Текст книги "Someone Else's Life"

Автор книги: Katie Dale

Соавторы: Katie Dale,Katie Dale
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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

look at him carefully, his clear eyes, his concern.

“Thank you,” say quietly.

“You’re welcome,” he says. “But

do think you

should talk to someone

professional.”

look at him. “A shrink?”

“No.” He smiles. “A genetic counselor, someone who

knows about all this stuff. They’ll be able to help you

decide whether or not to take the test—”

“But want to take the test!” cry. “I have to!”

“That’s fine,” Andy soothes. “But it’s the counselors

who do the testing. Okay?”

nod. “Okay.”

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“So in the next few days, you need to look up where

the nearest clinic is and—”

“Why not today?”

ask suddenly. “We’ll be in

Boston in half an hour—they’re bound to have one there.”

He smiles. “You don’t waste any time, do you?”

“Andy,”

say gravely. “I haven’t got any time to

waste.”

344

Rosie

The streets are swarming with busy pedestrians,

but despite the hustle and bustle, Boston’s quite different

from New York. There’s

more

civilized feel.

don’t

know if it’s the colonial architecture, with its tall columns

and grand façades, or the people themselves, but Boston

has quite

European feel,

sense of age and gravitas

compared to the hectic dazzle of New York.

Kitty leads me down cobbled street that could be

straight out of

Dickens novel, past several street

performers, to the edge of vast park.

“I’m starving!” she says suddenly, turning to me.

“Have you ever had clam chowder?”

“Clam what?” ask, bewildered.

“Chowder,” she laughs. “It’s like delicious creamy

soup. You’ll love it. Come on.”

Heels clacking quickly across the pavement, she

heads toward

very swanky-looking restaurant, and my

heart sinks. There’s

queue of smartly dressed people

outside—all suits and dresses.

stare miserably at my

scruffy jeans and trainers, wishing still had on the purple

dress. I’m going to stick out like sore thumb. If they even

let me in.

“Two chowders, please.”

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look up, surprised. Kitty’s not in the queue at all,

but instead is standing in front of

stripy street stall.

Steam billows as the vendor lifts the lid on big metal pot

and Kitty grins, handing me what looks like loaf of crusty

bread.

“I thought we were having soup?” ask, confused.

“It is soup!” Kitty laughs, lifting the top of my loaf straight off to reveal

creamy liquid inside. “It’s

sourdough bowl—delicious! Once you’ve finished your

chowder, you eat the bowl—it’s fantastic.” She beams.

“Don’t tell Janine, though—I’m not meant to have carbs.”

She grins, popping piece of bread into her mouth. “Come

on,” she says, hooking her arm through mine and leading

me into the park. “Let’s find somewhere to sit.”

346

Holly

stare up at the towering gray building, its

windows gleaming in the afternoon sun. This is it.

It was surprisingly easy to find—right there on

Google on Andy’s phone, and now right here on the street.

People walk straight past without

second glance, but

can’t take my eyes off it. This is the place where my future

gets decided.

Our future

“You okay?” Andy asks. “You know, you don’t have

to do this today. You can always come back another time,

when you’ve had chance to think about it properly.”

“No,” say, my voice surprisingly calm. “No, need

to do this now.”

only intended to make an appointment.

borrowed Andy’s phone—mine being smashed up at

home—and punched in the number, half expecting no

one to answer, or that I’d hang up if they did. Somehow,

though, asked for an appointment, and we were all set

with

date next week—until said was pregnant. The

woman on the other end went very quiet, asked me how

far along was, then put me on hold while tinny panpipe

played “Dancing Queen” in my ear for so long that

347

thought she’d forgotten me. Then she came back and said

counselor would see me now, today, if could come in?

So here am.

“Holly?” Andy asks, breaking my trance. “You

ready?”

take

deep breath, my knees quivering beneath

me.

Ready as I’ll ever be

The waiting room is busy and stinks of disinfectant.

sit down next to woman who looks like she’s desperate

for the bathroom—she keeps fidgeting, leaning forward,

then back, and looking all around her—making me even

more nervous. turn away, reaching for magazine, when

this other man starts pacing the room, waving his arms

around like he’s doing some sort of new age slow-motion

dance.

look around, beginning to notice twitches,

nervous tics, fidgeting, among the other people in the

room. This must be the waiting room for the psychiatric

ward too.

man catches me watching him and

look

quickly away, pretending to be engrossed in my fly fishing

magazine.

