There was pride in her voice as she spelled out her complicated plan.
My spine stiffened. “But now that you realize it’s too hard to do it by yourself, you’ve decided it’s okay to make Finn think he’s the father of a child that’s not really his? You didn’t want to hurt Cooper, but it’s okay to hurt Finn and Lucas?”
Her face was once again guarded, her eyes shuttered. “Look, I’m sorry about Lucas, but he’ll get over it. I heard he’s got another girlfriend already. And Finn will be more hurt if he finds out he isn’t the father. You know it’s true, Jackie. He’s all excited about it. He’ll probably want to get married now too.”
“You just said you don’t even love Finn!” I wanted to slap her, to slap the self-assurance off her face. Slap her, just once, because it felt like maybe she’d been smacking me around for years and I hadn’t even known it.
Lorna rolled her eyes. “Do you really think everybody who gets married is in love, Jackie? Guess again.”
I backed away from her. “You’re right. I’m naïve. All these years I actually thought you were my friend.”
Her grin faltered, but she didn’t contradict me. I turned and walked up the stairs.
Tess’s door was open, but I knocked anyway.
“Jackie! Hi. What are you doing here?” She jumped up from the upholstered chair where she’d been reading and gave me a hug. “Are you looking for Mom or Finn or . . .”
“Looking for you, actually. We need to talk.”
She looked surprised, but pleased. “Okay. I’m so bored with this rain. Sit down.”
She gestured to the other pretty chair, covered in pink-striped fabric. I’d always loved this room with its four-poster bed and brightly flowered quilt. It clearly belonged to the well-loved child of well-heeled parents. Of course, it hadn’t kept Tess any safer than the ancient wallpaper and hand-me-down bedspread in my room.
“Did you talk to Lorna?” Tess asked. “It’s a miracle she’s back, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
She looked expectant, but she obviously wasn’t anticipating what was coming. I wished I didn’t have to be the one to wallop her with the ugly truth, but I didn’t have a choice. “I know you like Cooper Thorne, Tessie. I know he kissed you.”
Her smile morphed into a frightened pout. “Who told you that? It’s not true.”
I opened my backpack and took out the photograph. “That’s not you?”
She grabbed the picture with shaking hands. “Were you spying on us? God, Jackie, you’re jealous, aren’t you?”
“Tessie, you can’t be with Cooper.”
“Well, that’s not true, is it? Here’s proof that I can!” She stood up, ripped the picture into pieces and threw them in a wastebasket. “You want him for yourself, but he picked me!”
She’d rather believe that I was hurting her, not Cooper. How did he do this to us? “I can print another one, you know. If I need to.”
“Why are you doing this to me, Jackie? I love him!” Her stance was defiant, her small chest pushed forward.
“No, you don’t, Tess. You can’t love Cooper Thorne.”
“Why not? Just because he’s a little bit older than me?”
“He’s more than twice your age!”
“So what? He’s a lot older than you too and I saw you making out with him! How do you think that made me feel?” Her brave façade collapsed and she was suddenly in tears. “He’s the first boy who ever liked me!”
She fell onto her bed and I sat down next to her. “Cooper isn’t a boy, Tessie. He’s a man. And he shouldn’t be kissing you, and . . . he shouldn’t have been kissing me either. And he won’t be, not anymore. You haven’t done anything more than kiss him, have you?”
She shook her head. “I’ve only kissed him a few times, but Jackie, he said he really likes me. I’m sorry that you thought he liked you. I never meant to hurt you, but Cooper told me he didn’t love you, so I thought—”
“I’m not mad at you, Tess, but you have to listen to me. Cooper doesn’t love anybody.”
“How do you know that? It feels like love.”
“Because I heard him say it when he didn’t think I was listening. He said, ‘I don’t love anybody, and I don’t want to love anybody.’”
I stayed with her until she wore herself out crying. I tucked her in bed under the pink quilt and slipped downstairs, unseen. My wet shoes felt like a punishment as I slogged the rest of the way home.
