The Sweetness of Salt (19 page)

chapter

45

Sophie got up then and walked out of the room.

But I just sat there, too stunned to move.

Had I heard her correctly? Drowned?

Where? How?

Sophie’s fault? It had to be a mistake. I looked around. Where had she gone? She couldn’t drop a two-ton word like that and then leave.

I bolted off the bed. “Sophie!” It was empty downstairs; the lights were off. “Sophie!” I screamed again. “Where are you?”

No answer. She’d only walked out fifteen seconds ago. Where could she possibly have gone? I flung open the front door. The rain had slowed to a light drizzle and the light, pale and watery, had already started to change. I ran out on the front porch, sidestepping the hole in the middle, and leaned against the rickety banister. Main Street was still empty, save for a string of cars parked outside of Perry’s. Perry’s front window was streaked with rain, making it impossible to tell who was inside. Still, I knew she was in there, probably spilling everything to the Table of Knowledge guys. God forbid she tell me the whole story. I was just her sister. Better to tell three old yahoos-or-whoever-the-hell-they-were from Smalltown, USA, so they could cluck their tongues and give her “advice.” Unbelievable.

I ran inside and pulled on a pair of clean jeans, a T-shirt, and one of Sophie’s sweatshirts. It was impossible to avoid puddles as I raced across the street, so I sloshed deliberately through them, drenching myself again. I didn’t care.

Walt, Lloyd, and Jimmy looked up as I walked into Perry’s. They were eating pieces of cream pie. Lloyd was licking his fork. A big blob of whipped cream sat like a cotton ball on the collar of his shirt. An older woman with beautiful white hair and blue rain boots on her feet was sipping from a cup in a nearby booth. Miriam was behind the counter, wiping it down with a dishcloth.

“Hey, Julia.” Walt said. “How’re you—”

“Where’s Sophie? Did she come over here?”

Walt put his fork down slowly. “Sophie’s not here. Why? She’s not over at her place?”

“Obviously not. Or I wouldn’t be looking for her here, would I?”

“What’s wrong?” Lloyd asked. He had finished eating and had inserted a toothpick in between his bottom teeth. “You two have a fight?”

“It’s none of your business.” I turned to leave, and then thought better of it. “Actually, you know what? Maybe some of it is your business. I want to know what she’s been telling you. About my family.” I yanked a chair out from underneath a table nearby and set it down hard between Jimmy and Walt. “I know you guys have all your ‘knowledge’ talks over here. I’ve seen her come and talk to you when she’s bummed out, and I’ve seen the way you pat her on the back and shake your heads and talk to her until she feels better. So I want to know what she’s been talking to you about that she doesn’t say to me?”

The three men stared at me. Even Jimmy, who had been stirring his coffee with a straw, stopped and looked at me.

“She’s never talked to us about your family,” Walt said finally. He leaned back and hooked his thumbs behind his suspenders. “Not ever.”

“She told you about me.” I glared at Lloyd. “You knew I was valedictorian of my class.”

Lloyd dismissed me with a shrug. “She talks a lot about people she’s proud of. You getting all hot under the collar ’cause she’s proud of you?”

I ran my palms against the flat of my legs. “Fine. What does she talk to you about then? The weather?”

Walt nodded his head slowly and leaned back on his chair. “Well, yeah. Sometimes she talks about the weather. Sometimes she talks about what needs to be done in the house. Sometimes she talks about what she’s planning on making when she opens the bakery.” He shrugged. “Sophie talks about all sorts of things.”

I stared steadily at him. “You’re lying.”

Walt let his chair down with a thud and raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? And what am I lying to you about?”

“Sophie said you give her advice. About important things. She said that’s why you’re called the Table of Knowledge.” I stared at the three of them. “You must think I’m an idiot if you think you can sit there and tell me that you’re giving her advice about how many inches of snow you’re going to get this winter.”

Lloyd laughed and took the toothpick out of his mouth. “That about sums it up, darlin’. Studying the Farmers’ Almanac gives us lots of credibility in this town!”

Walt, who had been watching me with a look of increasing concern, took his spoon out of his coffee. “What’s going on, Julia? What’re you so upset about?”

