Undertow (20 page)

“Why do you keep saying that?” he asks soberly.

My exhale is exasperated. “You already know why. Because I’m starting school.”

“You starting school is irrelevant. Why do we only have a week?” His voice is strained.

“Because I’m
leaving
, Nate,” I say. I hate that I am hurting him, and at the same time I feel exhausted by the sheer number of people who think my plans are some kind of childish whim, like an insistence on only wearing the color purple or refusing to eat vegetables. “You knew this. Why are you upset?”

“I know you’re leaving,” he persists. “Why does that mean we end?”

Since the moment we got back together last night, this is the question I’ve had to continually shove away. I just wanted a week, or even a day, of being happy with this, the little time we have. I want to beg him to take the question back, because my answer will ruin everything.

“Because you’re not going to wait,” I finally say, choking on the words as they emerge.

“That’s why I’m upset!” he shouts, pressing the heel of his hands to his forehead. “Damn it, Maura. I don’t want anyone else. I have
never
wanted anyone else, and I don’t know what it will take to make you believe it. The reason you’re not telling your family about us is because you still don’t think this is for real.”

“I’ll be gone for three years, Nate!” I cry. “That’s a long time for any couple, and we’ve never really been together as adults.”

He moves back to lean against the wall, and closes his eyes. I wait, worry and dread overtaking me. I thought I had a week, but here it is already: the moment when it all falls apart.

“Then ask me to go with you,” he finally says. Not at all what I was expecting.

“You can’t,” I argue. “You have this house and your job and…”

“Ask me to go with you,” he says, cutting me off. “If you don’t want me to go, then say so, but don’t try to make my decisions for me.”

“Are you serious?” I breathe, incredulous. He says nothing, just waits. “Go with me,” I whisper, and I wait for the bottom to fall out.

“Okay,” he says simply. As if it’s a decision that requires no thought.

Exhilaration and wariness battle each other — really believing him, and then being disappointed, feels like more than I can bear. “What about your business? Your house?”

“Businesses can be started over. The house I can rent, or just board up for now. But you I won’t give up.”

“Don’t say it if you don’t mean it,” I whisper. “Please. If you tell me this is going to happen and it doesn’t … ”

He comes back to me, tipping my face to his. “I mean it, Maura.” He looks into my eyes, waiting for his decision to register, waiting for me to accept it. I look back at him, blurry through a film of tears, and nod, unable to even reply around the lump in my throat.

He presses his mouth against mine gently, and I can taste my tears as they slide between us.

He pulls back, a little cautiously. “Why are you crying? If this isn’t what you want you need to say so. I’m not going to be like Ethan and your family, forcing you in a direction you don’t want to go.”

I shake my head. “I’m crying,” I say roughly, “because you’re telling me that I’m going to get the one thing I’ve always wanted and thought I’d never have.”

He pulls me into his chest and holds me tightly, pressing a gentle kiss onto the top of my head. “The real test awaits, Maura. I want you to tell your mother.”

I groan. “Are you sure we can’t just go and call her from Michigan?” I suggest, only half-joking.

“I’m sure.”

I take a deep breath. “Fine. But can we at least wait until tonight? Give me a few hours between her tantrums.”

“Promise me you’ll tell them.”

“I swear it.”

“Good,” he says, pressing me to the wall with a crooked grin. “Because we have things to attend to here.”

CHAPTER 39

The light is fading outside when the banging on the front door rouses us. I forget, for a second, where I am, and feel a shot of joy as I see Nate jumping out of bed. He pulls on his jeans quickly and frowns at me.

“Why are you smiling like that?” he asks. “Someone’s trying to break down my goddamn door.”

“You’re coming with me,” I say, unable to put a hold on my joy even if someone
is
trying to destroy the house.

And he smiles back at me, boyish and thrilled. “Yes, I am.” He runs down the stairs while I throw on my clothes. I hear shouting, and the moment my shirt is over my head I am running toward the sound.

My father is yelling as I emerge from the stairwell.

