Chapter Ten #3
“Tell me,” she says, keeping her voice even, “that this is not what I think it is.”
“I’m sorry, Beth Ann,” Charlie says. “I brought her here before anyone else found her.”
Her eyes slide over to me and if looks could kill, I’d be dead on the spot. There’s a ferocity in her eyes that I haven’t seen before. I break the gaze, looking down at my feet.
“Thea,” she says, commanding me to look at her again.
I meet her gaze but offer no explanation. My head is still spinning.
“I’ll take it from here,” she says to Charlie, coughing as she reaches for me. She pulls me through the doorway and I wait for her to yell. She says something else to Charlie under her breath. I flinch at the sound of the slamming door a second later.
“Thea,” she repeats, sniffling through her cold. She crosses her arms over her chest. “What the hell has gotten into you?”
Again, I offer no explanation.
“Are you going to speak or are you suddenly mute?” she snaps.
“What do you want me to say?” I ask.
“Why?” she asks, a hint of desperation in her voice. “I thought we were past this.”
“It’s nothing,” I say. I set my phone on the table in the entryway as it buzzes. “It was just a party.”
“No. Don’t you dare tell me it’s nothing. This is you drowning right in front of me and I’m not going to let that happen.”
“I was just…really anxious tonight,” I say, “and it helps loosen me up.”
She frowns. “What does that mean?”
“It helps soothe the anxiety. I can be someone fun and carefree, not someone who’s just sad all the time.”
“Oh, Thea.” I can tell she wants to hug me but refrains.
“You can be that person without alcohol, you just have to learn how.” She steps closer to me.
“You think it’s making it better? It’s not.
And I can’t…” she shakes her head, “I won’t lose you, too.
I don’t care how angry you get at me for saying this, but I think you need real help. I think you should see a therapist.”
“Oh, come on,” I start, but she cuts me off. My phone buzzes again against the table and we both glance at it.
Beth looks back at me. “No. I don’t want to hear it. You may legally be an adult but…” she pauses. “I’m letting you live here for free. As long as you live under my roof, you will abide by my rules.”
“You’re not my mom,” I spit out, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Don’t you think I know that? Trust me, I’m well aware that I’m not.” She sneezes.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I burden you by coming here?”
“Thea, you know that’s not true.”
“You’re not the martyr for taking in your dead sister’s daughter.” The words are venom spewing from my lips but I can’t stop them. I see Beth recoil from them before she steps closer, closing the distance between us.
“Need I remind you that you are not the only person who lost someone that day,” she says. “I also lost my sister. So, even though you’re drowning in grief, take a look around and see that you’re not alone in it. I’m right there in that ocean with you.”
I stay silent, anger radiating off of me in waves as she continues. I hear my phone buzz once more against the table.
“I think it’s best that you start seeing a therapist. Someone to help you. I’ll see one, too, if that would help. You cannot use alcohol to drown out your grief and anxiety. You can have fun without it. It doesn’t have to be a crutch.”
Her words pack a punch.
“Better than ending up like you,” I mutter.
“What is that supposed to mean?” There’s fire in her eyes.
“At least I have fun. You’re a slave to your job and have been in love with a man for thirty-five years who’s none the wiser. Sounds miserable to me.”
As soon as I’ve said the words, I know they’re too much, that I’ve gone too far. I see Beth tense, anger consuming her whole.
“You will see a therapist and get help. End of discussion.” She uncrosses her arms and rubs her temples as my phone vibrates again. “Who on God’s green earth is texting you so much?” she yells.
I swipe my phone from the table and glance at the homescreen full of messages from Graham.
“Graham,” I mutter.
"Look, Thea, I love you, but you are making it very hard.”
“Sorry,” I say, in a tone that’s anything but. I turn on my heels and head for my room, tears welling in my eyes. I shut the door behind me and lean against it, trying a breathing technique I saw on the internet to calm myself down. I repeat the process a few times, wondering how we ended up here.
And for the first time, I wonder if coming to Driftbay was one giant mistake.
I’m up early the next morning after tossing and turning all night, knowing I need to apologize to Aunt Beth. Unfortunately for me, she’s already gone by the time I get up.
I walk to the diner in silence, following my usual route. Driftbay is calm at this time of day, especially after the festival last night. It’s already stifling out so I throw my hair up into a ponytail as I walk.
