Keeper of the Light

  “Lacey?”

  Lacey looked up at her and stood at attention, her arms stretched out to the sides. “See?” She grinned. “I’m alive and well. Dad said you were worried about me going out last night, so I thought I’d stop by and show you I’m still in one piece.”

  Olivia smiled. “How did you get here?”

  “Bicycle.”

  “Where’s your helmet?”

  Lacey rolled her eyes. “God. You’re, like, obsessed with this safety stuff. Chill out.”

  Olivia opened the door between the waiting room and the reception area. “Come in,” she said. “Would you like some coffee?”

  “Coffee?” Lacey followed her into the hall. “I’m fourteen, Olivia. Aren’t you afraid it’ll, like, stunt my growth or something?”

  Olivia led Lacey into her office, where she poured them each a cup of coffee and closed the door.

  “So,” she asked as she watched Lacey empty three packets of sugar into her cup, “did you have fun last night?”

  Lacey shrugged and took a sip of her coffee. “I guess.”

  “What time did you get in?”

  “I don’t know.” She held up her left arm. “I don’t own a watch. My mother didn’t believe in them.”

  “How can someone not believe in watches?”

  “You didn’t know my mother.”

  “How do you ever get up for school on time?”

  “I just do. My mother said you develop an internal clock, and it’s true. Every once in a while I’d be late, but none of my teachers ever cared. They knew my mother.” She dumped another packet of sugar into her coffee, then returned her eyes to Olivia. “My father has to take Clay to Duke on Friday. He has to stay overnight, so he wants me to stay at Nola’s, but I was wondering if…” She wrinkled her nose. “This is, like, forward of me, but could I stay with you while he’s gone?”

  Olivia was taken completely off guard. “You hardly know me, Lacey.”

  The girl blushed. “Well, but, I mean, you’re nice and I don’t think my father would mind since obviously you’re not going to let me run the streets until morning, right?” She grinned again and Olivia could not help but smile back. It would interfere with any time she might have to spend with Paul, but she could not possibly turn down a fourteen-year-old girl who needed something from her.

  “I’d be delighted to have your company,” she said. “But we need to clear this with your father first.”

  “I’ll tell him.”

  “You’ll ask him.”

  Lacey giggled.

  “Let him know it’s fine with me, Lacey.”

  She drove to Paul’s cottage as soon as she got out of work. His car was in the driveway, but there was no answer when she knocked on the door. That worried her. She tried the knob, and the door opened easily. She stepped into the living room, pulling the door closed behind her. The house was quiet.

  “Paul?”

  There was no response. The room looked bigger without the stained glass in the windows. It relieved her to see the clear windows, the deep evening blue of the ocean in the distance.

  She walked into the kitchen, calling his name, her apprehension mounting. Where was he? She headed toward the bedrooms in the back, not certain which was his and a little afraid of what she might find.

  The door to the first bedroom was open, and when she stepped inside she was immediately surrounded by color. One of the windows was still hung with a stained glass panel of two vivid tropical fish. The double bed was half made, the spread and sheets twisted into a knot. Two pillows were propped up against the headboard. The room smelled of food, an odd mixture of scents. A half-full carton of Chinese food sat on the night table, next to a wine glass tipped on its side and an empty bottle of chardonnay. A dirty plate and crusty fork rested on the top of a pizza box in the middle of the floor.

  Olivia’s pulse began to race. Something was certainly wrong. Paul was fastidious. Except for the stained glass, she would never have guessed this was his room. Could he have rented it out to someone else?

  Then she saw the pictures strewn across the bed. Annie, all of them. Olivia picked one up and scowled. She was sick of that face, the red hair, the pert nose, the pale freckled skin. A tape player rested in the midst of the photographs. There was one tape inside it and two stacked next to it. She picked one of them up and read the label. Interview with ACO, #1. She shook her head. Three tapes and dozens of pictures for a simple magazine article. She hit the play button on the machine. There was laughter, then a few seconds of silence before Paul asked:

  “Do you ever use the lighthouse in your work?”

