Chapter 18
Amy stood in her kitchen clutching the cordless phone against her chest and feeling sick. There was a clatter in the den and then the bang of the toy chest shutting. Sam was putting away his toys so they could go to the park. First lunchtime, then playtime, then clean up, then the park for a little bit, then naptime. After napping, they would run errands together, while he was still sleepy and complacent.
“All done, Mommy! I all done!” her youngest son called to her. He was waiting for her to come and check his work like she always did. But suddenly, Amy stomach was turning over, the acid from the tomato soup they’d had for lunch bubbling up.
She tried to remember what Zo had said about the book. Why hadn’t she read it, too, so she’d have something to grab hold of? Of course, she knew why. She didn’t read it for the same reason she didn’t read any novels, they didn’t hold her interest the way that nonfiction books did. She just couldn’t get over the fact that the whole thing was made up.
Except, maybe this book wasn’t made up.
“Mommy? I’m all done!”
Amy put the phone down on the counter and went in to the den. Sam stood next to the toy chest, pointing at it. “All done!” he repeated.
Amy glanced around the room to see if he’d forgotten anything. “Okay, good! Let’s get your jacket on and we’ll go to the park. Do you have to go to the bathroom?”
Sam shook his head, bright eyed. He couldn’t wait to go play on his favorite slide, the tall red one that he’d just graduated to from the little blue one next to it. He could play on that slide, sliding down and climbing back up the ladder, over and over for hours.
“Well, we’re going to try before we go. Come on,” Amy said. She knew that in his excitement he would ignore any urge until it was too late and they were at the park. The park, though wonderfully handy being located only two blocks away, had no bathroom facilities.
Sam protested as usual, but Amy insisted. Then, once he used the toilet and they had his jacket on, they walked to the park, Sam running ahead on the sidewalk and then waiting for his mother to catch up when she yelled to him. It was a warm early autumn day, and halfway there Amy ended up having to carry Sam’s jacket when he grew too hot. It already looked like fall, though, due to the cold snaps they had over the past few weeks, leaves changing on some of the trees in bursts of yellow and red.
Once at the park with Sam happily playing on the slide, Amy sat down on a nearby bench, her stomach still clenching. She let herself think about Hannah and Keeley again.
Ever since that review of Hannah’s book and the awful accusations it had made about Keeley, Amy’s argument was that the book was a novel. It was made up! She reassured Keeley and herself with that fact, pointing out that the reviewer didn’t even know them. Obviously, the book was so well written that the woman had assumed it was a true story. It was a slanderous idiotic thing that the woman had written, and she should be sued for libel. Keeley declined starting a lawsuit, saying that she just wanted to forget the whole thing, which was just like Keeley. After the hubbub died down and they sent Hannah the keys to the house with the hope that it would give her a chance to think and realize what an idiot she was being about Daniel, Amy had filed the whole novel and the review away in her mind and forgotten about it. It was a relief. She felt guilty about not reading their Baby Barefoot’s novel, and the less she thought about it the better.
Now, in one swift stroke, Hannah had not only brought back the guilt, she had said something patently untrue. This lie, and a horrible one about Amy’s dearest friend, was being told by the girl she had helped raise, had helped mold into a good person. How was this even possible? What was happening to Hannah?
Amy thought about Keeley, the best, brightest, truest person Amy had ever known. Keeley probably had her faults as a mother; she was so young when she became one it would’ve been impossible to be perfect. But even though the Barefooters came together to help her raise Hannah, Keeley had been the one to carry the heaviest load, who gave up college and all the fun the other girls got to experience, who lived paycheck to paycheck, who had to make sure one of the Barefooters could babysit when she wanted to go on date or even have a break.
And yet, Keeley did it all with style. She rented a sweet little house in Fairfield so her daughter would have a yard to play in and a good school to attend. The rent was high and she was only able to pay for it by not buying anything else as well as accepting gifts and donations of food, clothing, and other necessities. She refused to take cash, though. Even with Zo, who tried to insist on paying the rent and other large-ticket items, Keeley still wouldn’t budge, saying it was her responsibility. And she hated accepting even the hand-me-downs and donated boxes of groceries, feeling that old pride and fighting it for her daughter’s sake. The root of their financial problems was that Keeley could never keep a job for long because she always put Hannah first, leaving work on a dime if Hannah needed her. One too many flake-outs and Keeley was on the receiving end of another pink slip. Plus, every year she made sure Hannah had a real Captain’s summer, and that meant a whole season on the island with no income. No company ever rehired her in September. Back then, the two of them lived in the tiny Barefooter House from mid-June through August and Hannah slept in a sleeping bag on the couch while Keeley slept in a hammock strung across the corner in the living room.
How could that happy little curly-headed girl grow up to tell such awful lies about her mother? And why? What was going on between Keeley and Hannah? Amy still couldn’t believe that Hannah hadn’t shown up for Dog Days that year. She kept waiting all day for her to show up and when it got dark, called her and left message after message. They had all left messages. None were returned. Later, when Hannah visited the island with Daniel, Amy forgave and forgot. And then the review came out. This year had been like a roller coaster: up, down, up, down.
In a way, it reminded her of how Keeley had been when they first met, that first summer when they were seven. The mood swings were ridiculous back then. Well, they seemed ridiculous until they all found out what was really going on and why Keeley was happy and funny one day, and sad and grumpy the next. It had been an incredible shock, shaking Amy’s world to the core.