Heroes Are My Weakness(105)

“Uh . . . Hello,” Jaycie said with only minimal self-consciousness.

“I will now tell you about myself.” Scamp proceeded to lay out her accomplishments, calling herself a talented singer, dancer, actress, housepainter, and race car driver. “I can also catch lightning bugs and open my mouth really wide.”

Livia giggled as Scamp demonstrated, and Jaycie began to relax. Scamp continued chattering before finally tossing her yarn curls and saying, “I, Scamp, love free secrets because they help me talk about bad things. Like the bad things that happened to you, Livia, and to your mommy. But . . . Your mommy doesn’t know about free secret.”

As Annie had hoped, Livia butted in to explain. “Free secret is when you can tell somebody something, and they aren’t allowed to get mad at you.”

Scamp leaned toward Jaycie and said, in a stage whisper, “Livia and I would very much like you to tell us a free secret. We want to hear about that awful, terrible, horrible night you shot Livia’s father and he died dead. And since it’s a free secret, nobody can get mad.”

Jaycie turned away.

“It’s okay, Mommy.” Livia spoke as if she were the adult. “Free secrets are very safe.”

Jaycie hugged her daughter, tears filling her eyes. “Oh, Liv . . .” She pulled herself together. At first hesitantly, then gradually gaining strength, she talked about Ned Grayson’s alcoholism. Using language a four-year-old could understand, she explained how it made him violent.

Livia listened raptly. Jaycie, fearing the effect her words were having, kept stopping to ask if Livia understood, but Livia seemed more curious than traumatized. By the time they were done, she was on her mother’s lap getting kissed and demanding lunch.

“First, you must promise to keep talking to each other about this whenever you need to,” Scamp said. “Do you promise?”

“We promise,” Livia said solemnly.

Scamp stuck her head in Jaycie’s face. Jaycie laughed. “I promise.”

“Excellent!” Scamp exclaimed. “My work here is done.”

After lunch, when Livia wanted to ride her scooter on the front porch, Annie went out with Jaycie and settled on the top step next to her. “I should have talked to her from the beginning,” Jaycie said as the scooter bumped over the floorboards with Livia struggling to keep her balance. “But she was so young. I kept hoping she’d forget. Stupid of me. You knew right away what she needed.”

“Not right away. I’ve been doing a lot of research. And it’s easier to be objective as an outsider.”

“Not a good excuse, but thanks.”

“I’m the one who’s thankful,” Annie said. “Thanks to Livia, I know what I want to do with my life.” Jaycie cocked her head, and Annie told her what she hadn’t yet confided to anyone. “I’m going to start training to be a play therapist—using puppets to help traumatized children.”

“Annie, that’s wonderful! It’s perfect for you.”

“Do you think so? I’ve talked to some play therapists over the phone, and it feels right.” This career fit her better than acting ever could. She would have to go back to school, something she wouldn’t be able to afford for a while, but she had a good academic record, and her experience working with kids might help her get scholarship money. If it didn’t, she’d apply for a loan. One way or another, she intended to make this work.

“I admire you so much.” Jaycie got a faraway look in her eyes. “I’ve been locked up as tight as Livia—feeling sorry for myself, fantasizing about Theo instead of getting on with my life.”

Annie knew all about that.

“If you hadn’t come here . . . ” Jaycie shook her head, as if she were getting rid of cobwebs. “I’m not just thinking about Livia but about the way you’ve taken control of your life. I want a fresh start, and I’m finally going to do something about it.”

Annie knew all about that, too.

“What are you going to do about the cottage?” Jaycie said.

Annie didn’t want to tell her what the grandmothers had done or admit that she’d fallen in love with Theo. “I’m moving out right away and leaving the island on the car ferry next week.” She hesitated. “Things with Theo have gotten . . . too complicated. I’ve had to end it.”

“Oh, Annie, I’m sorry.” Jaycie displayed no schadenfreude, only genuine concern. She’d meant what she’d said about Theo being a fantasy and not her reality. “I was hoping you wouldn’t leave so soon. You know how much I’m going to miss you.”

Annie gave her an impulsive hug. “Me, too.”

Jaycie was stoic when Annie told her she needed to find someplace to stay until the car ferry arrived. “I can’t keep running into Theo at the cottage. I . . . need some private space.”

She intended to talk to Barbara about finding someplace temporary. Annie could ask for a golden unicorn, and the grandmothers would come up with a way to find it for her. Anything to buy her silence.

But as it turned out, Annie didn’t need Barbara. With a single phone call, Jaycie found Annie a home.


LES CHILDERS’S LOBSTER BOAT, THE Lucky Charm, was temporarily moored at the fish house dock while its owner waited for a crucial engine part to arrive on the same ferry that would take Annie back to the mainland next week. Les took good care of the Lucky Charm, but it still smelled of bait, rope, and diesel fuel. Annie didn’t care. The boat had a small galley with a microwave and even a tiny shower. The cabin was dry, a heater provided a little warmth, and, most important, she wouldn’t have to see Theo. In case she hadn’t been clear enough yesterday, she’d left a note for him at the cottage.