Suddenly Andy gasps beside me and look up as

drunk woman stumbles in, talking loudly and slurring her

words. The receptionist helps her to

chair and look

back at Andy, about to make comment about needing

stiff drink myself, but his face is ashen.

“What is it?” ask, following his gaze back to the

woman.

348

He swallows hard and shakes his head. “It’s just—

nothing.”

“What?” insist.

“She just …” Andy stares at his lap. “She just

reminded me bit of

someone.”

“Okay …” grin. “Someone’s been hanging around

too many bars …”

He looks at me, his eyes full of

what? Pity? He

looks away quickly and suddenly get it. Trudie He knew Trudie. That woman reminds him of her

look around the waiting area and my pulse

quickens.

Chorea,

speech

and

movement

impediments

Suddenly the words are embodied, alive,

their meaning so much more horrific in the flesh. She’s not

drunk and they’re not crazy. These are real people.

This is Huntington’s disease.

349

Rosie

We stroll through the park, past the barren trees

and lampposts, until we come to duck pond.

“Perfect!” Kitty announces, sitting down on damp-

looking bench.

eye her cream coat uncertainly. “Are you sure?”

“Best seat in the house, don’t you think?” She grins.

stare at her, this woman in her designer dress—her

carefully styled hair tangling in the breeze, Jimmy Choos

caked in mud—perched, knees up on

park bench,

drinking soup out of bread bowl, and smile. She’s like

totally different person. She tosses some crumbs to

quacking family of ducks, which fall over themselves as

they scrabble after the bread, and she laughs, beaming up

at me as sit down.

“God, don’t know what it is with you, Rosie, but

just suddenly feel …” She leans her head back, searching

for the right word. “Young suppose!” she laughs, hugging her knees. “That’s weird, isn’t it? You’d think meeting my

grown-up daughter would make me feel ancient—and it

does, in some ways,” she admits. “But being with you

makes me remember being your age, seeing all this for the

first time …” She sweeps her arm out to encompass the

350

park, the surrounding buildings, the statues. “It’s

glorious.” She sighs blissfully.

“It is beautiful,” say, taking

sip of chowder and

looking around, the creamy soup warm and salty in my

mouth. “There’s something so

peaceful about Boston,

like it’s been here forever.”

“There is, isn’t there?” She smiles thoughtfully.

“This city has such

sense of history. The Mayflower

landed just up the road at Plymouth. Boston itself is where

the first shots of the American Revolution rang out, as

well as being home of the first newspaper, the first

university …” She looks at me and laughs.

“Don’t look so surprised, Rosie.” She grins. “I’m not

actually complete airhead. used to love history when

was at school, it was like story time—all these amazing

tales and characters, and all of them true

more or less,

anyway.” She giggles. “I’ll never forget my old history

teacher: ‘Remember, children, the victors write the

history books!’ Kitty laughs. “She was bonkers. For some

reason she was crazy about the suffragettes, women’s lib

and all that. She had us make this mad sculpture out of coat hangers and clay and papier-mâché or something!

Oh, it was horrible. Hideous! But she loved it, insisted it be

installed in the playground as

reminder to us all. Of

what, I’m not exactly sure. think it was supposed to be

Emmeline Pankhurst or something, but it looked more

like giant yeti in tutu—”

“Betty the Yeti!” cry, and she looks at me, stunned.

“Yes,” she says slowly. “How did you …?”

351

“That was my school.” grin. “Maybridge Grange.”

“No!” she gasps. “You’re …” She stares at me,

gobsmacked. “You’re not Grangers girl?”

nod and she shrieks with laughter.

“No way!” she squeals, clutching my hands. “My

God! How is the old place? Tell me Belchers isn’t still

there, please!

nod, laughing, thinking of tiny wizened Miss

Bellchamber, dwarfed by her stacks of ancient history

books. “They kept trying to replace her, but she refuses to

retire!”

“God!” Kitty laughs, her eyes watering. “She’s an

institution! She must’ve been sixty-odd when I was there!

Tell me she doesn’t still run the choir too?”

“Oh, yes, berets and all.”

“The berets!” Kitty squeals. “Oh, God, they don’t still

make you wear those horrible orange monstrosities, do

they? Ugh! Hideous!”

