On a Night Like This (24 page)

“Will you listen to me?”

“No. I don’t want to listen to you. You’ll tell me my daughter is lying, and I don’t believe that. It’s easier to believe that you’re a monster, and I’m a fool for not seeing that.”

“I would never touch Amanda,” Luke said.

“I’m just calling to ask for the cabin. Can we have it?”

“Yes. Of course.”

“You can’t stay here. I don’t want you here ever again.”

“Blair—”

“Just leave, and put the key under the mat. Don’t show up or I’ll kill you. We’ll stay for a while—I don’t know—until she’s better.”

“I can’t bear this, Blair.”

“We’ll be there tomorrow. And you better be nowhere near the place.”

She hung up the phone.

She sat there, her body shaking. She felt her heart pounding in her chest. Her body felt weak, as if she could crumble on the spot. She didn’t want to stand up, didn’t want to reach for her glass of wine on the bookshelf, didn’t want to tell Amanda that they were leaving tomorrow.

She would borrow the car from Casey. They would leave tomorrow.

Amanda seemed to sit up straighter as they drove into the Santa Cruz Mountains. She kept her head to the side, staring out the window, or avoiding her mother’s glances.

Blair felt sick, worse than she had yet, and knew that some progression of the illness had started, knew in her bones that she would not feel right again.

“I love it here,” Amanda said quietly when they turned off onto one of the small roads heading up the mountain. The woods closed in on them, creating a canopy of leaves over their heads. “It feels safe,” she said.

Blair smiled. She followed the curve of the road, hugging the side of the mountain, hiding her nervousness about Luke. That he would be there. Or that even the feel of him in the place would disturb Amanda. She thought about the feel of Luke in that cabin and realized she was worried for herself, worried that she’d be hit by the loss of him finally. And she wasn’t ready for that.

She remembered the turnoff, the long driveway, the warm glow of the cabin as the sun hit it in the early morning. He was gone—no truck in sight. Sweetpea was whining in the backseat, an echo to the sound in Blair’s own heart.

She stopped the car, and Sweetpea pushed herself up toward the front seat, urging them out of the car.

“She’s happy to be home,” Amanda said.

Blair nodded, looking at the cabin, not quite ready for it.

“It’s cute,” Amanda said. “Now we’ll be hermits.”

“For a week,” Blair said. “That’s all.”

Amanda opened the door, and Sweetpea climbed over her, racing up the path to the cabin, back to Amanda, back up the path again. Blair sat watching them.
Does Sweetpea miss Luke?
Blair wondered.
Does she feel his absence like an ache in the heart?

She saw Amanda stop at the door, turn back and wait for her. She had to propel herself forward.
What kind of ridiculous idea is this,
she thought.
Heal my daughter. Ruin myself.

She pushed the door open and forced herself out of the car. The cool air slapped at her, alerted her.
Wake up. Find the energy. He’s not here. He’s gone.

She walked to the front door, lifted the mat, found the key. Sweetpea pranced around them impatiently.

Blair opened the door and let the light sweep through the one-room cabin.

“Wow,” Amanda said. “It’s so cool.”

It was clean, neat, ordered. Not like Blair had seen it last time. That helped. But it was inviting, with its warm woods, upholstered armchair, small dining table with its two chairs. As if he had eaten there for months, waiting for her to fill the second chair.

She wouldn’t look toward the bed. She wouldn’t imagine Luke in the armchair, at the stove, sitting with her at the table, eating pancakes. She breathed deeply and imagined that the smell was the cabin smell, not the man smell.

“I want to go for a walk,” Amanda said. “It’s all so beautiful.”

“Go ahead,” Blair said, relieved that Amanda was being Amanda again. “Take Sweetpea.”

“Don’t you want to come?” Amanda asked.

Blair couldn’t look at her, couldn’t let herself feel her daughter’s need. Maybe it was better for her to walk on her own anyway.

“You go ahead. I’ll unpack, get us moved in.”

“Where do I go?”

“Follow the path behind the cabin. It leads up the hill for a while. You’ll come to a meadow that’s filled with wildflowers.”

“Cool,” Amanda said. She headed out the door, Sweetpea on her heels. When she left, Blair moved to the back window and watched her daughter come around to the back of the house and head up the trail. Amanda looked better than she had for days, her step lighter, easier.
She’ll get better,
Blair thought. She turned away from the window.

