Don't Scream - Part 38
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Part 38

CHAPTER 14.

Wake up, run to bathroom, vomit, rinse.

The vicious daily cycle has begun, and Brynn doesnt expect it to let up until after Christmas, if at all. With her first pregnancy, the nausea plagued her for the duration. With the second, it eased after the first trimester, which, according to a couple of well-meaning friends from Calebs playgroup, was supposed to indicate that she was carrying a different gender. Of course, she wasnt.

This time, shes not even going to second-guess. Sh.e.l.l be thrilled with a third son or with a daughter.

What about Garth? she asks herself, as she makes her way out of the bathroom and toward the kitchen in the house where she grew up.

Garth wont be thrilled either way.

Well, at least hes not under the same roof this morning. The past few days, its been a challenge to m.u.f.fle her morning sickness.

But Garth was still clueless when he went off to Arizona yesterday, distracted as usual by his fear of flying.

Im just glad you arent going to be here alone while Im gone, he said, giving Brynn a last tight hug before he dashed out the door.

So is she, although there are places shed rather be than in her childhood home or at the looming memorial service for an old friend.

This weekend is something to be endured, she thinks, as she steps into the kitchen and sees her stepmother. Sue is lean and outdoorsy with a perpetually ruddy complexion, her blonde hair always kept short, in an attractive cut.

In contrast, Brynns mother was soft and curvy, with porcelain skin and black hair she wore in waves that fell to her shoulders.

And I miss her so much I feel sick,Brynn thinks now, even after all these years. She should be standing there first thing in the morning, with the sun streaming in the windows, the way she used to.

Sue is drinking from a sports bottle of water and wearing a sweat-dampened T-shirt. On the counter beside her, the coffeemaker is hissing into action.

Good morning, Brynn. Sue is still breathless, probably from a morning run. Did you sleep okay? It was a little chilly and I forgot to tell you there was an extra blanket on the top shelf of the hall closet.

I know theres an extra blanket on the top shelf of the closet. Theres been an extra blanket on the top shelf of the hall closet much longer than youve lived here.

Brynn says only, I was fine, thanks.

Are the boys still asleep?

They must be. Caleb and Jeremy are in bunks in the upstairs dormered room that once belonged to Brynns brothers. The house is a cla.s.sic Cape: two bedrooms up and two down. The three boys were upstairs and Brynns room was on the first floor, next door to the master bedroom.

When Sue moved in with her father, Brynn moved upstairs to get away from her, camping with her brothers until she went to college. Her girlhood quarters are still intact down here, right down to the high school photos tacked to the bulletin board. Its the one room in the house Sue hasnt dared to change.

Brynn crosses the recently installed tile floorMom always longed to exchange the worn linoleum for tileand glances out the window where a pair of frilly white Priscillas once hung. Now there are only vertical blinds.

Marie Costello hated blinds, vertical, horizontal all blinds, Brynn remembers as she sees the suns promising glint on an array of golden branches, and notes that its going to be a beautiful day.

A beautiful day for a funeral.

She turns away, toward the stove, and realizes theres no tea kettle on the back burner.

Can I help you find something? Sue asks, behind her.

I was going to make some tea.Since I cant drink coffee again until next summer, she thinks grumpily.

Oh, youre going to love this. Look. Sue turns a lever at the sink, and steaming water comes out of a side tap. I just had this put in. See? Boiling water on demand.

Brynn murmurs an appropriate comment, opens the cupboard, and begins hunting through a row of boxes for something herbal: chamomile, or apple Weve got all kinds of tea in there.

Any decaf?

Decaf? I dont think so Sue comes to look over her shoulder. But, oh, try this one. Its really good. Your father doesnt like tea, but even he No, thanks. Brynn turns away from the box her stepmother proffers.

I know my father doesnt like tea. You dont have to tell me that. Hes never liked tea.

She feels a gentle touch on her arm. Honey, Im so sorry about your friend. What a terrible, tragic thing to go through.

To her horror, Brynn is overwhelmed by a sudden impulse to cry. Because of Tildy, because of her pregnancy hormones, because of Sues kindness, because shes the wrong person standing here offering comfort and sympathy.

It should be my mother, not you.

Do you want me to go to the memorial service with you today? Sue offers, her hand now weighty on Brynns shoulder. I hate the thought of you driving there alone and going through that ordeal by yourself.

I wont be by myself. My friends will be there, Fiona and Ca.s.sie.

She hasnt seen either of them in over a week, nor have they spoken other than to make brief arrangements to meet in Brookline today. Brynn has thought more than once of calling each of them, not just to discuss Tildy and Rachel but to unburden her pregnancy news. But she couldnt bring herself to do it.

Well, youll be in good hands if youre with your sorority sisters, then, Sue says, lifting her hand from Brynns shoulder at last.

Brynn is surprisedand, all right, touchedthat Sue remembers their names and that detail about Brynns relationship with them.

I was never in a sorority but I always considered my friends to be my true sisters. I was closer to them than I ever was to my blood sisters, Sue adds, and Brynns temporary spark of warmth toward her evaporates.

Right. Sue was close enough to one friend in particular that she moved right into her life the moment she was gone.

Brynn tries to imagine one of her own sisters doing that, should anything ever happen to her.

Nah. Workaholic Fiona would never want to deal with the kids. Ca.s.sie is embarking on her own domestic adventure with Alec. Tildy Oh, G.o.d. Tildy is gone.

The ugly truth hits her all over again, and with it, the fear that her own life might still be in danger.