I shook my head. If they didn’t know anything, I certainly was not going to be the one to tell them.

“You two have an argument?” Lloyd asked again.

“Yeah.” Struggling to hide my embarrassment, I turned to go.

“Julia!”

I turned as Walt called my name. “Best thing to do when you’re angry is to sit a while.” He nodded. “Just sit. Don’t do anything crazy.”

“Crazy?” I thought. “You want to see crazy? Let me tell you about the time my big sister got locked up in a loony bin—then you can talk to me about crazy.”

I pushed open the door and walked back into the rain.

chapter

46

I decided to go back to the house and wait for Sophie, afraid that if I started traipsing through town looking for her, she’d come back, find me gone, and leave again. I stayed in the kitchen for a long time, rummaging aimlessly through her cupboards, opening and shutting her refrigerator door. What was I looking for? Did I expect the answer to the terrible question I had in the back of my head to just come falling out of a cabinet?

How had Maggie drowned?

Had it been an accident?

Sophie had been seven. Maybe she and Maggie had been swimming at a pool together. Mom would’ve been sitting in a fold-up chair off to the side, reading a magazine, watching them with one eye. Maybe Maggie had slipped and gone under. Would Sophie have held her under? It couldn’t be. It was impossible. Sophie wasn’t capable of something like that.

Was she?

I thought about the explosive scenes between her and Mom and Dad over the years, how she screamed and cursed at them, clenching her fists as if trying to restrain the violence inside them. Or the hatred in her eyes the day she had ripped that spelling trophy out of my hand and flung it down the hall. She’d even told me about the time she’d slapped Maggie across the face. Could the jealousy she felt toward her little sister have propelled such rage? Was something like that in her?

I stared at the front of the refrigerator. A picture of a caterpillar Goober had drawn was tacked to the front with little strawberry magnets. Next to it was a torn-off piece of paper with the name
Greg
and a phone number written beneath it.

I went back upstairs, walking around restlessly. It was still gray outside. The empty bedrooms felt darker and more ominous somehow, and when a car backfired outside, I screamed. Shaken, I went from room to room, turning on all the lights, and then came back and sat on Sophie’s bed. My eyes roved around the room like an afterthought: walls, floor, dresser, bed…

Wait.

I stood up slowly. There
was
something different about the dresser, something I had glimpsed before, but not registered. I walked over, trying to place what it was.

And then, like a cold hand settling on my shoulder, it came to me.

On wooden legs, I walked out of Sophie’s bedroom and into the spare one across the hall. Sophie’s empty sleeping bag was still flung on the floor next to the lamp. The drop cloth was still bunched in the corner, and the windows were streaked with rain. The only things missing were Sophie’s shoes.

I squatted down slowly next to the sleeping bag, and felt around until my fingers came into contact with something hard and sharp. Drawing the picture frame out, I stared down at Goober’s face, and then clutched it against my chest.

“Oh my God,” I whispered. “Goober. Where are you, baby?”

chapter

47

“Where’s Goober?” I demanded, looking around at the three men inside Perry’s. It was dusk. Most of the tables inside the little restaurant were filled now. Miriam was racing around the room, serving plates of their famous chicken stew and biscuits. The white-haired woman was still there, reading the newspaper now, in between bites of chicken stew and a small bowl of peas. I leaned on the back of an empty chair next to Jimmy and glared at them one by one.

“Goober?” Walt said. “Who’s Goober?”

I pointed at Jimmy shakily. “Sophie…she said you talked to her all the time.” I struggled to keep my voice steady. “That’s what she said. She told me you only talked to people you felt like talking to, and that Goober was one of them.” I was pleading now, begging Jimmy for information.

He did not look up from his coffee cup.

“Who is Goober?” Walt said again.

I collapsed into the empty chair so that I would not fall to the floor. “Sophie’s daughter. She’s four. Her name is Grace, but we’ve all called her Goober since she was born.”

Lloyd raised an eyebrow. “Oh, Gracie!” he said. “Yeah, yeah, we know Gracie. You call her Goober? I quiz her on the state capitals all the time. She already knows about ten of them.” Lloyd nodded at me. “She probably got your brains. She’s a smart little thing, I’m telling you.”

