The first betrayal, hers.
The second was mine, because I kept the truth from her: that I loved him, and he loved me back, and we have some pretty heavy history. She knows that he burned the church down, and I always thought she’d put the rest of the pieces together, but somehow she never has.
Even I can see it’s stupid to keep this secret after so long. I saw the mistake by the time she and I were twenty, but by then, I’d hidden some of the most important parts of my pain from her, and she was struggling enough in art school and with her longing to be an artist, and then I landed the part and my life took off and it was all unequal, and she married Derek and—
The time was never right.
The facts are so simple. I could blurt them out in a single paragraph. I could say, Phoebe, Joel and I fell in love at the start of ninth grade and we had a serious relationship and the baby you think was Victor’s belonged to Joel. I didn’t tell you because I was afraid you’d be mad and you were so lost yourself.
A pain that never really goes away has risen in my gut, where it mixes with other traumas, other times, other things. I feel the blow to the back of my head, hitting the earth, tasting dirt—
My father grabs my hair, roaring—
I stand up, open the patio door to let in the cool air, take in deep lungfuls. I told Phoebe I was going to call my therapist, and it’s important, but I hold the phone in my palm, feeling texts buzz and buzz and buzz again.
From Phoebe:
Suze? Was it weird?
Suze, you okay?
Are you all right?
The air fills my head, my lungs, settles me. On top of the Starfish Queen, which is what we always called the regal middle rock, birds touch down and take flight, bringing food to others, keeping watch for hawks.
I text: I’m okay. Sorry. Got distracted. My nerves are pretty raw.
I bet. You want us to bring Yul Brynner back?
Some small part of me had been maybe hoping to go back down there tonight, but that’s foolish. I live here. I can’t go live at my friend’s house, even if I did when I was a teenager, though it wasn’t her house then. It was Beryl’s.
Sure. Joel had to go get some parts, so I have to stay here.
Jasmine wants to come over anyway. She loves that house as much as we did.
She sounds so friendly. It breaks my heart, because the whole reason I came back is to work out all the things between us, to finally tell her the truth. But instinctively, I know that the fight that ostensibly wounded our trust in each other was nothing compared to this secret, the secret I’ve kept for decades.
What would Beryl do? I wonder.
I’ll put the kettle on.
Chapter Thirteen
Phoebe
Jasmine and I load Yul Brynner into his carrier and drive him up the hill. Maui insists he needs to be included, which makes for a crowded cab. I feel weirdly happy and keep forgetting why, and then I hear Ben’s voice again, asking me out.
On a date.
I’m excited to tell Suze. She knows how long it has been since I’ve had a date or the possibility of a relationship, or even a good roll in the hay. Between caring for Amma in her last two years and the pandemic, I didn’t have many opportunities. Or desire, honestly, though I thought I’d get over missing sex with another person and I haven’t.
Jasmine chatters about the history of Ragdoll cats, about which she has written an entire page in her little notebook. I’m murmuring in response, but honestly, my mind keeps returning to Ben’s warm eyes, his big, solid body—
Oh, don’t do this!
The warning sounds in a nasty voice in my head. Don’t get your hopes up, who do you think you are, you’re too old for this nonsense, men have never really liked you, why do you think this would be any different?
A big blue truck with BLUE RIVER ELECTRIC painted on the side is parked in the circular driveway. I did know that Joel lived in town—I’ve seen him sometimes in the store or at a restaurant, always by himself, wrapped in a weary sort of sadness that comes from life losses. His mother died during the pandemic, which I saw in the Blue Cove Crier, a weekly newspaper that comes out every Wednesday, but I don’t know anything more. I had such a wretched crush on him when we were teenagers, a crush that ended only when he was sent away for burning down the church.
Why did I always yearn for a boy, anyway? After Joel was sent away and I was in high school, I transferred the longing to Billy Mascarenes, a dark-haired charmer who had more girls than he knew what to do with, and pined for him for a full year. Finally, I had an actual relationship in my senior year, with a fellow artist named Andy who’d been in classes with me for years. We connected over an assignment to imitate our favorite artists and both of us chose comic books. We learned about each other’s minds and bodies and hearts, and broke up only when his family moved away after graduation.