Shes been trying to convince herself that the chances of that are remote. But she cant ignore the dead cardinal, the card Or that Tildy died on her own birthday.

If the Boston police knew what Brynn and the others know, they wouldnt be looking among Tildys coworkers for the killer.

Theyd be looking for a woman who supposedly died ten years ago.

Dressed in a black suit, Isaac stands over the bed, watching Kylah sleep.

This lying and sneaking around cant go on any longer. Hes going to tell her the truth. Tonight.

After he gets back from Matilda Harringtons memorial service this morning in Boston.

He wasnt planning to go, at first. Especially when Puffy told him its being held today, of all days. Kylahs cousin Amy is getting married this afternoon; shes in the wedding party, of course.

But h.e.l.l make it back to New York in time for the reception later. He booked a round-trip flight on the shuttle. After boarding the plane this morning, h.e.l.l be in Boston in less time than it takes him to make it across the Triborough Bridge during rush hour.

Im glad youre coming, Puffy told him. Tildy was a good friend of Rachels.

No, she wasnt. Not really.

Rachel never clicked with Matilda Harrington the way she did with her other sorority sisters. Isaac remembers Rachel mimicking her sn.o.bby airs but only for him, of course. To Matildas faceand in the presence of the other sistersshe was always her warm, upbeat self.

Thats the best thing about Rachel. Having weathered her parents bitter divorce and subsequent multiple remarriages, she learned not to make waves. She treated everyone in her life as though she was crazy about them, regardless of how she really felt inside.

Thats also the worst thing about Rachel.

You could never really be sure where you stood.

Its different with someone like, say, Kylah. She wears her heart on her sleeve.

I should appreciate that about her,Isaac tells himself,instead of always comparing her to Rachel. It isnt fair to her.

With a twinge of guilt, he turns away from his sleeping girlfriend and makes his way through the early-morning shadows to the door.

h.e.l.l tell her tonight about Rachel.

And maybe, he thinks hopefully as he strides toward the elevator, Matilda Harringtons memorial service will be cathartic.

Maybe it will even enable him to let go at last, after ten years.

Ten years of keeping his own weighty secret And Rachels.

Ashley Hagan likes to sleep in on weekend mornings, but her mother never lets her. When she wakes up in her own bed at home on a Sat.u.r.day or Sunday morning, its to a bleating alarm clock, same as on weekdays.

Mom doesnt believe in lazy self-indulgence.

Daddy does.

And, luckily for Ashley, she wakes, lazily, to find herself in the brand-new, almost-bedroom he built into a corner of his apartment.

I had to make it so that the wall can come down when I move out, he explained last weekend, when he first revealed her new quarters.

When are you moving out? Ashley asked, momentarily alarmed.

Probably never, so dont worry, Daddy said. At the rate Im going, Ill never be able to afford a condo.

Its okay, I like this place, Ashley lied.

Well, she does like it better since he put up the new wall and bought her all new bedding and a new dresser where she can keep her things. She used to just have a drawer in hiswhich was fine, because Daddy doesnt have tons of clothes, like Mom does.

Ashley can hear him rattling pots and pans beyond the new part.i.tion, and something smells good: b.u.t.ter and batter.

Pancakes!

She stretches and gets up, walking barefoot into the little kitchenette.

Sleeping Beauty! There you are. Daddy is standing at the griddle on the stove, a spatula in one hand and a can of Red Bull in the other. He drinks one every morning, to wake up.

He has a stubbly face, his dark hair is standing straight up the way it does before his shower in the morning, and hes wearing his weekend-morning uniform: T-shirt and boxer shorts.

On the counter, beside the box of Hungry Jack mix, she sees a telltale empty plastic produce container. Peering into the mixing bowl, she sees that the creamy batter is studded with sliced red berries.

Strawberry pancakes? she asks excitedly.

Your favorite. What do you feel like doing today?

I dont know What do you want to do? Thats the great thing about Daddy. He doesnt schedule things way in advance, like Mom does. He likes to play it by ear.

How about if we go to the movies?

Okay.

Want to ask Meg and her mom to come along?

Yes!

Good. Thats what well do, then.

Ashley smiles as she watches him heap her plate with golden-brown silver-dollar-sized pancakes, then dab them with b.u.t.ter and smother them in maple syrup.

Mom makes her eat boxed cereal for breakfast at home.

Unsweetened cereal, like horribly dry shredded wheat or those disgusting fiber pellets that look like cat food. She refuses to buy the good stuff like Capn Crunch and Lucky Charms, especially since Ashley needed a filling at her last dental checkup.

There you go. Daddy hands the plate back to Ashley. Dig in.

What about you?

Im making mine now. Eat those while theyre hot.

Ashley perches on a stool at the breakfast bar that separates the kitchen from the living area. She has to clear a s.p.a.ce for her plate; the counter is covered with mail and stacks of legal doc.u.ments from Daddys job.

Ashley isnt sure exactly what he does Hes some kind of lawyer, she thinks.

But lawyers are rich, her friend Meg said when Ashley mentioned that once. How come your dad isnt rich like my dad?

Ashley has no idea, but shes glad her dad is nothing like Megs dad, who is divorced from Megs mom. Hes snooty and he lives in a fancy house in Stockbridge with his snooty new wife and their two bratty little kids. He just had a heart attack not too long ago, from working too hard. Megs stepmother said Meg cant spend the night there anymore because theyre trying to reduce stress. Like Meg would cause extra stress compared to his bratty other kids who are there all the time.

Meg hates her stepmother, who wears clothes only from Ralph Lauren and Calvin Klein, and other expensive designers Ashley has never even heard of.