Compulsion (11 page)

It was Barrie’s worst nightmare. “I’m not that interesting,” she said, staring hard at her congealing fries and cooling hot dog. “I’m sure they’ll get tired of me pretty fast.”

“You don’t understand, do you? It doesn’t matter how boring you are. They’ll compare you to your mama, and her mama before that. They’ll judge you because you’re Emmett Watson’s granddaughter, and Thomas Watson’s great-great-great—who even cares how many greats—granddaughter. They’ll shake their heads about Lula and Uncle Wade running off together, but in the end they’ll forgive you because you’re a Watson. Just like they’ll blame me because I’m a Colesworth.”

She said it so matter-of-factly, with almost no hint of bitterness. Barrie couldn’t help but like her. How could anyone not like Cassie?

“Still, I’ll bet they’re wrong about you, aren’t they?” Cassie’s thick-lashed eyes narrowed in speculation. “You’re not just a Watson. You’re a Colesworth, too. I can feel it.” She gave Barrie another dazzling smile. “But listen to me going on and on when I should be telling you how glad I am that you’re here! Isn’t it wonderful?” She threw her arms around Barrie and gave her a squeeze. “I can’t believe I have a brand-new cousin. It’s like Christmas in June. That’s it exactly—you’re my Christmas-present cousin. I just know we’re going to be best friends. I can’t wait for you to meet my sister, Sydney, and the rest of the family. Daddy hasn’t talked about anything else since he heard you were coming. He’s dying to hear all about you and what Lula told you about us—”

“Lula didn’t tell her anything about
anything
,” Eight
said. “She never heard of Watson’s Landing until her mama died.”

Cassie drew back to frown at Barrie. “Nothing at all?”

Something about Cassie’s intensity made Barrie nervous. She resisted the urge to slide down the bench to give herself a little more breathing room. “Lula never talked about my father or where she came from. After the fire I guess it was too painful to think about it.”

“Didn’t you ever ask?” Cassie leaned over and took a couple of cold fries out of Barrie’s basket. She chewed on them thoughtfully while Barrie shook her head.

Barrie wasn’t about to admit how many times she’d asked, or tried to ask, Lula questions. Lula had been Lula. She hadn’t talked about anything she hadn’t wanted to discuss.

“Jesus,” Cassie said. “Imagine showing up here and getting all this dumped on you. You have to be curious, too, I’ll bet.” She smiled, her foot tapping as if she were thinking. “My daddy’s got loads of old photos back at the house. You should come over. Maybe after the play—” She glanced at Eight, and her mouth snapped closed.

An awkward silence hung over the table. Barrie struggled to think of something to say, but she’d never been good at that.

“I’m sorry.” Cassie touched Barrie’s shoulder, her face serious, her eyes big and wide. “This is exactly like me, jumping to conclusions. You may not even want to know anything
about your daddy. San Francisco had to have been amazing. So much better than this suffocating town. Look at these gorgeous clothes . . . and your jewelry.” She plucked Barrie’s necklace off her shirt. “Are these Tiffany keys? They are, aren’t they?” Almost reverently her fingers ran over the three keys with their tiny diamonds set in delicate platinum settings. “Are they real?”

Barrie barely resisted the urge to pull away.

“Need a refill yet, Bear?” Eight reached between her and Cassie for Barrie’s Cherry Coke and shook the cup to see if it was empty. It wasn’t, but the gesture made Cassie drop the pendants.

The way Cassie stared at the keys made Barrie want to tuck the necklace under her shirt or apologize for wearing it. She’d never thought about what the keys were worth. Not in terms of money. They’d been Lula’s gift to her for winning the state and national Scholastic art awards, one key for each of the three prizes, which had been the first time Lula had shown any interest in Barrie’s work. Barrie had given up pushing drawings under Lula’s door in kindergarten. She liked to think the keys had been Lula’s way of making up for that.

Sadness swelled inside Barrie’s chest, filling her up until she thought that she would burst.

“Come on, Bear. We’d better get you back.” Eight unfolded his legs and made the table wobble as he rose. “Your aunt will cut off my visiting privileges if I keep you out much longer.”

