The Lighthouse Chapter 27

Chapter TWENTY-SEVEN:

AJ folded her long legs underneath her, her stomach full of buttery lobster and the fattening cole slaw Robin had made. She’d always been good in the kitchen, and AJ couldn’t remember a time the girl had ever burned her cookies in all the times they’d made them to bring to the lighthouse.

AJ had been helpless in the kitchen, and when they’d finally entered their senior year, she’d started stopping at the grocer to buy cookies before going to the lighthouse. So much had changed that year, but not her friendship with these four women.

“Thanks for dinner, Duke,” she said as the man bent over and kissed his wife. AJ had never really wanted to be Robin until that moment. She didn’t want to live on this island. She didn’t want to run along the beach—she’d done that plenty of times. She didn’t want to be responsible for knowing where every little item her family owned was.

But she did want a man who adored her as obviously as Duke adored Robin.

“Yeah,” he said, smiling at AJ. “Thanks for coming, all of you.” He straightened and smiled around at everyone before looking back at Robin. “I’m taking the kids to the movies.”

“Dad, I want to do laser tag,” Mandie said, a hopeful look on her face, and AJ couldn’t help wondering what a daughter of hers would look like. She’d never know, because she was too old to have a baby now. Nathan didn’t want children—at least not more than the three he had with three other women.

“It’s all in the same place,” Duke said without looking at her. “Alice, is it okay if your kids come with us?”

“Of course.” Alice probably never said things like, “Yeah,” or “yes.” She wore clothes that cost as much as AJ’s rent every month, and AJ hadn’t seen a hair out of place since she’d arrived, though they’d worked some long hours in the lighthouse, going through dusty, old files. But Alice had always been the picture of poise and beauty, and AJ thought she could learn something from her that would help her while she spoke to the camera.

Aaron leaned down and kissed Eloise’s forehead. “I’m going to take my girls with them. Okay?”

“Sure,” she said, setting her can of diet cola on the coffee table in front of her. “I’ll walk you out.” She possessed a glow, and AJ wondered if she’d ever shone like that around Nathan. If she had, it had been a long, long time.

Duke grabbed his keys and followed Aaron and the kids down the hall to the garage exit. AJ settled into the couch, warm and full and comfortable. How long had she felt like this? She couldn’t remember the last time, because her apartment didn’t have plush, comfortable furniture like this couch. Nathan liked modern, and all AJ knew about modern was that it wasn’t worth sitting on.

“Oh,” Alice said, jumping up from the couch and almost knocking into the table. She held a cup of coffee, and not a single drop of it spilled while she hurried down the hall too.

“Where’s she going?” Robin asked.

Neither Kelli nor AJ answered, because Alice was as unpredictable as she was beautiful. She pulled something from her purse and brought it back into the living room while AJ let her eyes close.

She was very good at pretending, as she’d been doing it for years. Decades. When she didn’t feel confident behind the news desk, she faked it. When she broke out because of stress or the hormonal issues she’d had, she pretended like she didn’t think about the acne during the interview.

There was always time to scrutinize everything she said and did later. In the moment, she pretended like everything was perfect and wonderful. That she was perfect and wonderful.

But when she got back to the dressing room or to the safety of her apartment, she could take off all the makeup, and unfurl the scarves that hid the unsightly scar on her neck, and go a couple of days without showering to make her hair straight, silky, and shiny.

Something bubbled in her stomach, and she wasn’t sure how long Robin would let her go without asking for a report about where she and Kelli had been and what they’d been doing.

“Alice,” Robin said, a measure of chastisement in her voice. “You don’t owe me any money.”

AJ opened her eyes to find Robin holding an envelope and peering down into it and then up at Alice.

“Yes, we do,” Eloise said, returning to the living room.

She and Alice sat in unison, and Alice added, “We don’t expect you to pay for everything, Robin. You make a hot breakfast in the morning, for crying out loud.”

Robin still wore a look of doubt, but she closed the envelope and nodded. “Well, thank you. It will help with the lobster feast we had tonight.”

“Which was amazing,” Kelli said, lifting her own can of soda to her lips.

“It really was,” AJ added. She cursed herself for speaking when her comment drew Alice’s and Robin’s attention. “What?” she asked.

“I think—if you’re comfortable,” Alice said, exchanging a glance with Robin. “You should tell us why you didn’t want to come to the funeral.”

AJ’s stomach flipped and shrunk, making all that she’d eaten way too much. She shot a look at Kelli, who just nodded quietly.

So not fair, AJ thought. Kelli hadn’t told anyone about the house on Seabreeze Shore, though if they searched their memories hard enough, they’d probably all remember where Kelli grew up.

“It’s the last secret,” Robin said. “And I think we need to know them all, so we can find some closure.” She sounded so reasonable, but AJ was certain that if she was the one harboring the secret, she wouldn’t think that.

“We all love you, AJ,” Alice said. “No matter what.”

