“I thought the same thing,” Garrett said. “Except Piper heard this from her mom, Rosie.”
“So Rosie’s lying.”
“It’s a matter of public record,” Garrett said. “It’s registered at the town clerk’s office. David told Piper this. Anyone can go check.”
“So tomorrow,” Winnie said. “We’ll check.”
“I don’t need to check,” Garrett said. “I know it’s true.”
“I’m going to check,” Winnie said, “in the morning.” She paused. “And Dad didn’t know?”
“That’s right. Mom told David that Dad didn’t know.”
“He died without knowing,” Winnie said.
Garrett stood up. “I can’t believe her! I can’t believe she’d keep a secret like that from her own family! I want to wake her up right now and make her admit it to our faces.”
Winnie thought about this idea. She wasn’t ready for another big, messy middle-of-the night scene. Besides, Winnie didn’t want to hear her mother admit it. It would be too heartbreaking for everybody. Winnie felt betrayed-of course she felt be-trayed!-but she also felt deeply ashamed for her mother. Who kept a huge secret like that? Lots of people, probably, all over the world, every day. But Winnie didn’t like lumping her mother into a category with other secret-keepers and cover-uppers: the Bill Clintons, the Richard Nixons. It made her mother seem too fallible, too human.
“How long were they married for?” she asked.
“Two weeks.”
“Only two weeks?” Winnie tried to decide if this made things any better. She decided not; getting married was an unalterable fact, like having a baby. You were either married or you weren’t; duration didn’t matter. Beth had been married before. “Un-fucking-believable.” Garrett probably thought she was cursing to show off, but truly, that was the only phrase that came to mind. Beth had been married before, to David Ronan. For two weeks. She never told Winnie and Garrett, and, even worse, she never told Arch. This was like a brick wall Winnie had to scale without a rope; she had no idea where to find a fingerhold of understanding. Her own mother. Among other emotions was a raw hurt, because Winnie and Beth were friends. They were the female half of the family, comrades, confidantes, or so Winnie thought. Aside from Marcus, Winnie considered Beth to be her closest friend. And not only a friend, of course, but her mother. The first and last person she went to with everything. Her safe place, her absolute, final refuge. And yet what Garrett just told her changed all this. Beth was now someone Winnie barely knew, a woman capable of hiding a huge secret.
Winnie stared at Garrett’s shadowy figure at the foot of the bed. He was waiting patiently while she processed the news. Reality settled over Winnie: there was no one left in her family that she could trust.
“What should we do?” she asked.
“I have an idea,” he said.
Garrett’s plan of action was drastic and mean, the kind of get-even scheme that only the mind of a teenager could conjure. But Winnie immediately recognized that in this instance he was right. The twins would exercise the only power they had left, and they would do it secretly, the following night. The plan was so awful and so irrevocable that Winnie insisted they be positive of their mother’s guilt before going through with it. She would check in town the next day.
The morning was as bright and beautiful as any morning on Nantucket had been so far that summer, and yet for Winnie it was the start of a day of subterfuge, and that cast a gloomy pall on her spirit. She climbed out of bed as soon as she heard the water for Marcus’s shower, pulled on her jean shorts, which she wore almost as frequently as her poor sweatshirt, and padded downstairs. She stopped and stared at herself in the hallway mirror. Her face was tan, her hair practically white. Although she and Garrett were twins, it was much commented that Garrett resembled Arch, and Winnie was a dead-ringer for Beth. This had always made Winnie pleased and proud to hear. Her mother was no super model but she had a kind of clean beauty that made people think of good diet and good breeding and lots of time spent in the fresh air. Now, Winnie was appalled at the features she shared with her mother. Would she do something awful like Beth had done?
No.
Winnie sat out on the deck with a bowl of Cheerios, gazing at the water. This news about Beth had at least restored Winnie’s appetite; she hadn’t voluntarily fixed herself breakfast in four months. Winnie heard noises in the kitchen and dread clutched her heart. She could not face Beth this morning, and maybe not ever again. She wished fervently that she and Garrett were leaving for college in the fall. But unfortunately there was still an entire year of living at home with their mother before their escape into adulthood.
Winnie listened to the rustlings in the kitchen until she was certain it was Marcus, and then she relaxed somewhat. When she finished her cereal, she propped her legs on a second chair and lay back, basking in the early morning sun. It was far too warm for the sweatshirt, but she wouldn’t take it off, especially not now. Not unless she replaced it with a T-shirt that said MY MOTHER IS A LIAR.
Marcus joined her at the table with his breakfast: two peanut butter and beach plum jam sandwiches on raisin bread, a hard-boiled egg, a nectarine, and a giant glass of Gatorade.
“Hi,” he said. “You’re up early. Did you eat?”
Winnie didn’t answer except to move her hand indicating, Hi, so what, of course.
Marcus took a huge bite out of one of his sandwiches.
“I’m going into town this morning,” Winnie said.
Marcus swallowed and took a long pull of his Gatorade. “Really? Why?”
One of the things that made today so painful was that Winnie and Garrett had agreed to keep this a secret, at least until their plan was executed. This meant no telling Marcus, even though Marcus would understand. He was angry at his own mother; he practically hated her.
“I have to buy some books for school,” she said.
Marcus nodded, unimpressed. The best kind of lie, Winnie realized, was a boring one.
The worst kind of lie was the kind that Winnie uncovered at the town clerk’s office less than an hour later. Winnie was nervous as she entered the Town Building-it was air-conditioned and hushed with polished concrete floors. It had long corridors like a high school. The building felt different from the rest of Nan-tucket-this was an office building, where people worked. Winnie stood for a minute outside of the town clerk’s office. A brunette woman wearing a melon-colored dress and stockings and heels sat typing at a desk. When she looked up, Winnie walked away, the soles of her running shoes squeaking against the polished floor. Now she felt like an idiot, but she didn’t know what to say. What if the woman asked her for ID? She didn’t even have a driver’s license! She should have insisted Garrett come with her; he was better at dealing with adults than she was, but Garrett hadn’t wanted to come. He was certain of their mother’s guilt; he didn’t need proof.
Winnie decided to walk around for a few minutes. She climbed the stairs and the first office she came to was the DMV. How ironic it would be if she took her driving test now and returned home with her license. Even that would be enough to hurt her mother’s feelings. Beth was excited about waiting in the awful DMV room while Winnie took her test. She wanted to be the first passenger that Winnie drove legally on her own. Winnie hesitated; maybe she should take the test. That would be enough punishment for Beth, and then she and Garrett could forget about their horrible plan for tonight. Winnie closed her eyes and tried to picture herself parallel parking, but when she did, she saw herself hitting the granite curb and popping a tire. Winnie moved on: past the court rooms, past the passport office, all the way to the stairs at the opposite end of the building. Then, without options other than leaving or finding out the truth, she marched back to the town clerk’s office. The woman in the melon-colored dress looked up and smiled in such a friendly way that Winnie decided it was okay to speak.