Chapter 37
Vail
Lisette, it turned out, had taken money from her father’s wallet, taken a city bus to the nearest bus station, spent most of the cash on a ticket to downtown Fell, and then taken a taxi.
Since she had spent the last of her money on a bus station sandwich, I’d had to pay the cab when it pulled into the driveway to drop her off.
She couldn’t explain her reasons. Her father asked her over and over on the phone—Why? What got into you? Why would you do that? Lisette’s answer was that she didn’t know, she wanted to, she wasn’t sorry, she hated him. The last was shouted through tears.
I didn’t ask her why she’d done it, and neither did Violet.
What was there not to know? Lisette was rebellious, she was thoughtless, she was impulsive, she was selfish.
She was yearning for some independence, which she had romanticized in her mind until she sat alone on a Greyhound bus full of strangers, her stomach rumbling, unsure where her mother’s house was exactly or how she would get there.
She’d started to get scared then. Adult independence had its dark side.
She’d used a phone book in the bus station phone booth to find the Esmie house, then taken a taxi with an empty wallet. She didn’t have to say that if it hadn’t worked out at the end of the taxi ride, she would have simply run instead of paying the fare.
She was an Esmie.
As if to illustrate this point, after Violet and Lisette finally hung up with Clay—thus turning the dial down on the drama—Dodie walked through the front door, her hair wet from the rain and her expression unconcerned. She toed off her sneakers, and they made a squelching sound.
“Where have you been?” Violet shot the words like bullets.
“Out,” Dodie said. She caught sight of Lisette, and I could have sworn her face grew paler. She didn’t look unconcerned anymore.
“Hi, Aunt Dodie,” Lisette said, straightening a little from her hunched-in-anger position at the kitchen table.
Dodie gave her a strained, silent look. Then she turned to Violet. “That,” she said, pointing at the girl, “cannot stay here.”
Lisette recoiled.
“Knock it off, Dodie,” I said.
“What’s wrong with you?” Violet hissed. “It’s raining, and it’s getting dark. Lisette is staying the night. We’ll figure out how to get her home tomorrow.”
That had been part of the drama. Clay—I did not fucking like that guy—had demanded his daughter be returned to him as soon as possible. Packing her off alone wasn’t an option, and if Violet drove her daughter home, it would take all night, and she would be leaving the house. We weren’t done here.
Clay could drive to Fell to pick Lisette up, but he’d have to take days off from work.
Why couldn’t Violet fix the problem she had created by tempting Lisette to run away in the first place?
And so the argument went around and around.
I leaned silently against the kitchen doorway and stayed out of it.
I had never been more sure of my decision not to have any romantic attachments or any children.
This kind of shit was simply not my thing.
“She can’t stay the night,” Dodie said again, as if Lisette wasn’t in the room.
Lisette looked hurt and confused. She probably thought that Dodie was taking a personal exception to her, but I knew better. It was the house that Dodie was worried about. Lisette, in this house. At night.
“Where do you suggest we take her?” Violet argued back. “The motel?”
We all knew we weren’t taking her there. Lisette looked even more confused. “I want to stay,” she said, her tone as stubborn as Violet’s ever was.
“It isn’t ideal,” I said. All three women turned to look at me—I hadn’t spoken in a while. I shrugged. “We didn’t plan it, but she’s here now. Night is falling, and none of us is leaving. We can keep arguing, or we can make a plan. I know which one I’m game for.”
The silence was heavy. The only sound was the rain, which was falling harder outside. My niece, more perceptive than I gave her credit for, shouted into the pregnant air between us, “Someone tell me out loud. I want to know what’s going on.”
Violet pressed her fingertips into her eye sockets, as if trying to massage the worry out of her brain.
“Vail is right,” she said. “Let’s regroup.
I’ll pull together something to eat. Dodie, take Lisette upstairs and help her get changed and washed up.
Vail, you can either help me or just stand there being useless, like you usually do. We regroup in half an hour.”
Dodie still looked worried, but resigned. Lisette’s brows drew down, probably because she was being assigned a guard, as if she was a prisoner. But when Dodie motioned to her imperiously, she pushed her chair back and stood. She picked up her backpack and followed her aunt up the stairs.
“Dodie will tell her everything,” I said to Violet when they had gone, their footsteps banging down the upstairs hall. “Are you ready for that?”
Violet took a carton of eggs from the fridge and put them on the counter. “Not in the least,” she said.
“It’s an untenable situation,” I said. “What did you say to her on the phone?”
“Nothing.” Violet pulled an old pot out from the cupboard and ran water into it.
“I swear it, Vail. I told her where I was and why. I told her that Ben died a long time ago. I’d never told her that before.
I thought it was time she knew the truth, or part of it.
I didn’t ask her to come. I didn’t make it sound like an adventure.
The last thing I want is for her to be here.
” Her hand shook as she reached for the tap, and she twisted the water off with force it didn’t need.
I ran a hand through my hair, thinking. Violet was probably a bad parent—it would be surprising if she wasn’t. We hadn’t exactly had good role models. But she would never have asked Lisette to come here, to this house. Never.
“All right,” I said, not willing to dig any deeper into what might be happening in Lisette’s psychology. “But it’s an untenable situation, like I said. What do you plan to do?”
Violet’s voice was low, her gaze on the stovetop as she turned on the gas. “I’ll take her home tomorrow. I have to.”
“No,” I said.
“I have to,” she said again.
We were here for Ben. Was Ben more important than Lisette? Was Lisette more important than Ben? Neither sounded right.
“If you go,” I said, speaking the truth, “you won’t be back.”
“Yes, I will. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Which won’t be soon enough.”
She slammed the lid onto the pot and glared at me. “What do you want from me, Vail?”
“You can’t leave here tomorrow,” I said, “and Lisette can’t stay here a second night.”
“God, no. No. I won’t risk it.”
I looked at the fear in my sister’s eyes and nodded. “So we rest up tonight, and we finish this tomorrow. Before night falls again.”
She shook her head, but I saw the thoughts behind her eyes, fighting with the fear. “If I don’t get Lisette back to Clay tomorrow, he’ll call his lawyer. He probably already has. I’ll lose all the visitation I have. I’ll lose—”
“Violet.” My voice was ice. “This ends. Do you understand? We waited too long already, all of us. He had to call us home because we failed him, and then we ran. This ends. We end it.”
My big sister searched my gaze, took a breath, and then she nodded.