“You don’t have to leave so soon, do you?” Cassie bit her lip. “My shift is almost over. I can run you home. Or wait”—she reached over and grabbed Barrie’s hands—“I’m meeting some folks at the Resurrection later. You could come. We can have dinner, and I can introduce you to a few of my friends. It’s my last free night until Monday. Please say yes! It’ll be so much fun!”

Barrie stood up slowly. She should want to go with Cassie. But she didn’t.

Eight shook his head at her as if he wanted to
will
her to say no. Why was he always telling her what to do? Meeting a few friends would be manageable. Cassie deserved at least that much. And the more people Barrie met before school started, the fewer stares she would have to face in the halls and cafeteria on the first day of class.

Hadn’t she promised Mark she would have adventures? Put some wear on her shoes? She needed to push herself. “Thank you,” she said, “that sounds like fun.”

Cassie gave her a quick, tight hug. “Great. I’ll pick you up at six.”

“No need. I’m already coming back into town for dinner around then. I’ll drive her,” Eight said, with a smile that wasn’t as much a smile as the promise of impending argument.

It was strange for Barrie to raise her voice, let alone to have a no-holds-barred fight with someone she had never even heard of twenty-four hours before. She and Eight argued all the way to Watson’s Landing in a way that reminded her of Mark and Lula’s fights. By the time they reached the small bridge over the creek, Barrie felt as though every word in her vocabulary had been wrung out of her body. She turned up the radio to drown Eight out. He had the bass turned too high again, and the beat pounded along with her headache. She stared out the open window.

“Dinner with Cassie is a stupid idea. Dumb as a box of rocks.” Eight turned down the volume again. “Admit it. What if Wyatt shows up? Running into him before might have been an accident, but by dinnertime Cassie will have had time to tell him you’ll be with her at the Resurrection.”

“Which is a restaurant. A place full of people. So, what is he going to do? Anyway, Cassie is great. She’s family.
My
family. Do you have brothers or sisters?”

“A sister—Kate. She’s sixteen. She’s at camp, or we would have brought her over. But you’ll meet her soon.”

“You love her; I can tell by the way you said that just now. Do you see how lucky you are? I don’t have a sister or a brother. Cassie and Sydney are the closest things I’ll ever have to that—and Cassie is asking me to dinner in a public place, not hauling me off to a secret lair to be tortured by her minions. How am I supposed to say no? Anyway, you’re the one who thought it was a good idea to introduce us.”

“To introduce you. Not to have you think you’re going to be best friends. Because trust me, that isn’t what she wants.”

“And how do you know what Cassie wants, Commander Beaufort? You know what
everyone
wants—”

“Don’t be an ass. You don’t understand—”

“So tell me! What don’t I know?” Barrie turned to him and waited, but Eight set his jaw and stared out the windshield. She flounced back against the seat. “That’s exactly what I thought.”

“I promised I wouldn’t say.”

“Then it isn’t up to you to tell me what to do.”

She was sick of people telling her what to do. She would have loved to tell Eight she didn’t need a ride either. But she
didn’t know how to drive . . . and Pru wasn’t likely to take her to the Resurrection. Too bad she hadn’t thought faster and told Cassie to go ahead and pick her up. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe she could find Cassie’s number and call her.

The gate stood wide open when they reached Watson’s Landing, and Eight drove straight through. Barrie hadn’t even realized how much tension had built up inside her, until it vanished in the dappled light beneath the Watson oaks. She wished they were at the house already so she could go curl up on her bed, but Eight slowed to a crawl behind a blue mini-van with New Jersey license plates. He practically kissed its bumper. Which was Eight’s problem right there. He was pushy.

“Back off a little, can’t you?”

“They’re going ten miles an hour.” He flicked her a maddeningly good-natured look.

“They’re probably looking around. That’s kind of the point.”

The family in the minivan weren’t the only ones doing that. Closer to the house a young mother was trying to corral a pair of toddlers who were chasing the two peahens that had wandered too close to the family picnic. A white-haired man and his pink-skinned wife leaned on each other as they hobbled away from the parking area toward the tearoom.

