“Billy is your real dad. You’re named after him,” she said to Johnny, wanting to hurt him for the constant teasing, hating him and loving him too. But mostly, she wanted to hurt her mother for lying to her. “You’re not my brother,” she spit. “And I hate you!”
Johnny put the jug of lake water down and turned to his mother. “What is she talking about?” he asked, his voice quavering.
“Why would you say such a thing?” Gram asked Caroline, but her words sounded false, and it was then that Caroline knew for sure that Gram had been in on it from the beginning. Somehow Gram’s betrayal was worse than her mother’s lies.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Dee Dee was sitting in the kitchen when Patricia woke and appeared from the back bedroom. She walked into the living room, running her hand over the back of the couch, touching the wicker rocking chair, smoothing out the old throw Dee Dee’s mom had knitted. She stopped in front of the mantel over the fireplace and picked up a wedding photo of Dee Dee’s parents. “What happened to your folks?” she asked.
“Dead,” Dee Dee said, sounding matter-of-fact. Her father’s health had gone downhill fast after Billy’s death. His heart hadn’t been able to take it. Her mother had followed him a few months later. Although a piece of all of them had died with Billy, her parents had taken it a step further and gone with him.
“I’m sorry,” Patricia said, and returned the wedding picture to the mantel. “I would’ve come back had I known. They were so good to me.” She walked into the kitchen and put her hand on Dee Dee’s shoulder. “You were all so good to me.”
To Dee Dee’s surprise, she didn’t push Patricia’s hand away. Instead she let her shoulders relax, finding the intimacy soothing. It had been such a long time since she had allowed someone to touch her in a caring, gentle way. Her ex, Neil, had deserted her only a few months before Chris had been born, and she hadn’t been close to anyone since, other than her son. She couldn’t think when the last time someone had wanted to touch her was, let alone spend time with her.
“You look so much like your brother. Did you know that?” Patricia asked, and sat across from her.
“I know.” She did look like her brother. Although where Billy was handsome—broad shoulders, lean, muscular build, strong chin—the attributes weren’t as flattering on a woman. Her masculine features made her look hard, and most men found her height, her strong arms and legs, intimidating.
“I’m sorry,” Patricia said of Billy. “I’m sorry about a lot of things.” Fresh tears left dirt tracks down her cheeks.
“Come on,” she said, and pulled Patricia up and led her to the bathroom. “Take a shower and clean up. We’ll talk when you get out.” She grabbed a clean towel and handed it to her.
Dee Dee waited in the kitchen, listening to the water run. She had already laid out a clean pair of shorts and a white T-shirt and set them on the bathroom sink. She lit a cigarette and thought about popping open a can of beer, but the shower stopped and she didn’t want to drink in front of Patricia. It was stupid, but in some ways, she felt as though she were babysitting her all over again, and a babysitter shouldn’t drink on the job.
Patricia returned to the kitchen wearing the clean clothes that were much too big for her. She rubbed her thin pale arms.
“Sit,” Dee Dee said. “Let me get you something to eat.” She pulled leftover egg salad from the refrigerator. If she had had food that was heavier, fattier, she would’ve made it instead. But she made do with what she had. It was what she did best.
When Patricia finished eating, she began braiding her hair. She kept her eyes away from Dee Dee’s when she said, “Tell me what happened to Billy.”
Dee Dee rubbed her brow. It had been so long since anyone asked to talk about Billy, years since anyone cared to listen, or at least to her version of the story. She told Patricia what she knew. He had been hanging out with friends under the steps of the Pavilion and later on the beach, apparently drinking. It had been late at night under a full moon. After his friends had gone home, Billy must’ve gone swimming alone. No one had seen him after that night. He was reported missing the next day. Five days later they found his body near the floating pier in the middle of the lake. She didn’t bring up the recent discovery of his missing bones found by the recovery team while they were searching for Patricia’s daughter. The fact that they had found sixteen-year-old bones and not her little girl’s body was far from comforting.
Patricia listened quietly, her brow furrowed. “It doesn’t make sense. He was good in the water. He knew the lake better than anyone.”
Dee Dee snorted. “It never made sense to me, either. Kevin said he was the last one to see Billy. That he had left him alone on the beach, thinking he was going home too. But I think Kevin is covering up for somebody. I think Jo was on the beach with Billy and she was the last one to see him alive. I think she has something to do with him drowning.”
Patricia shook her head. “I don’t think Jo would’ve hurt Billy. She loved him.”
“Maybe she did, maybe she didn’t. I don’t know and I don’t care. But what I do know is that she’s hiding something. She knows more about that night than she’s saying.”
“Was there an investigation?”
“They ruled it an accidental drowning even though he cracked his skull. And after lying on the bottom of the lake for five days, his body was torn apart by the snappers. They couldn’t find any evidence to prove otherwise.” Until they found the bones from his forearm, but again, it wasn’t the right time to share this information.
Patricia suddenly looked horrified.
Dee Dee realized the insensitivity of her comment, forgetting Patricia’s daughter hadn’t been found, and it was coming up on six days. “Pattie,” she said, and stopped. It was the harsh truth, and she wouldn’t apologize for it. Patricia needed to hear it, not only about Billy, but what to expect if there was anything left of her daughter to find. But she couldn’t bring herself to tell her that, and neither of them spoke for some time.
Patricia was the first to break the silence. “When did he drown?” she asked.
“You don’t know?”
“I only heard about it yesterday.”
“Jesus,” Dee Dee said, thinking after all this time. “July 1997,” she said.
She looked surprised. “But I was here that summer. How could I not have known about it?”
“It happened the same night your parents dragged you out of here. I was babysitting, and they stormed into the cabin, fighting. You left that morning, and I never heard from you again.”
“I remember,” she said. “It was awful. My parents fought so often that summer.” She covered her mouth and appeared to be thinking. After a few moments of silence she said, “And he drowned that same night?”
“Yes,” Dee Dee said.
Patricia disappeared inside her own thoughts once again. She shook her head. “No,” she said. “That’s not right. They weren’t on the beach.”
“What are you talking about?” Dee Dee clasped Patricia’s hand.
Patricia held on tight. “They’re lying.”
She looked into Patricia’s eyes. “What are you saying? Who is lying?”
“They are,” she said. “They weren’t on the beach. They were on the pier.”
“Who was on the pier?”
“I saw them.”
“Who?” Dee Dee asked. “Who did you see?”
“You know how you can see the pier when the moon is bright?” Patricia said.
“Yes.” It was true. You could see the floating pier clearly under the light of a full moon. “Who did you see on the pier that night?”
“Billy. He wasn’t on the beach.”
Dee Dee grabbed Patricia’s arms, wanting to shake her to get the answers out of her quicker. “Was anyone with him?”