“Dad?” I cry. “What’s going on?”

Both of my parents are outside Nate’s door. My father sees me and attempts to push past Nate.

“Dad! Stop!” I insist. Nate is larger and blocks my father, but he does so looking over at me with uncertainty. Despite everything we have promised each other, this, for him, is the moment of truth – the moment when I choose sides.

I know what I have if I stand with my parents: I have a ridiculously comfortable life, I have money and the power behind it to put me anywhere I want to go. Except there’s only one thing I want right now, and it’s on this side of the door. I walk beside Nate, and I take his hand. He squeezes mine tightly, relief echoing in the pressure of his fingers.

“You can’t be serious, Maura!” my mother cries. “You’re with
him
? You clearly haven’t thought this through!”

“Mom, I’ve been in love with him since I was 13. I’ve had almost a decade to think it through.”

“You’re 22 years old! What do you know about love?” she shouts.

“You certainly thought I was old enough last night when Ethan was proposing,” I argue.

“This is unbelievable!” she shouts. “First you make me a laughingstock in our community, then you get Jordan arrested, and now you’ve chosen some blue collar local over
Ethan
?”

“What do you mean I got Jordan arrested?” I gasp.

“Thanks to your little stunt last night, Stephen Mayhew told the police that Jordan helped destroy the walkways,” she says. “So I hope you’re happy.”

I feel Nate grow tense beside me. “Your son destroyed property and somehow that’s Maura fault?” he asks scathingly.

She turns to Nate. “No one was talking to you,” she snaps. “You’re not a part of this family. No matter how much you steal from us or use our daughter.”

Rage surges through me, but Nate speaks before I can. “We both know I haven’t stolen anything – you can check your father’s will if that’s not clear,” he says calmly, and then he turns, and he’s really talking only to me, “and I’m not using your daughter. I’m marrying her.”

My mother’s laugh is biting. “Maura doesn’t even want to get married. Which shows how little you know about her.”

“Actually, Mom,” I say, feeling the words rise out of me like tiny, happy bubbles. “I think I’ve changed my mind about that.”

Looking at Nate’s smile is like staring straight at the sun. “Really?” he asks, wide-eyed, forgetting my parents completely.

“Really,” I reply, forgetting them too.

“When?” he asks.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“I’m ready now,” he says.

“I cannot believe I am listening to this!” my mother yells. “Stop that this instant! You two barely know each other!”

I laugh, still looking only at Nate. “I know him better than anyone alive.”

“I won’t stand for it, Maura,” she says.

“You don’t have to stand for it, Mom. I’m 22. I don’t need your permission.”

“What about law school? I seem to recall you insisting you didn’t even want to
date
Ethan because you were leaving for school, but now you’re ready to get married?”

“Nate’s coming with me,” I tell them.

“We will cut you off, Maura, without a dime,” she warns.

“We don’t need your money,” says Nate.

“Maybe you don’t,” sneers my father. “But if she wants to go to law school she does.”

“Fine,” I reply. “I’ll use the trust.”

“You can’t access that trust until you’re 30,” he says triumphantly. “So you’d better re-think what’s going on here. And fast.”

“And you can forget about setting foot in our home again until you’ve come to your senses,” says my mother.

Nate shuts the door and leans against it, pulling me into him.

“We’ll find the money, baby, I promise,” he whispers into my hair.

I just shake my head. “Where? There’s nowhere we can get that kind of money, and it’s too late to apply for loans,” I say. I can’t believe I was so close, only to have the whole thing ripped out from under me.

“Maybe I can take out a mortgage on the carriage house,” he says. “We’ll have to talk to Peter to see if it’s legal, but I don’t see why it wouldn’t be.”

“No,” I say, trying to gather my voice back together into some semblance of strength. “I can’t take your money.”

He raises an eyebrow. “It’s
our
money. Or have you already forgotten that you just said you’d marry me?”

I laugh. “Oh, right.”

