“Oh you know, the arthritis is acting up, but I don’t like to complain.” She took hold of my hand and gazed up at me. “Tell me, Jem. How is your dad doing? The last time he was in here, he looked dreadful. And, do you know he walked out with one of my newspapers. Haven’t gotten it back yet.”
The missing newspaper, it gave Tashlyn good reason not to trust me. I shook my head. “Dad’s not good. He’s weak and he’s lost a lot of weight.”
She sighed sadly. “Such a shame. Such a lost life, that man. He could have done so much.”
I’d heard my great aunt lament about my dad’s failed life many times, and it always surprised me. I’d never seen even a glimpse of a man who looked as if he was destined for greatness.
“Would you like a soda, Jem? They’re cold.”
“That’d be great.”
She leaned into her small fridge and pulled out a coke. Her eyes rounded with surprise as she turned back. “I forget how big you are. You almost fill this room.” She took off her glasses and looked at me. “You always were such a picture. When you were born, I swear the nurses in the hospital were smitten.” Her gray brows squeezed together. “Don’t understand why you put such big holes in your ears and those big metal discs, don’t they hurt?”
“They did when I got them, but I don’t really notice them anymore.”
Her brows were still knitted together when she stepped toward me and lifted her slightly gnarled finger to my neck. “What’s that mark? Is that a tattoo?”
“Yeah, I’ve had it for awhile.” I popped open the can and drank. My throat was parched from the long ride to nowhere. “Aunt Alice, I wanted to ask you something about the past, if you don’t mind?”
She held out her hands. “Ask away. No one knows more about this town than me. I’m surrounded by history.” She sat on her couch. I pulled up the footstool and sat across from her. I took another sip. As much as Alice loved to talk about the past, I knew there were stories she preferred not to retell.
“I wanted to know more about what happened the day that dad’s girlfriend, Elizabeth, died.”
She considered my request as she picked up her glasses and wiped them clean on her apron. “Oh, that was a tragedy. She was such a lovely girl, and your dad, well, he was crazy about her. They were only teenagers, but it seemed definite that they would end up together after high school. She would have been the making of him. Instead, her death turned out to be the ruin of him. He never recuperated.”
“Didn’t help that the entire town had branded him a murderer.”
She reached across and patted the side of my face. “You have your dad’s eyes, you know? But that’s where the similarity ends. Yes, the town was unfair to your dad, but he used it as an excuse to do whatever he liked. He could have changed their opinion of him. Instead, he chose to maintain his reputation as a troublemaker.” She stood up. “Follow me and you can find anything you need to know about Elizabeth’s death.”
I got up and we walked down the narrow hallway leading to her massive newspaper collection.
I hadn’t been down the hallway in a long time, and I realized I had to lower my head to avoid the overhead lights. “Do you remember the date?”
“Well, I’ve tried not to think about that terrible day much, but I know your dad and Elizabeth were seventeen. It was the summer before their senior year.” She opened the door to the backroom. The smell of old newspaper almost overpowered the ever-present smell of coconut oil, my great aunt’s elixir of life. “Elizabeth was at the head of the class and so pretty,” Alice continued as she walked to a shelf at the far end of the room. “She rode the Independence Day parade float just before her death. I think July 6th, 1982 is the date we’re looking for.” She lifted her glasses and pushed her face closer to the boxes. Her eyes followed the boxes up. “At the top, naturally. Grab the ladder, Jem. Of course you could almost stand on your tip toes and reach it. So tall. That’s nice to be so tall.”
I picked up the stepladder and positioned it beneath the stack. I climbed up and grabbed the top box. A cloud of dust followed it off the shelf.
“See, too high up for me to clean. Bring the box to the table, Jem.”
I carried it to the table.
“Of course, if your dad hadn’t run off after Elizabeth got hurt, people wouldn’t have been so quick to blame him. He was scared. But anyone who saw his face at Elizabeth’s funeral could tell that he loved her.”
I pulled off the lid. “He ran? He never mentioned that.”
“Not his proudest moment, I’m sure.” She fished into the box and pulled out a paper. “Front page, of course.” She handed it to me. “I’ll let you read it.” She placed her hand on my arm. “Jem, your dad did one thing right and that was he raised you two boys. Don’t sell yourself short. Or your brother. I know Dane has a little harder time of it, but you both turned out all right and that was your dad’s doing. Just make sure you take a different path than him, and you’ll do fine. And follow your heart. It always knows best.”
I leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Thanks, Aunt Alice. Words to live by.” She walked out, taking her tropical sweet fragrance with her. I sat on the couch and stared down at the yellowed paper. Elizabeth Nelson’s picture was on the front page. I’d seen her picture a few times. She was definitely pretty, the kind of girl you’d want to hang out with on a lazy summer afternoon. The article was relatively short, but one detail surprised the hell out of me. My dad never talked about that day, but he’d never mentioned that Rebecca Gregor, Landon’s sister and Everly’s mom, was with Elizabeth the day she died. Rebecca had run for help, it said, when Elizabeth had fallen and hit her head. She had been playing on the rocks near the river with her close friend, Alcott Wolfe, when she slipped and knocked herself out. According to Rebecca, Alcott got scared and ran off. By the time Rebecca had returned with help, Elizabeth had disappeared. Her body was found half a mile downstream. The coroner claimed that drowning was the cause of death and not the contusion on her head. Police theorized that she’d gotten up and, disoriented from the bump on her head, she’d fallen into the river.
I sat back and stared down at her photo. The police theory seemed sort of a stretch. No wonder the town had decided that Dad had had something to do with her death. He was a fucking coward for running off. I read the article once more. Something seemed to be missing from the story. It was no wonder my dad had always avoided the subject. He’d run off and left the girl he’d supposedly loved to die.
It seemed strange that this was the first time I’d heard of Rebecca Gregor’s involvement, especially since she was a witness. I placed the paper back in the right place and put the box back up on top. I stepped off the ladder and walked out of the room, wondering how the hell I was ever going to live on the outside of my dad’s shadow.
Chapter 25
Tashlyn
I looked out across the sawmill yard to the river. Everyone was clocking out, but Jem remained out there, near the water, looking lonely and broken. Or maybe I was just hoping his feelings matched my own. I’d tromped around the office all day feeling dreary as if someone had tied weights to my feet.
I blamed myself. I’d let Everly’s inherent mistrust of the Wolfe’s infect my opinion of Jem. He’d done nothing to deserve it. The opposite, in fact. Many times during the work day, I’d let my gaze drift out the window to watch him work. Everything about him was heartbreak to me. He’d come to my rescue more than once, and all the while, he was stealing my heart. I’d cried myself to sleep the night before and chided myself for so easily dismissing him at the diner. Even Everly seemed to regret the whole thing.