The Perfect Comeback of Caroline Jacobs (21 page)

“Sorry,” she shouted through the glass.

Caroline lowered the window.

“Sorry,” she repeated. “I didn't mean to scare you. It's just that I thought of something.”

“What?” Caroline asked.

“We did talk about a place. Not exactly a hangout, but it might be worth a try.”

twenty-four

“I can't believe it's still here,” Caroline said, staring up into the tree.

“It's built with pressure-treated lumber,” Emily said. “What did you expect?”

“How do you know what pressure-treated lumber is?” Caroline asked.

Emily opened her mouth to answer but Caroline cut her short.

“Never mind. You'll just make me feel stupid.”

Emily smiled. “We built that deck onto the house a few years ago. I learned about it then. Your father built this. Right?”

“Yup. The only decent thing the man ever did that I'm aware of.”

“Do you know where he is today?”

“Dead,” Caroline said. “Heart attack.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It's okay,” Caroline said. “I only found out that he died because of his will.”

“Didn't make you rich. Huh?”

“He left me four hundred dollars. I gave it to charity.”

The two stood silent for a moment. Caroline stared at the tree house, wondering how a man who could put so much of his time and effort into something like this could just disappear two year later. He loved her enough to build something to last a quarter century but couldn't stick around long enough to keep it in the family. Tears welled in her eyes. She knew that she wasn't the best parent in the world, and there were days when she felt like she was the worst, but she never felt as bad as her own father had been.

“Do you think Polly's up there?”

Caroline shrugged She cupped her hands over her mouth and shouted in the direction of the tree house. “Polly!”

“Could she be ignoring you?” Emily asked.

“That's entirely possible.”

“Should we go up and check?”

“You mean climb the tree?” Caroline asked.

“Yeah. It looks safe.” Emily motioned to the rectangular wedges that had been nailed into the tree to form a ladder.

“Let me guess,” Caroline said. “Pressure-treated wood?”

“Probably. But I bet that ladder has been replaced since our day. The nail heads don't look rusted and the wood looks too new. I'm sure it's safe. C'mon. Let's go up.”

“I don't know if I can.”

“Oh, c'mon,” Emily said. “Don't make me start bullying you again.”

Caroline couldn't help herself. She smiled. It took a couple minutes for the two of them to negotiate the ladder and emerge through a hole in the platform and onto the deck.

“It looks so small,” Emily said, ducking her head to avoid a tree limb. “Not like I remember.”

“I know. I can't believe our parents used to let us play up here. It's so dangerous. We could've fallen off easy.”

Emily laughed. “My mom used to drive us around in the back of her pickup truck. Remember? This was nothing.”

Caroline stepped over to the tree house and peered inside the doorway. “Polly?”

“No luck?” Emily asked.

“Wait.” Caroline crouched even lower and went inside. At the other side of the room was a small plastic bag from CVS and a large, yellow envelope.

“What is it?” Emily asked, poking her head through the door.

“Polly was here,” Caroline said, holding up the bag and the envelope.

“How do you know?”

Caroline opened the bag so Emily could see the inside. “Charleston Chews and Red Bull. That's Polly.” She raised the envelope. “And this is mine. She must've lifted it from my purse.”

“I didn't even know they still made Charleston Chews. I used to love them.”

“I remember,” Caroline said. “We both did.”

“There's one left,” Emily said. “Want to split it?”

“Sure.”

“What's in the envelope?” Emily asked.

“Photographs. Some of my work.”

“Can I see?”

She passed the envelope across to Emily and sat down, feeling unexpected butterflies in her stomach.

Emily pulled out half a dozen large glossy prints and flipped through them, pausing for a moment on each one. “These are amazing,” Emily said. “The way you catch the light on the web is so beautiful. I had no idea that you were so talented.”

“Thanks,” Caroline said. A compliment from Emily meant so much. Caroline hated herself for it.

