Sophie said she called him this week, but she was vague about how he took the news that she wasn’t going to see him anymore. I wonder what else was said during that conversation. I assume she left some things out, to protect me. I would do the same.
I’m toweling off in my bedroom when my cell rings. Marcus. In the panic I forgot to text him that I wasn’t coming to the party. I answer on the second ring.
“Sorry! I meant to call,” I say.
“Everything okay? You didn’t show up tonight.”
“When I got home, I found Angus really sick and I had to take him to the clinic.”
“Is he okay? What happened?”
“I think Andrew threw some meat laced with drugs into the yard.”
“Jesus. What an asshole. Is Angus going to be okay?”
“They have to keep him overnight and check that his liver and kidneys aren’t damaged. He’s so sick, Marcus—he threw up all over the house, and he couldn’t move. It was terrifying seeing him like that.”
“I’ll come over.”
“It’s late. You don’t have to.” But I’m relieved at his offer. I don’t want to be alone.
“I’m already out the door. The party is lame without you anyway.”
He arrives fifteen minutes later, carrying a bottle of wine and a Styrofoam plate of snacks. He sets them down on the counter, then pulls me in for a hug. It’s the first time we’ve embraced, and for a second it’s awkward, my nose bumping into his jaw, but then we fit together for a perfect moment before parting. Now I feel cold, bereft. His body had felt so solid and real.
“You okay?” he says.
“Not really.” I walk back into the living room, curl up on the couch. He grabs some glasses in the kitchen, pours the wine, then sets a glass and the plate of snacks in front of me.
“Here. I stole these for you.” He flops down beside me.
“Thanks.” I take a mini-cheese-quiche, pick at the edges. “I’m so worried about Angus. I never should have brought him into my messed-up life. He was better off in the shelter.”
“You didn’t know this was going to happen. Have you told Sophie?”
“Not yet. I’ll talk to her when she gets home. Jared’s parents have rides arranged. We agreed that she’d come home by one.” I check my phone, notice it’s almost nine already.
“Did you call the police?”
“They’re going to trace Andrew’s cell and see if he was near our house. And the vet will try to figure out what kind of pills he was given.”
“How long does Angus have to stay at the clinic?”
“I’ll find out in the morning. I don’t know how I’m going to afford all this. The emergency fee is going to be even more expensive because of the holidays, and—”
“Don’t worry about that right now. I’ll take care of it.”
“I don’t borrow money from friends.”
“Well, you’re going to from this one.” He holds up a hand to stop me from speaking. “I have lots of investments and no one to spend it on. Let me help, please.”
“I’ll pay you back as soon as I can.”
“I’m not worried about that, but I am worried about you. Andrew is escalating.”
“I know. I think he was punishing me because Sophie cut him off. When I tell her what happened to Angus, she’s going to be so upset.”
“Yes, but she’s strong and she has a great support system.”
I rest my head on the back of the couch, think over his words. I hope he’s right. I give him a small smile. “Thanks for coming over tonight. It helps.”
“Of course.” He leans over and squeezes my hand. “I just want to be a good friend. I still feel bad about what I said the other day. I had no right to interfere in your relationship.”
I study his face, searching out any hidden meaning in the words. Does he realize he’s still holding my hand? His skin is so hot. We’re so close. I could lean over and kiss him, which is a crazy thought and one I really shouldn’t be having. I shouldn’t even be on this couch with him.
“It’s okay,” I say. “Friends should be honest.” I hold his gaze.
“Yes, but I went too far. My timing sucked.” He releases my hand, takes a sip of his wine, and I wonder if he’s gathering courage to say more. What does he mean about his timing? He hesitates for another second, but then, as though he’s decided something, he gives his head a small shake and picks up the remote. “Should we watch the ball drop in New York?”
“Sounds good.” I focus on the merriment on TV, the noisy crowd, and the lively cohosts. If there had ever been a window into his thoughts, even a small one, he’d just slammed it shut.