“Not according to Miss Bellchamber.”

clear my

throat to imitate the old lady’s squeaky voice. ‘We should

be proud of our berets—the reason the Prince of Wales

spoke to Grangers girls when he visited Maybridge was

because they looked far smarter than any other school.’

“Bollocks!” Kitty shrieks, spilling her soup. “I was

there The poor prince couldn’t stop pissing himself

giggling at us!”

“I knew it!” laugh. “I wondered why he looked like

he was crying in the photos!”

352

Kitty nods, her eyes streaming. “It took him five

whole minutes to regain his composure, poor thing. He

was meant to be meeting the mayor, but he couldn’t keep

straight face! In the end his aide asked us to take them

off completely in case we set him off again!”

crease up in hysterics as Kitty giggles

uncontrollably, the rich chowder warming my insides.

“My God, Maybridge Grange.” Kitty wipes her eyes,

beaming at me. “Jeez, Rosie, I’m so sorry—I wouldn’t

inflict that place on my worst enemy, let alone my

daughter.” She smiles. “It’s

wonder you learned

anything. Don’t tell me you went on to Maybridge Sixth

Form College as well?”

“No,” say, straightening my napkin on my lap. “No,

was meant to, but Mum—”

glance at her quickly.

“Trudie, mean—she needed me.”

Kitty’s smile fades. “Because she had Huntington’s

disease?”

nod.

“So you missed your levels to look after her?”

nod. “I wanted to.”

“But it can’t have been easy,” she says gently.

shrug, picking at the edge of my sourdough roll,

watching the pieces crumble to the ground.

Kitty looks at me for moment, then stares at her

soup.

“It’s awful to watch someone you love slip away,”

she says softly. “My granddad died of cancer when was

little girl.” She smiles weakly. “I remember running up to

353

his bedside, not understanding why he looked so different,

why he’d stopped picking me up and playing with me. It

was like he wasn’t my granddad anymore.”

nod. “That was the worst part. The way she

changed …”

She nods sympathetically. “The disease affected her

mobility?”

“Not just that—it was her behavior too. Her moods,

her temper.”

She frowns. “She was violent?”

“Not really—she didn’t mean to be, she just got

angry, frustrated. It was the disease, not her.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Kitty squeezes my hand. “I can’t

imagine what you’ve been through

what you’ve given

up—”

“I didn’t mind,” insist. “She was my mum.”

She looks at me. “And all that time you thought it

might happen to you too? That you might inherit her

disease?”

nod, studying my chowder intently, my eyes

swimming.

Kitty puts her bowl on the bench and pulls me close.

“Oh, Rosie,” she whispers, kissing my hair. “Imagine how

different life would have been

should have been.”

My heart twists in knots as

grieve for my lost

mother—for all the years I’ve missed with the one I’ve

found.

“I’m so sorry,” Kitty sighs, stroking my hair as she

holds me tight. “I am so, so sorry.”

354

Holly

close my eyes. This is surreal.

nightmare

pinch myself, hoping I’ll wake up.

“Holly?” look up to see smiling woman in green

dress. “Would you like to follow me?”

She leads us down long hallway and into small

office that smells of oranges, then closes the door.

“Hi.” She shakes my hand. “I’m Charlotte Atkins. I’m

genetic counselor. That sounds technical, but it just

means I’m here to talk everything through with you.” She

turns to Andy. “And you’ve brought friend. Excellent.”

“Andy,” he says, shaking her hand awkwardly.

“So,” she says, sitting down and glancing at her

notes. “You’re thinking about testing for Huntington’s

disease?”

nod.

She looks at me, her voice gentle. “And understand

you’re pregnant?”

nod again. “About eight weeks.”

“Yes.” She nods, her eyes troubled as she scribbles

on her page. “Well, we’ll come back to that. So, have you

always known you were at risk?”

“No.”

shake my head. “No,

just found out. My

mom died—she had Huntington’s.”

355

“That must’ve been hard.” Charlotte frowns. “Were

you her caregiver?”

“No, actually I—I never met her, she …” hesitate,

glancing at Andy. “I was brought up by someone else.”

“You were adopted?”

look at her, then nod. Now is not the time—it’s

complicated enough.

Charlotte explains all about Huntington’s. Most of it

I’ve already heard from Rosie, but it’s good to hear it from

an expert—and from someone don’t despise.

