Page 45 of That Last Carolina Summer

“I can’t remember!” she screamed, slamming her palms against the dashboard again and again.

“I can’t remember!” she screamed again, and my eyes stung from the anguish in her voice and my inability to fix what was wrong.

The threat to my family wasn’t a known predator that I could peck at or feign an injury to distract it away from my home.

This was a thief whose destruction was guaranteed and permanent, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

“It’s okay, Mother. It’s okay. I’m here. Everything is all right.” I had no idea what I was saying. It wasn’t okay. Nothing would ever be okay again.

She let go of her breath with a sob, her chin dropping toward her chest while I blew through a yellow light, unwilling to extend the drive for even thirty seconds.

“Where are we going?” My mother’s voice was hoarse from screaming. My own throat felt raw from swallowing all the pent-up emotions I couldn’t yet name, much less express.

“Home,” I managed.

“No, we’re not.” With agitated movements, she turned her head to look out the side and front windows. “Where are you taking me?”

“I’m taking you home. Addie and Ophelia will be there.”

“Liar,” she roared at me, and I let the word settle on my skin.

I wasn’t the liar. The universe was. It had led her to believe that she would grow old gracefully, enjoying reading and gardening and all the things she loved until one night when she’d go to sleep and wouldn’t wake up.

Somewhere in the dark corners of her mind she was allowed to see the life she’d planned, outlined in stark relief against the life she lived now.

And it terrified her. It also terrified me.

I wished I could call back all the terrible things I’d said to her when I was a teenager, when I knew even less about relationships and my mother than I did now.

I wished I could tell her I was sorry. But as my mother was discovering, the universe can be an unforgiving place with rules that didn’t always seem to apply to everyone.

She was silent for the final few blocks until we’d reached our driveway. Liam appeared at her door and lifted her from her seat, carrying her inside so she wouldn’t have to walk barefoot.

Celeste immediately came from the kitchen wiping her hands on a dish towel and took charge as we came through the front door. Addie hung back, as if expecting a scolding. There was a lot more I wanted to do, but I had to remind myself that we were both grown women.

Celeste must have felt the brewing tension since she moved to stand between us like a referee. “Addie, would you please take Elizabeth upstairs and get her changed into some dry clothes? I’ll heat up some of that chicken soup that I made yesterday and have it ready for her when you come back down.”

Addie nodded and took hold of our now-docile mother’s arm and began leading her up the stairs, Mother’s head resting gently on Addie’s shoulder, no longer resembling the woman who’d just been screaming at me in the car.

“Hang on a minute,” Liam said, pulling something out of his pocket. He held up Addie’s necklace. “I found this at the cemetery. I think your mother left it there.”

Addie’s eyes widened in recognition while something unnamable flickered behind them.

“I wondered what happened to it. I was sure I left it on my dresser, but it wasn’t there when I went to put it on.

” She plucked the necklace from Liam’s hand without making eye contact then pocketed it. “I’ll be more careful next time.”

She moved to continue up the stairs, but Mother held back, her gaze focused on the empty spot on Addie’s neck as she pointed at it. “Your father wants you to wear it.” She dropped her hand but continued nodding her head as if to accentuate her point.

“Yes, Mother,” Addie said with studied patience. “I’ll put it on as soon as we get upstairs.”

“Good.” My mother turned to look at Liam and Celeste and gave them a gracious smile. “Welcome to our home. Please make yourselves comfortable.” Then she turned and walked upstairs wearing a rain-soaked housecoat as if it were couture and she a queen.

“You left the key fob on the counter, Addie,” I called to her departing back. “And Mother found it. She could have been killed or she could have killed someone else. You need to be more responsible.”

She continued up the stairs without a word.

“The storm’s moving out,” Celeste said. “I hate to ask since you just got here, but the kids are asking for pizza from Coastal Crust, and they don’t deliver. My treat.” She smiled hopefully at Liam.

“I’ll go,” I said, already heading for the door. “I’m afraid I might kill my sister if I’m stuck in the same house with her right now—and I am not a violent person. She just brings out the worst in me.”

“I’ll drive,” Liam said, following me out the door. “Please tell Will to phone in the order,” he called over his shoulder to Celeste.

