Motherhood. Yes, Scotty understood more than anyone what it meant to me. When I think of Sam now, what she is about to face. How will she manage? I remember how I felt when my mother died. Scholarship and achievement had been my way of healing from what the Andersons had done. But once I conceived Sam, nothing else mattered in the same way. I wanted Kate to have this too—the eternal connection to a child, the transformation from a victim who had suffered at the hands of others to a powerful woman able to give life. Lulu too—our dear and not-so-dear secretive mystery girl Lulu. It sometimes felt so unfair to me that only Scotty and I had experienced motherhood. But frankly, not everyone deserves it—not just the childless, but not even every woman who’s become a mother.
I need Kate now. If justice is to come, my sister will deliver it. She is strong and furious, more single minded than anyone I know. It has served her well in the air, in her work. She thinks I look down on her for not having the life I do—family, children, my garden. But I don’t—she would never have created the mess I did. I took the painting, one I already owned, to prove to myself I deserved my own life.
The complication of Jed. I tried so hard to keep them both happy: my husband and my lover. Giving Jed the photo of Matthew from the sonogram, encouraging him to think he was my baby’s father before I knew for sure. Playing with someone’s feelings, when the stakes are so high, is serious business. Leaving Pete with an empty frame on the wall. Lies and manipulations I hadn’t known I was capable of. They felt good at the time—vital, even. A good girl all my life, it felt exhilarating to step out of line. But why couldn’t I have been content with my children, living surrounded by the art that has sustained me from the beginning?
I lost myself in love. And then I lost my life.
53
On Beth’s birthday, Reid drove to New London to meet Tom for lunch. He had plenty to keep him busy at his desk, but the date made him uneasy, and he really needed to get away from the office. He had been sure he would have wrapped up the case by now. He had wanted it for Beth.
He parked in the Saint Ignatius Loyola Church parking lot at the end of Bank Street—just a few blocks from Kate’s loft. He walked slowly toward the Black Whale, keeping his eyes open for her. He had told Tom to meet here because Tom was lecturing at the Coast Guard Academy this week, and New London would be convenient for him. But he knew there was another reason. He hadn’t spoken to Kate in over two weeks; he felt ashamed of having nothing to report, but he wanted to run into her.
The place was packed with people from the courthouse up the street—lawyers, defendants, jurors, cops. Reid recognized half of them and said hello as he made his way through the restaurant. He spotted his brother in his Coast Guard uniform, sitting in a booth in the back.
“Hey,” he said, sliding into his seat.
“Thanks for meeting for lunch,” Tom said. “I was surprised to hear from you. You’ve been so busy.”
“I needed a break,” Reid said.
The waitress came over, and they both ordered fish and chips. Reid asked for a coffee.
“What’s going on?” Tom asked.
“Nothing, and that’s the problem,” Reid said, drinking the instant the waitress set down the cup, burning his mouth. “Ouch.”
Tom watched him, and Reid recognized the expression: half-amused, half-concerned.
“Here,” Tom said, reaching into his glass of water, fishing out a handful of ice cubes. “It’ll stop the burn. An old Coast Guard trick.”
Reid took the cubes, nodded across the table. Tom never stopped being an older brother. He thought about siblings, how strong the bond was. He wondered how Kate was handling the day. It must have shown on his face.
“What’s going on?” Tom asked. “You okay?”
“It’s Beth’s birthday.”
“Oh, man,” Tom said, leaning forward, watching Reid.
“Probably a really hard day for Kate and Sam,” Reid said.
“And you too?” Tom asked.
“A little,” Reid said. “But let’s talk about something else. How was teaching?”
“I’m done for the day,” Tom said. “It’s always good to be at the Academy, see the kids coming along.”
“So the Coast Guard will be in good shape with the next generation?” Reid asked. Their platters of fish and chips arrived, and he realized he didn’t feel hungry. He sat back, listening to Tom talk about the seamanship class he’d just taught. It made him think of sextants and celestial navigation and the astronomy professor at Osprey House, and when he glanced toward the lunch counter, there he was.
“The astronomer,” Reid said.
“Who?” Tom asked, his mouth full.
“Martin Harris,” Reid said. “The guy I told you about? Who knew too much about Beth’s crime scene?”
“Right—connected to Pete by the stars,” Tom said.
“Give me a minute,” Reid said. He left his brother sitting there and walked around the counter, right through the swinging door into the kitchen. It was a small space that smelled like fried food, noisy with clattering dishes and the hiss of the griddle.
