Chapter 9
Uninterested in going home and staying in her room all night, eating snacks and waiting for the day to end, she walked the streets of Nantucket’s downtown, her hands in her pockets, her raincoat slick.
She couldn’t believe how many mourners, dressed in black for the funeral, prowled the streets in the half-hour after the funeral ended.
She could see they were headed to a restaurant at the far end of the block, where, she’d heard from eavesdropping on kids at school, the wake would be held.
Since Thomas Bard’s mysterious death, rumors had circled like wildfire at Nantucket High.
Stacy Bard, his granddaughter, hadn’t been back to school since it happened, but plenty of kids had whispered about Thomas, how his body had been found in the water, how his death was a “warning to those who mess around.” Minnie didn’t understand what that meant.
She’d tried to get up the nerve to ask Viggo about it during art class, but since that first day, they’d hardly spoken to one another.
Minnie knew better than to bother him. His painting of the crow was one of the most spectacular things she’d ever seen, and she told herself that just seeing him work, just seeing him create something, was enough for her.
She was too brokenhearted after her breakup with Gavin to think about anyone else, anyway. Sometimes, she still couldn’t believe that Gavin had dumped her like that, immediately after she’d lost her father, just as her world had crumbled. Was that love?
Minnie decided to stroll by the restaurant where the wake was being held, just to snoop a little bit.
But as she drew closer, she realized she knew someone hanging around outside.
It was Viggo, hunched under his raincoat, a skateboard clutched in his right hand.
He was talking to someone that Minnie couldn’t make out at first.
This struck Minnie as odd. During the week she’d been at Nantucket High, she hadn’t seen Viggo talking to anyone.
She’d sort of assumed that he didn’t have any friends, or that he deemed everyone beneath him.
She walked a little bit closer, praying that he wouldn’t notice her.
But just then, the person he spoke to turned around, her face marred with shock, her eyes rimmed red.
It was Stacy Bard, Thomas Bard’s granddaughter. Minnie’s heart thumped.
Stacy said something else to Viggo, something Minnie couldn’t comprehend, then hurried through a throng of people to enter the restaurant.
Viggo hung outside, looking wilted. Minnie felt a sudden rush of bravery.
Her feet carried her across the street, where she ambled on the outskirts of the wake-goers.
Viggo noticed her quick movements and turned his head to look at her.
If Minnie wasn’t mistaken, a blush crawled up his cheeks.
She felt as though she’d caught him doing something wrong.
Minnie walked up to him. “Hi.”
Viggo tapped his leg with his skateboard. “Hey.”
Beside them, wake-goers were discussing the food that the restaurant had out for them.
“It’s a buffet situation,” one of them said, shrugging.
“I hate buffets,” a woman said stiffly. “You would think, with all the Bard money, they’d spring for something else.”
“I don’t think they’ve had a lot of time to consider this…” another scolded her.
Minnie glanced back at Viggo and saw that he struggled not to smile. “Sorry,” he muttered. “People act so insane at funerals. I never know what to do with my face.”
Minnie smiled back. “Are you friends with Stacy?” She asked because she couldn’t stop herself. “I mean, you don’t have to answer that.”
Viggo shrugged. “She’s my ex.”
Minnie’s ears rang. How was it possible that this fascinating, talented, handsome boy had dated that popular, wealthy girl with long blond hair? Was he really that shallow?
“Oh,” she said.
“She’s cool. We’re cool. We don’t talk that much anymore after we went our separate ways. But I used to be really close with her family. So, I guess, I wanted to come by and support her? Her most recent boyfriend broke up with her about a month ago. I know it’s been hard.”
Viggo’s tenderness strangely touched Minnie, although her chest burned with jealousy. “Are you going to get back together?”
“Naw. That’s over. I’m not the kind of guy to go back in time,” Viggo said.
Minnie marveled that at sixteen, he already knew what kind of guy he was.
Silence fell between them. Minnie wondered if Viggo was waiting for her to leave, or to explain why she was there in the first place.
But it was then that her eyes drifted to the window of the restaurant.
Through that, she saw her mother, Hannah, standing in the corner with a glass of wine.
Her eyes darted left, then right, as though she were assessing every person in the room.
Minnie felt it like a smack. Of course, her mother was here!
Her mother couldn’t resist a mystery. She couldn’t stop hunting for new stories.
For some reason, this annoyed Minnie to no end.
Why couldn’t her mother do something useful for a change, like fix the leaks in the roof, or find Minnie’s father, or get a real job, something that had less to do with ruining people’s lives?
“I can’t believe this,” Minnie mumbled.
Viggo frowned. “What’s up?”
“My mom’s here.”
Viggo followed Minnie’s gaze to find Hannah in the corner. “You look alike,” he said.
“No, we don’t.”
Viggo shrugged again. Maybe he sensed the darkness beneath Minnie’s tone. “Do you want to get out of here?” he asked.
