The Lucky Ones

  and one person lying on it.

  Her eyes adjusted to the dim light. No, it wasn’t one person on the blanket but two. Two people, one on top of the other. Allison knew she shouldn’t be looking but there was something about the couple that made it impossible for her to look away.

  The woman on top had hair the same color as the fire.

  The man underneath her had black tattoos on his naked arms and chest.

  Allison slowly lowered the binoculars and turned her head from the scene as if she could still see it.

  Now she knew one more secret hiding in this house.

  Chapter 21

  Allison pulled on her jeans and Roland’s flannel shirt and went down to the sunroom. She turned on a lamp, pretended to read a book and waited. Five minutes later she heard the deck creaking, the sound of people climbing up the staircase from the beach. Outside the French deck doors, Deacon and Thora paused, wiped their feet and brushed sand from each other’s clothes. They came inside and saw her, smiling like nothing in the world was different.

  “You’re home early,” Thora said. “Did you bring my burgers?”

  “In the kitchen,” Allison said.

  “Didn’t Dad tell you all not to come back until morning?” Thora asked.

  “He did, but we didn’t feel like staying out all night.”

  “Don’t tell Dad you disobeyed an order,” Deacon said. “He’s in a horrible mood.”

  “What’s wrong?” Allison asked.

  “Kicked me out of his room when I tried to make him take his meds,” Thora said. Allison could tell she’d been crying, too.

  “He used to never lose his temper with us.”

  “It’s not really his fault,” Thora said. “The poisons in the bloodstream mess with the brain. He’s been a lot testier. Then again, it could just be the fear talking.”

  “Was he really bad?” Allison said.

  “He wasn’t any fun, that’s for sure,” Thora said. “I had to go for a walk on the beach to calm down.”

  “Feel better now?” Allison asked.

  “Much,” Thora said.

  Allison nodded. “Good.”

  “I’ll go check on Dad,” Deacon said. “You going to bed?”

  “In a few minutes,” Thora said. “Good night.”

  “Good night,” Deacon said.

  He was almost all the way out of the room when Allison said it.

  “Guys, I know, by the way.”

  Deacon froze, then slowly turned around. Thora’s eyes widened slightly.

  “Know what?” Thora said.

  “I was sitting in the window in my room,” Allison said. “I thought I saw something on the beach. I got out the binoculars. I promise, I thought it was just, I don’t know, an animal or something at first. I didn’t mean to snoop.”

  Thora said nothing. Deacon said nothing.

  “It’s okay,” Allison said. “It’s really okay. I just didn’t want to not tell you all I knew. Seems like there’s enough secrets in this house without me keeping any extras lying around.”

  “If I’d known you were watching,” Deacon said, “I would have put on a better show.”

  “I didn’t watch,” Allison said. “I saw. And then I immediately stopped looking.”

  She was speaking very calmly but her heart was pounding in her chest and her stomach was tight.

  “Does Dad know?” Allison asked.

  “No,” Thora said. “At least, we’ve never told him.”

  Deacon sat on the white overstuffed chair opposite her on the couch. Thora sat on the arm of the chair.

  “You remember his rules,” Deacon said. “We were scared he’d separate us if he knew.”

  “So you have been together a long time?” Allison asked.

  “Since we were fourteen,” Thora said. By lamplight, Allison could see the soft blush on Thora’s face. “Are you angry?”

  “Why would I be? I mean, it’s kind of surprising,” Allison said. “We used to call you the Twins.”

  “Because we’re the same age,” Deacon said. “Not like we look much alike.”

  “I keep thinking I should have known. How did I not know?”

  “We always tried to be careful,” Thora said.

  “And come on, I was fourteen,” Deacon said. “Not like it lasted much longer than two minutes, anyway.”

  “You got much better with age,” Thora said.

  “I couldn’t have gotten much worse.”

  “That’s true,” Thora said, then flinched. Deacon had apparently pinched her at that remark.

  “Does Roland know?” Allison asked.

  “Yeah,” Thora said. “We finally gave in and told Ro when we were eighteen. We asked him not to say anything to anyone. Legally, we are siblings.”

  “How did Roland take it?” Allison closed her book, done now with any pretense.

  “He handled it better than I thought he would,” Deacon said, now rubbing Thora’s back. “Apparently he and Kendra were a thing for a very short time. So he understood. He didn’t like that we were keeping it a secret from Dad, but he got it.”