She looked at the bed, neatly made, pillows stacked high. She moved toward it hesitantly. She lay down and placed her hands on her heart and began to cry.

Chapter Twelve

L
uke drove down the mountain, taking the long route to 280 so that he wouldn’t pass Blair’s car as she headed to his cabin. He had cleaned all morning, thrown a few things in the back of his truck, set out for the city with one mission: to find out what had happened to Amanda.

He didn’t think she would lie—he wanted to give her more credit than that. She was drunk—was she drunk enough to imagine something and decide it was real?

He would start with the theory, though, that something had happened, that someone else had come into the cottage and tried to rape her. He had to discount all scenarios before he faced the real possibility of a hatred so profound that she had invented the story to destroy him.

He drove into the city along 280, wishing he were heading toward Blair, instead of away from her. He didn’t know where he would go, what he would do. He imagined that Emily was back at the house on Potrero Hill. She had miscarried that night—all the time he was in the hospital with her, taking care of her, someone was undoing the life he had created with Blair. He wanted to hate Emily for pulling him away that night, and he wanted to blame her for everything that followed. But he couldn’t. Instead, he felt a terrible pity and sadness.

When the doctor had told them it was a miscarriage, Emily had cried for a long time.

“I wanted the baby,” she told him sadly.

“I know,” he said. She lay in the emergency room, her hair damp against her face, her skin pale against the white sheets. He sat at her side and thought about the months ahead with Blair. He had vowed to keep her out of the hospital.

“You can come back,” Emily had said, her voice almost a whisper. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand on her arm. “We can try to start a family.”

“No,” Luke had told her gently.

When the doctors advised that she spend the night in the hospital so they could continue to monitor her, Luke had said good-bye. He had leaned over and kissed her cheek, felt her arm wrap around his neck and press him to her.

And then he had driven back to Blair’s cottage. As he drove through the streets of the Haight, he had remembered a moment from high school. His creative-writing teacher had called on Blair Clemens, the girl who had been raped on the beach only months before. “Miss Clemens,” the man had said, his voice a rumble through the classroom. “What’s the worst thing that could happen to the character in your story?” And Blair’s voice was clearer than he had ever heard it. “She could be raped.”

When Luke got to Blair’s cottage that night, she had called him a rapist.

Luke took 101 into the city and headed to the Haight again. He drove to Blair’s cottage, found a parking space in front and sat in his truck, staring down the long driveway that ran behind the purple Victorian. He looked over at the porch of the big house, remembering Casey, the landlord. Maybe he had heard something. If he wasn’t too stoned to notice. Luke would start with him.

He got out of the truck. The house looked deserted, but then it always did. There were no curtains on any of the windows, and the windows stared blankly at him, as if the house had been emptied. Ghosts might roam the hallways there, but there was no sound of humans, no light, no visible movement within.

Luke walked up to the door and paused for a moment. He hated the guy, irrationally perhaps. Because he had tried to keep Luke away from Blair? Because he claimed a familiarity with Blair that he didn’t deserve, just for being her landlord? Maybe he would be jealous of any man who had known Blair for all those years when she was absent from his own life. Yes, it wasn’t rational. The guy was just a rich hippie, with a great tenant.

He rang the doorbell. The sound echoed within the house. He waited a moment, then rang again. He turned and looked back at the street just as Casey ambled down the sidewalk.

Casey walked with a long, lanky stride, his arms wrapped around a grocery bag. He looked over at Luke and nodded, the barest recognition, then started up the path.

“I’m Luke. I don’t think we officially met.”

“Yeah. I’m Casey. Hey, where’d Blair go? She borrowed my car and disappeared.” He stood a few steps away from Luke, at the bottom of the stairs, eyeing him, holding his bag in front of him. He squinted at Luke, though there was no sun in his eyes.

“She and Amanda went to my place in the Santa Cruz Mountains for a week.”

“How come?”

“Vacation.”

Casey looked away then and rearranged the bag in his other arm.

“You want a beer?” he offered.

Luke shook his head. He hadn’t even eaten breakfast.

“Are they OK? Blair and Amanda?”

“Yeah,” Luke said. “They’re OK.”

