Chapter 7. Alice
ALICE
Alice had already baked the pumpkin and apple pies, which were cooling on the kitchen table, and was now onto the pecan pie.
“Something’s off,” her mother said from where she sat at the table.
Alice froze, thumb pressed in the dough stretched along the rim of the ceramic dish. Can she really tell I’m—what? A week?—pregnant? But when she looked up, Nora was inspecting the crust of the apple pie with a butter knife.
“The crust’s crumbly,” Nora said. “Is this the dairy-free one you made Cait? Without the butter?”
“Oh, for God’s sake.” Alice returned to the counter and poured the sticky pecan mixture into the crust. “I forgot about that.”
Her mother followed her. “Well, it’s not God’s fault.”
No, it never was. God was the only one to ever get a pass.
“Cait’s just so particular about what she eats,” her mother said. She scooped a bite onto her pinky finger to taste. “It’s delicious. Do we have more pecans? Maybe we can make another one of these using the shortening?” She thought for a moment. “Although, does Cait eat pecans?”
It was already nine in the evening. Alice was used to her mother bending over backward for beautiful, successful Cait, but her sister’s stunt earlier had sapped Alice’s patience.
Trying to keep the peace, she offered, “I’ll tell Kyle to get some apples and shortening in the morning so I can make a new pie. ”
Nora wrapped her arms around Alice’s shoulders and planted a kiss on her cheek. “Nothing to worry yourself about.”
But they both knew Alice would worry about it and make the dairy-free apple pie.
Just as they both knew Cait wouldn’t eat it—she’d make a show of cutting a slice, and it would sit, untouched, on the table in front of her while she drank another Moscow…
or whatever the caterers were serving as the ridiculously expensive signature cocktail.
Upstairs, she heard Kyle yelling at the boys to get back into the bunk room, and though she didn’t care about Cait needing to sleep off the jet lag, she wouldn’t wish the waking of the twins on anyone, so she called up through the back stairway in a loud whisper for them all to quiet down.
Then she put on the electric kettle and slid the pie into the refrigerator to bake tomorrow.
She was too tired to wait for it tonight.
Because you’re pregnant . The truth of this reverberated in her head as it had all evening.
She brought a cup of tea to her mother, who was back at the table writing out the place cards. The name LUKE sat at the top of the pile.
They hadn’t discussed Cait’s unexpected dinner guest yet, and Alice wasn’t in the mood now.
She was incensed and wanted to stay that way; her mother would defend Cait no matter how absurd it was for her to invite Luke to Thanksgiving.
Compassion? Please. And at the same time Maggie was introducing Isabel to the family.
Cait needing to add more drama to the weekend was no surprise, but Alice couldn’t have predicted she’d go this far.
Alice remembered being a kid and hiding on the backstairs landing with Maggie—where was Cait then?
—while they listened to their parents talk to Mr. Powers, the family lawyer, about the Larkins’ wrongful death lawsuit, accusing Topher of negligence.
It was only a few months after the accident.
Father Kelly had set up a memorial at the school’s library with a photo of Daniel from confirmation the year before and an open notebook for students to write letters to his family.
She was tempted to look through the notebook but wouldn’t dare risk anyone catching her.
Her brother was the reason Daniel was dead, or so everyone believed, and she didn’t want to be associated with it in any way.
All she knew was that the police investigation had revealed Topher’s jerry-rigging of the steering wheel hadn’t contributed to the crash, and the toxicity report showed that Daniel’s blood alcohol was twice the legal limit.
But as the suit claimed, Topher had allowed Daniel, a minor, to drive his boat while drunk.
Her parents had already agreed to an out-of-court settlement payment.
They wouldn’t reveal the exact sum, but Alice had heard her father on the phone with the bank discussing how to mortgage the house.
Mr. Powers was there to let them know that in addition to the monetary settlement, the Larkins had added a new nonmonetary demand.
“The defendant must accept legal responsibility for the negligence as a continuation of the release,” Mr. Powers said. “Topher will not face criminal charges, but the Larkins do not just want a check. They want it in writing that he accepts responsibility for Daniel’s death.”
