The Islanders (2 page)

THE WHISTLE SHRIEKED, OBLITERATING EVERY
other sound. The ferry strained and vibrated and churned the dark water to a cheerier blue-green. It pulled back from the dock, turning clumsily away from the already failing sun, and pointed its blunt nose across the cold, oily chop toward the island.

Nina Geiger pulled the red-and-white pack of Lucky Strikes from her purse, extracted one cigarette, and popped it in the corner of her mouth. She drew deeply on it and exhaled contentedly.

The young man on the bench behind her leaned forward over her shoulder. “Do you need a light?” A yellow plastic lighter was in his hand.

“No thanks, I don't smoke,” Nina said, speaking around the cigarette. She turned to Zoey Passmore, a willowy blonde seated beside her. “The guy's trying to kill me,” Nina said with mock outrage.

Zoey refused to look up from her book. Nina bent forward
and looked past Zoey to Aisha Gray. “What's with Zoey?”

“Studying,” Aisha said with a shrug. Her eyes were closed and her head tilted back to savor the cool breeze on her face. Her mass of black curls floated and bounced like something alive.

“She doesn't need to study,” Nina said to Aisha.

“Yes,
she
does,” Zoey muttered.

“I'm the one who needs to study,” Nina said. “Algebra. It's only the third week of school and I'm already four weeks behind.”

“Who do you have for algebra?” Aisha asked, cracking open one eye.

“Ms. Lehr.”

“You don't have to study for Ms. Lehr's class,” Aisha said.

“Maybe
you
don't have to study for algebra, but trust me,” Nina said, “I do. You can't b.s. algebra. History you can b.s. English is the ultimate b.s. subject. But not math. Math is either right or wrong.”

“Aisha's right,” Zoey said, still studying the book open on her lap. “I had her last year. You can't get less than a
B
-plus in Ms. Lehr's class.”

“Watch me,” Nina said.

Zoey looked up at last, turning amused blue eyes on her friend. “You're not listening, Nina. Ms. Lehr is all into
self-esteem. Everything is self-esteem. She took some seminar or something where they taught her that students have to have self-esteem, and you can't have self-esteem when you're flunking algebra, right? So she gives everyone a good grade.”

“No way.”

Aisha held up her hand as if taking an oath. “True fact.”

Nina laughed. “You're saying I can blow every test—”

“And you'll get a
B
-plus,” Zoey said. “If you want an A-plus, you have to work a little harder.”

Nina thought it over for a moment. “Wait a minute. How about if I tell Ms. Lehr that my self-esteem will be crushed unless I get an
A
?”

Zoey and Aisha exchanged a look.

“Damn,” Aisha said.

“Never thought of that,” Zoey admitted.

The ferry was up to top speed now, heading across the harbor with its cargo of high school students, homeward-bound shoppers loaded with bags, and early commuters hunched over folded newspapers. The trip to Chatham Island took twenty-five minutes.

Nina saw her sister, Claire, come up from the lower deck. She appeared first as a head of glossy, long black hair rising from the stairwell, then step by step revealed the body that had half the guys at Weymouth High quivering.
Okay, three quarters of the
guys
, Nina corrected herself.

Claire glanced at Nina, then looked away, searching the deck uncertainly for a place to sit. Nina felt a momentary twinge of sympathy but suppressed it. Claire could take care of herself.

Jake McRoyan was leaning against the forward railing, looking thoughtful and distant, his big football player's shoulders hunched forward. Zoey's brother, Benjamin, was toward the back with his earphones on, staring sightlessly ahead through his Ray Bans and taking an occasional bite from a Snickers bar.

Poor Claire
, Nina thought, without too much pity. Trying to find a safe, neutral place to sit, somewhere between her two ex-boyfriends and her sister.

Zoey nudged Nina in the side. She too had caught sight of Claire. “Come on,” Zoey said. “It won't kill you to be nice to your sister.”

Nina made a face. Zoey was a hopelessly nice person. But then, Zoey had spent her life growing up with kind, considerate, decent Benjamin as her only sibling, while Nina had grown up under the ruthless tyranny of Perfect Claire. Ice Princess. Holder of the Record for Early Breast Development. Claire the Zit-proof. Claire of the perfect taste in clothing who had never once worn anything to school that caused large numbers of people to wince and turn away. Claire who must have sold her soul to the devil because she certainly didn't have one that Nina had ever—

“Come on, Nina,” Zoey said in a chiding voice that Nina hated.

