Existing (34 page)

Four days later
, I gather the beautiful bouquet of pink roses that Cabe brought me and follow my Dad down the corridor. I can’t walk as fast as I usually do because of the stitches in my side but over, I’m doing okay. The doctors have said I made a remarkable recovery and I feel like it. A few days ago, I couldn’t stay awake for longer than half an hour, but now I can stay awake for pretty much the whole day. I still feel tired but I can fight it more easily now. My muscles feel weak, but I know they’ll build back up again.

“Hallie has gone to stay with her Mother in Utah for a few weeks
while you recover,” he tells me.

I stop. “What about
Ava?”

He scratches his head and presses the elevator call button. “She’s taken
Ava too. She thought it best that they stay out of your way so you can relax at home and not worry about Ava running around and asking to play.”

“What about her school?”
I ask.

“She’s having some lessons
while she’s out there. Don’t worry about it.”

How does he expect me to not wor
ry about it? Hallie was terrible with Ava. Even with my dodgy memory, I remember what she’s like. “Is that why Ava hasn’t been to see me?”

The elevator pings. My father steps into it and holds the doors open while I shuffle inside. “We didn’t let her come to see you at the beginning because we thought it would have frightened her, and then Hallie managed to get a cheaper flight by going out a few days ago rather than at the weekend.”

Something doesn’t feel right. This doesn’t feel like my Father’s doing at all. More like Hallie escaping because she doesn’t want to have to look after me.

“I think we need to talk when we get home
, Rose.”

I look up and s
tare at him in the reflection of the mirrors. “What about?”

He shrugs,
but I know it’s something he’s trying to avoid. “We’ll talk later. It’s nothing to worry about.”

The elevator travels down past the other floors with a whirl. I look down
, not wanting to meet his gaze.

“Is this Cabe guy your boyfriend?”

“No, Dad,” I say quickly. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and turn away. I’m so pale and sickly looking. “He’s just a friend.”

He shakes his head but smiles
. “Friends don’t buy you fifty pink roses.”

I roll my eyes. “This friend does.”

We spend the car ride home in near silence. Something makes my skin prickle when we pull up in our driveway, but I’m not sure why it’s reacting like that. I look up at the house but feel nothing.

“Home sweet home,” he says
, gathering my belongings out of the trunk.

I try to smile but it doesn’t quite work. I see him frown
before I lower my head and follow him up the path and into the house.

“It’s good to have you home
, Rose.”

I look around. Something doesn’t feel right. I have a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach and I don’t know why. My eyes trail over the walls, the floor
, and then up the stairs, but I can’t figure out what it is.

“
Do you want to have a cup of tea?” he suggests.

I nod
and sit at the table in the kitchen, while he moves around the room as if he’s never been in it before. He opens several cabinets before he finds the one with the mugs in it and two drawers before he finds the teaspoons. He finally walks over with two mugs of tea sloshing about and places them down heavily onto the table.

“Let’s talk then
, Dad,” I sigh a little impatiently, “because something is clearly bothering you.”

He huffs
and looks at me. “This isn’t going to be easy.”

I half laugh. “It’ll be easier if you just spit it out.”

He rubs his chin and closes his eyes. “The police want to speak to you.”

I nod. I figured they’d eventually want to hear my side of the story regarding the car accident.
“When?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Okay,” I say.

“But it’s not about what you think it’s about.”

I sip my tea and make a face at the disgusting taste. “It’s not about the accident?”

“Sort of,
I mean, yes. Actually, no.”

“Well
, that’s not a confusing answer in the slightest.”

He smiles. “I see you didn’t damage the part of your brain that controls sarcasm.”

I laugh. “Apparently not.”

“Okay,” he says
, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. “You were hit by a car on the street around the corner.”

“What street?”

“South Laurel.”

The street sounds familiar. I try to reel back through my disjointed memory until it clicks into place. “That’s the street where I went to the party.”

He looks up and blinks at me. “The party on the Friday night before your accident?”

I nod.

“Is there any other reason why you would have been on that street?”

I think for a moment. We
haven’t lived in Cannon Beach that long so there shouldn’t be too many memories to sift through, but I find myself going over tons of conversations and lots of different faces. Suddenly I see myself in the park. I’m walking away. My head snaps up.

“Cabe lives there.”

He nods. “You knocked on the door of their house.”

I think for a moment. “When did I have the accident?”

“Saturday afternoon, darling.”

I shake my head. “I’m sorry. If you’re asking me why I was there
, then I don’t know.”

He reaches out and puts his hand over mine. “I don’t know why you were k
nocking on his door, but I do know why you were out in the streets bare foot and dressed in your night clothes.”

I stare at our hands and feel him shaking. “W
hy?” I breathe. My voice is barely a whisper. I don’t like this. I don’t like feeling as though everyone knows something that I don’t. I want my memory back. I want to know what happened.

“You ran out of the house like that.”

I nod. He’s already told me that. “Because?”

He squeezes my hand tighter. “You were running away from me.”

I sniff and pull my hand away to wrap it around my mug. The temperature in the room has suddenly dropped. “Why was I running away?”

He starts to cry. I sit there and watch the tears seep out of the corner of his eye
s and don’t know what to do. He’s done something. I can tell by the way he’s acting that he’s done something. I wouldn’t have run away from my Dad for nothing.

