Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
Marion’s brows were knit with concern. “How are you feeling this morning, dear?” she asked Caitlin.
“Much better, thanks,” she answered, holding open the door so her neighbor could come inside. “I had such a wonderful time with you and your family yesterday. I’m sorry I didn’t return for dessert.”
“Shane told me your stomach was upset. He said it was because you went for a jog so soon after dinner. But I’ve been worried all night that my stuffing might have been too rich for you. Or perhaps it was the gravy…” Marion fretted.
She looked so worried that Caitlin pulled out a chair for her to sit. Joining her at the table, she confessed, “It wasn’t the food that upset my stomach, Marion. It was seeing the plaque by the inlet. You know, the one by the bench with Nicole’s photo on it.”
Recognition dawned on her face. “Oh, dear, I’d forgotten about that. I haven’t walked down there in years. If I had remembered, I would’ve told Jeannine not to take the children that way. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. I don’t know why I had such a visceral reaction.”
“It’s completely understandable,” said Marion kindly. “It must have been a shock to see that image of Nicole after all these years.”
Caitlin nodded. Even though she’d already seen snapshots of Nicole at the arcade, stumbling upon the photo of the teenager at the marsh had left her reeling. It was also what was written beneath the photo, not just the image of Nicole herself, that had intensified how upset she felt.
Marion continued, “There was a town meeting before that plaque was installed, so I know the group who installed it on behalf of Nicole’s family had good intentions.
They wanted to make sure something positive came out of the tragedy, and they thought the plaque was a way to provide a public service announcement about the tidal river, as well as to honor Nicole’s memory.
I understand why that’s important, but personally, I think their plan was misguided. ”
Caitlin was surprised that Marion had such a strong opinion about the plaque. “Why do you think that?”
“For one thing, only a handful of people ever walk to that end of the beach, and those who do are mostly old-timers who live in the immediate area. I used to hike out to the inlet almost every day because I found its unspoiled beauty to be so soothing and peaceful. But the plaque is a constant reminder of the tragedy.”
She elaborated, “Don’t get me wrong—I’m not saying we should forget about Nicole because her death makes us sad.
I’m saying only a few people will ever see the plaque, and most of us don’t need a reminder because we know what happened, and we already carry that sadness with us.
So I wish the people who installed it would have found a more uplifting way to commemorate Nicole’s life—like creating a scholarship for aspiring actors or something along those lines. ”
“That would’ve been a good way to honor her,” Caitlin agreed. “But like you said, the plaque was also a way of warning other people—visitors to the area, perhaps—about the tidal river.”
“That’s the other reason I was never in favor of the plaque,” declared Marion.
“What’s written on it isn’t accurate. When the stream is low enough to wade in it, I doubt very much it could knock an adult off their feet.
Darren and his friends used to float in that current all the time when they were young, and yes, when the tide was coming in, it would carry them toward the marsh, but it was usually quite gentle.
Furthermore, it was virtually impossible for the outgoing tide to pull them out to sea—there are too many sandbars in the way.
Of course, in any body of water, it’s imperative to exercise caution, which is why…
” Marion suddenly pressed her lips together, as if she’d thought better of completing her thought.
“Which is why what ?” prompted Caitlin.
Marion remorsefully shook her head. “It’s why I can’t understand what Nicole was doing anywhere near the marsh that night,” she admitted.
“Especially since it was only a few days after a tropical storm, and the surf was still unusually choppy. Not to mention, there was an astronomically high tide that evening.”
Caitlin was confused; hadn’t Lydia told Marion why Nicole had wandered to the end of the beach?
Or hadn’t Marion heard about it from the other islanders?
Trying to keep the emotion from her voice—and hiding the fact it was a question she’d asked herself, privately, too—she summarized, “Nicole got bored and walked home alone from a beach party we went to, and she missed the turn-off for the cottages by mistake.”
“Yes, I realize that was the common consensus, and it’s what the police concluded, too,” acknowledged Marion.
“What I mean is that the story doesn’t add up to me.
I only met Nicole briefly a couple times in passing, but from what I could tell, she was an exceptionally bright, observant girl.
