Chapter 42
Lucy
Erica’s sprawled out on a lounge chair next to her pool, exactly where I thought she’d be, and when I open the gate to her backyard, she sits up and pushes her sunglasses on top of her head.
“What are you doing here?” The skin around her eyes is red and puffy, and my heart leaps into my throat as soon as I see her.
I drop onto the chair next to her and wrap her in my arms. “Taking care of you, duh.”
She lets out a sob, her cheek wet against my shoulder. “Everyone knows, don’t they?”
“Yeah,” I whisper. “How are you holding up?”
“Well, I’m nine weeks along, so I feel like shit. My parents are furious, and Billy’s family won’t speak to me until the paternity test comes back.”
“And I thought I had problems.”
“Ha! That’s the first thing that’s made me laugh in weeks.”
“Do you know what you’re going to do yet?” I ask. She presses her palms to the sides of her head and folds her bottom lip under her teeth. When she doesn’t answer immediately, fear grips me hard, and I reach for her knee. “Erica?”
“I haven’t decided,” she says.
“You’re thinking of keeping it?” I stare at her, incredulous. “But you’re only eighteen. You’re going to NYU in two months. You’re…Erica, you’re a kid.”
Erica pouts and leans back against the lounge chair. “I knew you’d react this way.”
“Well, yeah. Have you thought this through?”
“Of course not,” she says, her voice getting louder. “I haven’t had much time to process, and honestly I could really use a friend right now instead of another person telling me what to do with my body.”
Her words hit me square in the chest. She’s right. I can’t control her, just like I can’t control Millie or Frankie or even Ethan. All I can do is be there for her.
Erica closes her eyes, and her features tremble, a tiny earthquake rippling over her face. After what feels like an eternity, she looks at me. “If Billy were alive, the decision would be easier.”
She lets the words hang between us, her mouth trembling, her cheeks growing red. She presses a hand to her stomach, still flat, and when she looks at me, I understand why Erica would consider having this baby.
It may be the last remaining piece of Billy Godwin.
—
I stay in Erica’s backyard for a long, long time. Long enough for darkness to fall, for Erica to pull the towel around her shoulders for warmth, and for me to suggest that maybe we go inside and raid her pantry.
In the frigid air-conditioning of her home, over bowls of boxed macaroni and cheese, Erica begins to tell me what’s happened.
“I wasn’t totally honest with you about why Billy and I broke up,” she says. “When I said I liked myself more when I wasn’t with him, what I meant was that I liked myself more when I was with Trevor.” I scoop up a spoonful of noodles and listen intently.
“He made me comfortable. I don’t know how to explain it.
” Erica sets her bowl on the table. “With Billy, I always felt like I had to perform. But Trevor was so…easy. A week before I officially broke things off with Billy, I asked Trevor if he wanted to go for a drive. He suggested we go over the bridge into Kimber Cove to see the sunset from a different vantage point.” She shrugs and throws up her hands.
“I kissed him that night. That was that.”
“Trevor.” I shake my head. “I can’t believe it.”
“I know. Honestly, he seemed surprised, too. I always thought he had a crush on Millie, but after that…we just clicked.”
I stick my spoon back in my bowl. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was mortified. I mean, I cheated on Billy. I wasn’t exactly proud of that. And if it got back to Billy…It was just easier to keep it a secret.” A small smile starts to form on her face. “This is bad, but it was fun to have a secret. A summer fling before college. Something sweet and easy.”
“But then you found out you were pregnant.”
She nods, her eyes downcast.
“And then Billy died.”
“I found out the morning of the party.” Erica swallows and rests her palm on her forehead. “And I told him that night.”
My mind is moving so fast, trying to parse the words, figure out how they translate to what I know about Billy’s death. “How did he react?”
Erica smiles, soft. “He thought we were going to get married and live in an apartment in the city that his parents paid for.”
I bite my tongue and try not to point out how delusional this line of thinking is.
“The next morning, his dad called me and basically demanded that I keep quiet. I guess Billy told him before he died.”
“What was Mr. Godwin’s reaction?”
Erica leans in, clasping her hands together. “Maybe I’m losing it, but I really thought they would want me to have it. That they would want some part of Billy alive. But they were furious. Said I was probably lying, and even if I wasn’t that they wouldn’t support it at all.” Erica bites her lip.
“Why didn’t you want to take the DNA test? Why did you refuse?”
“On principle,” she says. “They’re only doing it because they don’t want me to have any of their money.
” She scrunches up her nose. “I don’t even want it.
I went over there a few days ago before all this craziness,” Erica says, “and his dad was such an asshole, screaming at Mrs. Godwin about how Billy would still be here if she had just let him sleep at home that night.” She shakes her head.
“He was drunk, I think, but it was so creepy, and Mrs. Godwin threw a plate at him.”
My jaw tenses, and Erica narrows her eyes.
“What?” she asks. “You have that look on your face that you get before a math test.”
“Were his parents home the night of the party?”
“His mom was, but she always takes a bunch of benzos and passes out. I never saw Billy’s dad. He’s in and out a lot.”
“Do you think he could have been on the boat?”
Erica’s eyes flash recognition. “When we were together, Billy would say that his dad disappeared all the time and would sometimes sleep on the boat if he got into a fight with Mrs. Godwin.”
My mind whirs, the possibilities crystallizing like developing photographs. “What if Mr. Godwin was on the boat? What if he and Billy got into a fight that night over this?”
Erica’s mouth drops open, and neither of us say anything. We don’t have to.