Kiss River (27 page)

“Couldn’t your lawyer have spared you from that?”

“Unfortunately, no.” No more than her lawyer had been able to help her get Rani out of India. “So, while all that was going on, my mother was having chemotherapy and getting sicker. I took a leave of absence from my job to take care of her. Hospice helped a lot, but I did most of it, and I felt…” She tried to remember the hodgepodge of feelings she’d experienced back then. “I felt miserable that I was going to lose her, but so glad I could be there for her. That I could be the one to take care of her.”

“I love your attitude,” Clay said, and Gina smiled. How could his wife have thought he wasn’t a good listener?

“My mother had always had one wish,” she said. “She wanted to find her birth parents. I made up my mind I was going to find them for her before she died. It seemed like a good chance that they’d still be alive.”

“Did you find them?” Clay asked.

“Not exactly,” she said. “I used one of those services on the Internet that can track down people for you, and I was able to find an original birth certificate for my mother. It named her parents as Elizabeth and Dennis Kittering.” She stopped for a moment and lifted her head to look at him. “Do those names mean anything to you?” she asked.

Clay frowned. “No. Should they?”

“Probably not,” she said, lowering her head to his chest again. “Anyway, I was able to find out that the last address for the Kitterings was in Charlotte, North Carolina. I hired someone to stay with my mother for a few days, and I flew there, to Charlotte. I went to the address I had for them. A woman lived there who turned out to be their grandniece. She told me that Dennis had died a very long time ago and that Elizabeth had died ten years earlier.” Gina had been so disappointed. Her fantasy of giving her mother the gift of her family before she died disintegrated. “I explained about my mother and asked her if she—the grandniece—could tell me about Dennis and Elizabeth so I’d have something to tell my mother. Like, for instance, why they had given her up for adoption.”

“Was the niece shocked to know that her aunt and uncle had put a baby up for adoption?” Clay asked.

“No,” Gina said. “She said that most people knew about it, although no one really knew why they did it. It wasn’t really talked about. She said that she had saved a box of things belonging to Elizabeth and Dennis because she’d always thought she’d try to find that baby one day. But she never got around to it. She seemed glad to get rid of the box, and glad that my mother would have the things, but not particularly interested in pursuing any kind of relationship with us.” Which had been fine with Gina. She hadn’t really liked the woman.

“What was in the box?” Clay asked.

“A bunch of odds and ends. Some pins, a couple of books. An old pink diary and a ruby necklace.” She lifted her hand, and the ruby ring on her finger caught the moonlight. “I had this made from the ruby,” she said.

“Whose diary was it?” Clay asked.

“Elizabeth’s,” she said. “And it was a real treasure trove.”

“In what way?”

“Well, I started reading it to my mother.” They had moved a hospital bed into her mother’s bedroom, and Gina had sat at the side of the bed, reading to her. Her mother’s eyes would be closed, but she was listening. Sometimes she would ask Gina to repeat something she’d read. Gina took in a breath. “What we learned as we read the book was that Elizabeth had been the daughter of Caleb and Mary Poor. She grew up here, in this house. I’m a descendant. I’m Mary Poor’s great-granddaughter.”

For a moment, the room was very quiet, only the rumble of the ocean filling the air. She was not certain Clay had understood what she’d said, and she was about to repeat it when he suddenly let go of her and sat up.

“Gina.” He was frowning at her, deep lines carved into his forehead. “Why didn’t you tell us this?”

He was angry. She hadn’t expected that, but perhaps she should have. “I came here just to see the lighthouse.” She struggled to find the words to explain herself and her actions. “I didn’t expect to meet anyone here. To make any friends. To get involved with people in any way. I wanted to keep my private life private. But I’ve come to care about you. To trust you. You’re such a good person. And after you told me about Terri, I wanted to tell you the truth. I wanted you to know.”

