In Nightfall, page 19
Marco exhales heavily and rubs his eyes. “Of course,” he says.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I demand. “Marco, we can’t move here. And why would you want to?”
He snorts a laugh. “Okay, Theo. As if you have something so great going on in Arizona. At least here there’s a sense of community. People look out for each other.”
“What?” I say, on the verge of shouting. “You sound like a suburban mom. What the hell are you talking about? Marco, do you remember last night? You were standing in my room, hovering at the end of my bed like a damn ghost.”
A flash of guilt crosses his expression. “I…I’m sorry.”
“Not accepted,” I say. “Something is up with you. And it’s getting worse. And now Dad is acting strange and…Are you seriously not seeing this?”
I’m devastated at how far away my brother seems. Marco and I have always been close—especially during our parents’ separation. I need him right now.
“What’s wrong with you?” I demand, furious. “Is this about a girl?”
“It’s about family, Theo,” Marco replies, staring me down. “We’re meant to be here, together. We always have been.”
I’m in disbelief. It’s like I don’t even know my brother right now.
“I thought we were a team,” I say, my voice raw with hurt.
My brother looks me dead in the eyes and shrugs. “Guess we’re not on the same side anymore,” he says.
I physically recoil from the coldness in his statement. I walk to the attic stairs and then turn back, hoping for an apology. But Marco already has his phone out and is texting someone—probably Minnow. I exit the attic, closing the door behind me and leaving the key in the lock.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
I get back into my room, casting a hateful look at the porcelain dolls lining the shelf. It’s a problem that the most normal person here is now my grandmother, who creates stick figures to ward off evil spirits.
I grab my phone to call Willa, and see a missed text from my mother.
Please call me, she writes. I miss you. I hope you’re having fun.
I swallow hard, missing her, too. I’m not even mad anymore. Suddenly, something breaks inside me. I don’t want to fight with her. I sit on my bed, tears welling up. I miss my mother. I shouldn’t have been ignoring her all this time.
When our parents first sat Marco and me down to tell us they were separating, my mother chose to move out. She was working crazy hours getting her newest restaurant off the ground and needed to be closer to it. Marco and I told her right then, and I still remember the shocked look on her face, that we were staying with our father. The way my mother’s dark eyes weakened before she smiled and told us it was okay still haunts me sometimes.
It hurt my mother. She never came out and said it, but I know how she felt. Instead of showing the hurt, though, she hugged us both and told us that she only wanted us to be happy.
I felt betrayed when she moved in with Dale. But if I’m honest…I know they’re going to get a bigger place. They were already looking when we left. Mom couldn’t stay in her condo; the building had been sold. But I didn’t care about the details. I wanted to believe that nothing mattered more than me and my brother. That she could magically fix everything.
And now look where I am. My dad is going to uproot my life and my brother is a stranger. I haven’t spoken to my mother in over two weeks.
I wipe the tears off my cheeks as they fall. Sometimes a person just needs their mother. I pull up her contact and press call. She answers on the first ring.
“Theo,” she says. Her voice is a warm blanket around my shoulders. My heart aches at the sound of it. “I’m so happy to hear from you. I’ve been worried. How are you, my love?”
I forgot how my mother can swoop in and completely change the mood of a room, filling it up with oxygen so we all breathe a little easier, even if it means we have to keep up with her energy.
“I’m sorry,” I say, regret thick in my voice. “I’m so sorry I haven’t called you. I—”
“Shhh…,” she says. “You have now. Let’s talk now.”
I nod even though she can’t see me.
“How are you?” she asks. “Hopefully it hasn’t been raining on you too hard. I know how much you’d hate that.”
“The sun came out for about a half hour the other day,” I say, sniffling away my tears. I’m relieved at how normal it feels to talk to her again. “Expect me to be very tan in August,” I add, and she laughs.