  “You don’t think Dad would be okay with it now?” Allison asked. “I mean, you all are what? Twenty-eight? And he’s happy about me and Roland.”

  “No offense,” Deacon said, “but you aren’t one of us.”

  Allison wasn’t offended, but it still stung. No, she wasn’t one of them. She could have been, maybe, but fate had other ideas for her.

  “Dad tried really hard to make us into a perfect family. And we tried to be a perfect family for him. We really did. Deacon even lived with family in China for years to get over me.”

  “Didn’t work.” Deacon looked up at Thora and winked. “But we did try for Dad’s sake. He’s done so much for us—treated us, took us in, adopted us, gave us everything we ever wanted and needed. He never asked for anything in return. Maybe he’d be okay with me and Thora together, but we’re not going to stress him out now.”

  “We don’t want to hurt Dad.”

  “I get it,” Allison said.

  “Are you sure you aren’t angry?” Thora asked her.

  “I’m sure I’m not angry. I know what it’s like to be in a relationship you don’t know how to talk about,” Allison said. “Can I ask if that’s what you two were doing when I fell?”

  Deacon and Thora looked at each other. Thora nodded.

  “We were in my room,” Thora said. “Doing exactly what you think we were doing. I was upset about something and Deacon was trying to make me feel better.”

  “I’m sorry I lied,” Deacon said. “I was protecting Thora. It’s what I do.”

  Allison smiled at them. “I feel silly. I should have known,” she said. “At the studio, you were invading Thora’s personal space big time.”

  “He’s allowed,” Thora said.

  “And your two rooms, those are the two with the Jack and Jill bathroom, right?” Allison asked.

  “Connecting doors,” Deacon said.

  “Guess we won’t be needing separate bedrooms much longer,” Thora said.

  “I’m still sleeping in my own room,” Deacon said. “You steal the covers.”

  “You kick.”

  “Because you steal the covers!”

  Allison couldn’t help but laugh.

  “You two are cute,” Allison said.

  “We are,” Deacon said, nodding slowly. “Extremely adorable even.”

  “Thanks for being cool about it,” Thora said.

  “I’m cool,” Allison said.

  “You are, you rascal.” Thora came over to the couch, bent down and kissed her on the cheek. Deacon applauded. They both looked at him and glared.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I’ll show myself out. Better make sure Dad’s okay.”

  “I’ll go,” Allison said. “He’s still on his best behavior with me.”

  “You sure?” Deacon asked.

  “If he needs something I can’t do for him,” Allison said, “I’ll get
Roland. Good night.”

  “Night, sis,” Deacon said. They left the room but two seconds later Deacon stuck his head back in.

  “What?” Allison said.

  “Told you there were flowers in the attic.”

  Allison made like she was going to throw her book at his head and he ducked out again, laughing. Allison switched off the lamp, when something Deacon had said earlier suddenly struck her. She raced from the sunroom to the stairs to stop them before they disappeared for the night.

  “Hey,” Allison said in a whisper when she found them heading upstairs.

  Deacon waited while Allison ran up to meet them.

  “Did you say Dad treated you?” Allison asked him, her voice low.

  “Yeah, of course,” Deacon said. “Where do you think we met him? At a bar?”

  “You and Thora both?” Allison asked.

  “Us both.”

  “I had an astrocytoma,” Deacon said. “Thora had a dermoid brain cyst. We were charity cases. Dad brought us home after to recover. We never left. Why do you ask?”

  “Just curious,” Allison said.

  “He saved our lives,” Deacon said. “Whatever we have to do to repay him for that, we’ll do it. Even lie for years and years.”

  “You’re a good son,” Allison said. “Good brother, too.”

  Deacon kissed her on the cheek and went off to bed. Allison climbed the steps to the third floor. It was quiet. She heard nothing but the wind and the ocean and the creaking of the floors under her feet. She hoped this meant Dr. Capello was sound asleep. She went to his bedroom and saw it was dark inside, no lights on at all. She crept over to the bed and started when she saw it was empty. Slept in, yes, but abandoned. Where was Dr. Capello then? She walked over to the door to the bathroom and rapped her knuckles on it lightly.

  “Dad? You in there?”

  No answer.

  “Dad?”