“It’s just plain weird that you didn’t tell us this,” he said. “That you’ve been living in this house as though it meant nothing to you. That you’ve let us do things for you without telling us…It’s…” He got up and pulled on his shorts, then sat down on the edge of the bed again, far from where she was lying. Gina wished she hadn’t told him, or better yet, that she’d told him long ago. She felt the delicate thread of connection she’d had with him just moments ago slipping away from her.

“I never meant to—”

“Now I get why the lens is so important to you. It’s part of your heritage. Why didn’t you just say that in the first place? Why’d you give us that line about being a lighthouse historian? Which you’re not, are you?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“You’ve been manipulating Lacey and me. And trying to manipulate my father, too. Man, he had you figured out right. I should have listened to him.”

She wondered what Alec had said to him, but she didn’t really care what his father thought about her. What mattered was what Clay was thinking.

“No, I didn’t, Clay,” she said. “At least, not intentionally.” She knew even that was a lie.

“Why did you just sleep with me?” he asked. “You’d sleep with the devil to get Rani out of India. I haven’t forgotten you said that. So you slept with me, hoping I’ll persuade my father to help you raise the lens, right?”

“No, Clay.” She grabbed her robe and put it on, getting out of the bed herself. “That’s not it at all. I don’t want you to say a word to your father about it, all right? That’s not why I slept with you.”

“Why then?” he demanded.

“Because I love you,” she said, finding the truth after all. “I love you.” More quietly this time. “I’m sorry that I hurt you by keeping the truth from you. I didn’t intend that to happen. I’ve always been the one who got hurt in the past. I know what it feels like. I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel that way.”

He turned away from her, facing the window. “Go back to your room, Gina,” he said.

She didn’t budge. “I know keeping that information from you was wrong,” she said. “And I’m sorry. But please, Clay, don’t make it be unforgivable.”

“Get out,” he said. “Maybe we can talk about it tomorrow. Right now, I’m too pissed off.”

“All right,” she said. “But think about this. Think about if you’re trying to find a reason not to love me. If you think you’re honoring Terri somehow by not living your own life.”

He didn’t turn around, and she feared she had pushed too far
in saying that to him. Before he could answer her, she left his room and went back to her own.

Crawling into her own bed, she fought back tears. She hadn’t expected his anger, but he certainly had a right to it. She’d always thought of men as the deceptive gender, but who was the deceptive one now? She couldn’t help it. She wouldn’t have told her own beloved mother what she was up to.

Just moments earlier, he’d been touching her, loving her. She shivered with the memory of his hands on her body, and she could still smell the salty scent of his skin like an aura around her. Rolling onto her side, she stared out at the ruins of the lighthouse, barely visible in the soft light of the night sky.

Her mother had made her read the diary to her over and over again, holding on to the past she had never known. After her mother died, Gina had tucked the diary away with the other things belonging to her mother that she’d wanted to save. The small, pink book would always be linked to her mother’s final weeks in her mind, and she needed no reminder of that painful time.

But two months ago, she’d brought the diary out again, needing to reread it. She’d needed to pursue the secrets it held.

Thursday, May 7, 1942

L
ast night was the best night of my entire life. It’s amazing that with all that’s happened in the past few weeks I can say that, but it truly was. I snuck out as usual and was walking through the woods to be with Sandy when he suddenly appeared in front of me. He told me he was not on duty tonight, that Teddy Pearson was, and that he had a plan. He held my hand as we walked through the woods, across the Pole Road and on out to the sound, and we finally reached the rickety old pier west of Kiss River. There was a small motorboat there, which he had borrowed from a friend. I have to say, I know more about motorboats than he does, but I let him think he was doing a good job as we sailed into the sound. There was a full moon last night, and the weather is really warming up. It was beautiful out there, and the jellyfish were lighting up like they do sometimes. That shocked Sandy. He’d never seen anything like it. I think it just made the night that much more spectacular.

