Sweet Water(65)

“But what?” she asks. Hanna opens the front door and closes it behind us.

“Do you think those magazines were Martin’s?” I ask.

“Bah-ha-ha!” She explodes into a fit of laughter, and so do I.

And I think everything will be okay as long as I take Hanna’s advice and just do what’s in my heart.





CHAPTER 17

Present

Hanna is probably either working in the office at her part-time consultant gig or at the nail salon getting a gel fill before she has to pick up one of her gorgeous children and shuttle them to an activity. Her versatile personality has always amazed me—part brainiac, part diva, even as a mother of three. Our bond hasn’t loosened either, even though we’re way too busy to see each other, meeting once or twice a year. We’ll squeeze in an occasional phone call if things aren’t too crazy.

She picks up on the first ring. “I’ve been thinking about you. What do you think of a couples’ trip? Xander and me, Martin and you, Cabo. Spring!”

I smile, because this is a new idea, and then frown when I wonder what my marriage will look like by spring. “Um . . .”

“Come on. The kids are almost out of the house. I still have Sienna, but she’d die for a week off from me.”

Hanna’s youngest is giving her a run for her money, a mini-Hanna. When I hear stories about Sienna, it makes me grateful I have boys.

“Hanna, Cabo’s going to have to wait. Things aren’t good between Martin and me, and I hate to be short, but I don’t really have a lot of time to talk.”

“Oh no. I’m sorry. What’s up?”

“This is going to sound weird, but I have to ask you about something that happened in college.” I wince, hoping she doesn’t ask me a ton of questions.

“Okay, shoot.”

“When Tush died, you mentioned Martin’s dad was in the dean’s office.”

“Yeah, they were old frat brothers.”

“They were? I didn’t know that. Hanna, do you think Martin had anything to do with Tush’s death?” I take in a sharp breath. I know the answer is no. We were at that party together, but I just need to hear her say it.

“Wow, rewind to 1996.” She giggles uncomfortably.

“Hanna?”

She sighs. “Okay. I think something was shady about it, but I don’t know what. I told you that. I said Martin wouldn’t still be there if it wasn’t for his money. I think the boys should’ve gotten their charter taken away and didn’t because of his dad and his money and the dean.”

“Was that it? Just the charter?” I ask. I don’t want the answer, but I need the answer.

“I thought so at first, and I told you as much . . .”

She did, although my eighteen-year-old brain didn’t translate it that way. I chose to hear the details I wanted to. “And then what?”

“And then . . . rumors started spreading that Tush was part of a hazing exercise. That he didn’t just drink the alcohol on his own and pass out on the couch like they said. And that the pledges didn’t lead it. Someone had to have led it.”

“But Martin wasn’t there! We were at that party, and he wasn’t.”

“You’re yelling into the phone, in case you needed to check your stress level.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, but I get you. I know. That’s why it’s shady.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about the rumors?”

“Seriously? Everyone was talking about what happened to Tush back then. You were just in your I’m-going-to-save-Martin-Ellsworth-from-himself bubble back then. You were a smitten kitten. The news was out there; I didn’t keep it from you.”

I feel like I’ve just been kicked in the gut. It’s like what Martin said, how I only see the memories I choose to see.

“Sarah, why in the world does any of this matter now?” Hanna asks.

“Things have . . . been hard here, and I’m just questioning everything.”

“How is Finn anyway? I’m so sorry about his girlfriend. When I saw her death on the news and heard through the grapevine that Finn was involved with her, I seriously cried. I thought about texting you about funeral arrangements.”

“I apologize about that. There wasn’t a funeral.”

“Oh . . . Is her death bringing up bad memories of when Tush died?” she asks, and she’s way too smart not to know our conversation is somehow related to what happened in college. I have to get off the phone before I spill the beans. I don’t need to make Hanna an accessory too.

“Exactly. I was around the same age as Finn, ya know? He’s holding up. We all are. By a thread.”

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Thanks. I do have to go, though, Hanna.”

“Sure, but call me tomorrow, okay? I want to talk.”

“Okay, bye, girl.”

“Bye, love you.”

I hang up the phone. “Shit, shit, shit.” William had frat-pack connections with the dean. Tush died of a hazing ritual with an unknown ringleader. None of it bodes well. I’ve been living a lie for the last twenty years.

The sunlight is blinding as I barrel down Route 65, heading south toward the city. I don’t know why Dad would’ve withheld information from me about Martin when we were at CMU, but my run-in with Josh has me thinking he found a lot more in Martin’s room than dirty magazines.