“The kitchen looks great,” she said. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Thanks for dinner.”
“It was just leftovers.” She shrugged. “Except for the biscuits. You should call your parents tonight. It’s still early there.”
I eyed the clock. “They’re probably eating dinner. I’ll call them in a little bit.”
She quietly cleared her throat. “I wanted to let you know that when I spoke with Bryce, I didn’t tell him about…well, your situation. I just said that my niece had come to stay with me for a few months and left it at that.”
I hadn’t known I’d been concerned about that but felt myself expel a breath of relief.
“Didn’t he ask why?”
“He might have, but I stuck to the subject of whether he’d be willing to tutor you.”
“But you told him about me.”
“Only because he said he needed to know something about you.”
“If I want him to be my tutor, you mean.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “And not that it matters, but he’s the same young man who fixed your bicycle.”
I already knew that, but I was still pondering the prospect of seeing him day after day. “What if I promised to catch up on my own? Without his help?”
“Can you? Because you know I can’t help you. It’s been a long time since I was in school.”
I hesitated. “What should I say if he asks me why I’m here?”
She considered it. “It’s important to remember that none of us is perfect. Everyone makes mistakes. All we can do is try to be the best version of ourselves as we move forward. In this case, if he asks, you can tell the truth, or you can lie. I suppose it comes down to the kind of person you want to see when you look in the mirror.”
I winced, knowing I never should have asked a former nun a question that dealt with morality. With no possible comeback to that, I returned to the obvious. “I don’t want anyone to know. Including him.”
She offered a sad smile. “I know you don’t. But bear in mind that pregnancy is a hard secret to keep, especially in a village like Ocracoke. And once you start showing…”
She didn’t have to finish. I knew what she meant.
“What if I don’t leave the house?”
Even as I said it, I knew how unrealistic that idea was. I rode the ferry with others from Ocracoke to go to church on Sundays; I would have to see a doctor in Morehead City, which meant yet more ferry rides. I’d been in my aunt’s shop. People already knew I was on the island, and no doubt some of them were wondering about the reason. For all I knew, Bryce was doing the same thing. They might not be thinking pregnancy, but they would suspect that I was in some sort of trouble. With my family, with drugs, with the law, with…something. Why else would I have shown up out of the blue in the middle of winter?
“You think I should tell him, don’t you?”
“I think,” she said, drawing out the words, “that he’s going to learn the truth, whether you want him to or not. It’s just a matter of when, and who tells him. I think it would be best if it came from you.”
I stared out the window, unseeing. “He’s going to think I’m a terrible person.”
“I doubt that.”
I swallowed, hating this, hating all of it. My aunt remained silent, allowing me to think. In that way, I had to admit, she was way better than my parents.
“I guess Bryce can be my tutor.”
“I’ll let him know,” she said, her voice quiet. Then, clearing her throat, she asked, “What are you working on?”
“I’m hoping to be done with the first draft of my paper tonight.”
“I’m sure it’ll be great. You’re an intelligent young lady.”
Tell my parents that, I thought. “Thanks.”
“Is there anything you need before I turn in? A glass of milk, maybe? I have an early day tomorrow.”
“I’m okay, thanks.”
“Don’t forget to call your parents.”
“I won’t.”
She turned to leave before coming to a stop again. “Oh, another thing—I was thinking we could decorate the tree tomorrow night after dinner.”
“Okay.”
“Sleep well, Maggie. I love you.”
“Love you, too,” I said. The phrase came automatically, like it did with my friends, and later, when I was talking to my parents and they asked how I was getting along with Linda, I realized it was the first time we’d ever said the words to each other.