Two Truths and a Lie(63)

“Did you bring your reusable bags or do you want paper?”

Was this an answer? “Paper,” growled Alexa, and she repeated her question about Cam.

“I don’t know,” said the girl. She called, way too loudly, over to the manager’s station. “Bill! When is Cam working next?”

“He’s off for a few days,” said Bill. He moved over to the end of the checkout lane and began bagging Alexa’s groceries. “No reusables?”

“She didn’t bring any,” said the checkout girl. She shrugged at Bill as if to indicate that she couldn’t help it if people didn’t care about the planet.

Bill said, “I think he’s at the lake.”

“Thanks,” said Alexa. She took her paper bag and hightailed it back to her Jeep before she could run into anyone else she knew.



The first thing she did after putting away the groceries, and—out of some inexplicable spite toward the checkout girl—throwing the paper bag in the garbage can instead of recycling it, was to climb the stairs to her bedroom and call Hannah to see if she would switch shifts with Alexa. Alexa would work for her the following day if Hannah would work for her this afternoon at four.

“I don’t know, Amazon,” said Hannah. “I’m at the beach.”

Alexa gritted her teeth at the nickname and set her wheels turning. “Which beach?”

“Jenness.”

“Oh boy,” said Alexa.

“What?”

“Aren’t they getting those crazy thunderstorms up there today?”

Hannah hesitated. “I don’t think so? It looks like really clear now?”

“Hang on,” said Alexa. “Let me put you on speaker phone so I can check.” She paused as if she were checking her weather app and said, “Yeah, right around three. Trust me, that beach is going to clear out.”

There was a faint murmuring, which Alexa took to indicate that Hannah was passing this information on to her fellow beachgoers.

“Crazy,” said Hannah. “I didn’t see anything about that on my app.”

“Are you using the app that came with your phone?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t do that, Hannah. That app is terrible. You’ve got to download Dark Sky. It’s so much better.”

“Really? Dark Sky?”

“Trust me. It keeps up much faster. These summer storms can come from out of nowhere, you know.”

“I do have something I was hoping to do tomorrow,” Hannah considered. “So if you took my shift—”

“Perfect!” said Alexa. “I owe you.”

Hannah was fair-skinned and freckled so probably should limit her sun exposure. If you looked at it correctly, Alexa was doing her a favor.

Back downstairs, she could tell that somebody had come home because the paper bag from Market Basket had been dug out of the garbage and lovingly folded into the recycling bin. She sensed the hand of Morgan the Environmentalist in this, but she didn’t stop to look around because she wanted to get on the road.

She turned off the locator app on her iPhone. Her mother didn’t know how often Alexa did this; she just thought the app was given to “malfunctioning” and wondered when “they” were going to come up with a tracking app that actually tracked reliably.

A quick Google search led her to Cam’s Winnipesaukee address, which she plugged straight into Waze.



The drive to Wolfeboro took her to Alton and then northeast along Winnipesaukee, but she wasn’t paying attention when it was time to make the turn from Route 11 to Route 28, and before she knew it she was heading the wrong way around the lake, adding at least thirty miles (maybe more) to her drive. But that was okay. It was a kick-ass summer day, sunny and cloudless. Along the arm of Alton Bay, the pontoons and the other pleasure craft were out in full force. The lines for ice cream at the myriad outdoor stands were long, and traffic was slow. She didn’t mind. She was enjoying being somewhere different, away from the fishbowl of Newburyport.

She passed the parking for the Sandy Point Beach Resort, which looked like something out of a 1950s movie, and the parking area for Mount Major. She wound through Meredith and Center Harbor and Moultonborough. Finally, just as she was approaching Wolfeboro, she followed her GPS across a skinny, skinny road with water on both sides, made two turns, and arrived at Cam’s house. In case Alexa had any lingering doubts about the address being correct, they were immediately assuaged by the sight of not one, not two, but three vehicles in the driveway (one being the minivan) bearing St. Michael’s College stickers.

She sat for a moment in the Jeep, wondering if she should just turn around and go back home. What, exactly, was she doing here?

There was a movement behind one of the windows. She’d been spotted. Nothing to do now but get out of the car and knock on the door.



“Alexa!” Cam said. He didn’t say, How’d you know where I live, you psycho stalker? He didn’t say, Don’t you remember that I don’t like you very much? He simply smiled and nodded—that broad, welcoming smile—as though he’d been expecting her all along, and he said, “I’m really happy to see you.”

“You are?” Tears sprang inconveniently to Alexa’s eyes. She blinked them back and didn’t let her hand reach up to wipe them away.