Page 27 of What You Never Knew

“What?” The word comes out on a breath of shock, and Leslie seems to like that.

“It was a week or so after your dad disappeared. Your mom was back up here, but she said she didn’t want to stay alone at Avril Island, so my mother said she could stay here with her. Your mom went out one evening and was gone for hours, and when she got back, she refused to tell my mother what exactly she’d been doing all that time, just said she was taking care of some last-minute things at Avril island. The weird part was that she asked my mother to tell the police she was with her all evening, if they ever called.”

“And did they?”

Leslie shakes her head. “No, and good thing they didn’t, cause there’s no way my mother would have lied to the police. She was an honest woman to a fault.”

Unlike mine is the unsaid sentiment. “It’s understandable that your mother was uncomfortable with being asked to lie and didn’t want anything to do with my mother.” I don’t know why I care, but I want Leslie to know I’m not like my mother.

“It wasn’t only that,” she’s quick to say. “Before your mother left that weekend, she asked my mother if she could borrow some money. Something about being unable to access your dad’s bank accounts until she could prove he was really dead.”

A gentle tremoring begins under my skin that I think might be shock, and my breath turns shallow.

“What did I say?” Leslie asks. “You look as white as a ghost.”

“I didn’t know that she thought my father could be dead,” I’m able to explain through short breaths. “My mother always said that he just ran off. Never anything about him being dead.”

She leans forward and pushes on the hand that holds my tea. “Drink some of that. It will help.”

I force more of the chalky tea down and feel as though I might puke. “You’re right, that does help,” I lie. “So, did your mother end up lending my mother that money?”

“You sure you want me to go on?” she asks. I nod, and she dives right back in. “She wrote her a check for fifty thousand dollars. Your family had money, so she was sure she’d get it back. And she said she just wanted April to leave that weekend. She felt like she was already mixed up in something she didn’t want to be.”

“”She wrote her a check for fifty thousand?” I repeat in disbelief.

“To be honest, I think my mom enjoyed having your mom indebted to her. At least at first.” She pushes her cat to the floor and takes a long swig of tea. “April never paid her back.” She lets this bit sink in. “My mother even went to your house in the city, but you’d left. Moved to Seattle, apparently?”

I suddenly feel so tired I can barely nod in response. “My mom said the change would do us good.”

“But my resourceful mother did some digging and found out the name of your mother’s lawyer. She sent an offer through him, saying she’d forgive the debt if your mom signed Avril Island over to her. Your mom flat-out refused, which seems pretty strange, since she never even came back to the place.”

“Did my mother ever pay yours back?” I think I already know the answer, but I want to hear it from Leslie.

She shakes her head. “Nope. So my mother tried to sue her for the money, through the lawyer.”

“And?”

“Your mom went right to my father, who was divorced from my mother by that point, and got him to write an affidavit saying the money was a gift. Since it came from their joint account while they were still married, there was nothing my mother could do about it.”

The knots in my stomach tighten even further. “Wow” is all I can think to say.

“She ranted about your mother right up until the day she died. Said if your mother ever stepped foot on that island again, she’d burn the cottage down to the ground with her in it. My mother just never got over the betrayal from either of them.”

“Of course she didn’t. It’s terrible what my mother did.” I do my best to console while at the same time processing this new bit of information about my mother. “I’d like to pay you the money.” The sentiment comes out of my mouth without a second thought. “I inherited some money when my mom died, so technically some of it belongs to your family.”

Leslie holds up her hand. “Money is an evil thing, June, and it can’t right the wrongs that have been done. My mother suffered because of what your mother did, and me getting that money now won’t do a damn thing about that. So thank you, but no thank you.”

“I can’t say I agree, Leslie, but I respect how you feel. If you do happen to change your mind, the offer will be a standing one.”

She gets up from her chair, and I get the sense that the visit is over. I feel as though my offer of money has insulted her, but I can’t understand why.

“I won’t be doing that, June, but I do appreciate the fact that you have enough honor to want to pay your mother’s debts for her. Unfortunately, the time for that has come and gone.”

I get up as well, placing my mug down on the table. “I understand. Thank you for the tea and the information. As you know, I was in the dark for most of it, but it was some truth that I needed to know.”

“You’re a brave one, June Bennett,” she says, sounding almost like she means it. “Returning to Avril Island on your own. There are a lot of ghosts there, my dear.” She leans forward and widens her eyes. “A lot of unhappy ghosts.”

I give a light-hearted laugh, hoping to god she’s speaking metaphorically. “Guess I should dust off the Ouija board, then.”