Late morning was transitioning to early afternoon. The sun had moved almost directly overhead, casting them in dark shadows. Emily pulled the candy bar apart and handed a piece to Caroline. “So that's good,” she said. “Polly probably spent the night here just to spite you, like Jane said. She might be on her way to your mom's house right now.”

“Yeah. I should text Tom and let him know.” She removed her phone from her pocket and began typing.

“This must be weird for you,” Emily said. “This was your tree house first, and now it belongs to some other kid.”

“Do you know that a kid even lives here?”

“Guess not,” Emily said. “Polly might've been the first person to use it in a long time.”

Caroline smiled. She and Emily had assumed the same positions they did as children, sitting opposite one another, a candy bar between them. “Those were such good days,” she said.

“They were,” Emily said between bites.

“Until I married Tom and had Polly, those were probably my best days,” Caroline said.

Caroline saw the tears, but couldn't believe it. But they were there, pouring down Emily's cheeks like two tiny rivers.

“I didn't mean to drag you up here and make you cry. It's fine. Seriously, Emily. I didn't mean—”

“Don't.” She held up her hand, motioning Caroline to stop. To wait. She took a deep breath and wiped the tears from her eyes. “Do you remember the day I broke my leg and you dragged me home?”

“You broke your ankle. Not your leg. And I didn't drag you home. I dragged you to the Benders' house. Our parents were at work.”

“You're right,” Emily said. “I forgot about that. Actually I'd forgotten about that whole day until you mentioned how dangerous it was up here for kids.”

“Okay?” Caroline wasn't sure where this was going.

Emily wiped away more tears. “You're right,” she said, her soft voice quavering. “I was awful.”

Caroline didn't know what to say.

“I've known it forever,” Emily said. “And I know you're going to want to punch me in the face for saying this, but it's been hard on me, too.”

“You're right,” Caroline said. “I do want to punch you. Apparently runs in my family.”

“I know it's awful to say, but it's true. I avoid this street whenever I can so I don't have to drive by your old house. And I've never brought my kids to Harris Pond because I can't stand all the memories of the two of us there. And I try to avoid the cafeteria at the high school whenever I can. They have all these fruit punch and cookie receptions after concerts and soccer games, but I'm always trying to skip them. I can't stand to even think about that place.”

“Then why do you keep telling me to get over it?”

“Because when your oldest friend shows up on your doorstep claiming that you ruined her life, it's not exactly the easiest thing to accept, even if you regret what you did. I always knew that I had acted like a bitch, but I had no idea how badly I had ruined things for you.”

“You didn't ruin things.”

“I didn't make it any easier,” Emily said. “You said so yourself.”

Part of her wanted to tell Emily that it was meaningless high school drama that happens all the time, but she stopped. She wasn't going to pretend for the sake of Emily. “No,” she said again. “It didn't make it any easier.”

“I know. I still can't believe what I did.”

“Why, em? Why did you do it?”

Emily took a moment to collect herself. When she began speaking this time, it was almost in a whisper. “You were shy. And kind of awkward.” She paused for a moment, and then even softer, almost inaudible, “And poor.” She shook her head. “You get one chance at high school. Four years and that's it. And I wanted it to be good. I wanted to be popular. I wanted it to be like it is in the movies. And you know what? It was. I had to be a bitch to make it happen, but I married my high school sweetheart and the captain of the baseball team. I was prom queen during our junior and senior year. As awful as I was, Jane and Jack wouldn't exist today if I hadn't done the things I did.”

“You think that you and Randy wouldn't be together today if you hadn't dumped me that day in the cafeteria.”

“Yeah,” Emily said. “I do. I didn't just dump you that day. That was the day I decided that I was going to be popular no matter what it took. I had one chance at making high school great and I was going to take it.”

“Even if it meant hurting me in the process,” Caroline said.

“Yeah, I guess so. And look where it's got me. My prom king is going to leave me for some younger woman.”

“You don't know that,” Caroline said.

“I kind of do.”