AJ shifted on the couch, drawing her knees to her chest, almost like a shield between her and the others. The problem was, she had no shield against her thoughts. When she focused on work, she didn’t have to think about Five Island Cove.

All of her siblings had moved from the cove fifteen years ago, and AJ didn’t speak much to her father, though he still lived here. She really had no reason to come back to this little group of islands—except for the women in the room with her. She thought she’d like to spend more time with them, as she didn’t have very many friends in Atlanta, at least not female friends.

She wanted to keep this renewed friendship going, and she could trust them with this. After drawing in a deep breath, she said, “Joel…was a cruel taskmaster. Everyone loved him as a coach, but he pushed me harder than everyone.” Her voice grew in strength, and she stared at a spot on the floor just past the coffee table. Perhaps if she didn’t look at anyone, the story would just flow from her.

“Which is fine. I was beat up in college too.”

“Beat up?” Robin asked. “Like, he physically beat you up?”

“No,” AJ said, remembering how there were never any physical marks. Only complete mental exhaustion, crippling self-doubt, and anxiety that she’d never be good enough for Joel. “Just mental, verbal, that kind of thing. One of the last things he said to me was how surprised he was that I’d gotten my scholarship to the University of Miami.” She shook her head. “But that’s way at the end of the story.”

No one said anything, and AJ hated the silence. She’d rather they fire questions at her than just wait for her patiently to explain.

She just needed to blurt it out. Rip it off like a bandage. AJ didn’t want to cry, but she knew she would, and she hated the hot-eyed feeling of tears. Her chest hurt, and she struggled to breathe against it.

“He made a pass at Amelia,” she finally said, her voice loud and echoing in the silence. AJ looked nervously at Robin, then Kelli, and then Alice. She could see her fair-haired sister when she looked at Kelli, and AJ could not even imagine what might have happened had she not shown up early to pick up her younger sister from soccer practice.

“You’re kidding,” Alice said, her voice made of air. Her eyes had widened, and she held her coffee cup very, very still.

“I’m not,” AJ said. “He had her pressed up against that crappy truck he used to drive, and he had his hands all over her.” AJ shoved against the images in her mind. “I lost it. I honked my horn—I was driving into the parking lot when I saw them. I nearly crashed my dad’s car, trying to get out.” She could see it all again, and she let her voice trail into the stunned tension now filling the room.

She couldn’t tell any more of the story, mostly because she’d gone blank after springing from the car and running toward Amelia and Joel. She’d been so angry. She’d never been that angry before or since, and she’d simply lost those memories, as if someone had gone into her mind while she slept and scrubbed them out with a black marker.

“When did this happen?” Eloise asked.

AJ swung her head toward Eloise, who sat right beside her on the couch, feeling like she was underwater and couldn’t move as fast as she’d like. “Almost the end of senior year,” she said. “I got Amy out of there, and I told my dad. He moved her to a different soccer club after that, one that cost a lot more and involved a lot more travel. But at least Amelia wouldn’t be dealing with Joel again.”

Robin started to cry, and AJ teared up too. That annoying, hot sting in her eyes she hated so much. She pulled every lace inside her as tight as she could, and she started reciting the University of Miami fight song to give herself something to focus on. The tears dried right up as Alice got up from the other end of the couch and went to comfort Robin in the armchair.

AJ watched them as if from behind a sheet of waxed paper. She wanted to cry and mourn over the fact that Joel Shields had turned out to be someone quite different than she’d known. But AJ had already done her crying. She already knew what kind of man Joel Shields was.

And she still didn’t know if she could go to the funeral and hear glowing, kind things said about him. She also couldn’t tell Robin that right now, as the woman was desperate to have them all there to support Kristen.

Right then, in that moment, from behind the filmy drape that separated her from everyone else, AJ knew she’d put aside her feelings for Joel and go to support the woman who had always been there for her. She’d seen Nathan choose himself and his interests over everyone and everything else for years now, and she didn’t want to be that kind of person.

She got up too, broke through the waxed paper, and went to kneel in front of Robin. She put her hands on Robin’s knees, and she looked up into her friend’s teary face. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Alice said, patting AJ’s shoulder.

“I just can’t believe it,” Eloise said. “How did he hide all of this so well?”

“They’re really isolated up there at that lighthouse,” Kelli said. “He always had a smile for everyone. Why would anyone suspect anything?”

“Secrets are easy to keep when your nearest neighbor is a mile away,” Alice said. “Sometimes even when they’re right next door.”

AJ looked up at Alice, because she sounded like she spoke from experience. “True,” AJ said. “Do you think we need to tell Kristen?”

“No,” Robin said quickly. “She doesn’t need to know this. Maybe I’ll tell her in a few months or something, if it feels right.”

AJ stood up, her hips starting to ache. She hadn’t been on a competitive field for years, and while she still worked out most days, she had to stretch for as long before and after now that she’d reached her mid-forties.

