The Final Victim(17)

"So did we."

There's a moment of awkward silence. Then Lisa checks to see if a table is available and, luckily, one is. 8 As they settle in beside the large window facing River Street, Charlotte does her best not to pout about Royce's upcoming trip.

She should be happy that Aimee, Royce's nearly grown daughter, recently welcomed her father back; into her life after a long estrangement.

And she is happy. She knows how tormented he's been, bearing his daughter's and ex-wife's blame for Theo's drowning death at Achoco Island Beach. Royce was in complete agreement with them. He blamed himself, too.

What parent wouldn't?

He was the one who had insisted on taking his son on vacation in Georgia, just the two "men" in the family, while he scouted business locations in Savannah.

Neither Aimee nor Karen wanted to leave New Orleans. It was Royce who wanted it. Royce who convinced little Theo that it would be a good idea.

Royce was the one who was there with his son on the beach that day. The only one. He was in charge. He turned his back… if only for an instant.

Having been in his shoes, Charlotte is glad that her husband had finally made peace with his past. Really. She rejoiced with Royce when his only surviving child reached out at last.

It's just that he visited Aimee for Mardis Gras, for Easter in April, and again for her graduation, much to her father's pride, in Louisiana just last month. She had been working in a salon since high school but after a catastrophic hurricane she had been inspired to go to nursing school. Royce was beaming from the front row at her graduation, presumably alongside his ex-wife.

Is it really necessary for him to fly back down there again just to spend Aimee's twenty-fifth birthday with her?

You're not jealous, are you? Charlotte asks herself, not for the first time.

All right, maybe she is, a little. But mainly, she's worried.

What if something happens to Royce while he's in New Orleans?

What if there's another terrible hurricane? It's the season… Did he even bother to check the Weather Channel?

Or what if he's in an accident?

Life is a series of accidents… some good, some bad…

That's what Josie, the counselor in the bereaved parents group, used to say whenever somebody grew despondent, asking why.

You can't look for reasons. You'll drive yourself crazy. There are no reasons. Things just happen.

There were times when Charlotte found those words oddly comforting. Now she just finds them frightening.

What if something "just happens" to Royce?

Stop it, Charlotte. He’ll be fine. Why do you always have to do this to yourself?

Why, indeed?

Because I know what it is to be blindsided by an unimaginable loss.

Yes, so now what? Do you think that if you constantly dwell on the worst that can happen, it won't?

Perhaps.

Perhaps she's doomed to spend the rest of her life haunted by anxious what-ifs.

No. You have to stop worrying, Charlotte. Stop.

But what if…?

What if these aren't mere worries?

What if they're… premonitions?

What if something really does happen to Royce?

No! Stop!

She has to let him go. This is the first birthday he'll be celebrating with his daughter since she was in her teens. The plane ticket was purchased long before Grandaddy's death.

But I need you, too, Charlotte longs to protest. Especially now. Don't leave me alone in that house with a daughter who isn't speaking to me, an aunt who often doesn't recognize me, and those cousins…

Not to mention the ghosts, which probably now include Grandaddy's.

If she says all that to Royce, he'll undoubtedly feel even more guilty than he already does. He'll quite possibly change his mind about leaving.

But whining to get one's way is a most unattractive characteristic, as Charlotte's mother liked to remind her.

There's nothing to do but hold her breath and let go.

This deserted stretch of beach is in a cove that lies, mercifully, a few miles north of the public beach where both Adam and Theo drowned.

But as Lianna watches Kevin spread out a blanket, it's all she can do to keep her feet firmly rooted in the sand.

Listening to the surf, breathing the warm salt breeze, it's all coming back.

"Thirsty?" Kevin asks, looking up as he pulls something from the backpack he was toting.

About to say No, and Please take me home, Lianna realizes what it is.

A bottle of wine.

She and her friends have snuck enough tastes from their parents' liquor supplies in the past year for Lianna to recognize a fortuitous escape route when she sees one.

"I'll have a sip," she hears herself say, as she sinks onto the blanket beside a smiling Kevin.

"Did you remember to put that leftover potato salad into the bag with your sandwich?" Mimi asks as, Cam in tow, she follows Jed to the tiny kitchen with its cracked linoleum, warped cupboard doors, and scratched laminate countertops.

"No, but I don't want it."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. My stomach's a little queasy tonight."

"Again?"

"Not too bad. But I can't go around eating all that potato salad anyway. I'm getting a gut, see?" Jed pats his stomach.