“We
had a fight, Rose. You came down the stairs, you stood in the hallway looking out the front window while I was in the kitchen, and you shouted at me.”

My head hurts. The pain throbs at the front of my head
, making me pinch the skin at the top of my nose together. “Why was I shouting? Why are you being so evasive? Just tell me. Please.”

“You found your Mother’s diary.”

I stiffen as the memory of the little, red book slides easily into place. I remember finding it. I remember Gina. Oh God. My Mother is the ghost that’s been following me for years. The force of what happened at Charlotte’s house crashes into me so hard that it almost knocks me off my chair. I can’t breathe. I stand up quickly but see the black dots floating in front of my eyes and sit back down. I can hear myself panting and feel the panic spread across my face like butter over hot toast.

“Rose,
are you okay?” He shakes his head. “I knew I shouldn’t have done this so soon. It’s too much. Just pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“No,” I huff
. “Just tell me. I need to know…now.”

“You’re not going to like what I’m about to tell you
, but I feel I need to be honest with you. This isn’t why I’ve sat down to talk to you. It’s just my way of trying to understand what’s happened to you.”

“Fine, I understand.” I’m getting impatient now. It feels like an itch I just
can’t satisfy by scratching it.

He shakes his head
again. “You can’t run this time, Rose. Just remember that I need you to stay because I need to know what you’re going to tell the police.”

“What did you do?” I breathe.

He sucks in a quick breath and leans back in his chair. “In the diary, you read about how your Mother had found out that I was having an affair.”

I feel like I’ve been punched. I feel my mouth drop open but I know he’s right. This isn’t the first time I’ve heard this. All the air disappears from my lungs in one quick swoop. I feel light
-headed and I have the urge to stand and run but I can’t. Even if I wanted to, I don’t think my legs have the energy to carry me.

“I didn’t know she knew
, Rose. I never once thought she even suspected, never mind knew. I’ve been raked with guilt ever since you came down those stairs and told me. Now I feel bad knowing your Mother died knowing what I’d done to her, and I already felt bad because
I
knew what I had done to her. I also feel terrible because you found out, and you confronting me caused you to run from here and look what happened to you.”

I gulp. I can’t speak. There’s something stuck in my throat
, leaving a disgusting taste in there. I pick up my mug again and watch my Father’s face drop when his eyes fall on to my shaking hands.“I needed to be honest with you, Rose. No more secrets.”

I put my mug back down and stare at him. He’s not the man I thought he was. I can tell by the look in his eyes that he knows I think that.

“Go on,” I encourage, remembering that there was another point to all of this.

“The police have told me that
Mrs. Evans has said in her statement that she answered the door, and apart from you being soaking wet and cold, you were already black and blue. Someone had already hurt your face before the car did. I want to know who that person was.”

I shake my head. I remember Cabe and my Father talking in the hospital one day when I was half asleep. I didn’t a
nd still don’t know what they were talking about. “I don’t know.”

“Is it Cabe?”
he asks.

I look up and blink at him.
“Of course not.”

“How can you be sure if you don’t remember?”

I shake my head. “No, Dad. It wasn’t Cabe.”

“How can you be sure?” he asks again. “I’m not going to do anything to him
, Rose. I just want to know the truth.”

“He didn’t hurt me.”

“Then who did? Did Cabe drop you off right outside the house? Did he make sure you had walked through the door before he drove off? Did someone approach you before you got to the door?”

I think about Hallie. She’s hurt me before. Did she do it that night too? I can’t be sure. It’s like as soon
as I stepped out of Cabe’s car, my brain stopped storing anything. I feel a hot tear slip down my cheek. “Dad, stop.”

“Was it another boy? Are you being bullied again at school?”

“No, Dad.”

“Rose, talk to me
goddamn it!” He slams his hand down flat on the table, making me jump. “You don’t talk to me anymore. It’s like you’re a stranger. You’re my daughter, for Christ’s sake. Tell me who did this to you. Please.”

I stand up far too quickly for my brain to catch up. The dizziness makes me sway on my feet, but I remain standing. I spre
ad my hands on the table and yell into my Dad’s face as I say, “I don’t remember. I can’t remember, Dad. In case there is something wrong with your brain too, can I remind you that I’ve been in a coma and the doctors said memory loss was a side effect? Do you think I like not being able to remember? Do you think I like sitting here wondering what else I’ve forgotten?”

Shock registers on his face but I don’t care. I push away from the table and crawl up the stairs. I don’t even bother standing again when I get to the top and crawl all the way into my bedroom. I’m under the covers, the tears drying cold on my cheeks
, when I hear my door open.

My Father rushes to the bed and gathers me up in his arms. “I’m so sorry
, Rose. All that I seem to be doing is apologizing to you lately. I just don’t want anyone hurting my little girl. I was angry, but not at you. I’m so sorry.”

I don’t have the energy to feel sorry for him. “You had an affair.”

“Yes,” he sniffs. “I’ll never forgive myself.”

“How could you?”

He shakes his head. “Life gets complicated sometimes, Rose, but I loved your Mother. I honestly did. I was just an idiot that made some stupid mistakes.” He pulls me further into him and rocks as we both cry into each other until I fall asleep in his arms.

“Thanks Mum,” I say. “See you later.”