Casey fidgeted with the bag, then put it down. He reached inside, pulled out a Budweiser can, flipped back the top and drank. When he was done, he sat down on the steps, his back to Luke.

“Whadda you want?” he asked, his voice low.

Luke took a step down and sat next to Casey.

“Were you home last Tuesday night?”

“What are you, a fucking cop?”

Luke reached over, into the bag, and pulled out a beer. “No, man. I’m not a cop. I’m trying to help them out.”

He opened the beer and took a long drink. He felt exhausted already and hadn’t found out a damn thing.

“What’s wrong with them?” Casey asked.

“You hear any noises or anything? Tuesday night. Sometime after ten?”

“What kind of noises?”

“Screams. Amanda might have screamed.”

Casey looked at Luke for a quick second, then looked away.

“She didn’t scream,” he said. “She never screamed.”

Casey put his beer down by his feet. He hung his head low, between his knees. Luke could see his back rising and falling with his deep breaths. He waited for him. Finally Casey sat up and stared ahead of him, out toward the street.

“I got high. A woman was supposed to come over—Fran, someone I get together with once in a while—but she didn’t show. I thought we were going to make love, and then I felt sort of awful about spending the whole night by myself, no woman. I get high and want sex the way some people want food. And Blair’s cool—I mean, she was until she got sick. Then she didn’t want to screw around anymore. And you were hanging around all the time. I was sitting outside smoking when you left. I figured you had a fight and she kicked you out. She’d be lying there, wanting sex, just like me.”

He stopped, and Luke closed his eyes, imagining the rest of the story without hearing it. But Casey’s voice went on, smooth and quiet like it could slip right past him, never bother a soul. Already Luke wasn’t breathing right, couldn’t seem to find enough air in his chest.

“I got a key. Hell, it’s my place. I go in, see Blair’s door open. It’s dark, but I figure she’s lying in bed, and, damn, she’ll be happy when I slip in there with her. I go into her room, and she’s sleeping. No noise, just the soft sound of her breathing. So I take my clothes off and slide under the covers. I’m as high as a fucking kite. There’s nothing like waking a woman like that. It’s a rush, man. So I’m ready for her, just like that, and she’s moving in her sleep like she wants me, and then I start to climb onto her and she’s pushing me away, pushing herself to the other side of the bed, and, goddamn it, it’s Amanda. How the fuck am I supposed to know it’s the kid? In her mother’s bed. I mean, they’re the same size and the lights are out and fuck it all if it wasn’t the kid.”

He picked up the beer and was about to take a swig when Luke slammed it away from him. The can flew past him, beer spraying.

“What the hell,” Casey mumbled.

Luke stood, pulling Casey up by his shirt.

“Goddamn you,” Luke said, his anger surging through him so that his whole body trembled. “She’s a kid. A sixteen-year-old girl.”

Luke punched him, a solid punch that connected with his jaw. Casey was loose, a bag of bones, waiting to be hit. He flew back and dropped to the ground. He lay there, not moving, his body breathing hard, his face lowered to the dirt.

Luke watched him a moment, feeling the punch reverberate in his own body. “You’re a monster,” he spat.

“Tell her I’m sorry,” Casey muttered, his voice barely audible.

Luke walked away. He got in the truck and drove back to the mountains.

Luke drove up the long driveway to his cabin, saw Blair’s car, heard Sweetpea’s barking. He hadn’t let go of his rage at Casey. Now, for a moment, he could begin to feel something else—relief. Perhaps hope.

He parked behind the car and walked up to the front door. It swung open before he reached it.

“Get the hell out of here,” Blair said.

She stepped out and pulled the door closed behind her. Blocking him from her daughter.

“I know who did it,” he said.

She stood, staring at him.

“Listen to me, Blair.”

She shook her head but didn’t say a word, didn’t move away from him.

“It was Casey,” Luke said. “He saw me leave, let himself in, thought he’d have sex with you. Amanda was in your bed.”

Blair stared at him, her expression confused. She looked angry enough to slug him—and then, a second later, she looked scared, ready to flee. Her skin was white, her eyes swollen as if she had been crying.

“Casey?” she asked, taking it in.

Luke nodded. “I would never—”

Blair sank to the ground, sitting there.

“Casey,” she said weakly.

“I think I broke his jaw,” Luke said.