Nina growled at Zoey. Then she called out, “Oh, Clai-aire.”

Claire came over, looking reserved as always and a little skeptical. “Yes?”

“Would you like to join us?” Nina said, using her fingers to squeeze her mouth into a happy smile.

Claire rolled her eyes. “It's come to this. You're actually feeling sorry for me.”

“No, we're not,” Zoey said quickly.

“Yes, we are,” Nina told her sister. “No one's ever seen you looking pathetic and lost and boyfriendless before.”

Claire sat down beside Nina. “So, of course, you're enjoying it,” she said dryly.

“No, we're not,” Zoey said sincerely.

Aisha made a so-so gesture with her hand.

“You bet we're enjoying it,” Nina said. “At least I was.”

“How are things between you and Jake?” Zoey asked. “I mean, we haven't really talked since . . . since that night.”

Claire shrugged, her eyes uncharacteristically troubled. “I told him everything. He told me to get out.”

Aisha and Zoey stared at her expectantly.

“That's it,” Claire said.

“You know, you're quite a storyteller,” Nina said. “You really made the moment come alive.”

“I went to his room. He was asleep, so I knocked louder. He eventually woke up, and I told him the truth,” Claire said simply. “I said, ‘Hi, Jake, you know how for the last two years you blamed Lucas for crashing the car the night your brother was killed? Well, guess what? It's all come back to me now, and it turns out
I'm
the one who was driving. I ran the car into that tree. Surprise!'” She shook her head. The lightness in her voice had turned to bitterness. “Then he told me he never wanted to speak to me again.” She paused, her eyes studying her hands. “Does that make the moment come alive for you?”

Nina lowered her gaze. “Sorry.”

“Yeah, so am I,” Claire said sharply. “Sorry about what happened two years ago, sorry I didn't remember, sorry Lucas suffered. Where is he, by the way? I could grovel for him a little.”

“He's at his parole officer's. He still has to go until you guys get all the legal stuff cleared up,” Zoey said.

“Excellent,” Claire said. “Another thing for me to be sorry about.”

“Well,” Nina said, for lack of anything better to say.

“You know, we're all still your friends,” Zoey said, reaching across Nina to put her hand on Claire's arm.

“Really,” Aisha joined in. “What happened two years ago is ancient history. And just because it took you a week longer than it should have to decide to do the right thing, that's not going to turn us against you. It's not like we ever thought you were Joan of Arc.”

“We know how hard it was for you,” Zoey said. “And I know Lucas is cool with it.”

To Nina's amazement, her sister actually looked touched. Claire nodded mutely and looked away. For a moment Nina was afraid Claire might actually cry. It was an unnerving possibility.

“So. All forgiven, all forgotten,” Nina said cheerily. “I guess there's nothing left now but the big group hug.”

Claire gave her sister a dubious look.

“Anyway, we're all friends, right?” Zoey asked hopefully. “I mean, you know, island solidarity and all.”

“I am glad you guys don't hate me,” Claire admitted.

“I never hated you,” Aisha said. “By the time I found out what was going on, it was all over.”

“
I
still can't stand you, Claire,” Nina said helpfully.

Claire smiled her rare, wintry smile. “We're sisters, Nina. We're not supposed to get along. Although Dad will probably want us to try, for a while at least.”

“What do you mean?” Nina asked. “He knows better.”

“You know. While Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle Mark are here.”

Nina felt her heart thud. The unlit cigarette fell from her mouth and rolled across the gray-painted steel deck. “What are you talking about?” she demanded.

“Didn't Dad tell you? They're doing the leaf-peeping thing through Vermont and New Hampshire, then they're coming to stay with us for a week. What is the matter with you, are you choking?”

Nina realized her hand was clutching at the collar of her shirt. She forced herself to release her grip. “I better pick up that cig,” Nina said in a low voice. She bent over to retrieve the cigarette, but her fingers were trembling. She took a deep breath and sat back up.

