Family of Liars(49)
* * *
—
THREE DAYS AFTER Yardley’s departure, I have had enough. It is afternoon and I am cooped up in this hot room, sweltering and festering while Lor Pfefferman lives free and easy. There is a clambake tonight, down on the beach. There will be corn on the cob and potatoes cooked in the fire. Clams and lobsters, melted butter. Strawberry shortcake up at the house afterward.
This is my home. Pfeff doesn’t get to eat my strawberry shortcake without facing up to what he’s done.
I go downstairs, my hands shaking. I will not hide any longer. I’ll talk to him, and then I will hold my head high and take my place in the world of this island.
52.
THE KITCHEN IS empty except for Luda, who is wiping down the inside of the fridge.
No one is in the living room.
Outside, Bess shucks corn on the steps. I ignore her as I go past.
From the walkway, I can see Penny and my parents down on the Big Beach, building the fire for the clambake.
I head to Goose.
I want an explanation. I deserve one.
I want Pfeff to understand—really understand—how much he hurt me. I want to see his regret and his shame.
The boys aren’t at Goose, they’re at the Tiny Beach. Major is lying on his abdomen in the sand, reading the Armistead Maupin book Pfeff bought for him. George and Pfeff are in the water.
I stand at the bottom of the steps, looking at the scene. I feel righteous and shy.
They do not notice me at first. There are sizable waves today, which is unusual in the cove. George and Pfeff are throwing themselves onto boogie boards like little boys.
Major looks up from reading. He’s wearing a black T-shirt and dark blue swim shorts. His forehead and nose are white with sunblock. “Hi, Carrie.”
“Hi.”
“Do you want a sandwich?” he asks. “We have tuna with that crispy lettuce and also roast beef and Havarti on Portuguese sweet dough.”
“No thanks.”
“Tipper said you had a wicked headache.”
“It’s gone now.”
In the water, Pfeff sees me. He looks directly at me, picks up his boogie board, and heads back out to find another wave. He calls something to George I can’t hear.
“I thought I’d talk to Pfeff,” I say.
“Good luck with that,” says Major. “I mean, the guy will talk your ear off, but I’m guessing you want him to listen.”
I walk past Major and down to the water.
Pfeff sees a wave he wants to ride—and turns in my direction. He looks surprised to see me, as if he’d already forgotten I was standing on the beach.
He turns away again. Says something to George.
George waves at me. “You feeling better?” he yells. His square white teeth form a smile.
“Pfeff,” I call. “Can we talk?”
Pfeff doesn’t turn around.
“Pfeff!” I call again.
“What? Hi.” He turns and smiles. “You gonna swim?”
“What?”
“Come swimming.” He runs a hand through his wet hair and comes a little closer. I cannot believe he’s asking me to go swimming. Like I’m an acquaintance. Like nothing bad ever happened.
“I was hoping we could talk.”
George, now a bit farther out than Pfeff, ducks under a wave. When he comes up, he swims, putting some distance between himself and the conversation, seeming occupied with the water and his board.
Pfeff has come close enough to talk but stays knee-deep in the water. “I don’t want to discuss anything,” he says.
“Well, I do.”
“Look,” he says. “I’m impulsive. I make bad choices. That’s who I am. You knew that from the beginning.”
“Will you please come out so we can have a conversation?”
“I kiss a pretty girl in the moonlight with no warning,” he says. “I forget to set alarms. I forget to pack my socks and underwear. I don’t do my schoolwork.”
“I just want to know—”
Pfeff interrupts me. “There’s nothing else for you to know. I said I don’t want to talk. I’m sorry you got upset, Carrie, but I told you the truth up front. I’m going to college in four weeks. This is like, a surreal, enchanted summer that I stumbled into, and I never pretended it was anything else.”
“It’s not a surreal, enchanted summer,” I say. “It’s my life.” How infuriating that he’s standing there in the water and I can’t reach him without getting my pants wet. “I think you owe me an explanation.”
“I just gave you all the explanation you’re going to get,” he says, holding his board in front of his body like a shield. “I make bad choices and you always knew that.”
I want to scream in frustration. Or hit something. I want Major and George to take my side. I want Pfeff to break down in tears and explain why he’s a terrible person. I want him to be penitent and ashamed of himself. I want him to rush at me and scoop me into his arms and kiss me passionately and ask if I’ll forgive him. I want to slap him across his self-satisfied face.
Pfeff turns and flops onto his boogie board. He swims toward George.
I think he’ll turn back, regret how he’s acting, but he does not. He swims out, and out. As if I don’t exist.