For the first time ever, we talked about the future. Sandy wants to be a mechanical engineer, he said, working on ships. He’s re
ally gotten to like the Banks and the sea. I’m proud of him for letting it seep into his bones when he’d hated it so much when he first got here. After he gets out of the Coast Guard, he wants to go to college. He asked me what I want to do after I graduate and I said I want to go to college, too. I told him I want to be a teacher. He said maybe we could go to the same school, and then get married and live back here in the Banks. He said all that! I was floating, as you can imagine, and not just because I was in a boat.

We talked about having children. We both want to have three. Both of us are only children, and we don’t want any of our children to ever have that alone feeling.

Then Sandy told me that he needed to talk to me about something serious. I couldn’t imagine how anything could be more serious than marriage and children! But I said, okay, what is it? He admitted that it bothers him how much attention I am giving to the other boys, as well as how much attention I’m getting back from them.

He said, “I’ve tried not to be jealous, but I don’t understand why you started spending so much time with all of them, especially Ralph and Jimmy and Ted. I’m not accusing you of anything. Just confused.” He was hurt, I could tell.

I was afraid, but knew I absolutely
had
to tell him. I said, “I’ll tell you the real reason why, but only if you swear you won’t tell anyone. Not a soul.”

He looked very confused. “What are you talking about?” he asked.

“Swear to me. No matter what I tell you, you’ll keep it to yourself.”

“I swear it,” he said. He looked real serious.

So then I told him everything. I said how Mr. Hewitt took me up near Poyner’s Hill to talk to me. I told him, “Mr. Hewitt said the German who was hurt by the boar told the sheriff that…”

“He was killed before he could tell the sheriff anything,” Sandy said before I could finish my sentence.

“No,” I said, “he wasn’t. And he told the man who questioned him that someone in the Banks was in cahoots with the Germans, giving them information or whatever and maybe helping them sneak onshore to blow things up.”

Sandy looked shocked. “That’s ridiculous. Who would do something like that?”

“First he thought it might be one of the Coast Guard, since they’d have that information. Now I’m not sure what he’s thinking.”

Sandy looked as angry as I’ve ever seen him. “How could Bud think it would be one of us?” he asked me. “He knows us better than that. I don’t even think a one of us has any German blood in him. Except Jimmy Brown.”

That was a surprise! “Jimmy Brown is German?” I asked.

“Yes, but keep that to yourself, all right?” He still looked a little angry and I was afraid it was with me. “He changed his name when the war started. Brown was really spelled B-r-a-u-n. That’s the way the Germans spell it. But that just shows how much he didn’t want to be associated with the Germans. He hates them.”

So Jimmy was German! There were a million questions I wanted to ask Sandy, such as was Jimmy born in the United States, did he have relatives still in Germany. Finally, I thought I had something important to put in a note to Mr. Hewitt. But now I realize that I would be double-crossing Sandy if I told him. So I’ll have to look further into Jimmy myself before I say anything to Mr. Hewitt.

“Does Mr. Hewitt know about Jimmy’s name?” I asked.

“It’s none of Bud’s business,” Sandy said. “Jimmy would never do anything to hurt America.” Suddenly, he pounded his fist on the side of the boat. “I just can’t believe Bud would put you in such a dangerous position. You have to stop this spying or whatever it is you’re doing right now.”

I ignored what he said, starting to wish I hadn’t told him.

“I saw Mr. Sato,” I said. “Mr. Hewitt suspected he might be helping the Germans somehow.”

“What do you mean, you saw him?”

“I went to his house and pretended I needed to use his phone.”

“And what if Moto Sato had been a spy and you were in his house? He could’ve hit you over the head with something and no one would ever have known what happened to you.”

“I’m sure he’s not a spy,” I said. “He’s just a crippled old man. He doesn’t understand English at all. And I tried some German on him. He didn’t understand that either.”

Sandy raised his eyebrows. “You speak German?”

“Just two sentences,” I said. “But he didn’t understand them.”

Sandy shook his head. “Bess, you are the sweetest girl. And you’re kind and beautiful. But you are still really young and you can be pretty naive sometimes.”

