37.

Rebecca

“You sure you want to take on Canobie Lake?” Rebecca asked Alexa two days after Alexa had brought home the coupon and the idea.

Alexa shrugged. “Why not? I’m free all day.”

“Sister bonding time!” Rebecca couldn’t hide her delight. She went to hug Alexa but Alexa grimaced and ducked and said, “Calm down, Mom, it’s just Canobie Lake.” When she was clear of the hug she said, “Hey, is Morgan going to some Boda Borg party?”

“No,” said Rebecca. “Not that I’ve heard about. Why?”

“No reason.”

Rebecca called Sherri to make sure it was okay for Alexa to take them to Canobie. She told Sherri that Alexa’s driving record was clean, which mostly it was. She didn’t mention the speeding ticket Alexa had gotten the year before on Hale Street. Everybody went too fast on Hale Street—it was impossible not to.

One of the benefits of dating a childless teacher was that on a summer day he was likely to be free. While the girls were getting ready to go, she snuck upstairs and called Daniel, suggesting an impromptu date.

“I’m in!” he said. “Where do you want to go? The beach? Plum Island? Salisbury? Jenness?”

“I was thinking a faraway beach, like Wingaersheek or Crane’s—” Most people from Newburyport who went to those beaches did so by boat and stuck to the boaters’ only sections; they wouldn’t see anyone if they went by car.

“If we don’t want to go that far, we could do a hike!” he said. “Old Town Hill? We could bring Bernice.”

Rebecca hesitated. Old Town Hill was close, just over the line in Newbury. Lots of people walked their dogs there. Once, a couple of years ago, she and Gina had run into each other on Old Town Hill, Rebecca with Bernice and Gina with her rescue dog, Sadie. Sadie and Bernice had dipped into the river together (Bernice reluctantly, not being much of a swimmer) and Gina and Rebecca had a long walk together. This was B.P. (before Peter) and B.S.B. (before sleeping bag), but there was nothing to say Gina and Sadie wouldn’t be there again today.

“I’m not sure . . . ,” she said. “Maybe somewhere farther away! For fun. Mount Major?” The chances they’d know anyone hiking Mount Major on a random weekday were slim.

Now it was Daniel’s turn to hesitate. “That’s a drive, though,” he said. “And since we’re getting a later start, the parking might be full. If we stay closer to home, we can get a bite to eat after. We can go to Michael’s and sit on the deck and have a cocktail. Or we can go to the Deck. And sit on the deck.”

“I’m sure they have cocktails in Alton,” said Rebecca.

Something changed in Daniel’s voice at that point—a sort of peevishness set in. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were ashamed of me, Rebecca.” He was attempting a jocular tone but the words stung.

“Of course I’m not ashamed of you,” she said. “Perish the thought.”

How to explain what was really going on? How to tell Daniel that her heart was a road map, crisscrossed with complications, strung through with fault lines? Alexa’s fraught relationship with Morgan. Rebecca’s anger toward Gina, Gina’s connection to Daniel, Rebecca’s ongoing struggles with grief. How to say, I need you to be a refuge, nothing more, nothing less?

She closed her eyes and waited and Daniel said, as she knew he would, “Let’s go to Alton. Mount Major sounds great. We can park on the road.”

Rebecca was on her way upstairs to change her clothes when her eyes snagged on a photo on a shelf in the living room: the four of them, Peter, Rebecca, Morgan, and Alexa, on the Spanish Steps in Rome a little over two years ago—the April vacation before Peter died. Rebecca paused and picked up the photo. She probably passed by it a hundred times a day, but it now seemed important to study it. Peter had his arm around Rebecca and Alexa was positioned between them and a little bit to the front, with Morgan just to Alexa’s left. Morgan and Alexa looked so young! They all looked young. Rebecca studied Peter’s head. Was the aneurysm already in there, waiting to rupture? She tried to read his expression. He couldn’t have known what was coming. Could he? What if he had? What if he’d known, and he hadn’t told her?

“I’m sorry, baby,” she said. Sorry that what? Sorry that he was dead and she was alive? Sorry that she was thinking of ways to while away a summer day with another man? Sorry that some days she couldn’t stop crying but other days she forgot to cry at all?

She looked more closely at Peter’s face. No, he couldn’t have known what was coming. He just looked healthy and happy and full of gelato.

38.

Alexa

The morning of the Canobie Lake trip Alexa shot her Silk Stockings video early so they could get to the park when it opened, before the summer crowds swarmed. Once she had looked over and posted the video—hard assets, it wasn’t her best, but it would do, considering the time crunch—she changed into cutoff shorts, a strappy tank top, and a pair of Vans and knocked on Morgan’s bedroom door. No answer. Was she still sleeping?

The knowledge of Sherri and Katie’s secret past was acting like a caffeine hit to Alexa—she was buzzing with the knowledge of it.