The Things We Knew (26 page)

“Well, I believe you.” She met his eyes and shook her head. “You're one of the good guys, Nicholas Cooper. I've always known that.”

“Thank you.” He stared at her for a long moment that made her heart beat a little faster. “Lynnie . . . I'm falling in love with you,” he whispered.

Tears stung as she allowed the words to wind their way into her heart.

“Is that okay with you?”

Lynette nodded and lost herself in his smile. The moment his lips came down on hers, all other thoughts melted away. Lynette slid her arms around his neck, and allowed herself the luxury of a few moments of absolute contentment in his arms.

Nick stepped back first. “Everything will work out, Lynnie.”

Lynette let out a tired sigh. “When I'm with you, I actually believe that.”

He kissed the tip of her nose and pulled her against him. “Good. Because I'm not going anywhere.”

Lynette leaned against the rise and fall of his chest as they watched the night sky in silence. The moon threw shadows around them and waves crashed against the rocks as they did every night. But this was no ordinary night.

Nick Cooper, the boy she'd loved for most of her life, actually loved her back. The astounding thought overrode doubt and fear and any nightmares that still dared to haunt her dreams.

Whatever came next, she'd survive it.

Because if Nick loved her . . .

That changed everything.

L
ynette tidied up the art studio Saturday evening. She'd take her latest painting to Evy Monday morning before work. Didn't want to look at the others she'd stacked in the corner and covered with a sheet. As long as nobody else ever saw them, she could just pretend it hadn't happened.

If it was true, if that last scene she'd painted was the memory that had eluded her all these years . . . She shivered.

Enough. Hopefully she'd sleep tonight and try to forget about it. She didn't have a clue what time it was now, but the heaviness of her lids said it had to be late. The predicted storm had rolled in about an hour ago. Rain pelted the windows and wind howled around the house.

Gray and Nick spent all day on the water, grilled steaks, and then passed out watching a movie. She presumed they were still where she'd left them after dinner.

The sound of yelling floated up the stairs. Had to be the television.

Lynette lowered into the rocker, too tired to get to her own room. Summer was slipping by so fast. Much as she wanted to savor having everyone home, dark shadows were crowding out her joy. Her siblings all carried a different kind of pain. While she longed to share her faith—and encourage them in their own faith—doubt
stopped her. How could she talk to them about putting their faith in God when she was having difficulty doing it herself?

Sleepless nights were starting to take a toll.

She closed her eyes and gave up fighting the memories.

Lynette huddled in bed and waited for the noise to die down. Her parents were home from the party—she'd heard them come in a while ago—but they'd stayed down in the kitchen. The yelling stopped. A glass crashed to the floor. A few moments later the house had grown silent, so she pulled on her robe and slippers and crept downstairs.

Mom was in the kitchen, curled in the corner of the banquet. Her hair was swept high on her head, thick blond curls falling around her face. She wore the bright green silky dress with the Chinese pattern that Lynette loved.

“Mom?”

Her face was redder than normal, her eyes a little puffy. Lynette bit her lip and grabbed the bottle on the table beside her as she walked past. Went to the kitchen sink and tipped what was left down the drain.

“How dare you!” Her mother scrambled to her feet, slipped, and fell. Slowly she crept toward her on her hands and knees, an odd smile perched on her lips. “Why'd you do that, baby?” She struggled to stand and lurched forward. They'd gone over to the Coopers for dinner. Lynette stayed home, went to bed at her regular time, and fell into a deep sleep. Until they'd woken her with all the yelling and throwing stuff.

“You're drunk, Mom. You don't need any more.” The stink of the rum wound around her, shot up her nose, and made her eyes sting.

“You don't know what drunk is,” Mom slurred, trying to walk in her high heels. “You're only eleven. Unless of course you've been having parties of your own with those wild boys.”

Lynette shook her head. “No. I . . . don't do that.” The last time Gray had come home for the weekend, he and Nick got into Dad's whiskey. She doubted her brother could sit comfortably yet.

“That's good, darling.” The fire in Mom's eyes dimmed and Lynette's pulse slowed.

“Where's Daddy?”

Mom pulled pins from her hair and shook out her long tresses. She gave a nervous laugh. “He went to bed. Got in one of those moods.”

So he was drunker than she was.

Lynette swiped a hand across her nose. “You should go to bed too.”

“I will. I just . . .” Mom sighed and met Lynette's eyes. “Nick's home for the weekend.”

“So?” She hated the way her heart did that weird flutter at the thought of Nick Cooper. He was just a dumb boy.

“I don't think he likes being away at school very much.” Mom breathed out a sigh that said she just didn't understand. Lynette was used to hearing it these days. “I can't imagine why. This is only their first year. At least Gray likes it.”

“Gray hates it.” He'd told her so his last visit home.

“Nonsense, darling.” She laughed. “Gray would have told me if he was unhappy.”

Lynette shuffled her feet and stared at her fuzzy pink slippers. The only reason her brother didn't say anything to Mom and Dad was because he thought being there was better than being here.

Some days Lynette had to agree.

“They're all gone. All my babies, up and gone.” Mom played with her hair, sounding sad. Ryan started boarding school the year before, and this year Gray went. “All except you, Lynnie. You don't want to go away to school, do you?”

“I don't know.” She shrugged, not really sure what the right answer was. “Do you want me to?”