There was a long moment of silence. Then Nora said, “I won’t do it. I won’t ask that of him. Of course he feels responsible, but Daniel was also drinking. It is not just Topher’s fault, and for them to ask him to state that is cruel. He’s just a boy himself. We can say no, can’t we?”
Alice sensed the anger, or fear, in her mother’s voice, but she pretended everything was all right, so Maggie wouldn’t get upset.
The wooden floor beneath them was cold and hard, but they sat still and waited for the response.
Topher was at college in Rhode Island, and Alice knew her parents wanted to shield him from everything as much as possible so that he could focus on his studies.
She missed him at home but was relieved he wasn’t there to hear what they were saying.
“If this goes to court, it will be an expensive, public, and drawn-out trial,” Mr. Powers said. “And because Daniel did not die immediately and was still responsive when they brought him to the hospital, the court can infer that he suffered and—”
“We will do it,” Alice’s father said, cutting him off. “Topher will admit negligence if that’s what’s necessary for all of this to be over. Because that’s what we need: for it to be over.”
Nora laughed. She often said a good laugh and a long sleep could cure almost anything, but it didn’t seem to Alice that either was happening in the house those days.
Most nights, she would wake to find her mother downstairs cleaning or reorganizing her painting studio.
Laughter felt like a betrayal. This was a hard laugh anyway, and it startled Alice.
“Over?” Nora said finally. “Oh, no. It will never be over.”
Standing there now and staring at Luke’s name on the place card filled Alice with even more anger toward Cait.
In many ways, her mother had been right.
Settling the lawsuit hadn’t meant it was over.
Alice wasn’t sure the suit was to blame for the downward spiral that led to Topher ending his own life, like Nora believed, but she supposed that watching their parents suffer the financial stress of the settlement and having to admit legal negligence had not helped her brother’s crushing sense of guilt about Daniel’s death.
She lifted the card. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” she asked her mother.
Nora sighed. “What can I do?”
“You can tell Cait to call it off. The whole thing. I don’t get it.”
Nora blew her nose into a hankie. “I don’t either,” she said.
“I’m going to talk to Cait.”
Nora reached for her arm. “Don’t,” she said, then stopped and looked behind Alice’s shoulder.
“James is waiting for you to come say good night,” Finn said.
Alice turned. “Where’s Dad?”
Finn shrugged.
“Okay, I’ll be up in a few minutes.”
She hadn’t planned on going up in a few minutes.
She’d planned on Kyle getting the boys settled.
She could tell that Finn was still upset about what had happened at the game that afternoon, though she wasn’t sure what he was upset about most. That his team lost?
That she’d embarrassed him by getting sick?
That he was in trouble for the magazine?
She tossed the place card back onto the pile and noticed her mother staring at her. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing,” Nora said. “You’re feeling better, then?”
A knot formed at the base of Alice’s stomach. “I’m fine.” She quickly gathered the teacups. “I told you, it was just food poisoning or a stomach bug.”
Her mother tapped her pen on the table. “You’re sure it’s not something else?”
In her head, Alice screamed, I’m pregnant and don’t want to be and don’t know what to do about it!
But she did not say this. Instead, she squeezed her mother’s shoulder and assured her: “It’s not something else.
” Then she loaded the cups into the dishwasher, said good night, and dashed upstairs before her mother could press her any further.
The lights were out in the kids’ bunk room, but the boys were hunched over their iPads and barely noticed Alice when she walked in to say good night. Cait and the twins stirred in the bottom bed of the second bunk.
“Let’s go,” Alice whispered to Finn and James. She was annoyed Kyle hadn’t completed the job. He was probably filling out staff evaluations or reviewing curriculum or whatever he did that was of such great import.
Finn glanced up from his screen, his face covered in blue light, and said, “Okay,” as he turned over.
Alice stood momentarily stunned before it dawned on her that he was only so agreeable out of fear about the magazine.
Still, she counted it as a win for the day.
And because Finn so readily obliged, James followed, asking if he could have back tickles, his body twitching as he slipped into sleep almost as soon as she placed her hand on the small of his back.
Finn bent over the railing of the top bunk.
“Am I in trouble?” he whispered.
Alice stood. “I haven’t even talked to Dad yet.”
Finn laid back and covered his face with his arm.