* * *
When Sophie walks through the door a few minutes after one, she’s smiling, her cheeks red from the cold, and singing under her breath. Sophie never sings. Has she been drinking? Jared’s parents said it would be a dry party, but it wouldn’t surprise me if some of the kids snuck booze. I watch as she takes off her coat and boots. She isn’t stumbling or wobbly. She notices Marcus and me sitting in the living room and comes over to flop down in the other chair.
“Happy New Year,” I say. “How was the party?”
“Good.” She yawns, one of her hands reaching up to twirl a chunk of her hair, the violet hue catching the soft light in the living room. “How about yours?” Before I can answer she looks around, a confused expression on her face. “Where’s Angus?”
“I had to take him to the clinic.” There’s no way to soften this. I have to spit it out. “When I got home from work tonight, I found him in the house and he was really sick. I think Andrew threw meat over the fence with some sort of pills in it, but he’s going to be okay.”
She looks stunned, her hand still holding a chunk of her hair. “You sure it was him?”
“He’s the only person who’s angry at me. I hurt him, so now he has to hurt me.”
Her eyes are shiny now and I know she’s close to tears. “I think it’s my fault, Mom. He wanted me to come over today, but I ignored all his calls. That’s probably why he did it.”
“It’s not your fault,” Marcus says in a kind voice. “You didn’t create this.”
“He knows where we live because he followed me home from school one day. I never should have written him.…” Even though I’d suspected Andrew had been following the both of us, it still scares the crap out of me to hear it said aloud. I hate the thought of him stalking her.
“You just wanted a relationship with your father,” Marcus says. “The only crime here is that he screwed up the chance to get to know an amazing kid.”
Their eyes meet and he gives her a smile. “I mean, from what your mom has told me anyway. You could be a total pain in the ass, for all I know.”
She cracks a small smile, but then it falters and she looks at me. “He admitted he left the CD, but I was scared that if I told you, he’d be arrested and then he’d hate me. Are you mad?”
“Oh, honey. No. But I’m sorry he put you in that position. That was really unfair.”
She takes a breath and leans over and picks up one of Angus’s toys from the floor, squishes it a few times, letting the air out in a slow squeak. “Poor Angus.”
“You can come with me when I visit him tomorrow.”
“Okay.” Her phone vibrates and she glances down at the display. “It’s Jared checking to make sure I got home okay. Can I go to my room and call him?”
“Sure, baby. We can talk more in the morning.”
“Good night.” She gets up from the chair, then looks at Marcus. “I appreciate what you said.” He nods.
After she’s gone, I say, “Do you want to stay in the spare room? There might be a lot of idiots out on the road tonight.”
He glances at his wineglass. “That would probably be wise. If you don’t mind?”
“Not at all. I should probably go to bed myself.” I feel shy, uncertain of how to handle this. I can’t count the times we’ve sat at the same table or beside each other, but sitting in the
dark on this couch feels way more intimate.
I stand up. “I’m going to check the doors.”
“You need help?” He clicks off the TV.
“No, I’ve got it. Do you remember where the spare room is?”
“I think I can find it.” Now he stands up.
“Okay.” We’re two feet from each other. I think about giving him a hug but wonder where that would lead. Then I think about Greg. “Well, good night.” I spin around. When I’ve finished checking all the doors and windows, Marcus has disappeared into the spare room.
* * *
My phone ring wakes me up the next morning. Greg calling to wish me a Happy New Year. “Sorry I didn’t call last night,” he says. “There was no reception at the chalet.”
“That’s okay, but I had a crappy night.” I tell him about Angus. “I’m hoping he’s better this morning.” I glance at the clock, wonder when the clinic opens.
“You and Sophie have to stay with me so I can protect you,” Greg says, his voice firm. “I’m taking the early ferry home. I can meet you at my house around noon.”
“You sure you want that?”