Minnie felt an opening in her chest. Viggo wanted to leave? With her?
“More than anything,” she said. “I mean, yeah.”
“Let’s go.” Viggo turned and sauntered away from the restaurant, away from the mourners, away from Minnie’s mother.
As it happened, Viggo had a car. It was a clunky red convertible with an ancient CD player, something he said he inherited from an uncle.
Minnie threw her bag in the back and sat in the passenger seat, conscious of Viggo’s body, of the ease with which he threw off his raincoat and turned the key in the ignition.
A shiver went down her spine. She had a flashing image of herself and Gavin, making out in the front seat of Gavin’s Porsche.
She remembered her mother had said, “A sixteen-year-old shouldn’t have a Porsche.
” Minnie imagined it had been taken away after Hannah had exposed what Gavin’s father was up to.
Not that he’d been up to anything, she reminded herself.
Minnie was too scared to say anything. They drove out of the Historic District to a beach she’d never been to before.
The CD in the player was something from the ’80s called The Cure.
It was wailing, sorrowful, but beautiful music that Minnie immediately decided she loved.
She reminded herself to look it up later and learn everything she could about the singer, Robert Smith.
Viggo told her he was from England and a “poet.”
When Viggo parked the car, he got out and beckoned for her to follow.
Minnie felt as though she were on an adventure, exploring a land she’d never fathomed.
This was nothing like Miami. It was cold and wet, the waves crashing against the sand.
But it was also beautiful: the ocean gray and turquoise at once, the clouds roiling overhead.
She followed Viggo down the beach and to a sort of inlet, where— incredibly—there was an old, busted sailboat, crooked in the sand.
Viggo stepped aboard, then turned to extend his hand to help her on.
Up on the boat, they sat under an overhang and watched as the waves crashed and the rain splattered across the deck.
Their thighs were touching, and Minnie didn’t dare move, for fear that Viggo would realize it and shuffle away.
She had the sense that this was his private place, a spot where he came to think.
She couldn’t believe he was showing it to her.
It felt sacred.
Suddenly, Viggo unzipped his raincoat and removed a package of peanut M&Ms. It was so funny, so charming, that Minnie had to smile. She’d half-expected a can of beer or maybe some liquor in a flask. She held out her hand, and he let five M&Ms fall into her hand.
“Peanut M&Ms are the best,” he said.
Minnie agreed.
“It’s beautiful here,” she said after a soft moment of silence, her mouth filled with chocolate.
“I’ve never lived anywhere else,” Viggo said.
“I thought it was awful when we first got here,” Minnie said. “But it’s just cold, really. I’m not used to that.”
Viggo sniffed. “You’re weak.” But he didn’t say it to be unkind.
“Maybe.” Minnie smiled. “I’ve heard Nantucket summers are legendary.”
“They are,” Viggo said. “This will be the best, since I can finally drive. Before, I had to wait around for my mom to drive me everywhere, and it sucked.”
Minnie nodded, remembering her own previous summers in Miami. The difference was, she’d known all her neighbors. They’d had so much space to roam, so many mansions to traverse.
“You know, I didn’t move here because I wanted to,” Minnie offered.
“Nobody moves because they want to,” Viggo said. “Not at our age.”
Minnie nodded. It felt like he already understood. “My mom did a bad thing,” she said. “She destroyed our lives, and we had to abandon everything and come here. I can barely look at her.”
Viggo turned to look Minnie in the eye. “That’s heavy.”
Minnie nodded. She felt a sob come up her throat and swallowed it down. “When I saw her at the wake, my first thought was that she was up to something again. She’s going to destroy our lives again. I sort of panicked.”
Viggo furrowed his brow.
“I mean, I remembered what you said about Nantucket secrets,” Minnie continued. “My mom can’t resist a secret. It’s like she has to rip it apart and figure it out, and in the process, she ruins everything. She doesn’t think twice about what it might do to me.”
Viggo took another M&M into his mouth and sucked on it thoughtfully. Minnie wondered if she’d said too much or brought too much drama to his life. But finally he said, “Nantucket isn’t a place where you can ruffle feathers like that.”
Minnie felt a spasm of fear. “Neither was Miami. Like I said, my mom basically got kicked out of town.”
Viggo sighed. “It could get worse here. Worse than being kicked out of town, I mean. People in Nantucket don’t exactly play by the rules. Laws are sort of beside the point.”
Minnie couldn’t fathom what he meant. She watched as a piece of wood crashed from the waves and onto the sand, before the waves scooped it back up again. It was getting colder, the weather more violent.
“Tell your mom to stay out of things, if you can,” Viggo said. “One guy already died. I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to her. Or to you. You know?”
Minnie filled her lungs with air. Was Viggo messing with her? Was he trying to get in her head, to control her somehow? She’d read about guys like that. But just then, he reached out and tucked one of her curls behind her ear, an act of tenderness that made her heart ache.
How could she know who to trust?