Caroline didn’t have an answer.
“Anyway, what do you think of Jeff and me? Don’t we make an awesome couple? His eyes are, like, the deepest brown. Oh, and wait until you hear the best part.” She clutched Caroline’s arm. “He held my hand. I swear, he did it for, like, a couple minutes. And you know what comes next, don’t you? He’s going to kiss me.”
“Do you want him to kiss you?” Caroline pulled a face.
“Caroline! Of course I do.”
“But you don’t even know him.”
“I know he’s cute.” Megan picked up Caroline’s pillow and turned it over. “Have you ever practiced kissing?”
“No.” She yanked her pillow from Megan’s hands. “And you’re not going to practice on my pillow. I sleep on that. Gross.”
Megan rolled her eyes. “Don’t be such a baby.”
“I’m not being a baby.” She hugged the pillow close to her chest.
They sat quietly, the silence becoming uncomfortable. Caroline tried to think of something they could talk about, something other than boys or Sara. What did they do other summers when things weren’t strange and difficult?
“Want to play cards?” Caroline asked. They used to play cards, eat popcorn, and watch old movies with Gram. Maybe by doing the things they used to do, they’d stop talking about boys and kissing, she’d get her old friend back, and things would return to semi-normal.
“I don’t think so. Do you want me to paint your nails? I brought some polish with me.” Megan pulled a small bottle of pink nail polish from her shorts pocket.
Caroline shook her head.
“Do you have any magazines? Teen Vogue?” Megan asked.
She shook her head.
They were quiet again until Megan stood and said, “Well, I guess I’ll get going.” Before she crawled out the window, she turned to look at Caroline. “I’m meeting Jeff at the Pavilion tomorrow. You can hang out with us if you want to. Or not. It’s totally up to you.”
She found herself saying, “Yeah, okay.” Or rather, whatever.
* * *
Once Megan had gone, Caroline no longer heard voices in the kitchen. She found her father sitting alone at the table. The guitar was in his lap. He was smoking another cigarette. His brown wavy hair looked messy, as though he had raked it with his fingers more than once.
“Where’s Gram?” she asked.
“She went to lie down.” He turned a guitar pick over in his hand.
She opened the refrigerator and stared at its contents, not finding much of anything other than old sandwiches. Normally, the shelves would’ve been stocked with leftovers from dinner: meatloaf, baked beans, potato salad, rice pudding.
It was the first time she became aware that maybe Gram had been affected by the events at the lake, more so than she had let on. Otherwise, Gram wouldn’t have let their supplies run so low. Caroline decided she would offer to go to the Country Store for Gram tomorrow. It was a perfect excuse to search more newspapers for a headline she might’ve missed.
She grabbed an apple and sat across from her father. She eyed him up. He seemed faraway, but if she was going to talk with him, it was now or never while she had him alone.
“Hey, Dad.” She bit into the crisp apple and said while she chewed, “I didn’t know you were friends with Billy.” She meant to shock him, or at least surprise him with the little knowledge she had about the mysterious boy from his past.
But his face remained neutral. He didn’t answer for a long time. Instead he continued turning over the pick in his fingers. Then he took a drag from his cigarette before snuffing it out in the ashtray.
For a second Caroline didn’t think he had heard her. She was about to repeat the question when he looked up. His face took on an expression she had never seen before.
“Who said we were friends?” he asked in a voice she didn’t recognize.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Jo pulled a pack of cigarettes from her pocket. “Do you want one?” she asked Patricia, and fished around for a lighter.
“No, thank you. I don’t smoke.” Patricia’s blond hair fell loose around her face in waves. She clutched a cloth doll in her hands.
Jo imagined the doll had belonged to Sara, the same doll that had been on the rocking chair in front of the tea set. For a moment her thoughts drifted to Caroline and how it would feel if her own daughter was missing. Would Jo be clutching Caroline’s softball mitt, struggling to hold it together like Sara’s mother? But Jo didn’t think she could. She’d fall apart if it was her daughter, if it was either one of her kids.
She lit the cigarette, letting the nicotine soothe her. A melodic rhythm poured from the jukebox into the night air, although Jo couldn’t name the tune. Kevin would know. All he had to do was hear the first few notes and he could name the song and the band that played it. He had a gift.
She took a long drag and exhaled. “I remember you,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper. She was embarrassed she hadn’t known who Patricia was this entire time. In some ways she felt as self-absorbed as she had been as a teenager. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize who you were earlier.”
“Oh, that’s okay.” Patricia wiped her eye with the doll. “I was what, ten years old the last time you saw me?”
“I guess. Heil remembers you.”
“Heil’s an asshole,” Patricia said.
Jo looked at her, somewhat surprised, and then smiled. “He is an asshole. But seriously, I should’ve known who you were. I mean it.” She hesitated. What did she mean? She was sorry she didn’t recognize Patricia as one of them? Why did it make a difference whether she was or wasn’t a lake regular? A little girl had drowned. That should be enough for all them to care and do everything possible to find her. But somehow it wasn’t. Somehow, Patricia knowing Billy, being here at the lake all those summers, it made a difference to Jo. She felt connected to Patricia in ways she couldn’t explain, not logically, but she felt she owed her something.
“You’re not the only one, you know,” Patricia said. “Other than Heil, I’m not sure anyone else remembers I used to come here with my parents.”
It was true. Gram hadn’t known who Patricia was, and she had been friends with both Bob and Jean. She was certain Kevin didn’t know. If anyone else had been privy to Patricia’s connection to the lake, the news would’ve spread through the colony and the search may have gone differently. Or maybe not, based on her previous conversation with Heil.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”Jo asked.
Patricia shrugged. “I was going to tell everyone, but I never got the chance. And then, it no longer seemed important,” she said.
Jo touched Patricia’s arm in a comforting way. “I’m sorry.”
“It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters now.” She wiped her eye with the doll again. “I got as far as the beach on our first day here and that was it. I never even got to introduce Sara to anyone, not even the Hawkes.”
Jo waited for Patricia to continue, but she didn’t. She disappeared somewhere deep inside herself, staring off at some point in the distance. Jo flicked the cigarette butt to the ground. She watched the ember fade and burn out. Whatever Patricia hoped to gain by returning to the lake, it had ended in a nightmare. But it still didn’t explain her comment about Billy.
“Do you remember when I stopped by your cabin?” Jo spoke in a soft, soothing way, hoping to lure Patricia back into the conversation. “You mentioned Billy.”
Patricia turned to look at her. In the dark, Jo could scarcely make out her eyes.
“Yes,” Patricia said. “Billy.” Her voice lifted. “How is he? And Dee Dee?”