Daria started to say something Shelly couldn’t hear, but he stopped her and kept on talking.
“I know long-distance relationships are for the birds,” he said, “and I know our relationship is very new. But in some ways, it’s one of the oldest and most enduring relationships I’ve had. I have to ask you this. I’m sure of your answer, but selfishly, I just have to ask it. Is there any chance…any chance at all that you would move to California? With Shelly, I mean, even though I know it would be hard for her to leave the Outer Banks.”
Shelly’s heartbeat quickened at the thought, and Rory rushed on, without waiting for Daria to answer him.
“I know there’s the baby to take into consideration now,” he said. “But I just don’t want to lose you now that I found you. We could move closer to the beach in California. Maybe that would make it easier for Shelly to live there.”
Shelly held her breath, waiting for Daria’s answer. What about Andy? Plus, there were earthquakes in California. And she wouldn’t be able to breathe there. She couldn’t even breathe in Greenville.
Daria’s answer was a very long time coming. “It’s impossible,” she said finally, and Shelly’s body literally shook with relief. “There’s no way Shelly could ever move to California, with its earthquakes and its…. It’s just not the Outer Banks.”
“Leaving Shelly out of this for just a minute,” Rory said. “What do you want?”
Again, it took Daria a long time to answer, and Shelly heard tears in her sister’s voice. “I want to be with you,” Daria said. “But I love Shelly. I love her so much, and she’s my first concern. I was the one who found her and saved her life, and I’m the one responsible for taking care of her. And now there’s going to be a baby to take care of, as well. She’s never going to give it up, and she can’t possibly be expected to take care of it herself. And…I don’t see a way of doing that…of taking care of Shelly, and being with you at the same time. It’s the same as it was with Pete.”
Shelly turned her head toward the window. What did she mean, “The same as it was with Pete”?
“Only Pete didn’t want Shelly to come with you to Raleigh,” Rory said. “I’d want Shelly with us. That’s the difference.”
“Yes, that’s one of many differences between you and Pete,” Daria said. “But the end result is still the same: Shelly can’t leave here, so neither can I.”
“There’s one other difference,” Rory said. “Pete broke up with you because you wouldn’t leave. I don’t have any intention of doing that. I’ll find a way to make this work. If I have to choose between having a long-distance relationship with you and no relationship with you, well, that’s a no-brainer.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that,” Daria said.
“Daria,” Rory said slowly, “I don’t mean to push you on this. But maybe Shelly is more capable than you give her credit for. Maybe she would be able to take care of a baby with Andy’s help.”
“You don’t know Andy well enough,” Daria said. “He is nearly as…unreliable as she is. He’s a great carpenter, but he wants to be an EMT and there’s no way he’ll ever pass the test. And do I have to remind you of the accident with the pilot? Grace’s daughter? If it hadn’t been for Shelly’s lapse in judgment during that rescue, Grace’s daughter might still be alive. How can I be sure she’d use any better judgment in taking care of a child?”
What? Shelly raised herself to her elbows to hear better. What was Daria talking about? The pilot was Grace’s daughter? What had she done to cause her death? She searched her memory, racing back over those frantic minutes in the cold water. What had she done? And what was she doing to Daria? Daria was crying on the other side of the window because of her. She’d been the cause of Pete breaking up with her. She’d had no idea. She’d just gone merrily on her way, thinking Daria was just as happy as she was in the Outer Banks. And now she was standing in the way of her relationship with Rory, as well. But there was no way she could leave the Outer Banks. No way. No way. No way.
If Daria had never found Shelly on the beach, the pilot would still be alive.
Somehow she’d killed the pilot. And she was slowly killing her sister, as well.
50
RORY WAS BEGINNING TO GET WORRIED. HE’D BEEN ON THE beach nearly an hour, and there was still no sign of Daria or Shelly. He’d helped Jill and her husband build the fires and carry the picnic table from their house to the beach. People had arrived, including Chloe, who was carrying Daria’s baked beans, and Ellen and Ted, sunburned from their day on the fishing pier. Daria would be over soon, they told him; she was with Shelly, who was still a little groggy from her seizure that afternoon. Now he was wondering if he should go to the Sea Shanty to make sure everything was okay.
