Chapter 1 #2
I walk down the aisle to the closed coffin covered in white flowers. I asked for it to be closed because I didn’t think I could handle seeing her.
Part of me feels like she should be buried at Woodlawn Cemetery, but beggars can’t be choosers.
Mr. Shaw paid for everything, is paying for everything.
So Mom will rest in a watery grave right here at Wainscott Hollow, with the terns and gulls overhead and the sand of Long Island Sound beneath her.
I guess it’s more beautiful than Woodlawn.
I grab the front ring and we hoist the casket onto our shoulders.
I stare into the faces of a dozen well-meaning strangers.
I’ve never felt more alone in my life, until my eyes meet Kat’s, and I pull in a deep breath.
Her eyes are bright and serious, and the strength in them reassures me.
I’ll be okay, no matter what happens. My life might change drastically, but I know I’ll survive.
Kat steadily holds eye contact with me as we pass through the aisle of Saint Therese of Lisieux and out into the sunlight.
Back at Wainscott Hollow, I run my hands over the carefully folded clothes packed neatly in Mom’s drawers. What do I do with her stuff now that she’s gone? I see her silver locket in a glass dish on her dresser and put it in my pocket. Inside is a black and white photo of me from when I was a baby.
“She’ll be right next to my mom. They’ll be together,” Kat says from behind, surprising me.
I think that sounds creepy, but I don’t say so because it obviously brings her some comfort. My mom never knew Mrs. Shaw, and if she had, who knows if they’d have gotten along.
Kat propels herself into my arms and almost knocks me over. Her feelings, no matter what, always come on strong. She’s as temperamental as the ocean wind out on the dunes. She sobs into my shoulder as I pat her back.
“I’m sorry I’m crying. I should be the one comforting you,” she protests.
I have to work to keep myself from breaking down. What scares me is the loss I’m about to face with Mom gone. I’ll have nowhere to go. I’ll lose my best friend. Wainscott Hollow has become my whole world, and I can’t imagine a life without Kat in it.
“Can you two both come downstairs? I want to discuss some important family matters,” Mr. Shaw says as he enters the room.
He’s never come in here before, to my knowledge, and I wonder if he even knows which wing of the sprawling estate Mom and I spent our nights in.
Kat and I follow Mr. Shaw down the grand staircase obediently and in complete silence. This is my stop. This is where I get off. My whole life derailed once again and forced to start over.
Henry sits sullenly on the large sectional, his arms folded across his chest. For as well as I’ve gotten along with Kat, her older brother is the absolute opposite.
He hates me, and the feeling is mutual. Henry has gone out of his way to remind me I don’t belong here, in Wainscott Hollow, in Montauk, or at Fairmont.
Any opportunity he gets, Henry reminds me I’m trash.
Without the pedigree, the education, the blue blood running through my veins.
I think he resents that I achieve things on my own merit.
He can’t stand to see someone work for something and win when everything he’s touched has been handed to him on a silver platter.
Henry grunts in our direction. Since Mr. Shaw notified me of Mom’s death, Henry hasn’t given me a word of condolence, even though you’d think he’d be empathetic to the situation, considering he went through the same a handful of years ago.
“I didn’t want to carry the casket, and I’m not going to the cemetery with you. Contrary to what you might think, Father, we don’t owe the servants more than a well-wishing bouquet when they croak. I’ve had enough of these guilt-ridden shenanigans,” he pouts. “You’ve already done more than enough.”
My fists ball, and I take a seat as far away from Henry as the room allows. My mother cared for this asshole, and he thinks it’s appropriate to humiliate me and speak badly of her before she’s even in the ground.
“That will be quite enough, Henry,” Mr. Shaw says.
“I’ve gathered you here to speak about that very thing.
What we owe to our dear Peggy, who always treated you like family as if you were her own.
I’ve asked my lawyer to draw up the paperwork, and I’d like to adopt you, Heath, as one of my own.
” He smiles kindly at me and his big, kind eyes well with tears.
Adopt me?
Henry scoffs from his chair, crosses his arms, and looks away from us as if he’s too disgusted to entertain a nasty comeback.
“Oh, Heath! Now you’ll be officially part of the family,” Kat exclaims before she jumps into my arms in a grand show of affection.
I’m stunned into silence. Here I thought I was getting kicked out and instead Mr. Shaw is inviting me in—to his family, permanently.