She confirms that if have inherited Huntington’s

from Trudie, my symptoms will probably develop at

around the same age as hers did—not until my forties or

fifties—and that my baby has twenty-five percent risk of

inheriting, which would rise to fifty percent if

test

positive.

“Now, Holly.” Charlotte leans forward. “Is your

pregnancy the main reason you’re thinking of testing?”

nod miserably. “I mean, if I’m positive need to

consider …” trail off.

“And Andy, is this what you want too?” Charlotte

asks.

“Um

…,” he stammers.

“No—Andy’s just friend,” say, embarrassed.

“Right.” Charlotte smiles. “I see. Actually, that’s

better. You don’t need any pressure, Holly,” she tells me.

“I’m not here to tell you what to do, and nobody else

should either. This isn’t anyone’s decision but yours,

okay?”

356

nod, twirling my finger tightly in my hair.

“But if your pregnancy is your main concern, we can

perform prenatal test—to test the baby’s DNA directly.”

“You can test it before it’s born?”

ask

incredulously.

“Yes.” Charlotte nods. “Through CVS at ten to twelve

weeks or amniocentesis little later.”

“That’s what want,” tell her. “I want to know if

my baby will have the disease.”

“Okay,” she says. “But we do advise that you test

yourself first.”

“Why?” ask. “I don’t need to know about myself

right now—I need to know about the baby.”

“I understand,” Charlotte says calmly. “What you

need to appreciate is that with these procedures there is

risk—up to one percent—of miscarriage.”

close my eyes.

“Obviously, if you’re negative there’s no reason to

risk the pregnancy. And know you might not think so

now, but even if you yourself are positive, you might

decide you don’t want the prenatal test after all.”

sigh.

“Most importantly, you need to understand that if

the prenatal test comes back positive, then you won’t have

choice not to know your own fate. You’ll both definitely

develop Huntington’s disease.”

bite my lip. “I understand.”

“Holly,” Charlotte says quietly. “The only real

reason to do this—to take prenatal HD test—is if you’re

357

considering terminating your pregnancy if the result is

positive.”

She looks at me and

drop my gaze, her words

hanging heavily in the air between us.

“Is that something you’re prepared to do?”

358

Rosie

The limo smoothly and silently rounds the corner

and Woody’s Plaice rises into view, its wooden sign

creaking in the evening breeze, the lanterns twinkling

brightly in the windows.

“I wish didn’t have to go,” Kitty sighs, pulling me

close. “Today’s been so wonderful. Thank you so much.”

hug her back, my throat tightening painfully as

inhale her rich perfume, breathing her in. Don’t go

beg

inwardly. Don’t go, I’ve only just found you

“Promise me you’ll come visit,” she urges. “Just give

me call and I’ll arrange everything. Promise?”

nod, my eyes prickling.

“And no matter what happens—what’s happened—

know that love you.” She hugs me fiercely. “And I’m so, so

sorry …” Her ribs shudder and she tightens her grip,

holding me for

long moment before kissing me on the

cheek. “Now go. Before my mascara starts to run.” She

grins. “Again.”

look at her uncertainly, unwilling.

“Go,” she whispers, pulling

tissue out of her bag

and rolling her eyes. “Don’t mind me, I’m an actress. My

emotions are always at the surface. I’m fine.” She smiles

brightly. “Go, go.”

359

step out of the car and turn back to her as she

winds the window down.

“I’ll see you soon,” tell her.

“You’d better.” She grins tightly, her eyes bright.

“Goodbye, Rosie,” she whispers, gripping my hand.

“Goodbye,” whisper, my eyes filling as her hand

finally slips from mine as the car pulls away.

watch it sail away around the corner, my heart

both heavy and light.

Goodbye, Mum

It feels like

dream. It seems impossible that just

this morning didn’t know her at all, thought she didn’t

want to know me, and now

smile. She’s my mother.

mean, Trudie will always be my mum—Kitty will never

replace her—but now have chance to get to know my

real mother. My birth mother.

completely new,

wonderfully different woman. race up the steps to the

house, brimming with excitement, and fly through the

door, nearly colliding with Megan.

“Sorry!” grin. “Have you seen Andy?”

“Andy? No—have you seen—”

“Holly?” Jack calls, rushing into the kitchen. “Rosie!”

He stops in his tracks. “How did—Where’s Kitty?”