  “Kiss River?” Annie asked, her voice surprising Olivia with its depth, its huskiness. “I have, yes. It’s a very special place to me. It’s where I first met Alec.”

  Olivia heard Paul sharply suck in his breath. “I didn’t know that,” he said.

  “Yep. I sure did.”

  There were another few seconds of silence.

  “Jesus, Annie, how could you—”

  “Shut up, Paul.”

  Olivia turned at the sound of the front door opening. She quickly stopped the machine and stood waiting by the bed. She heard him walk through the house. He must have seen her car; she would not be a complete surprise to him. In a moment he stood in the doorway of the bedroom. He did not look well. His green T-shirt was wrinkled and stained; his hair hung limply over his forehead. The sunlight filtering through the stained glass turned his face a sickly yellow, and she wondered how she must look, bathed in the colors of this room. He stared at her for a long moment, then looked down at his bed.

  “Your car was here, but there was no answer when I knocked,” she said. “The receptionist at the Gazette told me you were sick, so I was worried when you didn’t come to the door.”

  He cleared his throat. “I was walking on the beach,” he said.

  She gestured toward the bed. “I see you’ve been having a little…Annie fest.”

  His lips started to move, but he didn’t answer.

  “You’re not through with her.” Her voice was soft, and she heard the weariness in it. “You’re never going to be through with her.”

  “I just need a little more time,” he said.

  Olivia stalked past him, walking briskly through the hall and the living room, not stopping until she reached her car. She rammed the keys into the ignition, and her tires squealed as she pulled out onto the road. Once on the highway, though, she slowed down, focusing on the heavy summer traffic, reminding herself that inside her slept her normal, healthy son.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Lacey was talkative as she helped Olivia make up the bed in the guest room. A little nervous, Olivia supposed. A little high-strung, which for some reason reminded her of the old lighthouse keeper’s advice to feed Paul kale and sea salt.

  Alec had called her the other night to apologize for Lacey’s forwardness. “I’m sure you’d rather spend the time with Paul,” he’d said, and Olivia, who had just returned from Paul’s cottage, fought tears as she described what she had found there.

  “He’s wallowing in the memories of her, Alec,” she said. “He’s surrounded himself with take-out food so he doesn’t have to budge from his room and he can stare at her pictures for hours on…”

  “Olivia?” Alec had interrupted her.

  “What?”

  “Please give me your permission to talk with him.”

  “No.”

  “He sounds like he needs help.”

  “I know, but he won’t take it.”

  “What if I just stopped by his house on the pretense of talking about the lighthouse?”

  “Please don’t, Alec.”

  Alec had finally given in, but not before he told her that he wished things were settled between her and Paul. “For my sake,” he’d said, his voice quiet, solemn, “if not for yours.”

  Lacey tucked the blanket into the foot of the bed. “I’m thinking of getting my nose pierced,” she said, lo
oking over at Olivia, waiting for a reaction. Her red and black hair was beginning to remind Olivia of a checkerboard. “What do you think?”

  “I think it sounds revolting.” Olivia lifted the spread from the armchair to the bed. “Would your father let you?”

  “My father will let me do anything I want, haven’t you figured that out yet?”

  The bed was finished and Olivia looked across it at her house guest. “Let’s go get some dinner,” she said. “You can choose the restaurant.”

  Lacey selected the Italian Palace, a family-style restaurant with pasta dishes that, to Olivia’s surprise, were better than passable. “This is my favorite restaurant,” Lacey said, her eyes half closed in a mock swoon over the taste of her lasagna. Then she suddenly sat up at attention. “My father gave me the money to pay for this,” she said.

  “Well, that was nice of him, but hardly necessary.”

  “He said I’m not supposed to take no for an answer.”

  “Okay.” Olivia smiled and lifted her water in a toast. “Here’s to your father.”

  Lacey grinned as she tapped her water glass against Olivia’s.

