Chapter LXXXVII
CHAPTER LXXXVII
A week later, Sam phoned to say she had spoken to her mother about her revised plans for college.
“How did she take it?” I asked.
“She told me she was going to talk to you.”
“Did she look happy when she said this?”
“I’m hoping she was smiling on the inside.”
“Great,” I said. “Just great.”
THAT SAME EVENING, RACHEL arrived at the house. I made a pot of coffee and we sat together in the kitchen we had once shared.
“I hear you have a girlfriend,” said Rachel.
“Did Sam tell you?”
“Yes. Sam says she’s a police officer.”
“That’s right.”
“Do you love her?”
“I think so.”
“Good.”
“And you?”
“Jeff and I are back together, kind of.”
Jefferson Reid; I’d never much cared for him. He was a rich fool—if that wasn’t a contradiction, given that he’d made all his money himself—and I was sorry he was back in Rachel’s life. At least Sam wouldn’t have to put up with him, not if she was going to college.
“Do you love him?”
“No, but I enjoy his company and that’s enough. He’s nicer than you give him credit for, which wouldn’t be hard.” She stared at her feet. “But Sam doesn’t like him. She gets that from you.”
“I’ve never spoken badly of him in front of her,” I said, or I was pretty sure I hadn’t. Seventy-five percent sure. Say sixty and call it quits.
“You didn’t have to. Sam picks up on things that remain unsaid. She always has.”
“She gets her perception from you.”
“Not all of it. Not the stranger part.”
I didn’t reply.
“She told me she wants to be a private investigator, like her father,” Rachel continued.
“Not like me. Better.”
“Would you take my side if I tried to stop her?”
“No,” I said. “But I doubt you will.”
Rachel set down her coffee cup.
“It wasn’t what I wanted for her,” she said.
“What did you want?”
“Conventionality. A normal life. I think it was only ever a dream. Because of you.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, and I was.
“You can’t help what you are.”
“Says the psychologist. I hope that’s not your guiding professional principle or you’ll die poor.”
“Others can help themselves,” said Rachel, “but not you. I don’t know what you are. I don’t believe I ever did. But I loved you. I still love you, though I never want to be with you again. You frighten me.”
The room was quiet for a long time. I heard a bird cry in the marshes.
“Sam told me something else,” said Rachel. “She said she could see Jennifer, or used to.”
“Yes.”
“And you never thought to share that with me?”
“Are you saying you suspected nothing? If so, I’m not sure it would be the truth.”
Rachel opened her mouth to speak, only to close it again without saying anything more. She drank her coffee, just to give herself something to do.
“No,” she said at last, “it wouldn’t be. Do you know why Jennifer came to Sam?”
“I’m not sure. It may have been to protect her.”
“That’s not what Sam thinks, or it’s not the only reason. She thinks Jennifer was trying to protect both of you, but you more than her. You must know why that was, or is.”
“I don’t.”
“Do you still see Jennifer?”
“Not for a long time,” I said. “I’ve felt her close. She watches me while I sleep.”
Rachel buried her face in her hands.
“Oh God,” she said. “Oh God, oh God, oh God…”
I went to her. I held her close as she shook her head against me.
“What are you hiding?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
She pulled away from me.
“No, what are you hiding from yourself? What have you buried so deep that it’s been lost even to you?”
But I had no answer to give.
Rachel stood to leave.
“Sam will do whatever she wants,” said Rachel. “But I expect you, Angel, and Louis to guide her as best you can, to educate and train her so that if she follows this path, she’ll have all the skills she needs to survive. I want her kept safe. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“In the meantime, you need to uncover what’s hidden. Until you do, we’re all vulnerable.”
I followed her to the door. I didn’t offer her a bed for the night. I knew she wouldn’t want to stay, not after this, not ever.
“Rachel.”
She paused. Around the porch light, early insects flitted, newly hatched and drawn by the radiance.
“What if it’s better that it should stay unknown?” I asked.
“Why? What do you think might happen?”
A beacon revealed itself, cutting through the dark. A signal pulsing in the abyss.
“I think they’ll realize,” I said. “I think they’ll come.”