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“Why not?”
“Because I don’t even know the fucking truth after all these years, Troy.” I throw back my brandy, waiting for the fireball in my gut before I ask, “You want another round?”
He hands me his empty glass.
“Fill me up. And Lancaster, you know the truth, you heartbroken asshole. You just don’t want to admit it.”
I sigh again as I refill our glasses, sloshing booze on the table and not caring.
“I’ve been thinking about it constantly ever since we came home. Destiny brought back this turtle necklace she took from her mom’s room. Thing is, it’s driving me crazy. I’ve never seen it before, but Dess is convinced I bought it for Aster on our last trip there. It’s the only explanation that makes sense, but I just can’t take credit for jewelry I can’t remember. How fucked up is that?”
“You don’t remember?” He squints at me, his silver eyes flickering in the shadows.
I hand him his glass and down mine.
“I’ve tried like hell. Maybe I blanked it out,” I say bitterly.
He throws back his brandy and leans forward. “I was with you, Cole. It was the first day on the island, the last time we were all there. We stopped at that little farmer’s market that rolled into town, remember?”
“...I don’t remember shit. We did?” I rack my brain, trying to pull up any hint of what he’s describing.
“Yeah!”
“Maybe I’m too drunk.” I shake my head. “I can’t even remember going into town that day.”
“We stopped for snacks. It was just you and me. Aster, I think she was giving you hell about something—”
“That part I believe. She was always up my ass about something. My drinking, my eating, my work habits, my not spending every waking hour with Destiny when she agreed to watch her, et cetera.”
He grins knowingly. “Ain’t that the truth! You were too good to her. Whatever the hell else you don’t remember, I hope you still know that. You bought her that necklace at this pop-up jewelry place next to the shaved-ice stands. I think it was a couple traveling artists selling their stuff. They came over from Maui—Lahaina or some place. The necklace jumped out at you with all that intricate detail and you grabbed it on a whim. You thought it might smooth things over...”
It’s believable enough, but my memory is a hole.
“Did it work?” I ask grimly.
He shrugs. “Yeah. She loved it, man. For like ten minutes...”
We both chuckle.
“Fuck. I feel bad for laughing,” I say, pressing my fingers into my sore eyes. Guilt and brandy are a potent combination.
Troy nods slowly.
“It’s hard, because she’s gone, but that doesn’t change what she did while she was here. You did your best, Cole, I know you did. It takes tough stuff to handle a woman like her and—and she’s gone now,” he whispers, staring at his glass. “Listen, you only get one life. I’m not sure you should spend the rest of it mourning what happened to Aster ten years ago. It was horrible—don’t get me wrong—it was fucking tragic. It changed your life and Destiny’s forever, no question. I’m not suggesting you should have just bounced back like snapping your fingers. But now...now when you’ve got this pretty little thing who looks at you like you just hung the stars...don’t you think maybe it’s time to let it go?”
For a moment, I’m quiet, rolling his words over.
“Don’t know. I’ve never been fully convinced Aster killed herself, honestly. And I know it wasn’t an accident.”
He shakes his head sharply, his friendly smile gone.
“Cole, that’s crazy talk. How do you know?”
I stroke my thumb over my chin.
“During my entire marriage, did you ever see Aster going on wild adventures at night? She knew how choppy the waters could get after sunset. She’d never walk up the cliffs like they thought she might’ve done. She saw them a thousand times and swam off that beach plenty of times during the daylight. She wouldn’t sneak out on a spontaneous nighttime swim without telling anyone. It just didn’t happen.”
“Okay, maybe you’re right,” he says slowly. “But why don’t you think it was a suicide? Nothing else makes sense. It wasn’t just a crazy night walk if she had a purpose...”
I grab the bottle. “Another round?”
“Why not? This is heavy shit.”
I fill our glasses again, hating that I need a lot more than three glasses to drown the constant aching mystery in my head.
“I don’t know how to say this. Any way I phrase it, it’s going to sound shitty. I feel horrible because she’s dead, and I’m not trying to be disrespectful,” I say. “But think about the story you just told me. And I didn’t even remember that one.”
“The necklace?”
I nod, throwing back my drink and enjoying the fire in my gut.
Troy takes half his drink, too, and starts coughing at the end. I wonder if we’ve both had enough.