I find it difficult to believe she didn’t notice that she’d not only walked farther than the staircase to the cottages, but she’d passed by all the dunes, too. ”
A shiver rippled up Caitlin’s spine. She asked Marion the question that had been playing at the back of her mind ever since the day she’d taken Pepper for a walk. “But-but why would Nicole deliberately keep walking down the beach?”
Marion glanced down at the table. “I shouldn’t speculate. I hardly knew her.”
Caitlin pressed her, “But just between you and me, if you had to guess…?”
“Well, from what I noticed and from what Lydia shared with me, it seemed that Nicole was at odds with her mother. Not that I’m one to judge.
Most parents and their teenage children don’t get along at some point—just ask my son, Darren, about the arguments we had when he was that age!
” Marion admitted. “So I speak from experience when I say that it seemed like there was a power struggle going on between Pam and her daughter. And I wouldn’t be surprised if Nicole went to the marsh as a way of deliberately scaring her mother. ”
“By swimming alone in the current?” Caitlin shuddered.
“Goodness, no. I doubt she intended to go in the current at all—as the couple who tried to save her attested, they heard her scream when she fell in,” Marion reminded Caitlin.
“But I’ve often wondered if she planned to hide out at the end of the beach until her mother and stepfather became worried that something had happened to her. ”
“I can’t really picture her doing that,” said Caitlin.
“Nicole told me she wished her mom would back off and stop smothering her. She already felt like her mother didn’t trust her, and that she treated her like a baby.
So why would she do something to make her mother worry about her even more than usual? ”
“Perhaps she craved her mother’s attention, but she didn’t want to admit it?
Or it could’ve been a way of rebelling against her mother’s control, testing her limits.
Maybe Nicole intended to manipulate her mother’s emotions to get something she wanted,” suggested Marion.
“Who knows? My point is, unless Nicole was drinking or taking drugs—and by all accounts, she wasn’t—then it defies belief that she didn’t realize how far she’d walked beyond the cottages.
Whatever her motivation was, it was foolish of her to go anywhere near the current that evening.
And unfortunately, she paid dearly for her foolishness, as you’re well aware. ”
“Yes, I am,” said Caitlin soberly, tears springing to her eyes. She quickly blinked them away, but not before Marion noticed.
“Oh, dear, how insensitive I’ve been, blathering on about my theories when Nicole’s relationship with her mom was completely none of my business,” she chastised herself.
“I should’ve simply said how sorry I am that you stumbled across that plaque.
It’s such a heartbreaking visual reminder of Nicole’s drowning, which is why I stopped walking to the end of the beach…
Now it’s my ample thighs and tummy that prevent me from going that far. ”
Caitlin feebly smiled at Marion’s attempt to lighten the mood.
Knowing her neighbor had been disturbed by the plaque, she felt comfortable enough to confide, “As least you’ve only been avoiding a little section of the beach—I’ve been avoiding the entire island for twenty years!
And even before I saw the plaque, I’ve been struggling with memories of what happened that summer.
” She sniffed. “I hate to admit this because I’ve really enjoyed seeing you again and getting to know you better…
but most of the time I wish my aunt hadn’t insisted that I come back here to Dune Island for the remodel. It sort of feels like torment.”
“ Torment? ” echoed Marion, misunderstanding her. “You yourself have a young niece, so I think you know that tormenting you was the furthest thing from your aunt’s mind.”
“Oh, no, that’s not what I’m saying,” Caitlin protested, regretting her phrasing.
“I know that my aunt always had my best intentions at heart. What I meant was that—as beautiful as Dune Island is, and as grateful as I am to receive such a valuable inheritance—being here has triggered so many agonizing memories about Nicole, that at times it feels… unbearable.”
“I’m sure it does.” Marion sympathetically patted Caitlin’s arm. After a thoughtful pause, she suggested, “But maybe Lydia wanted you to return so you’d relive memories about her . Or about your uncle. Happier times, when you loved being together at the cottage.”
“Mm, maybe,” murmured Caitlin.
“Maybe she also wanted you to make a few new memories while you were here—some very pleasant ones. So that when you say goodbye to Dune Island this time, you’ll be able to give it a fond farewell.”
Brightening, Caitlin chuckled. “Fond farewells were very important to my aunt.”