“Where I always am,” the teenager nonchalantly replied, peering into the cupboard as she stood on tiptoe.
“I happen to know you weren’t at band practice, Gabi.”
“I didn’t say I was.”
“Youimpliedit.” Zoey took a deep breath and then let it out. She had skirted the truth often enough herself to understand Gabi was hiding something, but hadn’t wanted to tell a boldfaced lie about it. That was a good sign, but Zoey still needed to know the whole truth. “If you weren’t at band practice, where were you?”
Gabi mumbled something Zoey couldn’t hear so she asked her to repeat it. “What does it matter to you whether I’m practicing my flute or not? You didn’t even come to my Christmas concert this year.”
The accusation plunged into Zoey’s heart. Was that why her niece never played her flute in the house? Because she thought Zoey didn’t want to hear it? Or because she was getting back at her for missing her performance? “I’m sorry, Gabi. I’m so proud of your talent and I wish—”
“Whatever. It doesn’t matter.” She snapped the cupboard door shut and started to leave the room.
Zoey decided she’d talk to her about missing her Christmas concert again later, when Gabi was more receptive. For now, they had to stay on topic. “Hold on. We’re not done talking yet. I told you before that I trusted you and I do. But in return, I expectyouto trust me by telling me the truth. So I’ll ask you again. What have you been doing after school on Tuesdays and Thursdays?”
Gabi dipped her chin and picked at her fingernail, her hair veiling her face. “Hanging with my friends.”
Zoey wasn’t buying it. If her niece wasn’t hiding anything, why would she have led Zoey to believe she was at band practice all this time?“Where?”
“Does it really matter?”
“Yes, it matters.”
“Why? Aren’t I entitled to privacy? It’s not as if you tellyouraunt everything about your life. You’ve even asked me to keep your secrets from her!”
Gabi’s point was beside the point, a distraction tactic. Zoey ignored it. As evenly as she could, she answered, “I’m an adult and you’re fourteen, so I’m legally responsible for you and I need to be sure you’re safe. I also need to know I can find you quickly if there’s an emergency here.”
“You sound just like Kathleen.”
Good. That means I must be doing something right.“So, are you going to tell me where you’ve been hanging out with your friends?”
She huffed. “At the beach.”
This entire island is a beach!“Which one?”
“I don’t remember what it’s called. I just moved here.”
“How about your friends’ names? Can you rememberthem?” Zoey shot back. When Gabi shrugged, she realized she was on the verge of losing patience, so she was silent a moment, trying not to let her frustration get the best of her. Her voice low, she tried again. “Listen, I understand that you want your privacy. Your freedom. And I’ve been very careful not to infringe on that. But when you won’t tell me what you’ve been doing, it makes me wonder all sorts of things. Like maybe you’re out with a boy, maybe Aidan, or—”
Gabi snickered in a way that reminded herexactlyof Mark. “You don’t knowanything.”
That was more than she could tolerate. Zoey glared at her, saying, “I’m not asking you to share every detail of your social life with me, Gabi. But I do need to know who you’re with and where you’re going. If you refuse to tell me that much, I have to assume it’s because you’re doing something you shouldn’t be doing. So from now on, except on Mondays and Wednesdays when you have band practice, I expect you to come directly home from school.”
Gabi backed away and yelled, “Why? So I can sit around with my two old spinster aunts while they stare at a picture of a dead person and tell the same stories over and over again?”
She stomped out of the room but before she reached the stairs, Zoey raced into the hall and shouted the first comeback she could think of. “For your information, I’m not old—I’m thirty-eight. And Aunt Ivy’s not a spinster. She’s awidow!”
Her hands shaking, she returned to the sink and filled a glass with water but she couldn’t drink it. She heard a rustle in the living room.Please let that be Moby,she thought.But when she approached the threshold she saw Ivy in her usual chair, a newspaper folded on her lap. She hadn’t gone upstairs to shower after all; she must have heard everything.
“I’m so sorry, Auntie.” Zoey squatted in front of her, touching her knees. “She’s behaving like a little monster. Just like her mother used to.” Although Jessica rarely wielded it, she’d had a formidable mean streak. “Gabi didn’t mean those things. She was lashing out at me. And I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did, either.”
“She’s right, though. I do tell the same stories over and over.” Ivy seemed so far away. So withdrawn. As if she’d closed herself up, like one of Sylvia’s tulips in the evening.
“I love hearing your stories,” Zoey insisted. “Especially that one about the time Captain Denny tried to surprise you on your twenty-fifth birthday and you stumbled upon his gift. Where had he hidden it again?”
But Ivy shook her head. “Not tonight, dear.”
Seeing the pain on her aunt’s face, Zoey felt like sending Gabi on the next flight back to California. Then she wishedshecould fly away…