“Are you okay?” Claire asked.

“Fine,” Nina said with forced cheerfulness. “Fine.”

“So,” Nina's father said, smiling at Claire down the length of the elegantly set dinner table, “how come we never seem to see Benjamin over here for dinner anymore?”

Nina snickered and looked down at her plate. Claire shot her a dirty look.

“Benjamin and I have sort of gone our separate ways,” Claire said.

“Well. I guess I'm always the last to know,” Mr. Geiger said, grinning ruefully. Then he looked more serious. “This
isn't because of . . . that whole thing, is it?”

That whole thing
. Nina turned the phrase over in her mind. That's what the car accident and Wade McRoyan's death, Claire's memory blackout, Lucas's false imprisonment, and Mr. Geiger's attempt to cover up the truth was going to be called.
That whole thing
. Nicely succinct.

“No, Dad,” Claire said, sipping at her soup. “It just, uh . . . sort of happened.”

“Yeah,” said Nina, “it turns out Benjamin's been drunk continuously for the last couple of years. He finally sobered up, realized he'd been going out with Claire this whole time, and broke up with her immediately.”

“Too bad,” Mr. Geiger said, sparing Nina no more than a distracted glance. “I always liked Ben. I admire the way he's been able to deal with being blind. Never any whining or self-pity. Half the time you forget he can't see.”

“I know, Dad,” Claire said impatiently. “He's the son you never had.”

“I'm just saying he's a hell of a young man,” Mr. Geiger persisted.

“What do you think of Jake McRoyan?” Nina asked brightly, seizing the opportunity. Claire sent her a look that would freeze lava.

Mr. Geiger shrugged. “Good kid, I guess. Stays out of trouble,
from what I hear. His father's a sensible businessman, does a good job running the marina. Why, are you seeing him?”

“No, not me,” Nina said.

“Nina's only sixteen,” Claire said sweetly. “She's not really interested in guys yet, even though every other junior in the school is.”

The barb struck home, but Nina tried to laugh it off.

Janelle, the family's housekeeper, came in and traded the soup bowls for plates of codfish and red potatoes.

“Claire said Aunt Elizabeth is maybe coming for a visit,” Nina said suddenly, struggling to control the faint quaver in her voice.

Her father nodded as he chewed. “They're not positive, but it looks like it. Which reminds me—Janelle?”

Janelle stopped at the door and turned. “Yes?”

“You'd better air out the two spare bedrooms and get them ready for the weekend, just in case.”

“Ayuh,” Janelle said. She was the only person Nina had ever known who actually used the classic Maine response.

“Both bedrooms?” Claire asked.

Mr. Geiger looked embarrassed. “Sometimes when people get older, they decide it's easier to sleep in separate bedrooms. If they do come, you two will have to use my bathroom, God help me, and leave them the other bathroom.”

“Better give Aunt Elizabeth the front bedroom,” Nina suggested. “You know, it has the view of the lighthouse and all.”

Mr. Geiger shook his head. “My sister is the early riser of those two, and the back bedroom gets the early morning light. Besides, if I don't give your uncle Mark the good room, he'll think I'm mistreating him. He's got it into his head that I don't like him. He's defensive because I've always made more money than he does.”

“So what?” Nina persisted. “Who cares what he thinks? I like Aunt E. better anyway. She should have the better room. After all, she's a blood relation.”

“Who cares what room they stay in?” Claire asked, wrinkling her forehead in annoyance. “What's the difference to you?”

“I'm just trying to be fair,” Nina said sullenly. She finished the rest of her meal and pushed away the plate. “I think I'll pass on dessert. I have a raft of homework to do.”

Nina left the dining room and climbed the stairs to the second story. The back bedroom was just to her left. Nina opened the door and looked inside. It was nicely decorated, like all of the Geiger house, but had the sterile feel of a guest room, with no personal touches or sign that it had been occupied.

She closed the door and slowly, carefully paced off the distance from that door, around the open stairwell, down the hall
to her own bedroom. Sixteen paces, maybe even seventeen.

Then Nina crossed over to the other spare bedroom and looked inside. It was a nicer room, no question about it, with two tall windows looking out over the northernmost point of the island and the little lighthouse on its rocky islet.