Undertow (37 page)

Alex eventually opened a little art and souvenir shop down on the beach road, and from what I could tell she was pretty successful at it. She stopped painting altogether and dropped out of all social circles. I only heard from her if Julian needed something she couldn’t afford, and then I’d deposit a check into her account. I always doubled what she asked for.

She never told him who his father was. Ten years after that night, the one time I’d suggested coming clean, she’d told me no. The fallout would be too great. She was probably right, and I’ve never brought it up again.

Now, except for the occasional, accidental crossing of paths, I never see her. I heard about Julian growing and becoming interested in art. He isn’t a painter like his mother, but I read he’s developing an impressive body of work in sculpture.

Time is passing and I’m watching my children grow and evolve. Meg would be pleased that they’re all fine-looking kids. Of the three, I’m closest to Jack, and I’m grooming him to take over my role in the business. He’s controlled and mature for his age, and his instincts are good. Lucy is impossible to manage and is always getting into trouble. I don’t know what to do with her, so my one hope is I can pay for whatever damage she causes.

Will has been the most troubled. He inherited my drive to take the business world by storm, but he’s ruthless and cold. There’s a cruelty to his approach that I don’t like. He doesn’t want to produce a legacy, he simply wants to win. I blame the loss of his mother, which hit him hardest since he was old enough to remember her well. At times it feels like he blames me for her death, as if he somehow knows, which is impossible.

I hang back and observe my children as they find their way in the world. Perhaps they won’t make the same mistakes I’ve made, but they probably will. The hole I created in their lives when I drove their mother away is gaping and apparent, and I never want them to know what really happened.

In the evenings, I walk out on the patio and look out at Lost Bay. I stare at the darkening skyline as the misty stars light up one by one. South of me I can see the product of my years of dedication and focus, and I wonder how it can be possible that I accomplished something so enormous and yet repeatedly failed at something so simple.

I started out on one path, and then I discovered I was lost. I reached out to change direction and took a life. There was a time I sat and wished it would all be over. But the end is a long way off.

When I’m feeling honest, I’ll admit I’m not ready to acknowledge my defeat. I’ve never failed when I’ve been truly determined to win. I think about the night I’d been ready to give it all away, everything I’d devoted my life to achieving, if I could just be free. That level of motivation and focus has always served me well. This time will pass, and I will have what I want.

We will be together.

* * *

Anna –
December 31

I sat back and exhaled deeply. It was all so sad.

They hadn’t been much older than I am now in the beginning, and by the end, they were all so far off track. I didn’t know whether to cry, to be angry, or to be disgusted with all three of them. How could they be so selfish and blind to the ones they were supposed to care about? At the same time, I could see them making these mistakes, and I could also see why. And how easily it all fell apart.

Ms. LaSalle’s reasons for wanting to keep these dark facts a secret were understandable. Julian would have to deal with the knowledge that his entire existence was a product of a betrayal that ultimately led to a death. But I couldn’t understand what Mr. Kyser wanted. Even though their marriage seemed doomed from the start, I couldn’t believe he’d put his family through this revelation, even if he did want to know Julian as his son.

So why had he given me these books? Why did he want me to know all of this?

I leaned my head against my bed. Mom and Dad would be home in a few hours. I needed to do this now. Scooping up the three journals, I grabbed my jacket and my bag and headed downstairs. I scribbled out a quick note for Mom, telling her I was meeting Julian and wouldn’t be much after midnight, that I had my phone. In minutes, I was speeding down the familiar, two-lane beach road in the direction of Hammond Island.

He’d be there alone. I knew from Lucy’s text she was at the party with B.J., and Jack and Will were in New Orleans. The sun was dropping fast, but one glance at the clock told me I had time. And I needed answers.

I parked in the large, circular driveway and stepped out onto the flagstone. Everything was different now as I looked up at the massive stucco mansion. I was different. I wasn’t afraid anymore.

Bill Kyser had pulled back the curtain, and everything made sense, from his rude question about birth control that first night to his separation from his children to the things he’d told me during our interview in his office. Not to make plans at my age, feelings change.

The side door was unlocked, and I let myself in, walking through the mud room into the kitchen. The house was quiet and dimly lit. I continued into the open living area and looked out toward the large patio that faced the bay. There he stood.

He was just outside the doors with his back to me, dressed in khaki pants and a long-sleeved shirt. The wind pushed his light-brown hair around his head.

“Mr. Kyser?” I called.

He didn’t turn immediately. His hand lifted, and I watched him take a drink first. Then his back expanded with an exhale, and when he did turn, I was impressed again by how much both his sons were like him in different ways.

His blue eyes went from my face to the books in my hands and he nodded slightly. “You finished.”

“Yes, and I wanted to bring them back. I knew Lucy was out.” Somehow I couldn’t just charge into what I wanted to know. I felt the need to be more formal, which didn’t make any sense, given all I knew about him now.

“Thank you,” he said, not moving. “You can leave them on the counter.”

But I didn’t move. I wasn’t going anywhere yet. It was strangely liberating to know so much about a person, and even if we weren’t exactly friends, my old fear of him was gone.

“Why did you give them to me?” I asked.

His eyes flickered down, and he entered the living room, going to the fireplace. He placed his tumbler on the mantle where pictures of Jack and Lucy as babies, him and Will, were arranged. He studied them a moment before answering.

“I wanted your help,” he said quietly.

My brow creased. “How can I help you?”

He traced his finger down one of the frames before dropping his arm. “I want my family together. I want them to be in my life. I want this”—he looked up at the giant house, around the panoramic view with the Phoenicians rising faintly in the distance—“all of it to mean something.” His last statement was almost a hushed afterthought.

