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pecking at my food, keeping my eyes down. I didn't know whom I was more angry at: Mommy, Uncle Jacob, my grandparents. Maybe I was equally angry at all of them. I was even angry at myself for agreeing to remain here. How could I have believed Mommy's promises? One lie spun another when it came to the Logans, and Mommy had caught their lying disease.

Aunt Sara tried to cheer me up by talking about the Blessing of the Fleet, a June festival that took place yearly in Prov

incetown. She said there would be lots of boats, people in costumes, great food and games. Whenever she asked Uncle Jacob about something, he would simply grunt a yes or a no, his eyes mostly on me. I sensed that I had scratched a scab on his memory when I had screamed my questions at him in the hallway. He didn't look irritated as much as stunned.

Aunt Sara made a final attempt to inject some joviality into our dinner by mentioning Cary's English test result. Uncle Jacob expressed surprise and approval, but when Cary explained that it was all because of my tutoring, Uncle Jacob grew dark again.

"Laura used to help Cary like that, too. Remember, Jacob?" Aunt Sara said smiling. "I remember," he said. "I have something to do

at the dock." He pushed himself away from the table

and stood. "Don't make me any coffee."

"I'll have some hot water steaming for tea for

you when you return, Jacob," Aunt Sara promised. He

glanced at me once more, then left the room. "If you have homework, you don't have to help

me with the dishes tonight, Melody," Aunt Sara said.

She was trying her best to make things right again. I

felt sorry for her, but even sorrier for myself. Cary's eyes were fixed on me. They were

strangely haunted. Was he still angry at me or did he

feel sorry for me? From the day I arrived, I had felt

Cary carried deep secrets in his heart, secrets that

resembled chunks of lead weighing him down,

making him grow older faster. It was why he seemed

so bitter all the time and why the girls at school saw

him as Grandpa.

"I do have something to do tonight, Aunt Sara,"

I said. "I'm going to study for a test with a friend." Cary looked down, his head lowering as if in

prayer. "Oh? Well . . yes, Laura did that once in a

while.

Who was it she studied with, Cary? Sandra

Turnick?"

"Yeah," he said quickly, but he didn't look up. "She has a sister in your class, doesn't she,

Melody? Is that who you're studying with tonight?" "No," I said. Cary lifted his eyes and gazed at

me. "It's someone else. Janet Parker," I said. Cary

looked disappointed and once again dropped his gaze to his plate. "But first, I promised May I would do