“You know I’m ready.” He leaves the rest unsaid. I’m the one who has doubts, and we both know it. I think about Marcus sleeping in the spare room. It feels good to be talking to Greg, reminds me how comfortable and easy it is to be around him. I don’t worry about what I’m saying or how I’m saying it. Maybe this will be a good test for us as a couple.
“Okay,” I say. “We’ll pack some things.” I’ll tell Sophie when she wakes. She might not be thrilled about staying with Greg, but at least we’ll still be in Dogwood Bay.
I take a quick shower, pull on some leggings and a sweater. When I walk out into the kitchen, Marcus is already sitting at the table with a cup of coffee. His clothes and hair are rumpled and he has a dark shadow on his jaw, but it just makes him look even more attractive. I have a twinge of doubt about agreeing to stay with Greg. Too late now.
“Good morning,” Marcus says. “Hope you don’t mind I made coffee.”
“Of course not.” I pour myself a cup. “Want to stay for breakfast?”
“I should probably get out of your hair, unless you want me to go to the clinic with you?”
“We’ll be okay. I don’t want to take up all your time.” We’re being so polite, which is odd. You’d think him spending the night would have made us closer as friends. Instead we’re tiptoeing around each other like complete strangers.
“It’s really no problem,” he says.
“If Angus is allowed to go home, we’ll probably take him straight to Greg’s.”
He looks up from his mug. “He’s back?”
“On his way. We’re going to stay at his house for a few days.”
“Oh.” He’s staring at me, but then he jolts his head as though snapping himself out of something, and says, “That’s good. I feel better knowing you’re safe.”
“Do you?” The words are out before I have a chance to think about them.
We’re looking at each other, his expression uncertain, as though he’s not sure what I’m really asking. I hold his gaze steady. His lips part. He’s going to say something. Then shuffling footsteps behind us. He looks over my shoulder. Sophie wanders into the kitchen. I take a step back, as though she caught us kissing. She gives me an odd look, then yawns.
“Can we go get Angus now?” she says.
“I’ll call the clinic soon.”
Marcus stands up. “I better get going.”
“I’ll walk you out.” At the door, I say, “Thanks for coming over last night.”
“Sure.” He steps out, then turns. “You tell Greg that if he lets anything happen to you, he’ll have to answer to me.” He’s smiling, but there’s tension around his eyes. Is it worry for me, or something else? I feel awkward, off balance, like the porch is tilting under my feet.
“I will.” I watch him drive away, then close the door.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
SOPHIE
JANUARY 2017
“Your room has a great view,” Greg says. “You’ll see in a minute.”
I nod and try to look pleased, but I don’t like the way he says “your” room, as though I’m going to be staying here for long. He’s showing me around his house and Mom is along for the tour, but I know she’s been over to his place lots. I’m trying not to think about that. I mean, I’m happy she has a boyfriend, but the thought of my mom having sex is just too weird. This is the first time we’ve all spent the night in the same house. I’m really hoping the spare room is far away from his room or I’m going to have to keep earbuds in all night, just in case.
His house is in an older subdivision, two stories, with a robin’s-egg-blue bathroom, orange countertops in the kitchen, and an almond-colored fridge and stove, like it’s all out of some movie from the seventies. It smells like lemon polish and Windex and the carpet has vacuum lines. He must’ve cleaned up before we got here. Above the fireplace there’s a painting of a surfer standing with his board watching the waves, and he has some framed photographs of his family on the mantel. I drift past, glance at their faces. They look happy.
I’ll be sleeping upstairs at the end of the hall. The room is big, with a queen bed and windows that look out over his backyard. I wish Angus was with us—he’d love digging holes in all that snow—but he’s stuck at the clinic for another night. The bedding looks new, a deep purple duvet cover and pillowcases, and smells like fresh laundry detergent. I wonder if he bought it today and washed it already. There’s also a small TV on the dresser.
“I set that up before you came over,” he says. “Thought you might want some privacy.”
