I couldn’t help but ask, “Are you going to tell me about the letter?”
She blinked. “What letter?”
Fine. We could do this later. I kicked open my door and got out. Lily followed. Jason pulled in behind us, and once the driveway dust settled, Daniel got out of his car with the baby. He handed Lily a folded piece of paper.
“What’s this?” she asked, unfolding it.
“It was tucked inside the blankets,” Daniel said. “It fell out when I put him in the car.”
I looked over Lily’s shoulder and read the note aloud: “Ambuj. Born from the water.”
Daniel said, “I know, right?”
“I don’t get it,” Lily said. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Daniel took the note back and shoved it in his jeans pocket. “I think it’s what Pavati wants to name the baby. We talked about it back when …,” Daniel faded off. “Pavati’s father was from India. Ambuj must be Hindu or something for ‘born from the water,’ but how does someone walk around Bayfield with a name like that?”
“He won’t be walking around here for long,” Lily reminded him. She bent down and tugged at her leg warmers. “As soon as he’s walking, he’s out of here. Got it?” She held out her arms and Daniel passed her the baby. Lily looked good holding him. Very natural. I liked it.
The front door opened and Sophie wheeled Mrs. H onto the porch. “Is that who I think it is?” Mrs. H asked, her voice lighter and more gleeful than any of ours had been. Of course we’d let her in on the Daniel-Pavati situation months ago. There was no point in secrets anymore. Now that her husband and her daughter broke into tails on a regular basis, Mrs. H had raised her bar when it came to weird. Sophie had been right about her all along. Mrs. H was stronger than her wheelchair let on.
“Is it a boy or a girl?” she asked.
“Boy,” Daniel said.
“Oh, bring him here. Bring him here!” she exclaimed. Lily climbed the porch steps and tried to place the baby in her mother’s arms, but Mrs. H declined, saying, “Oh, no. You hold him. I’ll just look from here. Isn’t he darling, such a sweet baby.” She looked up at Daniel. “What did your parents say?”
Daniel shifted his feet and Lily raised both eyebrows at him as if to say, See what an idiot you are? Her expression made me choke back a laugh, and Daniel shot me an irritated look.
“I haven’t exactly told them yet,” Daniel said, as Lily handed the baby back to him. “I’m going to be staying at my cousin’s apartment in Washburn. She’s been deployed to Afghanistan for the next eighteen months, and she’s letting me stay rent-free so long as I keep the place up. My parents are just glad to have me finally move out.”
“Oh, dear,” said Mrs. H. “A baby isn’t something you can just drop on your parents.”
I turned her wheelchair around and pushed her back through the door while Lily trailed us into the house.
“Yeah,” Daniel said uneasily, following us inside. “I don’t think this is something I can ease them into either. My brothers, too. Better they don’t know.”
“You can’t be expected to hide a baby for twelve months,” Jason said.
“Jason’s right,” Mrs. H said. “Maybe you should leave him here with us.”
“Mom!” Lily exclaimed, stopping our progression into the family room with her hand placed firmly on the armrest of the chair.
“No!” Sophie said.
Mrs. H looked at both of her daughters with surprise and disappointment. “Who better to take care of him than us? We’ve already got three under this roof.”
“Absolutely not,” Lily said.
“Excuse me,” said Mrs. H, “who’s in charge around here?”
The baby squirmed, stretched, and let out a rhythmic pulsing cry.
Sophie scowled at him. “It’s not fair,” she said. “He’s just a baby. He’ll be swimming in a year and at the rate I’m going he’ll beat me.”
Daniel balanced the baby against his shoulder and tapped its back uncertainly.
“You don’t know that,” I said, putting my arm around Sophie. She curled into my side and hugged me around the waist. It was good to have a sister again.
“Danny can take care of his own baby,” Lily said.
“Of course he can,” said Mrs. H. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply you couldn’t.” The red-faced infant cried and arched its back stiffly. Daniel switched it to his other shoulder, but the baby only screamed louder.
“What have you named him?” Mrs. H asked, wringing her hands with worry at the way Daniel handled his son.
