All the Beautiful Lies(30)

The queasiness and fear returning, Harry made himself stand up. He walked back through the barn and to the front of the house. The car was still there, but the woman he’d seen in the kitchen was now standing on the front stoop, framed in the doorway, saying good-bye to Alice.

“Harry, this is Viv. I don’t know if you two have met.”

The woman turned to Harry, her dark eyes searching his face. She was very thin, her cheeks hollowed out, and suddenly the head scarf made sense. She must be sick with cancer, going through chemotherapy.

“I’m sorry about your father, Harry,” she said, her voice an unsurprising rasp. “I’m afraid I missed the funeral; I’ve been away.”

“That’s okay,” Harry said, then added, “Thank you.” His voice sounded shaky in his own head, probably because of the intense way she was looking at him. He willed himself to not look down at the ground.

“Thank you for coming,” Alice said, gently putting a hand on the small of the woman’s back, and walking her to the car. The woman moved fast, as though to escape Alice’s touch, and got into the car without saying anything else.

Harry stepped into the house and there was the smell of cooking. The table was set for two again.





Chapter 13





Then



Alice didn’t see Gina again that summer, not after that time they went swimming. She had denied that she was sleeping with Jake, of course, but it was painfully clear that Gina didn’t believe her, especially when, after they’d come in from the water, Jake had acted so strange, insisting on wrapping Alice’s towel around her. He’d also stared a little too long at Gina, barely covered by Alice’s bikini bottoms and the T-shirt plastered to her chest.

That fall, Jake and Alice drove to Canada, visiting Montreal and Quebec City. “Almost as good as France,” Jake said. “And a lot less expensive.” It was one of the few times that Jake ever mentioned money. Alice had always assumed that because Jake worked in a bank and wore nice suits, and their condo had a view of the water, they were rich and that money would never be a problem. It didn’t matter. Montreal was the most sophisticated place Alice had ever been to. They walked the city in the daytime, stopping into shops, and went to the best restaurants at night. Quebec City was even better, almost magical. They stayed at Le Chateau Frontenac, more of a castle, really, than a hotel. They ordered wine everywhere they went, and no one ever questioned Alice’s age. Maybe some of the hotel staff and waitresses looked at them together and thought they were father and daughter, but no one ever said anything about it. On the final night of their trip, on the boardwalk in Quebec City, Jake put his arm around Alice’s shoulders as they walked, something he’d never done before. “Let’s come back here next year,” Alice said. “This is better than France.”

“Don’t you want to visit other cities? You haven’t been to New York yet, have you?”

“Ugh. No thanks,” Alice said, thinking of Gina, and what it would be like to run into her if she was with Jake. She still couldn’t get the image of Jake, and the way he’d looked at Gina on the beach, out of her mind.

Over the winter, Alice got a part-time job at a drugstore in Kennewick Center. Jake had brought it up, asking Alice if she was bored just taking classes and spending time at home. “No, not really,” she said.

“It doesn’t bother you that you spend so little time with other people?”

Alice frowned and thought about it. “I spend time with professors, and I talk with other students, but you know I’d rather be here with you.”

“I know, I was just . . .” He trailed off.

“Everything okay?”

“Everything’s great. I just wanted to make sure that everything is great with you as well. Just wanted to make sure you didn’t think you were missing out on things other girls your age do. Like go to parties. And have jobs.”

“I definitely don’t miss going to parties. That’s for sure. I hadn’t really thought about a job. Do you think I should get one?”

“I think you should if you want to. You don’t need to, obviously, but I had the thought. They’re hiring at Blethen’s Apothecary.”

She’d applied and been hired at the end of her interview by a manager not a whole lot older than she was, a stutterer named Jeff who was almost skeletally thin. She’d thought she’d hate the job, especially after Jeff informed her that treating customers with respect was her number one priority, but she turned out to love it, even the menial tasks, like restocking the shelves, making sure that everything along the row was displayed neatly and perfectly. She liked this part of the job actually better than running the cash register, but she didn’t even mind that. Her favorite part was cashing out at the end of her shift, adding up the register contents against the receipts, making sure it balanced. She didn’t mind dealing with the customers, but she didn’t like when people recognized her from high school, either old classmates or past teachers. They always asked her what she was doing now, and she’d say that she was taking classes at MCC, and sometimes, though not often, they’d ask her where she was living, and she would simply say that she was still at home. A couple of times, she saw the memory that her mother had died pass across their features. They would blush, or avert their eyes, not knowing what to say. It was awkward, but it didn’t last, and most of the time she never saw them again.