“Luckily you’re naturally tan,” she replies. “Now, how’s Marco doing? I know he was pouting before he left. By the way, I saw one of his ex-girlfriends at the restaurant. She had the nerve to ask when he was having another party. Can you believe that?” She tsks and I hear her take a drink of something, the ice rattling in her glass. She’s probably in the back office at the restaurant, dropping everything just to take my call.
But the mention of my brother has put me on edge. “Marco’s fine,” I say, my voice tight. I really want to tell her about him creeping around, looking like a cadaver on one of the CSI shows. But I can’t bring myself to say it out loud. It feels like tattling on him, even though I know that’s ridiculous.
“What about you, Mom?” I ask to change the subject. “How are you and Dale?”
“Oh, we’re good,” she says. “But I know you didn’t call to ask about him. What’s the matter? I can hear it in your voice. Is your grandmother being a pain?”
“It’s not Nonna,” I say. “Not really.”
“Nonna?” she repeats with a laugh. “Oh, I like that for her. Then what is it? I know something’s wrong.”
Before I get into specifics, there’s a question gnawing at me. “Mom,” I start, “why didn’t you like Nightfall? Dad said you weren’t happy here at all.”
She grows quiet, the sounds of the restaurant now clear in the background. “Oh, I don’t know,” she says, sounding far away. “It just wasn’t for me.”
My mother is lying, or at least leaving something out. “I want to know,” I say.
“Theodora…”
“Mom, really,” I say, sitting up. “Tell me why you didn’t like it here.”
She waits a long moment, and then her voice is closer, like her mouth is against the receiver. “It was a long time ago,” she says. “But I…I didn’t feel welcome in Nightfall. Someone told your father while I was standing next to him that I wasn’t the ‘right fit.’ ” She laughs dully. “As you can imagine, that was awkward. Your father, though, well, he loves it there. We almost broke up because he was so distant during our trip. I just…I couldn’t stand it. I decided to leave right in the middle of one of their festivals.”
“The Midnight Dive?” I ask.
“Yeah,” my mom says, amused. “That’s what it was. Anyway, your father met me at the town line, telling me he was coming with me, and that I was right—Nightfall had terrible Mexican food.”
She laughs, but when I don’t return it, she sighs heavily.
“Like I said,” she tells me, “it was a long time ago. Your father assured me that you and Marco would be fine in Nightfall—that they’d welcome you because of the family history. Has something happened? Do you need me to call him?” There is a hint of apprehension in her voice. I can tell that she doesn’t want to talk to my father.
And to be honest, I don’t want to talk to him either. I look toward the window, then at the porcelain dolls lining the shelf. “Mom,” I say, misery clear in my voice, “I want to come home.”
“Oh, Theo,” she says. “We’ve talked about this. But…if you can’t stick to the plan, maybe we can figure something out. If Dale’s older kids bunk together, um…the little one can sleep with us, I guess. Or I could see about renting another place until…”
I hear the strain in her voice and I wince. I’m a burden. There’s no room for me in her new life. I should have known better. I should have known better than to even ask.
“Never mind,” I say, closing my eyes. “It’s fine, Mom. Never mind.”
“Oh, my love, are you sure?” she asks. I can’t tell if it’s relief or guilt in her voice.
“Yeah,” I say, forcing myself to sound calm. “I’ll be back in August.” My despair turns to resolve. I’m literally trapped in this place. I can’t cry about it anymore. I have to get through it and convince my dad that we can’t stay here. I have to be rational.
“Well, I do have some good news…,” my mother adds hopefully. “I’ve been waiting for the right moment to tell you. Dale and I are getting married in the fall, after you and your brother get back. A big event at the Scottsdale Princess. I want you to be my maid of honor.”
Her announcement is a shock, even though I’d been expecting it for a while. Numbly, I murmur, “Okay,” unable to say anything more.
“Really?” she asks happily. “Oh, Theo. That means so much to me. We’re going to have such an amazing time. I’ve already—”
Off the line, someone at the restaurant is calling, “Rosalinda!” She sighs. “I’m sorry, my love,” she tells me. “I have to go. But I should be done around ten. Call me later if you need anything, okay?”
