Page 16 of The Summer Club

“So you knew him too?” Andi asked.

Charley nodded. “He was my college roommate.”

“Jesus.” Hugh began pacing again. “This is like some awful soap opera.” Then, coming to stand beside Andi’s chair, he said, “Maybe he’s changed his mind. Maybe he’s been waiting for us to reach out to him, all these years. Did you ever think of that, Mom?”

Cora’s lip trembled. “I have thought of a lot of things over the years, Hugh. I promise you that.”

“What if we want to meet him?”

Andi shook her head. Hugh was asking things she wasn’t ready for yet.

But Cora met his gaze. “Then I’ll help you find him.”

“Okay,” Andi said. “Okay, I think I need a break now.” Their parents’ honesty was painful to witness. Even though she was confused and, like Hugh, hurting deeply, Andi didn’t feel the same level of anger as her twin did. She reached up to touch his hand, but he yanked it away.

“You know what?” Hugh was throwing mud and he wasn’t done yet. “All of this is nuts, completely and totally fucking nuts. But what I can’t get past is the lying. To all three of us.” He turned to Sydney. “Aren’t you upset by this at all? Don’t you have anything to say? You’re not even our sister, it seems.”

“Hey!” Andi warned him. Hugh was out of control.

Sydney’s face flushed with raw emotion. “That’s not fair. We’re still sister and brother.”

“Half,” Hugh muttered. “If that’s even true.”

“Enough!” Andi slapped the table and, outside of the surf on the beach below, the patio fell silent.

Cora was watching them all like she would a pack of wounded animals, like she desperately wanted to reach out to touch but was too afraid of being bitten. “Children, please. I will answer any questions you have. Tell you anything you want to know. But please know, I am so sorry you’re finding out like this. I’m just so—” Her voice broke.

“Time for a break,” Charley told them with certainty, though nothing was certain among them anymore. “Your mother and I are going inside. Whatever you need to say or ask, please come to us. We will wait. However long it takes.” His sad gaze traveled from one face to the next as he said it and Andi’s heart broke just a little bit more. This hurt them too.

Charley held the screen door open for Cora and she walked inside, looking smaller and frailer than Andi had ever seen her mother.

Then the screen door creaked shut behind them, leaving the three almost-siblings alone on the patio with Martin.

Sydney stood and tossed the envelope Tish had given her into the center of the table. “Take it,” she told them. “I don’t even want it.”

“Forget the house,” Hugh said. “Do you really think that’s what this is about? This is about our parents.”

A horrible thought occurred to Andi: can we even call them that anymore?

Sydney hiccupped through fresh tears. “I can’t believe this. It’s supposed to be the happiest time of my life, and now this…” She stalked across the patio and to the edge of the yard where the grass grew taller and the soil turned to sand. Andi watched as she headed down the beach path for the dunes. How she wanted to run down there herself.

Only Hugh, Martin, and Andi remained at the table. Andi surveyed the scene: half-eaten plates of blueberry pie abandoned at their place settings; wineglasses still full. The first night of their annual family vacation, blasted to bits.

Finally, Martin spoke. “Listen, you two. What just happened is shocking. And I’m so sorry for all of you. But I think you need to be careful. I think you need to let this sink in a bit before you say or do anything else.”

Hugh regarded his partner sadly. “Our family, as we thought we knew it, was a lie. Our childhood. Our home. This summer house…” His voice trailed off.

For a while they sat in silence, hostage to their own thoughts, listening to the roar of the ocean down on the beach. Andi tried to time her breathing to the rhythm of the waves. To smell the salt air. Anything to make herself feel grounded in the moment.

Riptide had always been their summer haven, their safe place. The place their family came to be together again each year. To reunite, to laugh, to air grievances and fall into old arguments. To play board games by the fireplace and read books on the beach and body surf in the waves. How would it ever feel like that again, after tonight?

She turned her face to the remnants of the sunset. “I used to think that old Thomas Wolfe saying was so stupid, until now.”

“What saying?” Martin asked.

“You know the one: you can’t go home again?”

Martin nodded slowly. “It’s sad. And somewhat true, I suppose.”