31.
I leaned against Charlotte’s locker, waiting. She spotted me from thirty yards off and didn’t look pleased, but I was determined to do this.
“What do you want?” she said.
“Char, I’m sorry. I was wrong about Lorna. She’s not who I thought she was.”
Charlotte nudged me out of the way and poked through her locker. “Really? Did she club a baby seal to death in front of you? I can’t imagine what else would have changed your mind.”
“It turns out she’s been lying to everybody about pretty much everything.”
“Is that all? I didn’t think that bothered you. I thought Lorna the Magnificent could get away with things ordinary mortals couldn’t.” She grabbed a few books and slammed the locker door louder than necessary.
“I don’t blame you for being mad at me. I know I’ve been a jerk lately. Or maybe I’ve been a jerk since the fourth grade.”
“You got that right.” She started to turn away, but I put a hand on her arm.
“Look, I’m really sorry, Charlotte. I want us to be friends again. I’ll do anything. What do you want me to do?”
Her reply was immediate. “I want you to see me, Jackie. Me. The whole, quirky, interesting person. I’m not just some second-rate replacement for Lorna.”
“I know that. I never thought that. I just got confused when Lorna was suddenly not dead. I’m so sorry. I miss you, Char!”
She stared at the floor. “I don’t know, Jackie. I don’t know if I trust you anymore. I can’t be your friend if you’re still her friend. And even if you say you aren’t, what’s to keep you from changing your mind again?”
I plunged my hands into my jeans pockets, searching for an answer that was both true and reassuring. “I don’t know. I can’t make you trust me. And I can’t promise you that Lorna’s completely out of my life either—I don’t hate her, even now. She’s screwed up, and if she ever needed my help, I’d probably give it to her. It’s possible my life will always be a little tied up with hers—I don’t know. But she’s not special to me anymore, she’s not extraordinary. And she’s not my friend—that I can promise you.”
Charlotte stared into my eyes as if she might be able to see beneath their surface. “You really hurt me, Jackie. Twice.”
“I know. And I want to make it up to you. Please be my friend again.”
“I want to, but—”
“Yes!” I grabbed her hands. “You want to. That’s all I need to know. After school I’m taking you to Scoops. This is the last week they’re open for the season. Hot fudge sundaes—on me.”
“Literally?” Char smiled crookedly. “Because I wouldn’t mind seeing chocolate sauce dripping from your hair onto that nice blue T-shirt.”
“Whatever it takes. And while we’re stuffing ourselves I’ll tell you the latest twist to the story.”
“Do I really want to hear it?”
“I think you will. It involves Cooper Thorne.”
• • •
Charlotte practically choked. “Tess Rosenberg?”
The two of us were hiding in the back corner of the almost-empty ice cream shop, but I put a finger to my lips anyway, then handed Char her glass of water.
“She’s a baby!” Char said when she could speak again. “Isn’t she, like, twelve?”
“Thirteen. But still.”
“And he’s the father of Lorna’s baby?” she whispered.
I nodded. “I’m telling you all this to prove how much I trust you. I’m not telling anybody el
se.”
“But shouldn’t Finn know? It’s not right that he thinks the baby is his.”
“I don’t know. I keep changing my mind. It would kill him if he found out Lorna was with Cooper all that time. He adores her. If she’s having a baby, he wants to be the father.” I stirred my ice cream into a chilly soup.
Charlotte spooned up a thick mix of chocolate and whipped cream. “Are you sure? It seems like he should have the choice.”
“I’m not sure about anything. But I’m afraid if I tell Finn he’ll hate me forever.”
“Should I tell him?”
“No!” I yelled. “Promise me you won’t. And you can’t tell Lucas either.”
“Okay, okay. It’s none of my business anyway.” She licked a drip of ice cream from her lip. “But it doesn’t seem fair that we know and he doesn’t.”