As darkness fell, Zack and the other teenagers loaded their plates and went off to their own bonfire, away from the adults and the Wheelers’ two youngest granddaughters, who at eight and nine, were caught between the older kids and the grown-ups and not very happy in either camp.
The adults started eating once the teens had moved away from the food-laden table, but Rory held off, still waiting for Daria. Coppery sparks rose into the sky from the bonfire, and he sat on a beach chair, talking to Linda and Jackie, their dog Melissa lying at his feet. He kept glancing toward the Sea Shanty, and finally spotted Daria walking toward him. He excused himself from Linda and Jackie and went to meet her. Only when he was next to her, did he see that Shelly was with her.
“Hi, Shelly,” he said.
Shelly gave him a halfhearted wave before walking away from them, toward the teenagers.
Putting his arm around Daria’s shoulders, he guided her to the picnic table, covered now with half-empty bowls and trays of food.
“I was getting worried about you,” he said.
“I didn’t want to leave Shelly,” Daria said, looking over her shoulder toward the group of teenagers. “She hasn’t pulled out of her post-seizure fog the way she usually does.”
“She doesn’t seem like her usual perky self,” he admitted, remembering the weak wave she’d offered him.
“She’s not. She’s very…subdued. And she’s not talking to me. She’s angry with me for blowing up at her, I guess. I still feel bad about it.”
“Isn’t she going to eat?” Rory asked.
“I doubt it. She said she’s not hungry.”
“What is she usually like after a seizure?” he asked.
“Tired. She usually sleeps for a while, and then she rallies. Not this time, though.”
“Could her pregnancy have something to do with it? Either physically or psychologically?”
“I wondered that myself,” Daria said. “I’ll have to do some research into seizures during pregnancy.”
Rory handed her a plate. “The food is different than it was when we were kids,” he said, spooning some of her beans onto his own plate. “Everything’s low-fat now. It’s all salads and couscous and tabouli. What happened to the burgers and the barbecue?”
Daria smiled, and he was glad to see it. “I didn’t realize it, but you’re right,” she said. “I come to the bonfire every year, so the changes have been gradual for me. But compared to when we were kids, this is completely different fare.”
“Except for your beans,” he said. “They’re the only good, down-home cooking on the table. Your mother used to make these, too, didn’t she?” He ate a forkful of the beans before moving on to the next offering.
“Uh-huh.”
“I remember, because I wouldn’t eat them,” he said with a laugh. “I thought it was weird that they had all these different-colored beans in them. Didn’t look like the canned kind I was used to.” He took another bite. “Didn’t know what I was missing.”
He couldn’t believe he was talking to her about beans and food, when his insides were still churning from their conversation that afternoon. In less than two weeks, the country would divide them. She felt the same way, he could tell by the way she looked at him as they
sat down on the beach chairs near the fire. It was a look of resignation and sorrow that made him reach out to touch her arm. He wished they had the beach to themselves rather than having to share it with their neighbors from the cul-de-sac.
Daria suddenly looked over her shoulder in the direction of the cul-de-sac. “There’s Grace,” she said.
Rory turned around. Sure enough, Grace had crossed through the sea oats and was walking toward them, a large bowl in her arms. “What’s she doing here?” he said under his breath to Daria. He hadn’t seen Grace, hadn’t even heard from her, since the day he’d told her that he and Daria were together. He stood up and took a step away from the circle to greet her.
“Hi, Rory. Hi, Daria,” Grace said, an uncertain smile on her face. “I hope you don’t mind my stopping by. I brought some fruit salad.”
Daria rested her plate on the fire ring and stood up to take the bowl from Grace’s arms. “We’ve got the food over here,” she said, walking toward the picnic table.
