“We wouldn’t have made it more than a few months otherwise, would we?” It probably should have been her clearest revelation when she first found out about Maribel, but for some reason, it was just hitting Violet now.
“I don’t regret Bear,” Finn said. “He’s the only good to come of any of this.” The pure pain on his face just then laid bare the heart of it all: This was why he’d failed to walk away from their son, even when he could no longer bring himself to stay, even when there was nowhere else to go.
“Why did you even look for me at all?” Violet had to know. “The second time, I mean. After she died.” When he didn’t answer, her anger flashed again. “Why couldn’t you just let me be?”
She could see that the words stung him, and that he was surprised that they did. She didn’t wish them back, but she didn’t take any satisfaction in them either. She was just so tired.
She looked past Finn and could see the faintest hint of a glow on the horizon where the sun would soon appear. “It wasn’t meant to be,” she said, more to herself than to him. “How funny that everybody believed so strongly that it was. I mean, people used to beg me to tell the story to the point where I got sick of telling it. I guess I should have enjoyed it while it lasted.”
“I’m sorry,” Finn said again.
Violet steadied herself with a deep breath. “We’re going to have to call now,” she said. “The ambulance, the feds. No way around it.”
As if on cue, the faint song of a siren sounded in the distance, just as it had on the day she’d met Finn and lost him. She was about to lose him again. Caitlin must have already called. Violet’s eyes met Finn’s. Some connections couldn’t be undone just because someone said so.
“Don’t tell them to go easy on me,” Finn said.
“I’ll tell them the truth,” she said. “That you need help. You should have talked to someone about all this a long time ago—and I don’t mean me. I mean someone who knows what they’re talking about, someone who can help you.”
“Ah. The insanity defense. Why didn’t I think of that?” He looked so pale, so clammy, and in spite of everything, Violet was afraid for him.
“What happened with Maribel was an accident, Finn. It’s like Gram used to tell me, when I spilled something or broke something—they’re called accidents for a reason. You don’t have to live your life as if you’re a murderer.”
He nodded, though whether or not her words had had any effect, she couldn’t tell.
“Of course, there is the small detail that now you’re a kidnapper.”
Finn forced a laugh. Violet hugged her knees to her chest. Together, they watched Bear sleep until the ambulance arrived.
38
AUGUST 2017
Bear pushed the bright orange Tonka bulldozer in figure eights around the thick pillars of the pier. Violet had been assigned backhoe duty. Her job was to fill the dump truck with sand, at which point Bear would stop what he was doing, gleefully dump the truck’s load onto the sizable pile they’d accumulated, and instruct her to do it again. The brittle plastic of the backhoe’s scoop was not exactly smooth in its response to the toy’s levers and gears, and so now and then sand would fling into the air and rain down on Violet’s warm skin, already sticky from sunscreen and bug spray. But she didn’t care. It felt so good to be away from things, just her and Bear, hours and hours from home. The tide was going out, and the foam rolling gently beneath the tunnel of the pier was a hypnotic piece of vanishing-point-perspective art.
After Finn had been taken into custody, Gram had announced almost immediately that she didn’t know what she’d been thinking, retiring in the altitude, and would prefer a warmer climate. Violet knew Gram was putting the rest of the family’s needs above what she really wanted, and yet she didn’t argue. Finn would always be a part of Bear’s life, though in what capacity they didn’t yet know, and Asheville was too connected to his most painful memories. Violet wasn’t exactly feeling nostalgic about her time there either. And so she helped to find another independent-living facility, one farther south but surrounded by eclectic artists and historic homes not unlike those Gram had so loved in the mountains.
They settled in Beaufort, South Carolina, right on the coast, where Gram’s new seniors’ community was steeped in Low Country charm and afforded breathtaking views of the sunset over the marsh. Violet found a rental nearby, a two-bedroom in a newer complex where the living room and kitchen were adjoined, and Bear’s tiny room shared both a wall and a bathroom with her own. The close quarters suited her just fine, and the sleek, freshly tiled kitchen with its built-in breakfast bar was a welcome change from the old awkward space she’d so loathed in the Asheville rental. Although Violet knew Gram’s heart hadn’t been in coming, she seemed to genuinely like her new home too, making fast friends with the exceedingly polite Southern belle retirees and flirting shamelessly with the men—she couldn’t resist their thick Carolina accents. Not to mention the cobblers, the pies, the fresh crops of peaches and pecans—Gram’s culinary skills fit right in here, and any lingering guilt Violet felt quickly eased.
“This is what’s best for the whole family,” Gram said firmly the one time Violet dared to ask if she was really okay with the move. “And that means it’s best for me.”
Finn wasn’t the only one who’d pictured Violet every time he thought of the beach. She’d always seen herself there too. Looking out at the ocean made her feel connected to something bigger, in rhythm with something constant. She needed that in her life right now. And she liked the idea of raising Bear with that kind of perspective.
“A few more minutes, Cub, and then I thought we could drive into the old town and watch the boats come in. Maybe this time we could have a picnic by the Castillo.”
St. Augustine’s massive open harbor was nothing like the glassy waterways of Beaufort, and it mesmerized Violet just as much as it did Bear. They’d ended every day of their vacation there so far this week. Gram had called Violet a ship, and maybe she’d been right. Violet couldn’t help but feel a kinship with them as they glided in from the uncertain open sea.
Bear’s eyes lit up. “Will there be fishing boats again?”
Violet nodded. “But I like watching the sailboats best.”
“I like watching the cargo ships!”
“I like watching the pirates come in!”
Bear giggled. “There are no pirates, Mommy!”
“Well, there might be today. You never know.”