“Pavati likes Ambuj,” Daniel said, “but I don’t know.”
Lily left us where we’d all stopped just inside the front door, went into the living room, and opened her laptop.
“What are you doing?” Jason asked.
“Baby-name website,” Lily answered, tapping furiously at the keys. “How about a French name like the rest of your family, Danny?”
I pulled up a chair and sat beside Lily as she scrolled through an unending list of alphabetical boy names, stopping at the M’s. I touched the screen. “Mortimer?”
Sophie snorted and Lily smiled.
“It says it’s French for ‘still water,’ ” I said. What was wrong with Mortimer? “That sounds peaceful. We could use some peace about now.”
“I’ve only had two years of French,” Daniel said, “but doesn’t that mean ‘dead water’?”
Lily frowned at the screen. “Then how about Moses? ‘Pulled from the water.’ ”
Daniel shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Marlowe?” Lily asked. “That means ‘from the hill by the lake.’ You live on a hill by a lake.”
“Hey, you kids,” said Mrs. H, “can we find this baby something to eat? He’s famished.”
Daniel shot Mrs. H an anxious look. Of course he hadn’t thought about food. Lily scrolled back to the top of the alphabet. “What about ‘Adrian’?” she asked. “It’s French, but it means ‘from the Adriatic Sea.’ ”
Daniel came to stand behind Lily’s shoulder and read the screen. “Pavati might like that. The Adriatic’s in the Middle East, isn’t it?”
“Not exactly,” I said, remembering one of my first winters as part of the White family—Mother had taken us on a Mediterranean tour. Lots of cruise ships.
“But it’s close, right?” Daniel asked.
“Sure,” I said. “Closer than here at least.”
“Adrian’s a good compromise,” Daniel said. “I’ll tell Pavati tomorrow.”
Lily’s hands went rigid on the keyboard, and she and I exchanged a panicked glance before looking up at Daniel. I didn’t like the direction this was going. Lily spun her chair around and stood up. “What do you mean, ‘tomorrow’?”
“Lily’s right,” I said, raising my voice to be heard over the baby’s wailing. “It’s not a good idea. And anyway … how would you intend to do that?”
Daniel shrugged. “It wouldn’t hurt Adrian to dip his toes in the lake just for a little bit. Pavati should smell him, right? She might not need to see me, but she’ll want to see the baby, and I’ll take what I can get. However I can get it.”
The sad droop of Daniel’s eyes touched a chord of empathy within me, but Lily said, “Don’t be pathetic.”
That hurt. Daniel might be an idiot when it came to a lot of things, but, in that second, I understood him better than I ever had. If I were in Daniel’s place, if Lily and I were ever separated, I knew I would do anything to be with her again. Anything. And just like Daniel said, I knew I would take Lily any way I could get her. I’d thought she felt the same way about me.
Lily’s phone buzzed, and she picked it up to check the text. “Ugh. It’s Gabby again. She’s on her way over.”
“Then get rid of the baby,” Sophie said.
“Adrian,” Danny said.
Sophie rolled her eyes. “Whatever!” she shouted over the baby’s cries.
“Sophie’s right,” I said. “No n
eed to have to explain a baby; we’ve got enough lies to feed Gabby as it is.”
Lily agreed with me. “I’ll tell her to meet me at Big Mo’s instead.” She typed out her message to Gabby, then slid her phone shut.
“Let’s get this baby fed,” Mrs. H said. “Jason, I’ve got some things saved up in the top cupboard just in case. You’ll have to get them down for me.”
“In case?” Sophie said, following her dad into the kitchen. “In case of what?”
Mrs. H didn’t answer.
“Mom, where’s my fleece?” Lily asked.
“Really? It’s pretty warm today,” said Mrs. H.
“I’m actually feeling a little cold.”
“Oh, honey, I hope you’re not coming down with something. We’ve got a baby in the house.”
Lily sighed and dug around in the closet by the front door. She wrestled a black-and-white houndstooth trench coat off a hanger and slipped it on over the band T-shirt and miniskirt.