I inhaled deeply before answering. “I don’t know if that’s possible. And even if it were, how can
I
help you with that?”

His eyes held mine then. “The day you said Julian needed to know his father—what made you say that?”

I shook my head, gesturing with the books. “I said it because I didn’t know all this.”

“Yes, but that day, why did you say it?”

I blinked several times, thinking. “Because he’d said something that… well, I knew it bothered him not knowing who you were.” I paused, then quietly added, “And because it’s not fair.”

“Why?” I could tell he already knew my answer.

“You could give him so much.”

“I want to give them everything,” he said. “I want them to live here with me. I want Julian to know he has a father. To know how proud his father is of him.”

I could tell by his tone he knew it was an impossible wish, but he was giving me a glimpse of his private pain. My eyes grew warm at that thought combined with what I knew. Julian believed his dad didn’t want to know him, never cared about him, never gave a shit. He had no idea.

“But what about Jack and Lucy?” I asked. “And Will. What happened was so awful. I don’t know if there’s a way back from it.”

He didn’t speak. He turned to the mantle again, and I couldn’t help feeling a twinge of guilt. But it was the truth. And it was a truth I knew he was well-acquainted with.

“I can never be forgiven for something that happened so long ago,” he said softly.

His words made my stomach hurt, and I didn’t know how to respond.

Then he glanced back. “Julian has an opening soon, right?”

I nodded. “He has a statue being installed at the Sports Center. It’s kind of a big deal.”

“Are you going?”

“He asked me to be his date.”

His lips pressed into a tight smile before he spoke. “I’ll be there. I’ll come over and speak to you about our feature for the paper. I’ll mention the possibility of using his art in some way at one of my developments.”

“Ms. LaSalle would never—”

“Lexy’s going to be the biggest obstacle.” He reached for the crystal glass. “I’ll talk to her, ease her into the idea.”

“But you still haven’t answered my question,” I said, walking over to a wooden table standing beside the brushed, leather sofa. I placed the three books on it. “You didn’t have to show these to me to ask for my help. Now I know all of this, and I can never tell Julian. I can’t tell any of them!”

“I needed you to understand.” Ice rattled as he tilted the glass. “Now you know why we can’t have you talking about it.”

“But I was never going to talk about it! I just wanted you to… ” I shook my head. “Okay, maybe I
did
ask you to tell Julian the truth, but I meant you, not me. And if that’s your ultimate goal anyway, how? When?”

“When Lexy says I can,” he said.

“She’s never going to say that!” My voice rose as I started to see what this really meant. “Julian and I are getting close. I think we might get serious, and now you’ve put this huge thing between us.”

“Lexy will come around,” he said, restoring the tumbler to the mantle as if he weren’t even listening to me. “And in the meantime, you can help me find ways to help Julian, to know him better. Then perhaps he won’t feel so—”

“Shocked? Betrayed? He’s already angry that his dad’s never shown up once.”

His eyes caught mine, and I saw his determination. “That’s why I need your help. I need to know these things about him. I won’t let you get hurt.”

I turned away, my chest burning with what I knew. “You can’t promise that. And I don’t know if I can help you. I don’t know what the right thing is.”

“The truth is always the right thing.”

“I’ll have to think about it,” I said, picking up my purse and heading to the door. I needed to go.

The sun was quickly disappearing, and the sky outside the patio windows was a blaze of orange, gold, pink, and blue. I wanted to get out to the water and breathe in the salt air and listen to the surf. I wanted to be with Julian. They were the two things that always helped me find calm, only now I didn’t know what I would find when I saw Julian again.

* * *

The whole drive back, I rubbed my lined forehead as I stared at the two-lane road. Everything Bill Kyser had said swirled in my brain. He wanted me to help him know Julian better, he was going to talk to Ms. LaSalle, he wouldn’t tell Julian until she said yes, and now I was right in the middle of it.

I parked at the beach pavilion and ran out to the Gulf in front of the towering Phoenician I complex. Once there, I turned around to gaze at the massive high-rise, and my breath caught in my throat. He’d done it all right. He’d spent the last twenty years unfolding his big plan, and these monuments had withstood it all.

The faintest glow still lit the horizon. I shivered in the chilly air and pulled out my phone, quickly texting Julian, letting him know I was here. The moon was rising over the dark water, and everything was changing to silver, black, and white. Further down the beach, the occasional firework pierced the night, but the show hadn’t started yet.

I stared back up at the dark tower standing tall behind me. Tall, unmoving, and alone just like the man I’d left behind on Hammond Island. What was going to happen now? Could I make it out of this current without being drowned?

My phone buzzed, and I looked down at the number Bill Kyser had given me with the books. I slid my finger across the face to answer.

His voice was stiff. “A letter was in my journal. It’s missing.”

“Oh my god!” I squeezed my eyes shut. “It’s under my pillow. It fell out, and I forgot to put it back.”

The squeak of feet on sand caused me to jump around. A figure was jogging in my direction. Julian.

“I’ll get it to you. I have to go,” I said, just barely hearing his father’s voice as I turned off my phone.

Julian slowed down as he reached me, smiling curiously. “Important call?”

I shrugged, smiling back. “Just checking in with the parents.”

It wasn’t a total lie, but I still cringed inwardly. Lies were what had led to the end of their story, and I hated bringing lies into ours. My damaged emotions had been one problem, but what I knew now was a far bigger one.

He stood in front of me, the wind pushing his dark hair around his handsome face. “It’s funny,” he said. “I was thinking about you, and right then you texted me.”