Grace must have caught Rory’s look of confusion as they followed Daria to the table. “I know you weren’t expecting to see me here,” she said. “And, Daria, I want you to know how really pleased I am that you and Rory are…you know, seeing each other.”
Daria gave her a half smile. “Thanks,” she said.
“I think you two are really good together,” Grace continued. “But when I remembered that tonight was the bonfire, I decided to come over. I hope that’s all right. It’s just that I knew everyone from the cul-de-sac would be here, and there’s something I need to talk about. To everyone.”
Why? he wanted to ask. Grace had perplexed him from the moment he’d met her. He wasn’t sure what she was up to this time, but he didn’t feel like making her his responsibility.
“Okay,” he said. “Help yourself and come sit by the fire.”
He and Daria waited while she took a couple of spoonfuls of food onto her plate, then the three of them moved to the fire. Rory found an empty beach chair and set it in the sand next to Daria for Grace. Better next to her than him, he thought. Chloe, who was sitting on the other side of the fire near Ellen and Ted, greeted Grace by name, but the other neighbors merely nodded and smiled in her direction.
Chloe stood up and moved to the empty beach chair next to Rory, leaning across him to speak to Daria.
“How’s Shelly?” she asked. “Isn’t she eating?”
“She said she’s not hungry,” Daria said.
“What’s wrong with Shelly?” Grace asked. “Where is she?”
“She had a seizure today,” Daria said. “I think she’s still feeling a little tired from it.”
“Is she at the Sea Shanty?” Grace glanced over her shoulder, where the widow’s walk was barely visible in the darkness.
“No, she’s down there with the kids.” Daria pointed toward the second fire.
Melissa lifted her head to sniff Rory’s food, then leaned against his legs. He scratched her behind her ears.
“My guys are going to miss you when summer’s over,” Linda said to Rory from her seat on the other side of the fire. She had her arm around Jackie.
“Yeah, I was thinking I might have to get me one of these when I get home.” Rory looked down at Melissa’s kind eyes.
“When do you leave?” Ted asked.
“September third.”
“I’m sorry to see you go,” Ted said. “It’s great seeing you and Daria together.”
Ellen rested her empty plate on the edge of the fire ring. “So, was this just an end-of-the-summer fling for the two of you?” she asked bluntly. “What happens next?”
Rory took Daria’s hand again. “No,” he said calmly. “It’s not a summer fling. We’ll have to figure out how to keep things going. I’d like to have Daria and Shelly move to California, but Daria doesn’t think that would work out.”
“Shelly would never survive in California,” Daria said. “And she needs me too much for me to just pick up and move three thousand miles away.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” Ellen said. “When are you going to start living your own life, Daria?”
Rory felt Daria bristle next to him, and Ellen continued. “It’s like you’re married to her,” she said.
“Ellen, that’s really not fair,” Rory said. He wondered how Ellen could talk that way to Daria, when Daria had been the one to so lovingly raise the child Ellen had abandoned.
“Daria’s done the best job possible with Shelly,” Chloe said to Ellen.
“I agree,” Grace said firmly. “From what I’ve seen, Daria’s been fantastic for Shelly.”
“Give me a break,” Ellen said. “If anything, she’s ruined Shelly.”
The atmosphere around the bonfire was suddenly thick with tension. Mrs. Wheeler told her granddaughters to “go over to the picnic table and get some dessert.” Jill studied her fingernails, and Jackie studiously began petting one of the dogs.
“I’m sorry, Daria,” Ellen continued, “but it’s the truth, and it’s time somebody told you. You’ve made Shelly so dependent on you and on this tiny little corner of the world, that living anywhere else is going to be a major hurdle for her. But it’s a hurdle she has to jump over one of these days, and you need to let her.”
“Don’t you dare give me advice about Shelly.” Daria’s voice was even, too even, and in the firelight, Rory saw the rigid set of her jaw. “You see her for a couple of days at a time, then you go back to your own, self-absorbed life and complain about what I’ve done with her. That doesn’t help, Ellen. As a matter of fact, you’ve done nothing to help with Shelly, have you?”