I turn to look at him. He’s standing in the doorway, Mom beside him, and I know she wants me to say something nice, but I’m realizing, for the first time, how they don’t really fit together. Mom is kind of preppy, wholesome, like one of those women who go back to school in their forties and becomes a doctor or something. Greg looks like one of those guys who never really grows up. I instantly feel bad for the thought. “Thanks for letting us stay here.”
“No problem. I want you to feel at home. If you guys end up staying longer, you can paint the room whatever color you want.”
“We’re going to be living here?” Mom didn’t say anything like that. When we went to visit Angus, she just said we were going to Greg’s until the police find out if Dad was in our neighborhood yesterday afternoon. The vet figured out Angus was drugged with Ambien. Mom freaked when she heard that.
Greg’s face kind of turns red and he looks at Mom. Her face is also flushing. “We don’t know yet what’s going to happen,” she says. “Let’s take one day at a time for now.”
I give her a how-can-you-do-this-to-me look. She smiles brightly and says, “So should we order pizza for dinner? Greg says there’s a really good restaurant nearby.”
“I’m not hungry.” After we saw Angus, Mom and I went to Tim Hortons, then home to pack up. My sandwich is still sitting like a lump in my stomach.
“We’ll order a couple types,” Greg says. “You can decide later.”
I sit down on the bed. “Okay if I hang out in here for a little bit and watch some TV?” I make my eyes big and sad. “I’m just really upset about Angus.”
Mom narrows her eyes at me, making it clear she knows I’m playing her, but I know she won’t say anything in front of Greg. I am upset about Angus and what my dad did to him, but mostly I want to be alone so I can call Jared.
“Sure,” she says. “Come out whenever you’re ready.”
After they’re gone, I close the door behind them, then settle on the bed and turn on the TV. I don’t plan on watching anything, but I want the background noise. I flip to the music channel and it’s playing one of the songs we listened to at Jared’s party last night. I smile at the memory. The party was fun, and Jared was right, his friends were nice. Even the girls—one of them said she loved my hair. Jared was also right about
his parents leaving us alone. I only saw them once at the door, then we hung out downstairs for the rest of the time. A few kids had brought bottles of booze and Jared rolled a couple of joints. I wasn’t going to smoke any, but then he blew some in my mouth and it was kind of sexy and fun and I ended up getting high.
We snuck upstairs to his room and made out for a while. We even took our shirts off and it was amazing, feeling his skin next to mine. I almost wanted to go all the way with him, had made up my mind to just get it over with, but when his hands started going down my pants, I panicked and said no. He rolled over and stared up at the ceiling for a while, his chest heaving.
“I thought you were into it?”
“I am, but that doesn’t mean I want to do everything.”
He turned and looked at me. “Are you a virgin?”
I felt the heat in my cheeks. “Screw you.” I started to get up.
He grabbed my hand. “No, sorry. Stay. I didn’t know. I’ll slow things down, okay?” I settled back down beside him and he rolled closer. “I wish you could stay here forever.”
“You’d get bored of me.”
“No,” he said firmly. “I’ll never get bored of you.”
We texted all night after I got home, and a few times today. He knows we’re staying at Greg’s. My phone vibrates now. How’s it going?
Okay.
Heard from your dad?
No. He’s such an asshole. I can’t believe he tried to kill Angus!
Want to get something to eat?
Greg and my mom are ordering pizza.
So?
I’ll ask.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, Jared picks me up. I thought Mom would insist I stay home with them, but I think she feels bad about everything and only asked me to be back by ten. When Jared comes to the door she walks us out. “Be careful on the roads.”
“Sure thing, Lindsey.” My mom smiles, but it looks fake, then she closes the door. Sometimes I get the feeling she might not really like Jared, but I’m not sure why. It probably doesn’t help when he calls her by her first name, which is pretty bold. We get in his car.
“Why do you call my mom Lindsey?”