“Of course I don't. I'm sorry I yelled at you.” Mom's eyes filled
with tears. “You were right to throw that away. I've had enough. I just . . . Sometimes it makes things better, you know?”

Lynette didn't know. Didn't ever want to know. “Sure, Mom.”

When had Mom changed? Lynette missed the way things used to be. The way she could cuddle up in bed with her late at night or early in the morning, sharing all her secrets and dreams. Mom had been more like a best friend, someone she couldn't wait to spend time with. Now . . . she was somebody else. Someplace else.

The wind whined and rattled the roof of the house and shook the windows. Lightning slashed across the sky before a rumble of thunder. They both jumped.

Then the lights went out.

“Well, that's just wonderful. Get the candles, Lynnie.” Laughter trembled on her mother's tongue. She was close enough to touch, close enough for Lynette to put her arms around, hug her tight, and tell her it was all going to be okay.

But on nights like these, Lynette didn't know if it was.

The slamming of the front door jolted her out of the past. Lynette frowned and crossed the room. Nick wouldn't be so careless. He knew her father was sleeping. She locked the studio door and ran down the stairs. And then she heard it. Almost as though she'd conjured up the sounds from her imagination.

Crying and yelling.

Gray's voice getting louder, then Nick joining in.

Lynette ran downstairs and made it to the doors of the living room just as Nick came through them. “What's going on?”

“Lynnie. We thought you'd gone to bed.” Nick pulled her into a brief hug. “It's Liz. I'll be right back.”

“Liz?” Lynette went into the room, took one look at her sister, and clapped a hand to her mouth. “What happened?”

Liz's face was bruised, one eye completely closed, her lip cut and bleeding. Lynette tried not to stare. Gray flung open the front door, letting the dogs out. Their barking echoed back through the house and Liz gave a low moan. Gray called them in and shut the door, bolted both locks, and swore. Loudly.

“Gray—” Lynette began, but the look on her brother's face convinced her his outburst was warranted.

“He didn't follow me. I told you.” Liz could barely talk through her swollen lips. Lynette tried to process what was happening, unable to move. Nick came back with a washcloth.

“Here's some ice. Go sit down.” He took Liz by the arm and led her back into the living room. Lynette sat next to her sister while Nick applied the cloth to Liz's swollen face.

“Who did this to you?” She must have been mugged or attacked, or worse.

“Who do you think?” Gray spat the words, pacing the room like a lion waiting for its kill. “I told you, Liz, the dude's insane. But you don't listen to me. Are you happy now?”

“Gray.” Nick's voice held a clear warning that Gray had the good sense to heed.

“Your boyfriend did this?” Lynette took Liz's hand in hers, but Liz pulled away and wouldn't look at her.

“He was drunk,” she whispered. “He . . . loves me.”

“Do not make excuses for him!” Gray thundered. He stormed toward them, eyes blazing. “Look at yourself, Elizabeth! Is this what you call love? If it is, you've got a pretty warped idea of the concept.”

“Like you would know?” Her sister wiped her eyes. “I don't need this. I never should have come back here.” Liz pushed off the couch, stalked out of the room, and a minute later an upstairs door slammed.

Lynette stared at Nick and Gray. “What do we do now?”

“Well, she won't let us call the cops. So I say we wait until the goon shows his face and then we crack his skull wide open.”

“Gray, please.” Lynette shuddered at her brother's acrid tone. “I meant about Liz. Is she going to be all right?”

Gray inhaled and rocked on his bare feet. “When is Liz ever not all right?”

“Apparently now.” Lynette stood, headed for the door. “I'll go talk to her.”

She went to the kitchen first and made tea. After fixing Liz a mug, Lynette went upstairs and knocked softly on her sister's bedroom door.

“Liz?”

“What do you want?” Liz stretched out on her bed, one arm flung across her face. Diggory lay across the end of the bed, Jasper on the floor. They watched Lynette through mournful eyes.

“I made you tea. Milk, no sugar.” She put the peace offering on the bedside table and glanced around the bare room. The light beige walls blended perfectly with green curtains that had never been removed. A comfortable recliner sat in one corner, but the walls were void of paintings and photographs, the room unused, untouched really, for years.

Only the double bed, mahogany dresser, and the desk by the window remained, a lone Tiffany lamp to keep it company. Liz had spent hours holed away up here, doing homework and studying for her SATs. Anything less than a 4.0 average was not acceptable. She was sent to boarding school at fourteen on the recommendation of the local school's principal who felt Liz needed a more challenging environment.

She'd only returned to them for holidays. And probably only because she had to.

The summer before she went off to Harvard, Liz commandeered Lynette to come help clean out her room. She couldn't remember where they'd put the boxes containing Liz's childhood. Probably up in the attic with all the other stuff Mom could never throw away. By the time they finished, it was almost as though her
sister had never lived here. She'd often wondered if that had been Liz's intention.

Lynette spotted the ratty-looking teddy bear, holding pride of place in the middle of Liz's dresser. She'd put him back in here when she heard Liz was coming home. A smile touched her lips as she picked up the only remnant of Elizabeth Carlisle's former life.

Lynette hovered by the door and watched as Liz and Mom packed the last of her things into a big green metal trunk. Liz was leaving for boarding school that afternoon. And her sister was actually happy about it.

Mom, hair tied in a messy ponytail, wiped her hands down her madras capris and gave a long sigh. “Are you sure this is what you want, Elizabeth?”