“Indirectly.” Craig explained, “I took a swing at the bartender, John, because I was drunk and he cut me off. But my excuse for getting drunk in the first place was because I was so upset after…”
When he didn’t finish his sentence, Caitlin guessed, “After I came to the fire station and questioned you about your relationship with Nicole?”
“Yeah—not that it’s your fault.I’mresponsible for my sobriety,” he quickly asserted. “See, it was such a shock when Nicole died and I felt guilty about getting so angry at her.Reallyguilty. I mean, on my worst days—even though I knew it wasn’t true—I used to wonder if she drowned on purpose, to get back at me for what I said. And then I’d think if that’s what she did, it served me right because I shouldn’t have been such a jerk.”
The brutal honesty of his confession struck a chord with Caitlin. Onherworst days following the accident, she used to wish she’d wake up with amnesia, figuring she’d gladly forget every single thing about the first eighteen years of her life if it also meant she didn’t have any recollection of what happened the night of Nicole’s death. So she understood how guilt—as well as the trauma of the accident—had made Craig feel the way he’dfelt, even if those emotions were extreme. But she was surprised he was being so open with her, and she held her breath, silently waiting for him to continue.
“For obvious reasons, I couldn’t talk to anyone about what I was going through,” he said. “So I started drinking to numb my emotions. It wasn’t that much at first, just whatever I could steal from my parents’ liquor cabinet. But it got worse and worse until I was binge-drinking three or four nights a week. There were other contributing factors, but essentially it became a lifestyle for about six years until I’d totaled my car, destroyed my relationships, and drained my bank account. Finally, I went to a recovery center and I got sober.”
“Good for you,” Caitlin murmured. Even though she was aware that people in recovery programs often shared personal stories about their addiction struggles, once again she was struck by how vulnerable Craig was being, since they barely knew each other. It was almost as if they shared an affinity, an unspoken trust, because of their history with Nicole.
“In the process, my sponsor helped me work through my issues, and I thought I’d made peace with what happened that summer. For fourteen years, I was happy, healthy, successful, never drank a drop. For fourteen years, I left the past in the past. Even when someone mentioned you were back on the island and people started rehashing the drowning again, I held it together.”
I wonder if Claire was the one who fanned those flames, thought Caitlin.
“But when you came to the station and showed me the map?—"
She interrupted, “What map?”
He tapped the faded sketch on the placemat she was holding. “This is a map of where I used to live. I never gave Nicole my address, but she must have tracked it down.” He snickered. “The little stalker.”
“Ohh. So this cube with the X on it is supposed to be your house?”
“Yep, and all these straight lines above it are streets. The squiggly lines below it are waves.” Craig stretched his arm in front of her, pointing to the south. “See those dunes on the other side of the inlet?”
Caitlin squinted. “Just barely.”
“That’s Bayview Circle, where I grew up in Benjamin’s Manor.”
“I can’t see any houses from here.”
“There were only three of them on our street, and they were all condemned and demolished after they were damaged by Storm Brody in 2018. Ever since then, the land’s been too fragile for anyone to rebuild in that area,” he said.
“Now that you mention it, I kind of remember passing those houses when I went to the harbor in my uncle’s boat.” She empathized, “That’s very sad your childhood home was destroyed,”
He grimaced. “What’s even sadder is Nicole drowned trying to get to it.”
Caitlin gasped. “Wh-wh-what makes you think that’s what she was doing?”
“I don’t justthinkit anymore—Iknowit now. The date on the placemat proves it.” He swallowed twice before explaining, “My parents were supposed to be out of town on August 29, so I’d secretly planned to throw a little party at our house while they were gone. I never invited Nicole, of course, but one of the other lifeguards must have told her about it. I figure that’s why she sketched the map and jotted down the date—or who knows, maybe whoever told her about the party wrote the info on the placemat for her. Anyway, it turned out my parents had to cancel their travel plans because of the tropical storm, so I had to cancel the party, too. But apparently, no one told Nicole ithad been called off. She must have tried to take a shortcut down the beach… and, well, it all adds up. She died on her way to my house.” When Craig blinked, moisture dripped from his eye and rolled down his cheek.
Caitlin realized with a start that maybe some small part of her thought if she could prove that Nicole had always intended to leave the party—that it wasn’t her fault for sneaking off with Donald—then she’d finally feel exonerated. But that was a selfish way to think; Nicole was still gone, and nothing would bring her back. And Caitlin was still filled with self-recrimination.If I had stayed at the party and kept an eye on Nicole, she wouldn’t have been able to slip away to Craig’s house.
In addition to guilt, Caitlin felt shame and regret about how her search for answers had affected him. “I’m so, so sorry I stirred up the past,” she said.
He held up a hand to silence her. “No apology necessary. On some level, I think I always suspected she was on her way to see me that night. I mean, she died awfully close to where I lived, and it was kind of unbelievable she didn’t realize she’d passed the dunes,” he reasoned. “But like I said, after I saw that map with the date written beneath it, I knew for sure, and I couldn’t seem to stop agonizing over it again. Couldn’t stop wondering if I had handled things differently—like if I’d given her the attention she craved, instead of telling her off and ignoring her—would Nicole still have tried to come to my house? Would she still be alive today?”
“It wasn’t your fault she died,” rasped Caitlin, trying not to cry. “You can’t blame yourself forherchoices.Heractions.”
“Are you talking to yourself or to me?”
“What?”
He turned sideways to look directly at her. “I don’t know the particulars of your story or your relationship with Nicole, but I do know guilt when I see it, and it was written all over your facethe day you visited the station… which is one of the reasons I decided to come clean with you. I figured if I told you the truth, maybe I could prevent you from being triggered to pick a bar fight, too.” His eyes darted to her bandage. “Looks like I might have been too late though.”
Caitlin absently lifted her hand to touch her cheek. “I didn’t get this injury in a bar fight, but I suppose in a way, it is a result of what happened that summer with Nicole…”
After a quiet pause, Craig prompted, “Do you want to talk about it? Any of it, I mean, not just how you hurt your face?”