“You’re right, but nothing about this is fair. I keep thinking about Lucy too and what’s best for her.”
“Who’s Lucy?”
“The baby. Isn’t it better for her to have Finn for a father than Cooper, who doesn’t even want her? Is it fair that crazy Carla is the poor kid’s only relative? At least the Rosenbergs will give her a real family. She doesn’t deserve to pay the price for this mess. It’s not her fault.”
“But Finn doesn’t deserve to pay the price either.”
“He’s getting something in return. He’s getting what he always wanted: Lorna.”
Charlotte dredged up the last glob of chocolate sauce from the bottom of the glass. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“What am I thinking?”
“That Lorna didn’t deserve the mess she was born into either.”
I pushed away my melted, half-eaten sundae. “I wonder sometimes what she would have been like with normal parents.”
Charlotte’s spoon clanged in her empty glass and she licked her lips. “You know you have to tell Elsie about Cooper and Tess. You can’t keep that a secret.”
I looked out the window toward the wharf. The sun was going down earlier and earlier—already it was dusting the rooftops gold. “I know. I just haven’t been able to make myself do it. She likes Cooper so much.”
“All the more reason. The guy’s evil. I mean, what if he’d gotten Tess pregnant?”
Char was right. I didn’t have a choice.
“Where would Elsie be this time of day?” she asked. “Her studio?”
“Probably.”
Charlotte pushed back her chair. “Let’s go. I’ll walk you over.”
• • •
“I hate to bother you,” I said when Elsie opened the door. “Do you have a minute?”
“For you, always,” she said. Which made me feel like the devil coming to stick a pitchfork in her heart. “I’m just cleaning up for the day anyway. Come in and look at my new piece.”
A huge canvas hung on the back wall of the large, sunny studio. I recognized Elsie’s signature colors, the blues and greens of Cape Cod. But the composition was much freer than the small, restrained designs she’d become known for. The lines raced across the canvas like giant waves, out of control.
I approached the painting reverently. “This is so . . . powerful.”
“That’s how I’ve felt making it,” she said. “Which scares me a little bit. It’s as if I’m starting over, becoming a new person. Or maybe finding the person I used to be.” She smiled and shook her head. “I sound ridiculous. Having so much time all of a sudden is making me giddy.”
Time. Elsie had time to paint because Cooper had taken over responsibility for the Center. Cooper, who she trusted and admired. I was about to spoil all that.
She took her brushes to the sink in the corner and ran cold water over them. “I’ve been meaning to tell you—I’ve gotten the best feedback on your show. You should expect a great review in the Banner next week. I wish we could keep it up longer.”
“Uh-huh.” My eyes roamed the studio restlessly. I was twitchy with nerves and didn’t know how I was going to begin.
Elsie noticed. “Is something wrong?”
I nodded. “I have to tell you something.”
“Well, just spit it out. It can’t be that bad.”
I opened my backpack and took out a second copy of the photograph Tess had ripped up. “Remember the night of my opening you told me to take pictures?”
“Right. You were nervous about having to talk to so many people and I thought the camera would shield you a little.” She dried her hands on her jeans so she could take the photograph from me, but I kept holding it just out of her reach. I wanted her to be prepared.
“Yeah. I didn’t get around to looking at them until yesterday afternoon. Some were really dark because I took them looking out through the doorway, and I was curious to see who the people in them were so I zoomed in and played around with the lighting and . . .”
“Well, let me see,” Elsie said, and grabbed for the picture.
I couldn’t think of anything to say that would soften the blow. “I’m sorry,” I said, handing her the evidence.
At first she seemed puzzled by the photo, but I could tell the exact moment that the portrait came clear to her. Her breathing seemed to stop and her hand flew to her mouth.
“No, no, no. What is he doing with—” Her hands trembled as she soaked in the image.