“She had to go, but oh, Jack, we had the best day!”

“Really?” He smiles, relieved. “I was so worried.”

“She’s terrific!” laugh. “She’s amazing, she’s just—”

“She’s your mother.” Jack smiles.

360

“Yes.”

look at him, the word thrilling through

every fiber of my being, bright and shiny and incredible.

“She is. She really is!”

“That’s so great, Rosie, after all this time …” Jack

smiles, but something clouds his eyes.

“And she said she was sorry,”

tell him quickly.

“Sorry for leaving us. For leaving you—that she’s

regretted it every day of her life.”

His expression changes as he looks down at me,

surprise followed by something else, something softer.

“She said that?” he whispers.

nod. “She said she was scared. Scared she’d ruin

our lives, and then scared to come back—frightened that

we’d reject her.”

He frowns. “I’d never have rejected her,” he

whispers softly, searching my eyes. “She’s

she’s your

mother.”

“I know.” smile up at him. “She also said that she

never worried about me, not for

minute, because she

knew I’d be safe with you,” tell him. “That you’d be

wonderful father.”

He looks at me, his eyes unreadable.

“She was right.”

beam,

lump swelling in my

throat.

Emotion streaks across his face.

“Thank you,” he whispers, his voice hoarse. “Rosie,

thank you.”

361

Holly

The pier looms up ahead of us before even realize

we’re back. stare at it, disorientated, unsure quite how

got here, how to continue.

“You okay?” Andy asks and

turn, startled. I’d

forgotten he was there.

nod quickly. “Yes, yes, sorry, was

somewhere

else.”

“Understandable.” He nods, climbing off the boat.

“You’ve been in sort of trance the whole way back. You

missed all the whales.”

look up, surprised.

“Oh, yeah,” he says. “There were dozens– massive

ones.”

smile tugs at my lips. “Liar.”

“You’ll never know, will you?” He winks, heading up

the hill.

“Thank you, Andy,”

tell him, following. “For

everything. That was

it was …”

“Horrific,” Andy finishes for me.

grin. “Horrific,”

agree, fumbling for my keys.

“Thanks for lending me your cell phone, too.”

“Hang on to it for now,” he tells me. “In case the

clinic rings about your appointment.”

362

“You’re sure? What if someone calls for you?”

“No one’s got that number—no one except Rosie,

anyway.

got the SIM especially to make calls in the

States—keep it for now.”

“Thanks.”

smile, the expression freezing on my

face as black stretch limo rounds the corner and heads

toward us.

“Holly?” Andy looks at me. “Holly, what is it?” He

glances at the car.

stare at it, frozen. “It’s her.”

He frowns. “Who?”

swallow hard. “Kitty.”

“Kitty?” Andy stares. “What the hell? What’s she doing here?”

My heart pounds deafeningly, my skin prickling as

the car gets closer, closer—then it’s gone.

close my eyes.

She’s gone

“Holly?” Andy says quietly. “Are you okay?”

nod slowly, forcing myself to take deep breaths.

She’s gone now

Andy wraps his arm around me gently. “Are you

sure?”

nod again, swallow. “I just want to go home.”

Andy nods, squeezing my shoulders tightly as we

slowly round the corner onto my street. We make it up the

driveway, up the steps, and then

stop, suddenly

exhausted. The thought of taking another step, of opening

363

that door, of facing Dad and Megan and dealing with

everything, is overwhelming.

“I don’t think can do this,” breathe.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Andy soothes. “Remember, it’s

your decision.”

bite my lip. My decision The hardest of my life.

“Come here,” he says, pulling me into hug. lean

into his warmth, closing my eyes and trying to pretend it’s

all been dream—a nightmare—that soon I’ll be able to

wake up.

“Oh, Rosie.” Dad’s voice floats through the open

kitchen window and

freeze. “I never stopped hoping,

never stopped trying

so many letters …” He trails off

and hold my breath, turning to look through the glass to

see Dad holding Rosie tightly.

“Holly?” Andy glances at me nervously.

can’t breathe. My eyes are glued to the pair of

them. My dad. With his daughter. His real daughter. His

healthy daughter.

“If she’d just given us

chance, if she’d just

tried

we could have been family …”

My chest tightens as he strokes her hair.

“Oh Rosie, it could’ve been—it should’ve been so

different …”

My heart stops.