Though she hadn’t heard from Kyle about their conversation, she hoped there was an explanation for the magazine.
She felt bad Finn was under extra scrutiny as the principal’s son.
And now his mother had thrown up at his game in front of his friends.
He deserved his own school, where so much wasn’t expected of him.
She worried about the pressure. He seemed to be handling it all, but she imagined there was plenty she didn’t know about his life.
The older he got, the less time they spent together.
She knew this was a normal part of growing up, but she couldn’t help but feel alarmed whenever he was upset about—school?
Basketball? Friends? A girl? A boy? He rarely ever told her.
If she asked, he’d mumble something under his breath and hide out in his room.
Hours later, he’d reemerge as though nothing had happened.
Sometimes she’d wait outside his door and listen.
For what, she wasn’t even sure. Would she be this protective—no, suspicious—had her brother not done the unthinkable?
Finn knew Topher had taken his life, but they’d never discussed the details.
This was her fault. She didn’t want him to know the details.
But she loathed how this reminded her of her mother, who avoided the word suicide at all costs.
“It’s nothing to lose sleep over,” Alice said to Finn. “We’ll talk after this weekend.”
Then came the tears. “I feel bad you got sick,” he said.
“Sweetheart, that didn’t— you didn’t make me sick.”
“Dad said I did.”
She rose up on her toes to kiss his wet cheek. “I haven’t been feeling well all day,” she said. “It’s probably a stomach bug.”
“Okay.” He rested his head on the pillow and she kissed him again, the smell of his skin sweet and familiar.
In the bedroom, Kyle sat in his boxers, clipping his toenails on the rocking chair that Alice’s grandfather had made for her when she was born.
“I didn’t say he made you sick,” he said. “I told him you were upset, which you were. You brought it into my school.”
And that’s when she realized why he’d been so absent, even a bit cold, ever since he’d returned home from the game.
He was upset with her. She’d assumed she was the one avoiding him—or, more specifically, avoiding having to tell him about the pregnancy test. She knew she should, but she was not ready.
“I thought the magazine was yours,” she said, rifling through her bag for pajamas.
Kyle looked up from examining his big toe. “And that would make it better ?”
She hadn’t thought about it that way. Mostly she just wanted to hear about Finn. “Did you talk to him? What’d he say?”
“He said it was Leo’s.”
“Okay, so it’s not his. I guess that’s good?”
“He stole it from their house last weekend.”
“Oh.”
Kyle gathered his nail clippings and tossed them into the wicker trash can, which Alice would empty on Monday after everyone left and life resumed its mad dash, and when she would certainly have to tell Kyle about the pregnancy.
“Two weeks is a suitable grounding,” he continued. “No after-school stuff except basketball and no weekends with his friends.”
“We can’t just punish him,” Alice said. “He probably took it because he’s curious. That’s natural. He’s getting to that age. You need to talk to him.”
“I will,” Kyle said, but then added, “He also needs to learn consequences. You’re too easy on him.”
This again. Yes, sir, Principal Williams! A stirring of annoyance moved through her. “He does have a consequence,” she said. “He’s upset. He couldn’t fall asleep—not that you noticed.”
“He should be upset.”
“Okay.” Alice hoped to prevent a fight or a lecture. “I’m tired.”
She turned away from him as she changed.
Kyle climbed into bed. “You have to understand what that could have meant for me. You marching in like that and—”
“I know,” she said, and then couldn’t help herself: “You’re a very important person.”
Kyle looked at her.
“I’m sorry.”
He nodded, then kept at it. “It would have been deeply embarrassing for my son to be caught with—It could have undermined my authority, you know, with the students and the faculty.”
“You’re right,” she said to end it.
As they settled into sleep, she turned back to him. “I need you to pick up shortening tomorrow morning,” she said. “And more apples.”
Kyle adjusted his pillow. “For Cait’s pie?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t get any at the grocery store?”
“I need more,” she said into the darkness.
“Okey dokey.” He rubbed his bare feet against hers, a jagged toenail scraping her heel.
She turned to the wall and closed her eyes. When she imagined how Kyle would respond to the pregnancy, resentment surfaced for how little his life would change with the arrival of a new baby. It would be her dreams that would go unfulfilled.