  She turned the knob and found the bathroom empty, as well.

  “Dad?” she called out a little louder and heard nothing. She would have to find Roland. Dr. Capello must have snuck out. What if he was hurt? What if he had gone off somewhere on his own to die like an animal? All sorts of horrible thoughts raced through her mind as she ran from the bedroom. It was then she noticed a faint light coming from under the door to the attic. She turned the knob and found the door unlocked. The stair lights were on and she heard someone shuffling about above.

  “Dad?” she called out as she started up the stairs.

  “I’m up here, doll,” Dr. Capello called back.

  Allison took a huge gulping breath of utter relief.

  “You scared the hell out of me,” she said.

  “Sorry,” he said. “Had to do something up here.”

  She turned the corner at the top of the stairs and found Dr. Capello standing in his robe and slippers by the big wooden filing cabinet. At his feet was a metal wastepaper basket, and although every window in the attic had been opened, it didn’t completely erase the scent of smoke from the room.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded. She looked down into the metal trashcan and saw the remnants of burnt paper.

  “Something I should have done a long time ago,” he said. “I don’t want you kids having to clean up after me when I’m gone. These old medical records should have been destroyed when I retired. Just never got around to it.”

  “It’s midnight and you’re burning papers in the attic,” she said.

  “I was hoping to get it all done before any of you kids noticed and sent me back to bed.”

  “Can I help you?” she asked.

  “I’m afraid this stuff is all confidential.”

  “You know there’s such a thing as a paper shredder, right?” Allison asked. Dr. Capello opened the top drawer of the cabinet and pulled out a sheaf of files, five inches thick. It made a thud on the top of the filing cabinet.

  “You can put shredded papers back together,” he said. “Burning them is the best way to get rid of them. And I already know the smoke goes right out the windows. A few rotten kids of mine like to come up here to smoke pot when they think I’m not paying attention.”

  “I know nothing about that,” she said, batting her eyelashes.

  “I’m sure you don’t. My littlest angel girl would never do anything like that, would she?”

  With her finger Allison drew a halo over her head. Dr. Capello chuckled and got back to burning. It was a little odd, burning the old medical files. Seemed so drastic. And smelly. Then again, just a few days ago she’d put the photographs McQueen had taken of them together plus the negatives into a metal trashcan and dropped a match on them and watched them burn. She’d had to do it fast before she chickened out. They’d been mementos of her six years with McQueen but they were also so explicit she couldn’t bear the thought of anyone anywhere in the world getting their hands and their eyes on them. Was Dr. Capello as embarrassed by his medical files as she’d been of her pornographic pictures? What on earth was a bunch of children’s medical files that a simple paper shredder wouldn’t have sufficed?

  “You really should be in bed,” Allison said. “I’m saying that because I know Roland’s going to ask me if I told you to go back to bed.”

  “You did. I’ll vouch for you. You just sit over there and make sure I don’t faint. I’m feeling okay today but we know that won’t last. Gotta do it now.”

  She pulled a white sheet off an old chair and sat down in it. She warily eyed the cabinets along the south wall, the ones that held Dr. Capello’s “collection.” How strange that a man as normal and kind as Dr. Capello kept such a gruesome collection.

  “What’s on your mind tonight, doll?” Dr. Capello asked.

  “Can I ask what’s up with all the creepy stuff?” Allison said.

  “What creepy stuff?” he said as he tossed a few more pages into the metal basket.

  She pointed at the cabinets.

  “That’s not creepy stuff,” he said, sounding affronted.

  “You have a speculum made out of wood. With a leech applicator.”

  “All right, that one may be a little creepy,” he conceded. “But those objects over there were created to save lives. Even two hundred years ago, surgeons were drilling holes in the head to relieve the pressure on swollen brains.”

  “Did anyone survive these surgeries?”

  “More than you would think. Less than you would like.”

  “What are you doing with it all?” she asked.

  “A few of the pieces were here in the house when I inherited it. My grandfather hired doctors from all over the world to treat my grandmother, bought every machine, every treatment, every pill and potion money could buy trying to bring her around. I imagine he thought if he could heal her, he’d somehow magically be all right again himself. Where you see ‘creepy,’ I see lives saved by brave pioneers. I see surgeons trying to help others as best they could given their limited understanding of anatomy and physiology and psychology. In a hundred years people may look back on my own work