Did he just say that? Did he really just say that?

“Holly?” Andy says distantly. “Are you okay?”

What about me– and Megan– and Ben? We’re his

family. Or at least, they are …

364

But not me realize, my legs trembling beneath me.

It’s never been me

stare at Rosie, folded so tightly in his arms, the

world revolving around her, as always. Where should be.

Where used to be.

She’s taken everything

“Holly?” Andy’s face swims in front of mine as he

searches my eyes, his hand soft on my cheek, his gaze

clear and blue.

Suddenly lean forward and kiss him, hard, pushing

against him as if my life depends on it.

He breaks away and stares at me. stare back, my

lips stinging, my pulse racing, hardly believing what I’ve

just done.

“Andy?” Rosie’s voice is small, hesitant.

The look on her face is priceless—shock and

surprise painting her cheeks beautiful shade of gray.

Maybe now she’ll know how it feels.

“Rosie …,” Andy starts. “Rosie, I—”

“Holly?”

freeze at the familiar voice.

Slowly,

look down the steps, to where Josh is

staring at me, his eyes wide, an inappropriately cheerful

bunch of daisies hanging limply from his hand.

365

Rosie

“What’s going on?” say quietly, my blood running

cold as

look through the open window at Andy, then

Holly, then back again. He looks away. “Andy …?”

He glances at Holly, then glares at me.

“Oh, sod the pair of you!” he mutters angrily,

pushing past her and storming straight past me through

the kitchen and thundering upstairs.

“Andy!” cry, racing after him. “Andy!”

find him in the bedroom stuffing clothes into his

rucksack.

“What are you doing?”

“Leaving, remember? wanted to go before, but you

begged me to stay—said you needed me. And like stupid

sod, believed you.” He wrestles with his bag, his fingers

fumbling in his hurry, his anger.

“Andy, what’s wrong?”

ask quietly. “What

happened?”

“You happened, Rosie. You happened.” He shoves

his clothes down, pushing and pounding as he struggles

with the zip. “I warned you—I warned you that you didn’t know what you were doing, what pain you could cause,

what bloody mess you’d make—but oh, no, Rosie knows best.” He yanks the zip up finally, tightens the cord, then

366

sighs, pushing his hair back from his face, his eyes closed.

“Such bloody mess …”

step closer, wanting to hold him, to soothe away

his anger, but something pins me to the spot.

“Is this about Holly?”

ask, my voice small, the

words stinging my tongue as they rise unbidden. “Did

you

did something happen?”

“Oh, here we go!” Andy laughs, lifting his bag off the

bed.

“I’m only asking,” defend myself, hugging my arms.

“Did you spend the day with her?”

“Why?” He rounds on me suddenly. “Why, where

were you, Rosie?”

stare at him. “I—”

“You were meant to be with me, we were supposed

to go whale watching, remember?” He glares at me. “But

when get out of the shower: surprise, surprise, no Rosie.

Again.”

“I’m sorry!” cry. “But Kitty just turned up—I had to

go—I left you note!”

“Really?

note?” Andy laughs. “Where? Where,

Rose? don’t see any note, do you?” He sweeps his arm

around the room. “And even if you did, you promised we’d spend today together, Rosie. You promised.” His eyes bore

into me. “But no. You left me. Again And it wasn’t even for Holly! You left me for Kitty– Kitty! After the way she

treated you in New York, the message she left on the

answering machine—she just snaps her fingers and off

you go? Are you crazy?”

367

“She’s my mum!”

“No, you had

mum, Rosie.

terrific mum. She

loved you, she cared for you, and yes, she’s gone, but I’m

telling you now, if you think Kitty’s going to be some

magical replacement, you’re in for big disappointment.”

“That’s not what I’m doing!”

“Well, don’t know what you’re doing anymore—

what you want, where you’re going. You’re coming

traveling, then you’re not. You’re finding your mother,

then you’re not. You’re spending the day with me, then

you’re not—I can’t keep up!”

stare at him, speechless.

“I’m sick of it, Rosie!” His bag thumps to the floor.

“I’ve been working shitty jobs since July to save up for this

trip—it’s my gap year! I’m supposed to be seeing the

sights, digging wells in dusty villages or getting off my face

at full-moon parties—not chasing around after messed-up

girls with their incessant issues who piss me about, then

screw me over at every turn!”

