Rainshadow Road (Friday Harbor #2)(14)

“If it were me,” Justine said, “I wouldn’t leave. I’d stay and make them feel as guilty as hell. I’d be in their faces at every possible opportunity.”

“This is where your friends are,” Zoë told Lucy. “Stay with us. You have a support system to help you through this.”

“I do?”

“Of course you do. Why would you even ask that?”

“Because I’ve met most of my friends on the island through Kevin. Even you. Do all the friends go back to him now?”

“He’ll probably keep some of them,” Justine said. “But you get us, and our awesome advice, and a place to stay for as long as you want.”

“Do you have an available room?”

“Only one,” Zoë said. “The room that’s always available.” She gave Justine a dark glance.

“Which one is that?” Lucy asked.

Justine answered somewhat sheepishly. “The Edvard Munch room.”

“The artist who painted The Scream?” Lucy asked.

“He painted things other than just The Scream,” Justine said. “I mean, yeah, I put that particular print in the room because it’s his most famous work, but I also included some pretty ones, like Four Girls on a Bridge.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Zoë said. “All anyone ever notices in that room is The Scream. I told you people don’t want to go to sleep looking at that.”

“I do,” Lucy said. “It’s the perfect room for a woman going through a breakup.”

Justine gave her a fond glance. “You can stay there as long as you want.”

“And after she leaves,” Zoë said, “we’ll redecorate with a new artist.”

Justine scowled. “Who do you have in mind?”

“Picasso,” Zoë said decisively.

“You have a problem with Munch, but not with a man who painted women with three eyes and square br**sts?”

“Everyone who checks in to the bed-and-breakfast asks if they can stay in the Picasso room. I’m tired of telling them we don’t have one.”

Justine heaved a sigh and turned her attention to Lucy. “After you finish your muffin, I’ll drive you over to the house to pick up your stuff.”

“We may run into Kevin,” Lucy said gloomily.

“She’s hoping to run into Kevin,” Zoë assured her.

Justine smiled grimly. “Preferably with my car.”

* * *

A couple of days after settling into the room at Artist’s Point, Lucy finally worked up the nerve to call her sister. The situation felt unreal. After all the years of enabling Alice, giving her whatever she wanted or needed, had it now come to this? Had Alice actually felt entitled to take Lucy’s boyfriend without worrying about the consequences?

Lucy sat on the bed with the phone in hand. The Munch room was attractive and warm, the walls painted a spicy reddish-brown that contrasted perfectly with the crisp white trim, the bedding a colorful geometric pattern. And the giclée prints, such as Four Girls on a Bridge, or Summer Night at Asgardstrand were nice. It was only the nightmarish The Scream, with its gape-mouthed anguish and palpable suffering, that brought the mood down. Once you caught sight of it, you couldn’t focus on anything else.

As Lucy pressed the speed-dial button, she stared at the openmouthed figure clutching his ears, the bloodred sky above him, the blue-black fjord below. She knew exactly how he felt.

Her stomach flipped over as Alice picked up.

“Hello?” Her sister’s voice was wary.

“It’s me.” Lucy took a shallow breath. “Is Kevin there with you?”

“Yes.”

Silence.

It was a different kind of silence than they had ever shared before. Choking, chilling. Lucy had practiced many ways to have this conversation, but now that it was here, she couldn’t get the words out.

Alice spoke first. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say.”

Lucy found refuge in anger, clinging to it like a survivor with a life preserver. Supposed to say? “You could tell me why you did it,” she said.

“It just happened. Neither of us had any control over it.”

“You may not have been able to control your feelings,” Lucy said, “but you could have controlled your actions.”

“I know. I know everything you’re going to say. And I know it doesn’t help for me to say I’m sorry, but I am.”

“Alice. Every time in your life that you’ve said ‘I’m sorry,’ to me, I’ve always said it was okay. But this is not okay. It will never be okay. How long have you been doing it?”

“You mean how long have we been dating, or—”

“Having sex. When did you start having sex?”

“A few months. Since Christmas.”

“Since—” Lucy broke off. There wasn’t enough air in the room. She was breathing like a landed fish.

“We haven’t gotten together all that often,” Alice said quickly. “It was hard to find the time to—”

“To sneak around behind my back?”

“Kevin and I should have handled this differently. But I didn’t take anything away from you, Lucy. You and Kevin had grown apart. It was obvious things weren’t going well between you.”