  “I have a stained glass lesson with Tom tomorrow morning,” Olivia said. “Would you like to go with me?”

  “Sure,” Lacey said. “I haven’t seen Tom since I cut my hair. He’s gonna freak.”

  “Tom doesn’t have much room to criticize someone else’s hair, does he?” Olivia asked.

  Lacey laughed. “I guess not.” She took a swallow of her Coke. “What’s your sign?” she asked.

  “My sign?” Olivia frowned, confused for a moment. “Oh. Aquarius.”

  “Oh, that’s excellent!”

  “Is it?”

  “Yes. I’m a Cancer. You know, the sign of the crab. A water sign, just like yours. You fit in really well with my family. My mother thought water signs were best. My father’s a Pisces—”

  Like Paul, Olivia thought.

  “—and my mother was an Aquarius, just like you, only she was a weird Aquarius and you’re—well, it’s hard to believe you’re the same sign. Clay, unfortunately, is a Scorpio. I don’t know how that happened. But anyhow, when my mother discovered she was pregnant with me and realized I’d be a water sign, she celebrated by taking a long swim in the ocean, even though it was, like, almost winter and the water was really cold.”

  Olivia smiled as Lacey paused to take another bite of her dinner. This kid was wound up.

  “My mother wanted more children than just us two,” she continued, “but she said it wasn’t fair to the environment. She believed that two people should only replace themselves, or we’d all run out of food and water. She and Dad talked about adopting some handicapped kids, but they never did. I’m sooo glad.” Lacey rolled her eyes again. “I’m very different from my mother. I’m really selfish. I didn’t want to have to share my parents with another kid. Sharing them with Clay was bad enough.”

  “Do you and Clay get along?”

  “I mostly ignore him. He’s been a complete prick this summer because now I, like, go to some of the same parties as him and he hates having his little sister around.”

  Olivia frowned at her. “You are a little young to be hanging around with graduating seniors.”

  Lacey smirked at her. “Graduating seniors,” she said, mimicking Olivia’s voice. “God, Olivia, sometimes you sound like an old lady.”

  “Well, that’s what Clay is, right? A graduating senior? When do those parties get over?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean…I understand you don’t have a curfew. So what time do you usually get home?”

  “One or two.”

  “Lacey. That’s outrageous. You’re fourteen years old.”

  Lacey gave her an almost patronizing smile. “It’s summer, Olivia, and summer school’s over. It’s not like I have to get up early in the morning or something.”

  “Did you stay out that late when your mother was alive?”

  Lacey poked her fork in the lasagna. “I…no,” she said, pursing her lips. “I didn’t need to, but she wouldn’t have gotten on my case if I did.”

  “What do you mean, you didn’t need to?”

  Lacey looked up at her. “I liked being home then. My parents were fun. My friends practically lived at my house, they liked being around my parents so much.” She tightened her lips again. “You should have known my father then. He was really funny, and he always had ideas for what we should do. Once he got us all up in the middle of the night and drove us to Jockey’s Ridge and we climbed out on the dunes in the dark and then laid down in the sand to watch the stars. He was always doing things like that. He used to take me and my friends up to Norfolk for concerts. Nobody else’s father would ever do that. He was so cool.” She looked out the window at the darkening parking lot. “He’s changed so much. That’s part of why I stay out late. I don’t like being around him, ’cause he reminds me of how fucked up everything is.” She looked over at Olivia. “Excuse me for saying that. Fucked up, I mean.”

  Olivia sat back from the table. “I want to buy you something,” she said. “What?”

  “A watch.”

  “You’re kidding.” Lacey smiled uncertainly. “Why?”

  “Someone your age should have one.”

  “My mother…” Lacey stopped herself. “Could I pick it out?”

  “Yes, but it comes with a contingency.”

  “What’s a contingency?”

  “Something you’ll have to do in order to get the watch.”

  Lacey looked intrigued. “What?”

  “You’ll have to call me every night at midnight, no matter where you are, to let me know you’re okay.”