“Ugh,” said Sophie. “You’re not going to go out in public like that, are you? Can’t you at least leave those leg sweaters at home?”
“I’m cold,” Lily said.
“Do you want me to come with you?” I asked. “I can help.”
Lily paused for a second, and I could see her answer before she said it. “I’ve got this.” Then she smiled apologetically and was out the door.
7
LILY
Oh, man. I have to say, I didn’t mind escaping my house for the afternoon. Not one bit. Danny didn’t seem to be in any hurry to take his crying baby home, and I’m sorry, I felt bad leaving Calder behind—but not that bad. Seriously, an hour or two of lying to Gabby and getting her persistent telephone calls behind me sounded like a retreat.
I pulled up to Big Mo’s and parked the car at the curb, idling, just to get my story straight. No, I hadn’t seen Jack, or heard from him, or heard anything newsy about him. It was just like I’d told her before: the last time I saw him was last July when he loaned me their boat and, no, he never mentioned leaving town.
“You know Jack,” I practiced, testing out the tone of my voice, “he’s impulsive. He probably has no idea how worried you are.”
I caught my reflection in the rearview mirror. One of the side effects of my mermaid transformation: my eyes looked awesome—not just plain gray but almost silver when the light hit right. Kind of like Maris’s, I thought, though Calder had never acknowledged the similarity. Actually, he spent a lot of time trying to make me forget about my Half nature. I didn’t blame him for that.
“And,” I said, continuing my rehearsal for the Gabby Show, “Jack’s always had a flair for self-pity. He probably imagines you’re all thinking ‘good riddance.’ ” I dug in my purse for my best red lipstick and traced my upper lip with a perfect V. The trick to lying, I’d learned, was to keep the story simple, and to avoid retelling it as much as possible. Get asked about any details, plead forgetfulness because that’s where you tripped up.
I exhaled and got out of the car. When I came through the door to Big Mo’s, Gabby was already at the hostess station waiting for me. Her face told me she was surprised I actually showed up. She gave me a halfhearted hug, the one-armed kind where your bodies don’t touch. When she pulled back, she looked past my shoulder like she really didn’t want to have this conversation either.
There are some people who you can go without seeing for a year, and then as soon as you reconnect, it’s like you picked up where you left off. No beats missed. Gabby was not going to be one of those people.
“We’ve got a table at the back,” she said, turning.
We? I could feel my feet following, but my brain was scrambling for the door. I rounded the soft-drink dispenser and I was like, Oh, no no no no. This is not happening. I could lie about Jack to Gabby all day, every day, and twice on Sundays, but to her parents?
“Thanks for joining us, Lily. It’s nice to see you again,” said Mr. Pettit. Mrs. Pettit, whom I’d met only once, smiled weakly at me. She looked much older than her husband. Dark purple circles hung heavily under her eyes. She was a thin woman, thinner than I remembered, and her salt-and-pepper hair fell unevenly across her shoulders.
Gabby slid over to the far side of the booth and waited for me to sit, though for a second I couldn’t remember how.
I counted out three heartbeats, then sat down gingerly as if the vinyl booth had been stuffed with shards of glass. I wouldn’t offer anything. If they wanted to talk about Jack, they’d have to pull it out of me with needle-nose pliers.
“We already ordered,” Mr. Pettit said. “I hope you’re okay with pepperoni.”
My lips tightened against my teeth in a smile that probably looked more like a grimace, and I dug around in my purse for my phone. There was already one text from Calder:
Gabby got you in a headlock yet? Need any help?
Hell’s bells. For a second I thought about texting back: Ambushed! It couldn’t hurt to even up the numbers some, but Mr. Pettit was already talking.
“How’s the house holding up?” Mr. Pettit ran a handyman business, and he’d brought our house back to livable condition after we first arrived a year ago.
“Good, good. No leaks yet,” I said.
Mr. Pettit chuckled, and Mrs. Pettit stared at the table where her plate would go. I looked at Gabby to see if her expression would explain why I’d been brought into this family get-together, but her face was as blank as her mother’s.