I stopped on the porch and crossed my arms. “I didn’t ask for company.”

“You didn’t have to. I just thought I would stick close to you in case I’m forced to slap a blood pressure cuff on your arm.”

“You’re not my doctor.”

“I know. That doesn’t make me exempt from caring about you.”

My eyes drifted to his lips, the memory of how they tasted still on my tongue. I stepped off the porch, walking in puddles because I was too distracted to avoid them. I slid into the passenger side of his truck just as an orange shard of early evening sunshine scuttled the storm clouds.

Liam started the car and turned on the AC but didn’t take the truck out of Park.

“Is there a problem?” I kept my gaze focused on the windshield, watching the sun create prisms of light through raindrops on the glass.

“Are you still angry about me breaking your ribs?”

I jerked around. “What?” His smile told me he was joking, and I sank back down in my seat, fighting a reluctant smile. “That’s not funny.”

“Sure, it is. Not about me breaking your ribs but that you might be still holding a grudge.”

I laughed despite myself, risking a glance at him.

He was smiling, but when he spoke, his tone was serious.

“Do you want to tell me what all that was about with your sister’s necklace?

Your mother was upset enough to take it to the cemetery with her.

If you’d like, I can refer her to a psychologist who specializes in patients with memory loss.

She might have unresolved issues she’s trying to untangle.

Sometimes they can be small things to the rest of us, but to someone like your mother, who’s aware of her slipping memory, it becomes a sticking point. ”

“Could it lead her to believe that there needs to be a reckoning? That’s what she said at the cemetery.”

“Sure. Like I said, it could be a small thing, but it’s something she remembers at least a part of.

She might feel as if she needs to resolve it before she forgets it completely.

She’s at the difficult stage where her memory fluctuates between clarity and sometimes something as extreme as hallucinations.

The medications I prescribed should help.

It might take a while to get them adjusted, but that’s my job.

And Gran is the right person to help smooth the transitions and to make your mother’s lucid periods longer and more meaningful for both you and your sister. ”

“Except I’m running out of time. I’m leaving in August, and I’d feel better knowing that Mother is content and not so agitated and upset all the time.

I guess content is the right word, isn’t it?

Because it’s not a matter of her getting better.

” My voice caught, but I fought the tears.

I wasn’t going to cry. Not here, not now.

Tears hadn’t saved Bailey or cured Aunt Sassy or made my mother understand that I wasn’t ever going to be like her and Addie no matter how hard she tried to change me.

He shifted in his seat to look at me. “That might not be enough time, Phoebe. You might need to consider staying a while longer. I don’t know if your mother or Addie will be ready by August.”

“I can’t.” I felt the heavy presence of the dream. “I can’t stay longer.”

“Because of your job? Can you not take a leave of absence?”

“It’s not that. It’s... something else.

” I pressed my head against the leather headrest, feeling the icy cold blast from the AC, even colder because my hair and clothes were still soaking wet.

“I was really hoping that with Dale reappearing in our lives and Addie seeming happy to see him, that was a sign she was growing up. And then she pulled that stunt today, skipping Mother’s appointment and then disappearing with some dirtbag and leaving Ophelia alone with Mother and the car keys.

It’s like she thinks she’s still sixteen and responsible for nothing and no one except for herself—and even there I have my doubts. ”

“I don’t think she’s doing it on purpose, Phoebe.

If she believes she’s not worthy of something, or if she believes she’s being punished for something she did or didn’t do, she could be self-sabotaging.

Intentionally or not. She might not have any control over her actions if there’s something she can’t face. ”

His use of the word punished reminded me of my conversation with Addie on the dock, where she told me that she felt she was being punished. But I was still too angry at what could have happened to feel much sympathy.

“Why are you taking Addie’s side?”

“I’m not taking sides, although for the record, I’m always Team Phoebe.”

“It’s a very small team,” I said. Uncomfortable with his scrutiny, I said, “Can we go get pizza now? I’m starving.”

He put the truck in Reverse and backed out of the driveway. “So is Mary-Simms pregnant or not?”

“She is. I suppose we all have a lucky guess every once in a while.”

He was silent for a couple of blocks as we drove. “Okay. Let’s say it’s a lucky guess. But can I ask you something?”