Robin got up too, and she latched onto AJ, hugging her tight. “You’re an amazing person,” she whispered, and AJ closed her eyes and let the words wash over her, believing them for maybe the first time. She pulled back and leaned her forehead against Robin’s. “If that were true, you’d think I could get Nathan to marry me.”

“He’s not the right guy for you,” Robin said.

“I agree,” Kelli said, though AJ wasn’t even sure how she’d heard from all the way across the room. “AJ, I’ve told you that a dozen times. If he was the right one, he’d want you to be his instantly.”

AJ nodded as she backed away from Robin, sliding her hands down the front of her joggers. “I know. I’m going to do something about it.” She returned to her corner of the couch, where Eloise reached over and took her hand, her smile soft and timid. AJ felt her phone against her stomach, and she wished it had vibrated or rang and had Nathan’s name on the screen even once while she’d been in the cove. But it hadn’t.

“All right.” Robin took the paper towel from Alice and wiped her face. “Kelli, how are you? What can we do for you?”

AJ hugged her knees to herself and looked at Kelli. She deserved the very best in life, and it seemed so unfair to AJ that she didn’t have it all. She put on a brave face, though, and AJ would’ve never known about her anxiety and marital problems if she hadn’t spent a couple of days with her, sitting on the back porch, watching the newly budded leaves on the trees sway in the breeze.

The backyard at the house had a long trail with dozens of stairs that led down to a beach where AJ would spend almost all of her time if she lived in the house above it.

“I’m okay,” she said. “I talked to Julian, and we’re going to take a short vacation when I get home. His mother is going to keep Parker.” Kelli took a deep breath, and AJ saw what it cost her to leave her son behind. They’d talked a lot about it at the house, and AJ had told her she deserved to be Kelli Thompson too, not just “Parker’s mom.”

Kelli had agreed. She wanted to be both, and she knew she needed to take care of herself in order to be the best mom to Parker she could be.

“That’s great,” Alice said, smiling at Kelli. She switched her gaze to Robin. “Now, do you have any rosé? I think we could all use some alcohol.”

Robin blinked at her, and then trilled out a laugh. “I don’t keep wine in the house, but let’s go out and get a drink at the Island Seasons.”

“Ooh, do they still have that long bar made out of abalone shells?” Eloise asked, and AJ watched her face light up.

She could admit the night would get much better with something fruity and full of vodka in front of her, and she said, “If we go, I’m not changing out of my joggers.”

“I have the perfect pair of pumps to wear with those,” Alice said, heading for the stairs. “I’ll be right back.”

“Alice,” AJ said, but the woman was fast for her age. “I’m not going to wear heels.” She looked around at the others. “I already tower over all of you.”

“Oh, wear them,” Kelli said, standing and extending her hand to help AJ off the couch. “Isn’t that what you told me? Own what you have and who you are?”

AJ had said that, but she didn’t appreciate it being thrown back in her face. Though Kelli never really did throw any of her words, so AJ could only smile at her as she stood. “Fine,” she said. “But don’t complain when I’m literally a foot taller than you.”

Alice came back downstairs carrying a beautiful pair of matte black heels. “Here you go.”

AJ took the heels, noting the pristine condition of them. “When were you going to wear these?” She glanced up at Alice, a giggle gathering in the back of her throat.

“You never know,” Alice said, shaking her shoulder-length hair to fluff it up. “You can never go wrong with a pair of black pumps.”

“These are heels,” AJ said, shaking them at her.

“No,” Alice said, squaring her shoulders. “A pair of black pumps can make any outfit extra-special. Put them on. You’ll see.”

AJ put the shoes on the ground and stepped into them, gaining two inches and expecting the familiar pinch that came with every pair of heels she’d ever worn. But this time, it didn’t come. “Wow,” she said, gazing down at her feet. “These are amazing.”

Alice beamed at her, a hint of self-righteousness in her eyes. “See? There’s a difference between pumps and heels.”

“Yeah,” Eloise said, shrugging into her jacket. “Two thousand dollars.”

That elicited a moment of silence and then a roar of laughter from everyone in the room, including Alice. When they quieted, AJ said, “Who’s driving? I’d like to drink tonight.”

“Me too,” Alice said.

“I don’t drink much,” Robin said. “I’ll drive and be the designated mother.” She pointed at Alice. “But I need a verbal commitment that you’ll stop when I say stop. We have a full day tomorrow.”

“Yes, Mother,” Alice said in a hoity-toity voice before she strode toward the garage, a pair of beautiful wedges strapped to her feet.

AJ grinned at Robin. “Deal, Robin.” She grabbed onto her and hugged her, whispering, “Thank you for everything.” She wanted to say more, like how wonderful she was, how kind, how accommodating, what a great example. But Robin got the message, AJ was sure.

She hoped Robin would let her have at least three drinks tonight, because she had to face Kristen again tomorrow, and then the funeral the morning after that. She could survive.

She hoped she could survive.