That made me mad, but I didn’t say anything. I hate that word
naive.

“Let’s not talk about this now,” I said. I had to change the subject, because Sandy and I had been feeling so good about each other a few minutes ago and I’d ruined it by bringing up all this talk about spying.

He was still upset, I could tell, but at least it wasn’t because he was jealous. I was a little worried he might say something to Mr. Hewitt, but I tried to put that out of my mind. He would get himself in trouble as much as me if he told Mr. Hewitt we were close enough that I’d confided such a big secret to him.

He finally relaxed, and we turned off the motor and pulled the cushions from the seats of the boat onto the floor and got comfortable, lying next to each other, looking up at the beautiful stars. I knew what was going to happen. This was the right time and the right place. I can’t put the details here, of course. I’ll just repeat—it was the most wonderful night of my life. I
was
a little afraid of getting pregnant, but Sandy said we could practice withdrawal and that I wouldn’t get pregnant that way. I think that was hard for him to do, and I felt really cared about that he did it.

Then came the one bad part of the night. We were just floating in the boat when we heard some noises from shore. Our boat had drifted down the sound a ways, and now we were straight out from Mr. Sato’s house. We heard some whoops and yelling, and saw some boys running around the house. Their feet were pounding on the deck.

“What’s going on there?” Sandy asked me, like I might have the answer.

We soon found out. The boys disappeared, and then we noticed fire around the bottom of the house. Those boys must’ve poured gasoline around the house and set it on fire! Before I could say a word, Sandy started the boat up and we zipped over to the beach near the house.

“We have to get Mr. Sato and his daughter-in-law out!” I said, jumping from the boat.

Sandy was already ahead of me. I noticed that the daughter-in-law’s car was not in the driveway. There’s a rumor she has a boyfriend, so I figured she was with him.

Sandy jumped right over the flames and into the front door, and I followed him. Inside, we found Mr. Sato unconscious on the floor near his bed. It was real smoky in there and it looked like he was trying to get to his wheelchair when the smoke got him. Sandy and I were both choking. I was scared we would all be trapped inside the house.

I was worried Mr. Sato might already be dead. “Help me carry him,” Sandy said. He got Mr. Sato’s arms and shoulders, and I took his legs and we carted him into the living room, Sandy and me coughing and hacking and Mr. Sato quiet as a dead man. He was very light, but my arms were still shaking like he weighed a ton. The flames were too high by the front door for us to get out that way, so we carted him through the kitchen to the back door that led out onto the deck. We were able to get outside there, but the deck was on fire and there was nowhere for us to go but over the railing. We had to throw Mr. Sato into the water first and then quick jumped in ourselves to hold him up. Not even the water woke him up and I was sure then that he was dead. Sandy and I swam to the beach, dragging him all the way, trying to keep his head out of the water. Then we lifted him and carried him to the front of his yard where he’d be safe from the flames.

Mr. Sato was still unconscious, but Sandy felt his pulse and said he was alive. Then he started groaning a bit, and I know Sandy and I were both thinking the same thing, that we couldn’t stay there with him. We couldn’t take the risk of being seen together, by him or anyone else.

Sandy turned to me. “You go home,” he said. “I’ll make sure the sheriff knows Mr. Sato’s house is on fire. Don’t tell anyone what we did or that we were even out here.”

I sure knew better than to tell anyone! I ran all the way home and snuck in the house, hoping the dip in the sound had washed the smell of smoke off me, and went to bed. It was a long time before I fell asleep. I kept remembering how strong and good
Sandy was, caring about an old Japanese man enough to risk his own life to save him.

This morning over breakfast, Mama told me about the fire at Mr Sato’s and how half the house was destroyed but he somehow managed to get out just in time. I pretended like this was all news to me. Mama doesn’t know anything about my life. She doesn’t know I’m a lifesaver, the owner of a beautiful ruby necklace, and no longer a virgin. And I think I’d better keep it that way!