“I will,” I say, sick with disappointment.
“Love you!” she sings out, and then hangs up.
I sit a moment with the phone in my hand, looking around the guest room, feeling alone. Forgotten. My mother’s getting remarried. I don’t know why it hurts so much, but it does, and I know it’ll hurt Marco, too. If anything, it’ll be an additional reason for him to stay in Nightfall forever.
For a moment, I wonder if anything at home will ever be the same anyway. My mom is off with her new life. Marco and my dad are obsessing about Oregon. I have no one to talk to, no one who really understands. I look at my phone again.
Hey. You around? I write to Willa, and hit send.
Practice in five, she replies. Call you after?
That’s right. My friends are practicing without me. Building plays and laughing together.
Sure, I write back.
I think about the conversation I had with my father and remember suddenly that he said Olivia Miles was coming to dinner. Same with Minnow. He said I could invite someone, and I consider it. Really, there’s only been one person who seems to understand me in this town.
I scroll through my phone and find Parrish’s number. Nervous, I tap out a text to him.
Would you want to come to dinner tonight with my family? I write. It feels a little presumptuous to ask him, and it doesn’t help my nerves when the icon that he’s writing back flashes but then disappears. Oh no. I shouldn’t have asked. How embarrassing.
What time should I be there?
I smile, letting out my breath. Part of me is just happy not to be alone, thrilled by the idea that someone actually wants to hang out with me. But it’s more than that—I like him, and I’m pretty sure he likes me. And that’s exciting and normal and fun.
Dinner is at 7, I tell him. Thank you. I need the backup.
Anytime, he writes. I’ll text you when I get there.
Knowing he’s going to be at dinner has settled my nerves slightly, but only slightly. Things are still an absolute mess.
I check the time and consider going downstairs to confront my father again, plead my case to go back to Arizona. But then I get thinking about Olivia Miles. She seemed fine when we met, but she’s the reason that my father just completely uprooted our lives. I’m angry at her, even though I barely know the woman.
I grab my laptop and click into the search engine and type “Olivia Miles author.”
Her image pops up and I recognize it as the one from the display window in the bookstore. Her hair is airbrushed and the lighting is overly soft. I click to a second photo of her with her dog, Cyrus. The large white animal is truly majestic, even if he trashed my grandmother’s flowers. I navigate to Olivia’s website and skim her bio, smiling to myself: “Wrangler of strays, both dogs and men. Never mess with a romance writer.” Okay, I still like her.
She grew up here in Nightfall, although she went to college in Corvallis. She’s never married, no kids. Well, at least that means if things get serious with my dad, she won’t pick her kids over Marco and me. I wince, trying to remind myself not to be mad at my mother. I know she loves me. Life is…complicated. I just wish I weren’t the complication in my own mother’s plans.
I take a deep breath and close my laptop. Yes, I need to talk to my father before dinner—otherwise things could get really awkward. And I have to be convincing. If I have any hope of setting my life normal again, I’ll need to make him see reason.
I go to my door, and just as I open it, my grandmother appears at the top of the stairs, looking startled to see me. She’s wearing a navy blue tracksuit, her gray hair freshly curled, probably for the upcoming parade. She takes a few steps toward me before her gaze falls on the key in the lock of the attic door. Nonna darts a look toward my father’s bedroom, narrowing her eyes at his closed door.
She sighs heavily before turning back to me.
And I swear, she reads it all—understands everything.
“Oh, now,” she murmurs sympathetically, and opens her arms.
Without even thinking about it, I rush forward and hug her. Nonna is tiny in my arms, but her hold is a weighted blanket, calming my nerves. She smells of fresh herbs and soap, and her voice is soothing next to my ear.
“Don’t go crying,” she whispers. “The sun will be out today.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
My grandmother and I don’t discuss my father’s plans for moving us here. I’m sure she knows, but she doesn’t bring it up. And to be honest, I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Not now. Her hug sort of brought me back to life.
