The room was stuffy from the day’s heat and fragrant with the scent of sex. She cracked the window, and when Roland didn’t wake from the sound, she pushed it all the way up.
Not tired enough to sleep, Allison sat in the window bench. She thought about reading but there wasn’t quite enough moonlight to read by and she hated reading on her phone, but that was fine by her. She watched the water instead, watched it shimmering in the glowing deck lights. She wondered at the strangeness of the day, how it had begun with death and ended with sex. But was it that strange? Her best night with McQueen, the one night she cherished most in her memories, had come when she’d returned home after attending her aunt’s funeral. McQueen had surprised her with his kindnesses during that difficult time, hiring a car to take her there and bring her back, sending a spray of roses, orchids and lilies to cover her aunt’s casket. He’d even been waiting at her apartment when she arrived. He’d wanted sex from her, of course, but that night she’d wanted it from him even more. She’d spent three days in the company of death. And sex was almost the opposite of a funeral. A funeral said “life ends.” Sex said “life goes on.” No wonder she and Roland had fallen on each other like wild animals tonight. After learning one of their own had taken his life, they’d needed the reminder they were still alive.
Allison was almost asleep in the window seat when she thought she saw something moving on the beach. People? An animal? She took the old binoculars off the hook and trained them on the patch of beach just beyond the deck. She didn’t see anything at first, but then the binoculars picked up a red flame. A bonfire on the beach. Someone was having a cookout. This late at night? Well, why not? It was a nice night, warm and dry. She saw the burning logs. She saw the dancing sparks. She saw a square beach blanket next to the fire and one person lying on it.
Her eyes adjusted to the dim light. No, it wasn’t one person on the blanket but two. Two people, one on top of the other. Allison knew she shouldn’t be looking but there was something about the couple that made it impossible for her to look away.
The woman on top had hair the same color as the fire.
The man underneath her had black tattoos on his naked arms and chest.
Allison slowly lowered the binoculars and turned her head from the scene as if she could still see it.
Now she knew one more secret hiding in this house.
Chapter 21
Allison pulled on her jeans and Roland’s flannel shirt and went down to the sunroom. She turned on a lamp, pretended to read a book and waited. Five minutes later she heard the deck creaking, the sound of people climbing up the staircase from the beach. Outside the French deck doors, Deacon and Thora paused, wiped their feet and brushed sand from each other’s clothes. They came inside and saw her, smiling like nothing in the world was different.
“You’re home early,” Thora said. “Did you bring my burgers?”
“In the kitchen,” Allison said.
“Didn’t Dad tell you all not to come back until morning?” Thora asked.
“He did, but we didn’t feel like staying out all night.”
“Don’t tell Dad you disobeyed an order,” Deacon said. “He’s in a horrible mood.”
“What’s wrong?” Allison asked.
“Kicked me out of his room when I tried to make him take his meds,” Thora said. Allison could tell she’d been crying, too.
“He used to never lose his temper with us.”
“It’s not really his fault,” Thora said. “The poisons in the bloodstream mess with the brain. He’s been a lot testier. Then again, it could just be the fear talking.”
“Was he really bad?” Allison said.
“He wasn’t any fun, that’s for sure,” Thora said. “I had to go for a walk on the beach to calm down.”
“Feel better now?” Allison asked.
“Much,” Thora said.
Allison nodded. “Good.”
“I’ll go check on Dad,” Deacon said. “You going to bed?”
“In a few minutes,” Thora said. “Good night.”
“Good night,” Deacon said.
He was almost all the way out of the room when Allison said it.
“Guys, I know, by the way.”
Deacon froze, then slowly turned around. Thora’s eyes widened slightly.
“Know what?” Thora said.
“I was sitting in the window in my room,” Allison said. “I thought I saw something on the beach. I got out the binoculars. I promise, I thought it was just, I don’t know, an animal or something at first. I didn’t mean to snoop.”
Thora said nothing. Deacon said nothing.
“It’s okay,” Allison said. “It’s really okay. I just didn’t want to not tell you all I knew. Seems like there’s enough secrets in this house without me keeping any extras lying around.”
“If I’d known you were watching,” Deacon said, “I would have put on a better show.”
“I didn’t watch,” Allison said. “I saw. And then I immediately stopped looking.”
She was speaking very calmly but her heart was pounding in her chest and her stomach was tight.
“Does Dad know?” Allison asked.
“No,” Thora said. “At least, we’ve never told him.”
Deacon sat on the white overstuffed chair opposite her on the couch. Thora sat on the arm of the chair.
“You remember his rules,” Deacon said. “We were scared he’d separate us if he knew.”
“So you have been together a long time?” Allison asked.
“Since we were fourteen,” Thora said. By lamplight, Allison could see the soft blush on Thora’s face. “Are you angry?”
“Why would I be? I mean, it’s kind of surprising,” Allison said. “We used to call you the Twins.”
“Because we’re the same age,” Deacon said. “Not like we look much alike.”
“I keep thinking I should have known. How did I not know?”
“We always tried to be careful,” Thora said.
“And come on, I was fourteen,” Deacon said. “Not like it lasted much longer than two minutes, anyway.”
“You got much better with age,” Thora said.
“I couldn’t have gotten much worse.”
“That’s true,” Thora said, then flinched. Deacon had apparently pinched her at that remark.
“Does Roland know?” Allison asked.
“Yeah,” Thora said. “We finally gave in and told Ro when we were eighteen. We asked him not to say anything to anyone. Legally, we are siblings.”
“How did Roland take it?” Allison closed her book, done now with any pretense.
“He handled it better than I thought he would,” Deacon said, now rubbing Thora’s back. “Apparently he and Kendra were a thing for a very short time. So he understood. He didn’t like that we were keeping it a secret from Dad, but he got it.”
“You don’t think Dad would be okay with it now?” Allison asked. “I mean, you all are what? Twenty-eight? And he’s happy about me and Roland.”
“No offense,” Deacon said, “but you aren’t one of us.”
Allison wasn’t offended, but it still stung. No, she wasn’t one of them. She could have been, maybe, but fate had other ideas for her.
“Dad tried really hard to make us into a perfect family. And we tried to be a perfect family for him. We really did. Deacon even lived with family in China for years to get over me.”
“Didn’t work.” Deacon looked up at Thora and winked. “But we did try for Dad’s sake. He’s done so much for us—treated us, took us in, adopted us, gave us everything we ever wanted and needed. He never asked for anything in return. Maybe he’d be okay with me and Thora together, but we’re not going to stress him out now.”
“We don’t want to hurt Dad.”
“I get it,” Allison said.
“Are you sure you aren’t angry?” Thora asked her.
“I’m sure I’m not angry. I know what it’s like to be in a relationship you don’t know how to talk about,” Allison said. “Can I ask if that’s what you two were doing when I fell?”
Deacon and Thora looked at each other. Thora nodded.
“We were in my room,” Thora said. “Doing exactly what you think we were doing. I was upset about something and Deacon was trying to make me feel better.”
“I’m sorry I lied,” Deacon said. “I was protecting Thora. It’s what I do.”
Allison smiled at them. “I feel silly. I should have known,” she said. “At the studio, you were invading Thora’s personal space big time.”