“There’s something more,” she admitted finally.
Stride felt a sense of uneasiness. He knew without Tish saying anything that whatever she had to share with him involved Cindy. All along, there had been a missing piece. A secret. He wasn’t sure anymore that he wanted to know what it was.
“I have something for you,” Tish told him. “I feel bad that it took me so long to give it to you, but I hope you’ll understand when I explain.”
She slipped an envelope out of her purse and pushed it across the table to Stride. He saw the words written on the outside in black ink. For Jonny. He had no trouble recognizing the tight, precise handwriting he had known for years.
“Cindy gave this to me the last time we were together,” Tish said. “She told me if I ever came back here and decided to be up-front about my past, I should give this to you. I never opened it. I never read it.”
Stride didn’t pick up the envelope.
“Your past?” he asked.
“Yes. Before Cindy’s father died, he told her something about me. Something important. That’s why Cindy reached out to me. I didn’t think I ever wanted anyone else to know, but I guess the two of you deserve to know the truth.”
Stride waited.
“Cindy’s father knew about me and Laura,” Tish continued. “He overheard Laura on the phone, and he knew we were planning to run away together. He went berserk.”
“I knew William Starr,” Stride said. “The idea of his daughter being gay would have been horrifying to him.”
“It was worse than that,” Tish said. “It wasn’t just Laura being gay. It was me. It was the two of us being in love.”
“You?”
Tish slid something else from her purse. A fragile piece of newspaper. When she unfolded it carefully, Stride saw the headline. So did Serena, who caught Tish’s eye. Tish nodded at her, embarrassed.
“I didn’t lie to you, Serena, not really,” she said. “The robbery where my mother was killed had nothing to do with Laura’s death. Cindy found this clipping in her father’s Bible shortly before he died. He had kept it for years. She asked him why, and he finally told her the truth. He finally admitted the affair.” Tish shook her head with fierce bitterness. “That selfish, hypocritical son of a bitch. I hate him. Nothing will ever change that.”
“Your mother?” Serena guessed.
Tish nodded. Tears pooled on her eyelids and ran over to her cheeks. “She was the honorable one. More honorable than he ever deserved. She never told a soul. Not even when she was fired from her job at the store. Not even when she was drummed out of their church. She never admitted that he was the father.”
Stride closed his eyes. He had never liked William Starr. He didn’t like him now.
“All those years, he never acknowledged me,” Tish said. “Even when my mother died, he was too gutless to admit who I was. I’m glad he thought he was being punished by God for everything that happened.” She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. “Cindy told me, and I begged her to keep it between the two of us. Can you imagine what it did to me? I found out I had a sister. A half sister. I also found out that the great love of my life was something terrible. Something immoral. Me and Laura. I was in love with-”
Tish stopped. Her voice seized again.
“You didn’t know,” Serena murmured.
“No. We didn’t know. Even after Cindy told me, I tried to pretend to myself that it wasn’t true. I still loved Laura. I still ached for her. I wanted it to be the way I remembered it. I didn’t want to give up what we had.”
Tish fingered the note that lay in front of Stride.
“Cindy wanted me to tell you,” she said. “She hated the idea of keeping part of her life hidden from you, but I insisted. When she knew she was dying, she made me promise to come back here. She wanted me to do it for Laura, but I think she also wanted me not to be alone. She thought maybe I could find some kind of family here.”
Her eyes formed a question.
“You do have family here,” Stride said.
“Thank you. To both of you.” She stood up. “I really do need to go.”
“Don’t stay away forever, Tish.”
She came around the table and bent down to wrap her arms around Stride’s neck. She embraced him and whispered in his ear. “I keep part of her with me, even though I lost her.”
Stride didn’t say anything. Tish gave Serena a brief hug and then slung her purse over her shoulder. The wind mussed her hair, and she fixed it. She gave Stride a broken smile and left the way she had come. Stride followed her with his eyes until she was gone. From the back, she looked like Cindy again, walking away, leaving him.
Stride held the envelope in his hands and thought about letting it go and losing it in the wind. He didn’t need a message in a bottle washing ashore right now. He didn’t need a resurrection.
He and Serena sat together, not talking, as the evening grew darker around them. Most of the other tables were empty; it was too cold now to be outside. Out on the Point, beyond the lift bridge, white caps crested and lapped at the sand. The air smelled like fall.
After a space of silence, Serena got up and kissed his cheek and put her cool fingers on his bare arm. “I’m going to walk on the boardwalk for a while,” she told him.
Their eyes met, and he nodded. She left him there, and he was alone with Cindy.
Stride traced the sides of the envelope with his fingertips and wondered how long he could wait without opening it. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for Cindy to be alive again, even for a moment. Not when his grief was over. When he couldn’t hold back anymore, he used a knife from the table to slit the envelope at the top and slide out the single sheet of paper inside. It was ordinary typing paper, and when he unfolded it, he found a few handwritten lines inside.
Dear Jonny,
If you’re reading this letter, it means Tish finally told you the truth, and you know why I kept you in the dark for so long. It also means I lost the battle with cancer. I’m so sorry, my love, for leaving you earlier than we had planned.
Stride took a labored breath. His eyes burned, and the words blurred on the paper as he tried to read.
Not a day went by that I didn’t long to tell you about Tish, but it was never my secret to share. It was hers. My sister’s. And it was a secret born in too much blood and pain for anyone else to reveal. I hope you can forgive me.