I also don’t ask her why she locked my brother in the attic. Guess we both have our secrets. Maybe she knew he was wandering around late last night, being creepy. In fact, a small part of me hopes she locks him in there again tonight. And yes, that thought does correlate to me being mad at him for not telling me about our father’s plans earlier.
But, instead of digging in my heels about the move, I ease up, planning to take a slower approach. I have to be smart, plan it all out. Like a detective—never ask a suspect a question you don’t already know the answer to.
It’s almost seven o’clock when the doorbell rings. I’m still getting ready for dinner, attempting to wrap a braid around my head in a way that looks summer chic instead of milkmaid. I’ve already put on makeup, thrilled about seeing Parrish again. Dinner with my family is definitely a date-like move.
The doorbell rings again, and I groan, dropping my hair to let the braid fall over my shoulder. Where is everyone else?
I head downstairs, assuming it’s Olivia at the door since Parrish texted earlier to let me know he’d be a few minutes late. Despite the obvious issues with moving to Nightfall, I’m excited about seeing Olivia again. I’m glad my father has found someone. Hopefully his behavior will make more sense when she’s around. He could just be a little lovesick—I’ve definitely seen my brother get caught up in relationships before. Including now.
Which reminds me…where the hell is Marco?
The doorbell chimes again, and I walk up to it, plastering on a smile to greet the famous author. I yank open the door, a cool breeze blowing in around me—the sun long hidden behind the clouds. My breath catches in surprise.
There’s a uniformed officer standing there, and a police car parked beside Nonna’s minivan. The man is tall, well over six feet, with broad shoulders, bushy black eyebrows, and thin lips. His cheeks are ruddy. He’s an imposing figure in the small doorway.
“Can I help you?” I ask weakly.
“Yes, you can,” he replies. “I’m Sheriff Wyndell. We received a call the other night from out at Sunrise Beach. I believe that was you?”
“Um…I—”
“Sheriff Wyndell,” my father says, coming up behind me. He grips the edge of the open door like he’s going to slam it in the sheriff’s face at any second. The hostility is off-putting and out of place. “What are you doing here?” my dad asks.
“Your daughter called 911 the other night to report finding a body,” the sheriff says with a note of arrogance in his voice. “Of course, when we arrived at the location, the beach was deserted and there was no body. There was, however, a bunch of alcohol and a recently extinguished fire. I’m thinking maybe things got out of hand.”
My stomach sinks. My father breathes heavily out of his nose, and I’m worried he’s having flashbacks to the house party my brother threw. Then again, my father already told me that he used to hang out at Sunrise Beach when he lived here. So he doesn’t have much room to judge. Still, I quickly try to refocus the conversation.
“I actually made a mistake,” I tell the sheriff. “I thought…I thought I saw a body, but it was a watch someone left behind. I’m really sorry.”
The sheriff smiles. “Ah yes,” he says, turning his sharp gaze on me. “Well, here’s a tip for the next time you want to file a report. When you see a real dead body, you’re sure it’s real.”
He’s patronizing and I’m incensed. At the time, I was sure.
My father takes a step forward. “There you go,” my father says. “You have her statement. Anything else?”
Sheriff Wyndell turns to him, his lips hitching up in a bitter smile. “And when exactly did you get back in town, Joseph?” he asks.
“A couple of days ago.” My dad smiles. “But I might stay permanently, Wyatt. Help my mother out.”
Just then, as if summoned, Nonna comes out of the kitchen. “Are we going to leave this door open all day?” she asks. “You coming in or out, Wyatt? I’m not running a boardinghouse for mosquitoes.”
The sheriff nods at Nonna, averting his eyes as if realizing he’s overstepped. “I’ll be out,” he says, moving back. “And I’m sorry to bother you, ma’am.” She huffs out a sound, arms crossed over her chest. The sheriff holds up a finger to me. “And you stay out of trouble.”
