Now That You Mention It
Page 83

“Poe,” I said, “I think you should live with me instead of Gran.”
Her crying stopped abruptly.
“Yes,” I said. “I think that’s the best idea.”
“In Boston?” she said, her voice small.
“No. Here. On the island.”
It could work. I’d be full-time at the clinic. I had enough for a hefty down payment on a house. I had all that furniture in storage, just waiting for me to make a home.
Poe had moved enough in her life. She already had friends—well, one, anyway. She was already enrolled in school.
“Yes. Live with me. We can still see Gran all the time, but you belong with me, honey. Here on the island.”
Because I didn’t want to be the girl who’d left Scupper anymore. The one who had to run away to find herself. The one who—let’s face it—had been playing a part for a long time. Not completely; there were things about my Perez self that were genuine. But God, it had been so much work, that person in Boston! Bobby’s girlfriend, the organizer of outings, the most cheerful of the cheerful, the most hardworking of all. I’d been trying too hard for too long.
Here, I wasn’t perfect all the time, not so polished, not so concerned with making the world love me.
Here on Scupper, people knew me.
After all this time, I was really myself.
And so was Poe. She didn’t stomp all the time, she’d let go of a lot of her anger, she had conversations with people, a job, a friend and a genuine sweetness.
This was where we were meant to be.
“Are you sure?” she asked, her blueberry eyes full of hope.
“Completely. I love you, you know.”
“You do?”
“I do.”
She hugged me, the poor little bird, and I hugged her back, long and hard. “Come on. Gran’s a wreck. We have to get back.”
The tide was up to my knees now, the mouth of the cave halfway full. “Looks like we’re gonna have to swim for it,” I said. Our phones would be ruined, but who cared?
“I don’t think so,” Poe said.
“Well, it’s that or drown.” I smiled. “You can do it. I’ll be right there next to you.”
And so we waded in, holding hands, the numbing water stealing our breath, and on the count of three, we went under and pushed off, kicking and reaching. Though the salt water stung my eyes, I opened them to make sure Poe was right there with me.
For just a second, she was Lily, my lost sister now found in her daughter, baptized anew in the harsh bite of the clear, cold Maine ocean.
* * *
My mom was fine with Poe living with me, even if her eyes did fill with tears when I told her.
“I guess that’s a good idear,” she said.
“I’ll still see you every day, Gran,” Poe said, pulling the blanket closer around her shoulders. My mom insisted on wrapping us both up tight, and Donna was making coffee.
“Well, you don’t have to come every day.”
“I will. I promise.”
“By the way, Gran is dating someone,” I said, tilting my head at Donna. “Mrs. K and she are a couple.”
Poe’s eyes bugged out. “I have a lesbian grandmother? Oh, my God, I’m so cool!”
We all laughed, and I ruffled Poe’s wet hair. Boomer’s tail wagged, and he smiled his Dog of Dogs smile, glad that his womenfolk were all right.
Over the next few days, I made plans.
Amelia was more than happy that I’d be staying. We talked about benefits and hours, and I went back to Jim Ivansky, the real estate guy who’d found me the houseboat. Too bad I couldn’t afford to buy that. Asked him to keep an eye out for a little house in town. I called my practice and gave notice and said, of course, I’d come back to visit. Roseline cried when I told her, then gave me some news of her own—she was newly pregnant, and just because I’d be living in Maine didn’t mean I was getting out of godmother duty.
Sully...Sully gave me that ovary-destroyer smile when I told him I’d be staying.
“Don’t get cocky,” I said. “This has nothing to do with you.”
“No, no, I’m just a happy side note here.” He kissed me. “Very happy.”
We still hadn’t slept together—well, the right way, that was. But the girls were going to sleep over at my mom’s this weekend, so hopefully that was about to change.
Five nights after I found Poe in the cave, I got a phone call from a number I didn’t recognize. The area code, however, was 206.
Seattle.
“You have a call from an inmate at Washington State Women’s Correctional Facility,” the recorded voice said. “Press 1 to accept the call.”
My hand was shaking. I pressed 1.
“Lily?” I whispered.
For a minute, there was no response.
“Tell her I’m sorry.” My sister’s voice, which I hadn’t heard in years, cut my heart in half. “I’m so sorry. Take care of my baby, Nora. Take care of her better than I did. I had no business becoming a mother, but I love her, and I’m so, so sorry I couldn’t be better.”
“I will,” I breathed. “I swear it, Lily. I’ll take good care of her.”
“I know you will,” she said, her voice breaking. “I know.”
Tears poured out of my eyes, and I pressed my lips together. “She loves you, too,” I said. “She loves you so much.”
The sound of my sister crying had always gutted me.
It still did.
I wiped my eyes on my sleeve. “Are you okay, Lily?”
There was no answer. Of course, she wasn’t okay.
“Hey,” I said, my voice wobbling. “Guess what I found? In the cave. Remember? Remember what you wrote?”
There was no answer.
“You wrote ‘Nora and Lily, together forever.’ Remember that? I’ll send you a picture of it,” I said.
“I never... I never showed anyone our cave. I never did.”
I bit down on a sob. “I love you, Lily. I love you. I love you. I love you.”
I kept saying it until she hung up so softly I didn’t know the connection had been cut. And even then, I kept saying it.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
28
The morning of Go Far, Be Strong dawned clear and blue, a stiff breeze coming off the ocean.
Xiaowen and I were running together—we kind of had to, as the organizers. We’d asked the high school cross-country teams to join us and run with the littler kids in a shorter run than the 10K for us older folks. Audrey had suggested they all wear superhero T-shirts, so the town green was dotted with Avengers, Batman T-shirts and the Superman symbol. One redheaded girl was dressed like Black Widow—it would be hard to run in leather, but she sure was rocking the look.
Audrey wasn’t quite up for the run just yet, though she’d already committed to next year. She was walking the 3K, though, and wore a shirt that said Healthy Comes in Every Size. Poe had opted to walk with her, holding the Go Far banner. “Gotta stick with my friend,” she said.
I was ridiculously proud of both girls. In fact, I couldn’t look at them without tearing up. Poe saw and rolled her eyes, but there was a smile there, too.
Mom and Donna ran the water station and gave out race numbers to last-minute registrants. A lot of the hug therapy gang was helping, too—Mr. Carver, the weepy widower, Jake, Bob Dobbins, who kept shooting confused looks my mother’s way.