“Did you mean it?” he asks, tentatively. “Or were you just trying to piss off your mom?”

“Of course I meant it,” I say, placing my hands on either side of his worried face.

“Good,” he says softly. He leans down to kiss me, his mouth feather light against mine. He deepens the kiss, gripping my hips and pulling me forward, and I groan a little at the feel of him.

“I warned you about making that noise,” he says in a low voice, and he scoops me up and carries me to bed.

**

The next morning there is someone at the door again, but this time the knock is timid, almost childlike.

I half-expect to find a Girl Scout or a lost toddler, but instead I find Mia, who glances warily over her shoulder before she even speaks.

“I heard what happened,” she says. “I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you,” I say. “But it’s okay. I’m really happy.”

“I kind of figured that,” she says with a rueful smile. She pauses, and casts another anxious glance back at the house and the driveway. “I heard you weren’t allowed back in the house,” she says nervously. “I went in after your parents left and packed up what I could. It’s in my trunk.” She says it so apologetically you’d think she was telling me she’d lit my stuff on fire rather than rescuing it.

“Thank you so much, Mia,” I say, throwing my arms around her. “You know you could always come with us if you don’t feel like staying around to clean up Jordan’s mess.”

She shakes her head a little sadly. “I’ve made my choice,” she says. “But I just wanted you to know … I think you made a better one.”

**

We call Peter to set up a meeting, and he suggests we talk after Jordan’s hearing that afternoon. I agree reluctantly because I’m not sure that I’d planned on going. If my parents are blaming me for this, Jordan is too.

I sit in the courtroom with Nate beside me, thinking about how much things have changed in seven days. One week ago I was here with Ethan, feeling as if my life had ended. Thinking I’d lost the only person I’d ever loved. And now he’s beside me. No matter how awful the next hour will be, it pales in comparison to the last time I sat here. I squeeze his hand and when he smiles at me I feel weightless, buoyant, as if we’re here to get married rather than watch my brother get arraigned.

Jordan’s bail is set. He walks to my parents and Mia grimly, and never says a word to me as he leaves the courtroom. Nate and I turn to leave and my steps stutter to a halt. Ethan is against the back wall. And there are no words for the look he gives me.

What I did to him at the wedding is, arguably, the worst thing I’ve ever done in my life, but to have him find me with Nate two days later surpasses it. My behavior is absolutely inexcusable. And I wouldn’t change it for the world. Not for a moment do I wish Nate wasn’t beside me. Not for a moment am I anything less than overwhelmingly grateful for the pressure of his hand as we walk toward the back of the courtroom.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Nate says gently. “He knew you didn’t want to marry him. He asked the way he did to pressure you, and he deserved what he got.”

I know Nate’s right, but my stomach twists with dread as we reach Ethan. There is nothing I can say that will make this better. No heartfelt apology is going to fix it.

“I want to talk to you for a minute,” Ethan hisses. “Without
him
,” he adds, glaring at Nate.

Nate pauses, waiting for a signal from me before he drops my hand and backs away.

Ethan looks at me with disgust. “So the two of you are a
couple
now?” he asks.

“Yes,” I say, and as bad as I feel about the whole situation it’s hard not to smile. I’m with Nate now. It’s out, and no one can take it away from us this time. And I’m marrying him, which is about as real as it gets.

“And I guess this was going on all summer behind my back?” he asks.

“No, of course not,” I tell him. It’s sort of true. And sort of not. “I’m sorry,” I say, hoping he’ll at least hear the sincerity in the words. “About the wedding, about how things ended … I’m just sorry.”

“Is that all you have to say?” he snaps. “You humiliated me in front of 400 people, Maura, and all you have to say is ‘sorry’?”

“There’s nothing I can do to change the way things happened,” I tell him. “You shouldn’t have asked me in public. You knew I didn’t want that. You were just trying to shame me into it.”

“You don’t think about anyone but yourself,” he snarls. “Every decision is only about what
you
want, what’s best for
you
.”