Graham is in the kitchen when I arrive, rolling silverware for the day.
“Hey,” he says as he sees me, a smile appearing on his face.
“Hi,” I say, before ducking into the back room to ditch my keys and phone. Walking back into the kitchen, I grab my apron and tie it around my waist.
“How was the party last night?”
I groan and it makes me realize my head has been pounding since I got up.
“I don’t really want to talk about it,” I say.
“Oh.” Graham’s smile fades.
“Let’s just say that I should have helped you and your mom,” I offer.
“She enjoyed meeting you,” he says, grabbing another napkin and a bunch of utensils.
“She’s a sweet lady.” I glance around and change the subject. “Is Beth around?”
Graham jerks his head in the direction of her office. “Doing the deposit,” he says, “but be careful, she’s in a mood.”
I nod, knowing I’m the reason for her anger. I head to the pantry and pull out my ingredients and get to work making the basics — chocolate chip cookies and brownies, recipes I know like the back of my hand. My mind whirls. I definitely overdid it last night and need to apologize.
I wait until the last moment possible to take the treats up to the display case in the front of the diner. I’m hoping to catch Beth by herself as she loads in the cash register for the day.
Unfortunately, I catch sight of fiery red hair instead of smooth dark chocolate brown at the register. Penny is loading it in.
“No Beth?” I ask as I look around.
“She’s in the office,” Penny says as she shakes her head. “Something about schedule changes and then a delivery truck broke down and won’t be here today.”
I nod slowly.
This day is going to be longer than I thought.
It feels like Beth avoids me all morning, but I know she’s dealing with more than our family issues today.
Our normal delivery truck has now been pushed back by two days and she’s running around checking inventory.
I stay out of her way, not wanting to break her concentration as she scribbles away on her notepad.
I’m off at noon, like usual, and quietly gather my belongings from the back room. Graham is working a double today. We exchange goodbyes and he waves at me with his spatula like he did the very first day we met.
I punch out, bid farewell to Penny, and then quietly slip out the back of the diner. The sun is scorching and it’s quite muggy out as I begin my walk home. I see children playing on a Slip-N-Slide in the front yard of one of the homes I pass by and it reminds me of my first walk to the diner.
I get to the cottage, grab the mail, and walk up the porch steps to the door. Unlocking it, I walk inside. I toss the mail and my wallet on the table in the entryway.
Beth won’t be home until later this evening, so I know I have a few free hours to clean the house, a gesture to say I’m sorry. I do some laundry, dust the living room, take out the trash, and bake her favorite dessert — Oreo truffles.
I mix up some icing in her favorite color, purple, and arrange the truffles on a platter where I can write across them.
I shove the icing into a pastry bag and begin writing ‘I’m sorry’ across them.
I’m just finishing when she comes home. I hear the metal clink of her keys in the bowl on the entryway table and as she shuffles, taking off her shoes.
My heart is about to beat out of my chest as I wait for her to round the corner into the kitchen.
She finally does, but doesn’t make eye contact with me.
She’s rubbing at her wrists and pops her neck before she finally looks up.
It’s silent for a moment as we both stand there staring at each other across the kitchen. Finally, I find the courage to speak.
“I’m sorry,” I begin, “for last night. I was really mean and out of line and I’m really sorry.”
Beth continues to stare at me. “We were both angry,” she says, choosing her words carefully. “Everything still stands, but I do accept, and appreciate, your apology.”
I nod and turn around to grab the tray of truffles.
I turn around and present them to her. She reads what I’ve written on top and a smile slowly spreads across her face.
She takes the tray and sets it back on the counter before turning to embrace me.
Her cherry-almond scent envelops me as we hug and I get the sense that we will be okay.
It’s a week after what I’ve dubbed “The Incident” when Beth walks into the living room after work and says, “I’ve made an appointment for you with a therapist.”
I close the book I’m reading, a new hobby I’ve picked up in the last week. “Okay,” I say. “Thank you.”
“Tomorrow at ten. There was a cancellation and they were able to get you in quickly.
I nod my head. “Okay,” I repeat. There’s no use in fighting it. I know she’s right. I need to see someone. I need help navigating this.
“I took off from the diner so I could go with you,” she says as she sits down beside me on the couch.
“Thank you,” I say, because I know it’s a big deal for her to miss work.
“I told Raquel and Graham that you wouldn’t be in, either, but not to worry.”