Apart from the tourists, the scene gave Barrie a lurching
sense of déjà vu. Pru’s ancient car stood in the same place as when Barrie had first arrived. It looked forlorn without its peacock hood ornament. Pru was out front again, too, teetering on a ladder, trying to fix the fallen shutter. Barrie ran to hold the ladder as soon as Eight slid the car to a stop. Even so, he somehow managed to get there first. What was it with him?

“Here, Miss Pru,” he said. “Switch places with me.”

Not,
Can I do that for you?
Just
Switch places with me
. Pushy.

“He has no business telling you what to do,” Barrie said, loud enough for him to hear.

“What? I was hoping he would offer.” Pru handed down the shutter and followed after it to trade places with Eight. “What’s wrong, sugar? Didn’t you have a good time in town?”

“I met my cousin. Cassie.” Barrie injected extra enthusiasm into her voice. “She was great. Fantastic. But I barely got a chance to talk to her, so I’m going to have dinner with her tonight to meet some of her friends. As long as you don’t have any special plans, I mean.” Barrie peeked at Pru from beneath her lashes, hoping she wouldn’t see refusal. Or rage. “It’s okay, isn’t it? Please say yes. I’d really like to go, and I promise I’ll get up early tomorrow morning to help around here. I know I’ve been useless so far.”

“I don’t need your help. That’s one problem you don’t
have to worry about.” Pru handed the shutter up to Eight. “Having dinner with your cousin, though—”

“She couldn’t have been nicer! Honestly. Eight said there are . . . well, issues . . . between the families, but I have to go to school with her.”

Pru glared at Eight. “I told you. I told you, and your father told you. But you didn’t listen.”

“Hey, don’t look at me.” Eight shrugged and frowned at Barrie. “I tried to talk her out of dinner. Good luck talking her out of anything she thinks she ought to do.”

Barrie refused to let him draw her back into the argument. She was already mad at herself for allowing him to spook her about Cassie. Not to mention Wyatt, who had probably seen her with Eight and wanted to introduce himself. Eight was the one who had driven off like a crazy person. No wonder Wyatt hadn’t known what to do once they’d reached the beach. Or maybe it hadn’t been Cassie’s father at the beach at all.

“Can we please stop arguing?” Barrie heaved a sigh. “I hate it. Especially with you, Aunt Pru. But Cassie and her family are my family too, and I want to know what my father was like.”

“Be careful what you wish for, sugar. History isn’t always what we hope it will be. You aren’t going to believe what the Colesworths are like until you see it for yourself, though, are you?”

“I need to do this,” Barrie said. It felt good to take a stand. To make a decision.

“Fine.” Pru waggled her finger at Eight. “I’m holding you responsible, Eight Beaufort. You keep an eye on her and see she doesn’t get in trouble.”

“That’s just it. I can’t. Dad and I are having dinner at Harrigan’s Steak House. The recruiter has flown all the way out from California, so I can’t reschedule—”

“Who asked you to?” Barrie snapped. “I don’t need a babysitter! Cassie’s going to introduce me to her friends, not the local Mafia.”

Eight used the base of the screwdriver to knock a shiny screw loose from the shutter. “You met kids at Bobby Joe’s today. Nice kids.”

“They didn’t exactly invite me anywhere, did they?”

“Because you just got here. They were trying to be respectful.” He took the box of screws from Pru, stuck one into the old hole, and twisted it in. Just exactly like he always dug around in people’s heads, twisting their thoughts until a person didn’t know whether up was up, down, or sideways.

Well,
screw him
.

“You know what? I’m done arguing with you. I was supposed to call Mark hours ago. Excuse me, Aunt Pru.” Barrie let herself in through the front door and headed toward the stairs.

She was on the landing before she remembered she didn’t
have her phone. Retracing her steps, she stomped back to the first floor, pushed through into the kitchen, and nearly ran over a woman carrying a tray of empty plates and glasses.