Chloe reached across Rory to wrap her hand around Daria’s arm. “Daria,” she said softly. “Not here, sis.”
“You wouldn’t have accepted my help even if I’d offered it,” Ellen said. “You resented any suggestions I’ve ever made. In my opinion, you should move to California and be with Rory. Leave Shelly here, if this is where she wants to be. She’s an adult now. She’ll survive somehow.”
Daria wrenched her arm free of Chloe’s hand. “Is that what you thought when you left her on the beach twenty-two years ago?” she snapped. “That she’d survive somehow?”
The bonfire crackled, waves broke and hissed to shore, and the teenagers laughed. But no one around the bonfire uttered a word. People looked from Daria to Ellen and back again. Ellen’s mouth dropped open in what Rory guessed to be a pretense of shock.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Ellen bit off each word as it came out of her mouth.
“I’ve had it with your insensitivity to Shelly,” Daria said.
Rory stroked his hand down Daria’s back, wishing there was something he could do to change the direction of her anger. This was not the place or time for a personal confrontation. But Daria seemed completely unaware that her neighbors were even present, much less paying attention to every word.
“Shelly has special needs,” Daria continued. “And she probably wouldn’t have them if you’d…If she’d been born in a hospital to a mother willing to take responsibility for her, she’d probably be fine. You’ve even been a lousy mother to the two daughters you acknowledge as yours.”
Ted leaned forward. “Daria, you’re off your rocker,” he said. “If you’ve got a bone to pick with—”
“Are you accusing me of being Shelly’s mother?” Ellen interrupted her husband. “Is that what you’re saying?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Daria said.
“You are losing it, Daria,” Ellen said. “I didn’t have anything to do with Shelly being dumped on the beach.”
Daria started to stand up, but Rory caught her arm. She looked at him and must have seen the plea in his eyes, because she dropped into the chair again. When she spoke, her voice was calmer.
“I know this isn’t the time for this,” Daria said. “I’m sorry I spilled it out this way. But it’s the truth, Ellen, and it’s time you admitted it. I found your pukka-shell necklace lying right next to
the baby. I’ve known all along. I didn’t say anything back then because I didn’t want to get you in trouble. But it’s twenty-two years later, and it’s time to own up to the fact that Shelly was yours.”
Rory’s gaze was suddenly drawn to Grace. She looked truly ill, her face more ashen than usual. Even the golden flames from the fire brought no color to her cheeks. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but Chloe spoke first.
“I took Ellen’s necklace that night,” Chloe said.
All heads turned in her direction. Sitting right next to her, Rory could see the resolve in Chloe’s face.
“I borrowed it without her permission,” Chloe continued. “I never knew what happened to it. I guess it fell off while I was…” Her voice trailed off. She stared into the fire, then looked up again, her eyes glassy and apologetic as she turned to Daria. “Shelly’s mine,” she said.
“Chloe.” Mrs. Wheeler breathed the word in disbelief.
Rory’s mind raced. Sean Macy. The priest had been involved with Chloe for many years, had even managed to help her parents adopt Shelly. No wonder he had killed himself when Rory was trying to uncover Shelly’s parentage. He rested his hand lightly on Chloe’s arm. “Yours and Sean’s,” he said softly, not wanting anyone else to hear.
“No,” she said in a whisper. The piercing look in her eyes was meant just for him, and it sent a chill down his back. “Not Sean’s,” she said.
Rory went numb as he realized what she was telling him.
“Chloe,” Daria said. “I don’t understand.” And Rory knew she understood even less than she thought.
“Where’s Shelly?” The voice came from the beach, and Rory turned to see Andy approaching the bonfire.
For a moment, no one said a word; Chloe’s admission had stolen their voices. “She’s down there with the youngsters.” Mr. Wheeler pointed toward the second bonfire.