Nate, sensing the increased hostility, comes back to my side.

“Who am I supposed to be thinking of when I’m making a decision that will affect the rest of my life?” I demand of Ethan. “You? Your parents?”

“Why don’t you ask me who you
shouldn’t
be thinking about, Maura? Because it shouldn’t be
him
!” he yells, looking at Nate. “No matter how many times we all try to set you straight, you go right back to him, don’t you?”

The chill in my spine puts me on alert. I grow still as the room around me grows chaotic, as Nate’s arm wraps around my hip and pulls me into him protectively, as the bailiffs begin moving toward us. “How exactly have you all tried to set me straight?” I ask.

“Do you know how many times I warned your grandparents about the two of you? Your grandfather would never listen. If he hadn’t died you’d probably still be fucking Nate out on the beach where anyone could see you!”

The rage I feel is lethal, so intense that I don’t want to waste my energy yelling. I’m saving it to wound. “It was you?” I ask, frighteningly calm. “You’re the one who told my grandmother?”

“Yes,” he sneers. “And all summer I had to put up with your good-girl routine, knowing what a little slut you used to be.”

Nate releases my waist and instinctively I step back, because I know what will happen next. When Nate’s fist connects with Ethan’s jaw, I’m not even vaguely surprised. And I’m not even vaguely guilty, because he’s part of the reason I spent five years away from Nate, and he deserves everything he gets.

Peter waits for us. He waits while the bailiffs rush to pull Ethan and Nate apart, while Ethan insists he wants to press charges for assault and the bailiffs ignore him. Finally we walk away, and I kiss the bruised hand that holds mine as Peter leads us to a conference room.

“Well that was interesting,” Peter laughs as we sit. He looks at our linked hands. “I guess you two figured it out then.”

“Figured what out?” I ask with an edge to my voice. It’s beginning to feel that everyone alive was somehow complicit in my grandmother’s plan, but I never dreamt Peter would be among them.

“Figured out that you were my spies,” he says with a question in his voice.

Nate and I look at each other in surprise.

“It was
you
who told us when they were tearing down the walkways?” he grins. “I had no idea you were so devious.”

“And you were the person who staked it out.” I smile, but the truth is the victory is a little hollow now. Would I have done it, if I’d known Jordan was involved? I’m not sure.

“I’m sorry about your brother,” Peter says.

I’m sorry too, in a way, but in another I am not. Maybe this will be a turning point for Jordan. Maybe the specter of prison will make him realize it’s time to be happy with what he has.

“You had some questions about the terms of Daniel’s will, is that correct?” he asks.

“Yes,” says Nate. “I know I can’t sell the carriage house unless the Pierces sell their house too, but what about taking out a mortgage on it?”

Peter shakes his head. “I seriously doubt you can get a mortgage on a property that’s entailed in that way.”

Our faces drop, and Nate squeezes my hand. “Then we’ll come up with something else.”

Peter looks back and forth between the two of us. “Uh, why on earth would
you
need money, Maura?”

I explain the situation, and both Nate and I sit for a moment, deflated, while Peter continues to look confused. “Maura, just because Nate can’t take out a mortgage doesn’t mean you can’t. That would give you more than enough to live off for quite some time.”

I laugh sadly. “I’m no expert on real estate law, but I’m pretty sure I’d have to own some property in order to take out a loan on it.”

His face goes from befuddled to astonished. “Maura, you
do
own property. You own the mansion.”

I laugh again. “No I don’t.”

“I administered your grandfather’s will. I think I’d know,” he says. “Are you telling me your parents kept that from you?” he asks angrily.

“I wasn’t there when the will was read,” I explain, knowing even as I say it that it’s no excuse.

He is aghast. “But we sent you letters. There were documents you signed and returned … ” he trails off, shaking his head. “It’s unconscionable. And if they forged those documents, it’s also illegal.”

He pulls a copy of the will out of the folder in front of him and hands it to me. I see my name, my grandfather’s signature, and watch the document shake a little in my hand.