Walt was studying me carefully. “Why’re you panicking about Gracie? She’s probably up at her father’s place. In Rutland.”

I shook my head. “Greg gets her every other weekend. That’s it. Goober’s been gone for almost three whole weeks now. And every time I ask her where she is, Sophie makes up some excuse about them going camping.” I slammed my hand on the table. “Who camps for three whole weeks with a four-year-old?”

Patrons looked up, alarmed at the sound of my voice, and then kept eating. Miriam glanced over at Lloyd and raised an eyebrow.

I struggled to lower my voice, turning to Jimmy. “Listen to me. I know something’s wrong. I can feel it. Please, please tell me what’s going on. Please just tell me what you know.”

Jimmy looked up. He touched the brim of his Red Sox hat lightly and then cleared his throat. “Sophie come back yet?”

“No.” I planted my hands flat on the table in front of me. “She hasn’t. We were…having a…a discussion…and she got upset and left. She walked right out of the house. I didn’t see where she went and I don’t know when she’ll be back.” I leaned forward. “Where’s Goober, Jimmy? Do you know?”

Jimmy gazed at me. His eyes, a slate blue color, were grave. “You need to find Sophie first.”

“Oh my God, are you kidding me? I told you I don’t know where she went!”

“She’ll be back,” Jimmy said calmly.

I paused, clenching my fists in frustration. “What are you hiding? What do you know about Goober that you aren’t telling me?”

Miriam came over then, and set her coffee pot deliberately on the table. “Would someone like to tell me what’s going on here?” Her eyes scanned Walt, Lloyd, and Jimmy, before settling finally on me. “Is there any reason you’re giving my dinner crowd a collective heart attack?”

I shook my head and buried my face in my hands. I was spent.

Walt reached out and put a hand on my arm. “Easy there. Just take it easy.”

“Next outburst, you’re going to have to take a walk.” Miriam picked up her coffee pot. “I’m sorry, but I mean it. I can’t have this kind of drama in here. People are trying to eat their dinner.”

“Okay.” I nodded behind my hands.

Next to me, Walt sighed. “Anyone ever tell you that you jump to conclusions before you know all the facts?”

“You think so well on your feet, Julia, which is exactly the kind of trait you need to become a good lawyer.”

I sat back slowly. Blinked. How was it that nothing—not one single thing—made sense anymore? When had everything I knew, or everything that I thought I knew, been turned upside down, shaken out, and trampled until it was unrecognizable?

I looked over helplessly at Jimmy again. His eyes were still fixed on me. “Go find Sophie,” he said.

“Where?” I struggled to control the impulse to reach over the table and throttle him. “Where would she be? Where should I look?”

Jimmy shrugged. “Don’t know. Doubt she’s gone too far, though.”

I stood up, leaning my weight on my fingertips. I wasn’t going to get anywhere with this guy, apparently. He had absolutely no intention of offering assistance. “Thanks for all your help,” I said.

Jimmy tipped his hat forward. “Anytime,” he said softly. “And Julia?”

“What?”

“Let me know when you find her.”

chapter

48

Someone said the night is darkest just before the dawn.

But they lied.

Night is dark the whole way through, from the beginning all the way to the impossible, interminable end.

I went from room to room again inside the house, turning off the lights, searching behind the doors, but it was empty. When I called Sophie’s name, it reverberated against the walls, a sad, frantic echo. At least my car was still in the back, parked next to the garage. Still, when I thought about it, Sophie could have gone anywhere. This was her territory, not mine. Where had she disappeared to? When would she return? And where.… The thought made me shudder, bringing hot tears to my eyes.

Where was Goober?

Suddenly, I remembered the phone number on the refrigerator. Racing down to the kitchen, I grabbed it and then dialed the number with trembling fingers. It rang once, twice, three times.

“Hello?”

“Greg?”

“Yes?”

“This is…” I pressed my hand gently along the hollow of my stomach. “This is Sophie’s sister. Julia.”

“Oh.” He paused. “Hi, Julia.”

“Hi.” A nervous laugh escaped my lips. “How are you? I mean, how are things?”

