The Winters(59)

“And she and Max, were they happy?”

He looked shocked. “I’m sorry,” he said, and opened the door to leave. “I really wouldn’t know about that.”

He shut the door behind him and left me alone next to Winter’s Girl, looming above her slip, black water gently lapping below.



* * *



? ? ?

By the time Max met me a half hour later, the fire was fading and the boathouse was chillier, but I was no calmer. I had almost finished the first coat of paint on Dani’s Luck, centering the stencil by eye. When he walked in he didn’t say anything at first, and neither did I, still rattled by my dismissal in the kitchen and my awkward episode with Gus. Max crept over to where I was concentrating on making steady business out of the last letter.

“Mind if I watch?”

“Not at all.”

He fetched two stools and placed them near me, sat on one, and propped a brown bag with my breakfast on the other. Those few minutes of silence were a palliative, reminding me of the afternoons and evenings we had spent in the Caymans on those rented boats, each our own little island, where we made the rules and no one lived there except for us. How naive I was to think that could be duplicated here.

“I don’t like to be sent away like that. Makes me feel like a child,” I said, bent over my work.

“I’m sorry.”

“This isn’t a gift for Dani, by the way. It’s more of a gesture.”

“It’s a very nice one. She’ll be pleased.”

“What did you need to discuss with Louisa, without me?”

“Dani, mostly. Rebekah a little. My need to move on from the past.”

I lowered the brush and faced him. “Have you?”

“Have I what?”

“Moved on from the past?”

“Yes.”

“Because it feels to me every time I turn a corner here I get smacked in the face with things I never knew about you.”

We looked at each other for a few moments. Dani’s story was unhinging me and I couldn’t keep it to myself any longer.

“If this is about the greenhouse, I—”

“I never meant to make a big deal about the greenhouse. I understand you have memories in there. But so does Dani, it turns out.”

“What are you talking about?”

“She told me about the night Rebekah died. She remembers a lot more than she lets on, Max. She told me a woman came to Asherley, and that Rebekah was angry about her visit. There was a big fight in the greenhouse, and Rebekah took off in her car.”

Max sunk his chin into his chest for a moment, thinking.

“Who was that woman, Max?”

He looked up at me. “When did she tell you this?”

His voice was soft but his temple twitched.

“Yesterday. Over dinner.”

“I always suspected she was awake that night.”

“So she’s telling the truth? There was a woman?”

“Yes,” he said, after some hesitation.

“Was she your girlfriend, Max? Were you cheating on Rebekah? Because that’s what Dani thinks.”

“That’s what Dani thinks? That’s who Dani thinks that was?”

His body now emptied of all tension, his relief palpable.

“No . . . No, that woman was not my girlfriend.”

“Who was she, then?”

He looked at my face for what felt like a long time. “That woman . . . she was Dani’s birth mother.”

“You knew her mother? Who was she?”

“Just this messed-up girl from Bethpage. A drug addict. Painkillers and the like. Used to come around for money. I never wanted to give her any, but Rebekah would always panic and give her something just to make her go away. Dani doesn’t know about her. She can’t know. I think subconsciously that’s why I didn’t tell you at first that Dani was adopted, to avoid any questions about her mother.”

“Right. Of course.” I felt that satisfying click in my head, of puzzle pieces snugly fitting.

“She never came to see her daughter. We might have allowed it were she not so . . . dangerous. She just wanted money. What else did Dani say about that night? Tell me everything.” His face was etched with worry.

“Just that she came to the door. There was an argument in the greenhouse. Rebekah left the house. You told Dani she went to town to get a fan, and that’s when she crashed her car. Dani thought she might have been driving fast because she was angry at you, at that woman.”

“Well, that’s partially true. I didn’t want her to give her any money. In fact, I . . . I took the cash Rebekah was going to give her. A thousand times I wish I could relive that moment. Give it back.”

He looked on the verge of tears. So was I.

“Rebekah grabbed the car keys, said she was going to an ATM. And they left. Together.”

“But, Max, if they left together, where is she now, Dani’s mother?”

“It’s the craziest thing,” Max said, shaking his head. “When they found Rebekah, I expected they’d find the mother’s body, too, and for everything to come out. But there was no other body. There was no evidence that anyone else was in the car with Rebekah. So . . . I didn’t say anything. I hired a detective to find out what happened to her. He eventually discovered she overdosed not long after the crash, near Tompkins Square Park. And I’m ashamed to say that all I felt was relief. So I made the decision to just . . . put it away. Selfish, I know, and quite illegal. But I was desperate to avoid a scandal, desperate to protect Dani. Losing one mother is bad enough. Two would kill her.”