They sat in silence for a while, gnawing on Charleston Chews and staring at the floorboards. Caroline found herself mesmerized by the simplicity of Emily's rationale. She wanted to be popular, and that meant ditching her shy, awkward, poor friend in the pursuit of popularity. It made sense. As cruel as it was, it made perfect sense.

It happened in the movies all the time.

She wondered if she would've done the same thing had she been in Emily's place. No. Not a chance in hell. She was a lot of things (or maybe not enough things), but she was not a bully. Even in the pursuit of popularity, she never would have done what Emily did.

And how much blame should Emily assume for Lucy's death? Half? More than half?

None, Caroline thought with certainty. Not one bit. I own it all.

In that moment she knew, with equal certainty, that if she ever told Emily the truth about Lucy's death, Emily might try to assume some of the blame. Perhaps all of it. She could never allow that to happen. She would tell Polly, because that still felt right. But she would protect Emily from the truth, even if a small, angry part of her wanted Emily to know everything.

“Caroline?” Emily said, her voice soft again.

“Yeah?”

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what I did that day and for all the days after that day. I wish I could make it up to you. Give you all those years back.”

Caroline smiled. She didn't know it until just now, but she had been waiting for Emily to apologize. Not only for the past two days but for the past twenty-five years. And in this tree house, on this day, in this moment, it finally happened. She stood and reached her arms out to embrace her friend, and as she did, her head slammed into a crossbeam in the ceiling, sending her sprawling back down to the floor. “Ouch!” she shouted, grabbing the top of her head, which was already throbbing in pain. And then she burst into laughter. Bubbling, teary-eyed, uncontrollable laughter. A second later Emily was laughing, too. Then Emily crawled across the tree house to Caroline and wrapped her arms around her friend. The two of them lay on the floor of their childhood hangout, laughing and crying.

twenty-five

“What's going on up there? Is everyone okay?”

Caroline recognized the voice..

“She's bleeding,” the woman standing beside Officer Dugan said. She was a short, middle-aged woman wearing a pink robe and slippers. And she was shaking an empty coffee cup up at the tree house. The woman's blond hair was in what Caroline thought were rollers, though she had never actually seen rollers in real life. She looked like something out of a 1950s sitcom. “Who's bleeding?” Caroline asked.

“You're bleeding,” the woman shouted. “You're bleeding all over my tree house.” Then she turned to Officer Dugan. “That woman is bleeding all over my tree house.”

Caroline didn't like the way the woman had said
my tree house
.

“It's true,” Emily said, looking up. “Your forehead is bleeding like hell.”

“What in the name of God were you two doing up there?” the woman asked.

Caroline touched her forehead. It was wet and sticky. She looked at her hand. Her fingertips were spotted with blood. “I must have cut it when I hit my head on that beam.”

“Can you climb down?” Officer Dugan asked.

“Of course.”

“Do you feel light-headed?” he asked.

“No. I'm fine. I'm coming down.”

“Wait,” he said, holding his hand out like a traffic cop. “Maybe I should get the fire department out here. Just to be safe.”

“Don't you dare,” Caroline said, moving to the ladder and beginning her descent.

“I'm not going to let you drive a fire engine over my lawn,” the woman snapped at Dugan.

“Relax, Barbara,” Officer Dugan said.

“Don't tell me to relax.”

“We were just looking for my friend's daughter,” Emily said. “We thought she might've been hiding in the tree house. My friend used to live here when she was a kid.”

“That doesn't just give you permission to traipse around my backyard.”

“We knocked on your door,” Caroline said, finally joining Emily, Dugan, and Barbara. “You didn't answer.”

“I was sleeping. I'm home sick today. But just because I didn't answer the door doesn't mean you can trespass on my property.”

“Barbara has a problem with kids using her tree house,” Dugan explained. “It happens a lot.”

“Smoking. Drinking. God knows what happens up there.”

“You're really bleeding,” Emily said, leaning in close to examine Caroline's scalp. She turned to Barbara. “Do you have a first-aid kit?”