She looked up at him. Her eyes were still dark, angry.

“How could you have imagined . . . ,” Luke started to say.

“I don’t know,” Blair said. “It was crazy. She was so sure.”

Blair patted the ground next to her, and Luke moved toward her, sat down next to her, took her in his arms. She began to cry, and he pressed her to him. Her body shook with her tears.
She’s gotten so thin,
Luke thought, feeling her ribs as he held her.

“I’m sorry I thought it was you,” she said into his neck, hanging on to him.

“Shh,” Luke said. “You had to believe her.”

“But I couldn’t,” Blair said, looking up at him. “I couldn’t make sense of it.”

“And I couldn’t believe she would lie,” Luke said. “She wouldn’t do that.”

“Stay here,” Blair said. “I’ll go tell her.”

She got up, wiped her eyes on her sleeve and walked back into the house.

Luke sat for a long time, Sweetpea at his feet, looking out at the forest in front of him. Sweetpea seemed happy to be home.
Maybe I’m home, too,
Luke thought.

When the door opened, it was Amanda who came out and sat beside him. He looked at her, imagined Casey pushing himself on her, felt rage like a stone in his gut.

“I thought it was you,” she said quietly.

“I would never do something like that,” Luke said.

She looked away from him, stared out toward the trees.

“It was awful,” she said.

“I believe you,” Luke said.

“I was so confused. I thought maybe you liked me—”

“I love you, Amanda,” Luke said. “Like a daughter. Don’t you know that?”

She looked at him quickly, then lowered her head.
My daughter,
he thought.

Amanda glanced at him, then shrugged. “I guess. I mean, I felt that. But you’re still a guy. And you wrote that story. I don’t know.”

“You know what I kept thinking these past few days?” Luke said. He felt Amanda’s eyes on him, but he looked straight ahead. “I couldn’t stand losing Blair. It would kill me. But there was something else. Something new. I couldn’t stand the idea of losing you in my life.”

Amanda put her hand on his elbow and kept it there. They were quiet a moment.

“You beat him up?” she finally asked.

Luke smiled. “One solid punch. He deserves more.”

“Good,” Amanda said, nodding.

Luke put his hand over hers.

“I don’t want to go back there,” she said.

“You can stay here,” Luke told her.

“I have school,” she said.

“We’ll figure that out.”

The door opened, and Blair stood there, looking down at them.

“I made soup,” she said. “Should we invite the hermit for lunch?”

Amanda nodded.

They sat at the table, with a third chair added, which Luke brought in from the workshop. They were cautious with each other. Amanda talked about her hike with Sweetpea earlier in the day. Blair told them about a time when she was young and spent a summer in a cabin in the Sierras with her parents. Luke watched them talking, listened and smiled. He had never imagined both of them here, in his private one-room cabin. He felt incredibly lucky.

After lunch Amanda sat outside in the sun with a book to read. Luke stood at the doorway while Blair brought her a glass of lemonade. In just a few days Blair’s body seemed changed, too thin, too frail. She moved as if each step hurt. Watching her, Luke’s heart ached.

Amanda took the drink and placed it on the arm of the chair. Blair bent over and kissed Amanda’s head, then rested her cheek there, as if she couldn’t pull herself away.

She must have felt Luke’s attention—she looked up and smiled.

“Want to go for a walk?” she asked.

“Can you?”

“A slow walk,” Blair said.

They headed to the trail, Sweetpea at their side. Luke took Blair’s hand and she let him hold it tightly in his.

“Can you give Amanda and me one night alone?” Blair asked him.

“Of course,” Luke said. Too quickly. He felt the pain of his disappointment. “I’ll miss you,” he added.

“I know,” she told him. “But I need a night alone with Amanda. To see how she is. About your being with us.”

“She’s OK with me,” Luke said. “I can see that.”

“I know you’re right. Maybe it’s for me,” Blair said.

Luke looked at her, but she was watching the ground in front of her as she walked.

“Why?” Luke asked.

“Just one night,” Blair said. “Come back tomorrow.”

“Don’t change your mind tomorrow,” Luke said, taking her hand again. “I’ve missed too much time with you already.”

“I’m getting sick now,” Blair said. “It’s happening so quickly.”

“I’ll take care of you,” Luke told her.