider, with bright new wood. They do repairs here and there on the walkways, fences, and steps. They fill the island with the sounds of their tools.
It takes four days.
My mother and Luda clean Pevensie from top to bottom. They ship all Tomkin’s and Yardley’s things to their mother’s address and Uncle Dean’s things to his place.
Harris says only one thing to me about Dean’s departure: “He and I are no longer seeing eye to eye.”
Privately, Tipper says that the rupture “was unavoidable and your father is completely in the right.”
Gerrard has been upset over Pfeff’s death. He is a sensitive person, and the second drowning in two years has made him want a job on the mainland. He takes his leave of us kindly, and will not be back.
I haven’t seen Rosemary. I cannot bear that I hurt her. I left her alone when she most wanted me. Abandoning her has probably undone everything I did all summer to try to make her feel loved and secure.
I don’t know how to mend it. I am both afraid to see her—and longing to.
The day after the dock is finished, Mr. and Mrs. Larry Pfefferman come to the island. Tipper offered to pack up Pfeff’s things and ship them home, but the search for the body is ongoing. Pfeff’s parents want to come out and talk to the police. My mother felt she should host them.
Harris picks up the Pfeffermans at Woods Hole. The rest of our family waits for them on the new dock. We introduce ourselves and say how sorry we are.
Mr. Pfefferman is fat in a wide, square way, as if his body has grown into the shape of a boxy business suit. He has his son’s thick hair and wears wire-rimmed glasses. His wife is Italian-born. She speaks with an accent and wears a slim-fitting black summer dress and heels. Her hair is that monochromatic brown that comes from dye.
Bess’s lips quiver when she says hello.
Penny looks at her feet.
I look the Pfeffermans in the eye and think, He was hurting my sister. Then I course-correct: He was drunk in the early morning. He swam too far from the boat. We weren’t looking and he went under. We searched and searched.
Tipper puts the Pfeffermans in Pevensie. Goose is still a mess after the hurricane of the boys.
Bess, Penny, and I agree that we will never be alone with Pfeff’s parents. We will speak to them as little as possible. It is Luda’s night off, so we offer to help Tipper with supper. She is making mini-quiches for nibbles, something she only does for best company in Boston. Bess, a much better cook than Penny or I, rolls and cuts out the quiche crusts and lifts each one into a baking tin. There will be lamb chops, potatoes, and a lettuce-and-mint salad. A blackberry slump with soft-whipped cream for dessert.
The supper is quiet. Harris talks about his publishing company. Tipper and Mrs. Pfefferman discuss cooking and cardiovascular exercise, and Tipper says “what a pleasure it was” getting to know Pfeff. “He was such a polite boy.”