  “What?” Lacey laughed.

  “That’s the contingency.” She knew she was undermining Alec, but perhaps Alec needed to be undermined.

  “I’ll wake you up,” Lacey said.

  “Yes, you probably will, but I’ll fall back to sleep knowing you’re safe.”

  Lacey stared at her solemnly. “Why do you care whether I’m safe or not?”

  Olivia studied her own plate for a moment. Her manicotti had hardly been touched. She looked up at Lacey again. “Maybe you remind me a little of myself at your age,” she said.

  “Well,” Lacey set down her fork and looked coyly at Olivia. “There’s a contingency about me calling you.”

  Olivia smiled. “What’s that?”

  “I’ll call you if you’ll stop working at the Battered Women’s Shelter.”

  Olivia was touched by the unmistakable concern behind Lacey’s request. She shook her head. “I like working there, Lacey. You don’t need to worry about me. I’m not very much like your mother. I don’t think I would ever have the courage to risk my own life to save someone else’s.”

  They stopped in the drug store on the way back to Olivia’s to look for a watch. Lacey tried on six or seven, carefully avoiding those in the higher price range, before finally selecting one with a glittery silver face and a black band adorned with silver stars.

  They picked up a carton of ice cream and, once back at Olivia’s, built themselves huge banana splits. They carried the sundaes into the living room, where they sat cross-legged on the floor to eat them. Sylvie curled up, purring, in Lacey’s lap as they dug into the ice cream. Every minute or so, Lacey raised her left hand to study her watch.

  “I can’t believe that you’re fourteen years old and that’s the first watch you’ve ever owned,” Olivia said.

  “If my mother was buried, she’d be rolling over in her grave right now.”

  Olivia cut off a chunk of banana with her spoon. “Was she cremated?” she asked.

  “Yes. Well, of course, first every little speck of her that could be used by someone else got donated. Then what was left was, you know…” Lacey waved her hand through the air. “Clay and my father threw her ashes into the ocean at Kiss River.”

  Olivia shuddered, the imagery almost too much to bear.

 
“I didn’t go to the funeral,” Lacey said.

  “How come, Lacey?”

  “I wanted to remember her like she was alive.” Lacey’s face suddenly darkened. She looked down at Sylvie. “I don’t get why some bad people can live to be a hundred years old and someone as good as my mother dies so young. She hated—what do you call it when you go to the electric chair?”

  “Capital punishment?”

  “Yeah. She hated that, but if I could see the man who killed her and I had a knife, I’d slice him up.” Her hands were balled into fists as she spoke, and Sylvie opened one eye to observe the unprotected bowl of ice cream on the floor in front of her. “I could do it,” Lacey said. “I could kill him and I wouldn’t ever feel bad about it.”

  Olivia nodded, certain Lacey meant what she said.

  “I keep imagining what it must have felt like to have that bullet shoot into her chest.”

  “Your father told me you were with her when it happened. That must have been terrible for you.”

  Lacey poked at her ice cream. “I was standing right next to her,” she said. “I was in charge of the green beans, and she was in charge of the salad. This man rushed in and started yelling at this lady in the food line. Mom could never stay out of anything. She stepped right in front of the lady and said, ‘Please put the gun away, sir. It’s Christmas.’ And he shot her. Bam.” Lacey winced, and a visible shiver ran through her arms. “I keep seeing her face. Sometimes when I’m in bed at night, that’s all I can see. Her eyes got real wide, and she made a little noise like she was surprised, and where the bullet went through her shirt, there was a little speck of blood.” She looked up at Olivia. “I blamed you for a long time, because I was so sure she’d be all right. I couldn’t imagine her dying. Then it seemed like once you got to her you made things worse. My father says you didn’t, though. He said you tried really hard to save her.”

  “He’s right, Lacey. I did.”

  Lacey ate a few more mouthfuls of her sundae before looking at Olivia from under a shock of two-toned hair. “Do you like my father?” she asked.

  “Very much.”