Another pause. I knew how weird this must be. I’d only met Greg once. The day Goober was born, he had shown up at the hospital just as Mom and Dad and I were leaving, holding a bouquet of sunflowers. Sophie had made the awkward introductions, shifting uncomfortably in her bed as Greg set the flowers down carefully on the windowsill. I remember just watching him, how he moved with unease around Sophie, kissing her stiffly on the cheek, avoiding her eyes. And then, how his whole face changed, flushing pink, as he leaned over the bassinet and stared down at their daughter. “I’m…fine,” Greg said now. “And you?”

“Oh, I’m good.” I coughed lightly. “I’m actually at Sophie’s place. In Poultney.”

“How’s that coming along? She get it fixed up yet?”

My heart skipped a beat. So he knew about Poultney. He knew she was down here. Okay. It was a start.

“Yeah. She’s working hard on it. I’ve been sort of helping.” My eyes fell on the wall across the kitchen. My mural of Main Street. There was the Laundromat and Perry’s with the wooden tables out front and the pizza place too. They were all there, set back a little against the street itself. A wrought iron lamppost stood in the left corner, and next to it was the chokecherry tree, its leaves small and pointed like elf ears. Just like outside. I had done that.

“Are you staying for the summer?” Greg asked.

“Yes. I mean, no.” I turned away from the mural and leaned against the butcher block. I didn’t know anything anymore. “I mean, I’ll be here for a little while.”

Greg didn’t say anything for a moment. I could tell he was trying to guess the real reason for my call. Suddenly, in the background, I heard a little voice.

“Daddy, come finish your picture.”

My knees buckled at the sound of Goober’s voice. I pressed my knuckles against my lips as Greg answered her. “Hold on, baby. Daddy’ll be right there.”

“That…that’s Goober?”

“Yeah.” Greg answered. “We were just coloring.”

I began to cry. “Then she’s…okay? Goober, I mean? She’s okay? She’s safe?”

“Julia.” I could hear the sound of Greg’s footsteps as he moved out of the room, out of Goober’s hearing range. “What’s going on? Why are you calling me?” His voice was considerably softer, but firm.

I struggled for the words. There was no possible way I could begin to explain things to Greg. “There’s just been some stuff…going on. Sophie’s been making all these excuses about why Goober isn’t down here with her, and I didn’t know where she…really was. And I…”

“Sophie didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“Goober lives with me now,” he said simply. “Sophie and I are in the process of getting the whole custody order changed so I’ll be the primary custodian.”

“What?” I could feel the breath leave my body. “Why? Why would you do something like that to her?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Greg answered. “Sophie came to me with the idea, not the other way around.”

“But…that doesn’t make any sense! Goober’s her whole
life
, Greg! You know that! She loves her more than anything. Why would she do something like that?”

Greg was quiet for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was unsettlingly calm. “You know, Sophie and I have never really been close. I mean, aside from the fact that we had a child together.” There was a pause. “It’s been five years since we met, and I still don’t know a lot about her. She doesn’t share anything with me. Never has and, I realized quite some time ago, never will. So when she came to me a few months ago and told me that she was having nightmares about hurting Goober, I knew better than just to blow it off. It was the first time she’d told me anything real about herself. Anything honest. And when she followed it up with the custody discussion, I kept listening.”

“Hurting Goober?” My voice was faint.

“She’s never laid a finger on Goober,” Greg said. There was an edge of defensiveness to his voice. “I’m not accusing her of anything, okay? She just said that she’d been having these nightmares…and that she didn’t think she had it in her to be the kind of mother Goober deserved.” He paused. “She’s not totally out of Goober’s life. She comes up when she can—sometimes for the weekend, sometimes not. And they talk every day on the phone.”

I sank down along the wall. “How is Goober?”

“She’s…adjusting,” Greg answered. He cleared his throat. “I’ll be honest. It’s not easy. She asks a lot of questions.”

“Yeah.” Would I ever get to see my baby niece again?

“She’ll be okay, though.” Greg’s voice sounded wistful. “Kids are resilient, Julia.”

“Yeah,” I said again. “I know.”