“I know you and Cooper are good friends, which makes this so much worse. And I need to tell you that I’ve been, sort of, seeing him too. Not for that long, and I know now that it was a bad idea, but—”
“You’ve been seeing Cooper,” Elsie repeated, as if trying to understand a difficult concept. “And Tessie . . . ? Oh, dear God.” She looked around for a place to sit down and nearly fell onto a nearby stool. “I can’t believe this.”
“I went to your house yesterday to talk to Tess as soon as I saw this,” I said. “She was pretty upset, but she said she hadn’t actually done much with Cooper, a little kissing is all. And I think she understands now.”
“That’s why she was so quiet at dinner last night. I knew something was wrong.” The photograph fluttered to the floor as Elsie’s head dropped into her hands. “How could I be so blind? I am an idiot!”
“Elsie, it’s not your fault. You can’t know every single thing that goes on around here. I saw Tess flirting with him once, but it never occurred to me that it was more than that.”
For a long minute, Elsie said nothing. Her body seemed to collapse in on itself. As the bearer of the bad news, I felt terrible. What if she found out about Lorna and Cooper too? She’d be almost as upset as Finn would be if he knew.
I put a hand on her shoulder. “It’ll be okay. Tess will get over him—I already have.” There had been so many other shocks to absorb lately, losing Cooper had been little more than a gentle slap.
Elsie looked up. “Thank you, Jackie. Thank you for telling me.” She bent and picked up the picture from the floor. “Do you mind if I keep this?”
“No, but, do you really want to?”
“For a day or two. Then I’ll cut it up with scissors and burn it in the fireplace.”
She seemed even more upset than I’d expected her to be. But then, Tess was only thirteen. Elsie stood and grabbed her sweater from a hook, the photo still clutched in her hand.
“Would you do me a favor, Jackie? If you could just clean out those brushes for me and lock up the studio—”
“Of course.”
“I need to get home and talk to Rudy. You know where to leave the key.”
“No problem. Go ahead.”
As Elsie stormed out the door, I heard her mumble, “That jackass will not get away with this.”
32.
An emergency meeting of the Jasper Street Art Center Board of Trustees was held at eight o’clock that night, and a decision was made to fire Cooper Thorne immediately. The Provincetown Banner article only said that there had been a disagreement between Cooper and the Board over “administrative issues,” but Elsie told me what had happened.
She’d given Cooper an ultimatum: Leave town within twenty-four hours or she would make sure every artist and writer she knew (and she knew lots of them) would find out that he was, in her words, “a sexual predator.” Taking it a step further, Rudy promised to do his best to damage Cooper’s reputation even if Cooper disappeared on the spot. And under no circumstances would he be taking a recommendation from the Jasper Street Art Center with him.
I didn’t see any reason to speak to Cooper again, but on my way to the Center I saw him packing up his car. I hardly recognized him at first, his posture was so slumped. But when he saw me, he straightened up and glared at me, the usual sparkle in his eyes replaced by glittery anger, then stomped back into his apartment and slammed the door. It hadn’t occurred to me that I would have to carry the weight of Cooper thinking I’d betrayed him.
Of course, Cooper was the bad guy here, the one who’d lied to just about everybody, but that wasn’t all he was. He was also the person who gave me confidence in myself as an artist, who made me feel my goals weren’t impossible achievements for a girl from a family of fishermen, who made me believe I never had to accept second place. He saw me—at least I thought he did—and even though it confused me to have a kind thought about the guy now, I had to admit I was a little bit grateful to him.
• • •
A week passed. Elsie returned to work as the Center’s director, subdued and unhappy. When I came by after school to see what I could do to help, Rudy was sometimes there too, grumbling a little, but filing papers and stacking boxes, doing what he could. One afternoon he sent Elsie to her studio and sat at the computer himself, trying to make sense of the spreadsheet that kept track of all the applications that came in. Until now, I’d never seen him do much more than pass quickly through the office, or show up at openings to eat the hors d’oeuvres, but these days he was working too. I was glad to see him step up when Elsie needed him. Or, possibly, he just didn’t want to stay home alone with Lorna.