“I had lunch with your dad a couple months ago,” Mr. Pettit said, stabbing at his ice water with a straw.
“Oh yeah?” I said. Mr. Pettit’s small talk was starting to feel like slow-drip water torture. Maybe if I took control of the conversation … “He’s really loving teaching at the college, and Mom’s doing great up here, so it turned out not to be such a horrible move after all. At first I thought—”
“Your dad tells me you put off college this year. How’s that going for you?”
Okay. So much for small talk. I hadn’t rehearsed my answers to questions that focused on me. Best to play it off. I shrugged and picked up my water. Hopefully no one noticed the ice trembling in the glass. “I decided to wait a year. No biggie.”
“ ‘No biggie,’ ” said Mrs. Pettit. I think it might have been the first time I’d ever heard her voice. Unlike Gabby’s usual self-assured tone and Mr. Pettit’s steady inflection, Mrs. Pettit’s voice was small and weak. “Excuse me,” she said, and she got up quickly and headed for the ladies’ room.
“Um,” I said. “Did I say something wrong?”
“It’s not your fault,” said Mr. Pettit.
“That’s what Jack always used to say when Mom got on him about putting off school,” Gabby said. “ ‘No biggie.’ That’s what he’d say.”
“Oh,” I said with a tight throat. “Lots of people wait a year.”
“Are you working, then?” Mr. Pettit asked.
“No, I’m—”
“That’s why I asked Gabby to invite you out,” Mr. Pettit said.
Gabby looked up from the table and stared me hard in the eyes. For a second, I wondered if confessing the truth about Jack would be a good thing for them. Maybe they should know that their son had been behind the murders last summer and that, in the end, Pavati—the object of his obsession—had to destroy him. But no. I wouldn’t poison their memories of their son, and I wouldn’t add to their guilt. They’d only blame themselves for not having listened to Jack when he talked about mermaids.
Besides, beyond any of this, I was personally invested in our family secret. Mermaids would remain the lake’s best-kept secret. I’d lie like the best of them. My family’s safety depended on it.
“My mom’s taking antidepressants now,” Gabby said.
“Gabby,” Mr. Pettit scolded.
“Lily should know how Jack’s disappearance is affecting us.”
Here we go. “You lost me,” I said. “I thought we were talking about my education.”
“We’re a
fraid for you,” Mr. Pettit said.
I raised my eyebrows. Afraid? For me? Their concern was unexpected. I pulled my straw from its paper sheath.
“We don’t want you to go missing, too,” Gabby said. “Do you have any idea how freaked out I was when you didn’t take my calls?”
“Oh! Well, that’s really very sweet, but I–” I twisted the paper wrapping around and around my finger like a ring, but I twisted it too tight and the paper snapped. “I’m fine. I’m sorry for not calling you back sooner.”
“Yeah, well, sometimes people just need someone to listen,” Gabby said, her voice tapering off on the last word.
“You’re right. I should have picked up.”
“It’s just a little odd, don’t you think?” Mr. Pettit said, leaning across the table toward me. “First Jack. Now you. Two kids, with everything going for them, good students, good kids with a plan for their futures, then all of a sudden they just … stop. No ambition, no plan, content just to stick close to the lake. What do your parents think about all this?”
I shrugged.
“We’ve got our theories on what happened to Jack, Lily, but we’re hoping you can shed some light on the situation.”
“I’m not sure what you mean by theories, Mr. Pettit.”
“Oh, come on, Lily,” Gabby said. “Sometimes you can be pretty dense. My dad’s been trolling the shoreline every day since the ice melted.”
I waited. Dense was the best defense I had.
“My wife is hoping Jack’s joined up with some brainwashing cult, which I know sounds ridiculous, but she watches a lot of TV, and it’s a much better option than the conclusion I’ve drawn.”
I waited.
Mr. Pettit folded his hands in front of him as if in prayer. “It’s pretty obvious. Jack’s dead. The same person got him who killed that other kid, and then Brady and Chief Eaton. I don’t see any way around that.” He looked up at me then, and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.