Mr. Shaw pats me on the back and smiles at how Kat fawns over me. Henry stands and exits the room, a permanent storm cloud over his head. I don’t even know if I want to stay here, but I do know I have no options. We had no Plan B and never discussed what I’d do if something happened to Mom.
“Thank you, Mr. Shaw. I don’t know what to say,” I stammer.
Kat won’t stop hugging me, beaming up at me with eyes full of hope. If I stay, it will be for her. Kat feels like my only remaining family member on this earth.
“Say yes! You can continue your studies, stay in your same room, and accompany Kat to the beach, just as you’ve always done since you arrived here.”
“If you’re sure it’s okay, and if it’s what you want, Mr. Shaw?
” I want to say something about Henry but can’t even broach the subject.
It’s obvious he despises me, and I make his life miserable.
Maybe Henry’s focus on me keeps him from despising his little sister, and if I can buffer her contact with him, then I’ll feel like I serve a purpose in this family.
“I’ve always wanted a son like you, Heath, brave and strong, a go-getter who’s not afraid to roll up his sleeves,” Mr. Shaw gushes.
I swallow and pray Henry isn’t listening, as this seems like a direct insult to his real son. Henry already resents me and doesn’t need any more reasons to lash out at me.
“Thank you,” I tell my mother’s former employer and accept his awkward hug. “I can try to pick up where my mother left off,” I tell Shaw.
The estate is now without its multi-tasking housekeeper who oversaw daily operations. Shaw allowing me to stay is likely his way of keeping the extra help without hiring new staff.
“Nonsense!” Shaw barks. “You’ll be my son and enjoy all the privileges that come with that title. Besides, Katelyn would never let me hear the end of it if I allowed you to leave Wainscott Hollow. Say you’ll stay and be an honorary member of the Shaw family.”
I nod and Kat leaps into my arms with renewed vigor.
The clouds are low and turbulent when we put Mom in the ground.
A somber pastor presides over the grim ceremony, where the four of us huddle against the cold of the brewing storm.
The lack of attendees only accentuates that Mom and I really only had each other.
Mr. Shaw and Kat are sympathetic, but how well did they know her?
She was the friendly face who scrambled their eggs and folded their laundry.
Peggy was my whole world. And now she’s gone, I truly feel like an orphan.
Rebecca Shaw’s gravestone is a few steps away, and I catch Kat glancing in that direction every time the wind blows or the sky rumbles.
Henry didn’t come. It’s obvious he doesn’t care whether we live or die, and I’m certain there will be hell to pay as soon as I’m alone with him.
But I know Kat wants me here, and I’ll do anything for her.
She’s the only person left in this world I care about.
Kat drops a single blood-red rose onto the lowered casket, and Mr. Shaw grabs a handful of dirt and says a blessing as he throws it over the coffin. I stand and look into the hole as a lone tear slides down my cheek.
I reluctantly close this chapter of my life, while another I didn’t ask for opens in front of me.
“Goodbye, Ma. I’ll love you forever and see you in heaven someday.”
I release my rose and follow it with a handful of dirt.
The ache inside me grows and expands like the wide-open Montauk sky.
Later that night, I run into Henry in the kitchen. He’s making a sandwich like I came in to do.
With Mom gone, there’s no one to make meals or ensure we’re all fed.
I turn on a dime when I see him, not up for his petty battles while I’m mourning my mom.
“He’ll get tired of you eventually, and you’ll be back out on the streets,” Henry tells me without turning around.
I retrace my steps to confront him and catch him licking yellow mustard off a steak knife. It’s important to stand my ground with this asshole, not let him see me cower because any sign of weakness is a way in for him.
“He kept you,” I say.
Henry’s glare is lethal. He hates that I have a camaraderie with his father that’s lacking in their own relationship, a natural ease when the two of them are combative at best.
“I’m his fucking blood! What are you? My sister’s little playdate. Cause Kat’s too crazy to have any real friends.” He smirks.
I lunge. All of the pent-up anger and pain roars out of me like a freight train wholly directed at Henry Shaw.
“You fucking entitled piece of garbage,” I spit as my hands encircle his neck. I’ll squeeze the fucking life out of him for talking about Mom, for saying shit about Kat.
Henry fights back like he’s been waiting his whole life to hit me. His fist catches my temple, and I let go, but I rebound quickly and land an uppercut to his jaw.
Henry kicks my shin like we’re two seven-year-olds in the schoolyard, and I land another on his insipid face, right in the mouth. Teach him to speak ill with Kat’s name on his tongue.
“What in the world has gotten into you two?” Mr. Shaw bellows from the doorway.