My cheeks burn. “That’s not fair.”

“Well, you know what? Life’s not fair. It wasn’t fair

that Trudie died, it wasn’t fair that she turned out not be

your mother. But you can’t just take another person’s

parents because yours have gone, then flaunt them in

their face with fishing trips and hugs and bloody limos—

that’s not fair, Rosie!”

“They’re my parents!” protest. “She’s my mother

Andy! He’s my father!

368

“He’s Holly’s father!” Andy rounds on me. “He’s been

her father for eighteen years, and now you’ve ruined her

life!”

“Me?”

stare at him, dumbfounded, anger rising

against the guilt and shame. “I didn’t even know about

Jack—it was you who found him, you who brought me here, Andy. was going to walk away, leave everyone well

alone, but you made me tell her. You said had no choice!”

“Well—”

“No, Andy, you’re in this as deep as am, but it’s so

much easier to just blame me, isn’t it? To do

runner

when things get complicated—like you always do? When

the truth is, we wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for

you!”

“Well, maybe you’re better off without me, then,” he

counters. “You’re right, I’m wrong, whatever.” He shrugs.

“I’m well out of it.” He swings his bag onto his shoulder

and pulls on his Yankees baseball cap.

My heart hurts, beating frantically.

bought him

that cap in New York—we’d laughed so hard.

“Andy, wait!” grab his arm. “Please!”

“Why?” His eyes bore into mine.

“I—”

“You don’t need me, Rosie—you’ve got your family

now. The whole reason you came, remember?” His eyes

blaze at me.

369

“Andy—”

“Goodbye, Rose.” He yanks open the door. “I hope it

was worth it.”

Helplessly, watch him go, pinned to the spot by his

words—the truth—as the door slams shut behind him.

370

Holly

“Holly?” Josh looks up at me. “Holly, what’s going

on?”

can’t look at him, can’t face him. My cheeks are

burning and feel nauseous.

“Holly? Could you come down here, please?”

close my eyes, then walk slowly down the steps,

my grip tight on the handrail, my eyes on the ground.

“So?” he says when reach the bottom. “You wanna

tell me what’s going on?”

“Nothing,”

mumble, my eyes glued to the path.

“Nothing’s going on.”

“Right,” he says, nodding thoughtfully. “I get dozen

missed calls, plus texts and voice mails begging me to call

you—there’s something urgent you have to tell me—yet

when try calling you today you don’t answer your phone,

then when come all the way down here find you kissing

some other guy!”

close my eyes.

“So tell me, Holly, what was it that was so urgent?

What was it you just had to tell me?”

He looks at me and look away, take deep breath,

willing the words to come, the impossible, awful, life-

altering truth.

371

He laughs bitterly. “I suppose that’s

stupid

question.”

frown. “What do you mean?”

“This is what you were so desperate to tell me?” he

says. “That you’re dumping me for someone else?”

stare at him incredulously, the blood pumping

wildly through my veins, the enormity of my news

overwhelming as look at him, so agitated, so outraged.

Then suddenly laugh—a brittle, edgy sound.

“Yes, Josh,”

tell him. “Yes, that’s exactly it. I’ve

found someone else—I’m in love with Andy.”

“What?” He stares at me dumbfounded. “Who the

hell is Andy?”

“I’m sorry.” close my eyes, forcing the words out

painfully. “It’s over.”

“Holly …”

march away from him.

“Holly, wait—”

bite my lip, don’t turn.

“Holly!” He grabs my arm. “What’s going on? What’s

happened?”

“It’s over!” tell him, pulling roughly away. “Are you

stupid or something? Do you need me to spell it out?”

stare at him, my blood racing, out of control. “It’s over,

Josh. I’ve moved on Deal with it, okay? You’re free—go screw as many college girls as you want.”

“What?” Josh stares at me. “Holly—”

“Why didn’t you answer your phone, Josh?” ask

miserably. “Where were you?”

372

“What?”

“You knew how upset was, how much needed

you, yet you wouldn’t let me come with you, wouldn’t

answer your phone …” Hot tears streak down my face. “I

needed you, Josh. needed you and you weren’t there.”

“Holly, baby, I’m sorry—I’m here now, I—”

“It’s too late.” turn away sadly. “You’re too late.”

“Holly …” He sighs. “… didn’t get your calls,

couldn’t answer. didn’t have my phone—I left it