Diane Chamberlain - Keeper of the Light

Mary narrowed her eyes at Paul. “Did you think you were the only one?” she asked. “Did you think you were something special Annie couldn’t possibly resist? Well, let me set you straight then. You were just one of many Annie brought to this bed. She had tourists in the summer, fishermen in the fall, construction workers in the spring. It wasn’t just the PTA or the Red Cross Annie couldn’t say no to. It was anyone who wanted a little part of her spirit.”

Paul looked as though he was about to get sick. He turned on his heel, and they listened to the clattering of his shoes on the stairs. Olivia still clung to Alec’s arm, but he’d turned his head away from her as he leaned against the doorjamb, his hand to his eyes.

Olivia looked at Mary. Every year suddenly showed in the old woman’s face. She looked as though she might collapse there on the landing, as though it was only the slim reed of her cane that was keeping her upright. Olivia let go of Alec and walked into the bedroom, bringing out a straight-back chair. She set it behind Mary, who lowered herself into it with a sigh. Then Mary reached out to take Alec’s hand. His eyes were rimmed with red when he looked down at her.

“Listen to me, Alec,” Mary said. “Listen good, all right? Annie had a need she just couldn’t get taken care of. It was too big for any one man to ever make a dent in, but I know for a fact you were the only one she loved. She hated herself for what she was doing, and I hated myself for the way I helped her. In the last few years, she was winning the battle, not seeing anyone, not bringing anyone over here. It was hard for her. She was fighting her own nature and it was uphill all the way. She was winning too, and proud of herself, until he came back.” Mary nodded toward the stairs where Paul had disappeared.

Olivia rested her hand on Alec’s back again. He gazed numbly at Mary, and she was not certain he could hear the old woman’s words. He was glassy-eyed; the muscles in his back were rigid beneath her hand.

“It was just the one time with Tom, as far as I know, Alec,” Mary continued. “Not an ongoing sort of thing. Annie felt bad about it. Terrible. And she always wanted you to know the truth about Lacey, but she just didn’t know how to tell you.” Mary licked her lips. “Remember when she had that marrow surgery? She nearly told you then, because she was so afraid she’d die without you knowing, which is just what happened in the end, I guess. She didn’t want to hurt you. She never wanted you to suffer because of her weakness.”

Alec extracted his hand from Mary’s grasp. He walked past Olivia and headed down the stairs. Olivia watched him go, as Mary sat back in the chair with a long sigh. She seemed to crumble, her body folding in on itself until she sat several inches lower in the chair than she had a moment ago. Then she looked up at Olivia.

“Did I do a terrible thing just now?” she asked.

Olivia knelt at her side, resting her own hand on Mary’s. “I think you’ve done all of us a tremendous favor,” she said.

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

Olivia had to get Sandy, the young woman from the retirement home, to help her walk Mary down the stairs of the keeper’s house and out to the van. Both Paul’s Honda and Alec’s Bronco were gone by the time she crossed the parking lot on her way to the beach, and a half dozen or so workmen had appeared, milling around the bulldozer and the lighthouse.

Mary didn’t say a word to either of them as they descended the stairs, and the old woman winced each time she took a step with her left leg. She was quiet out in the parking lot as well, and quiet as she climbed into the van. But once the door was closed and Sandy had helped her with the seat belt, she turned to speak to Olivia through the open window.

“You see to it that Alec’s all right,” she said, and Olivia nodded. That had already been her plan.

It was after eleven when she got home from Kiss River, and she walked directly into the study to call Alec. His phone rang for a long time, and she was trying to figure out what message she could possibly leave on his machine when he answered.

“Alec,” she said, “I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t respond for a moment, and when he did, the weariness in his voice was palpable. “I don’t think I can talk right now, Olivia,” he said.

She closed her eyes. “I just want you to know I’m thinking of you.”

She got off the phone and walked into the kitchen. She should eat something; she had to be at the ER in less than an hour, and she wouldn’t have another chance to eat until quite late. The thought of food, though, was nearly revolting. She made herself a cup of tea instead and was carrying it into the living room when Paul’s car pulled into the driveway. She set the tea down and met him at the front door.

He stood on the deck, looking pale and beaten. “May I come in?” he asked.

She stepped back to let him into the living room. He lowered himself onto the rattan chair with a sigh, and Sylvie jumped onto his lap and began purring loudly. Olivia sat down on the couch, across the room from him, and lifted the cup of tea to her lips. She felt an easy, almost druglike calm settling over her.

He smiled weakly. “Well, I got my eyes opened in one fell swoop, didn’t I?”

“I guess we all did.”

“I piled up the rest of her stained glass and dropped it off at the studio on my way over here,” he said, “with the understanding that Tom Nestor will donate it for me.” He shook his head. “Tom Nestor. I never would have guessed… I never…”

“Saint Anne,” Olivia said quietly.

Paul groaned. “I destroyed the tapes of the interviews, Olivia. I bashed them in with a hammer.”

“How very dramatic, Paul.”

He looked hurt, and she didn’t bother to apologize.

“I burned her pictures, too, although I have to admit it wasn’t easy.”

“You didn’t save a single one?”

“Nothing. There’s nothing left of her.”

“Good,” she said. “You need to be done with her, or you’re never going to be able to get on with your life.”

He looked at her. “It’s all been so ugly. What’s happened between us, I mean. I’ve been so ugly.”

She said nothing. She could hardly disagree.

“Do you still want anything to do with me?” he asked. “Do you still want to be a part of my life?”

She shook her head, slowly, as if trying out the motion to see how it felt, and he dropped his eyes quickly to the floor.

“Maybe you’re just reacting to what happened this morning,” he said.

She set her cup on the coffee table and leaned toward him. “I’m reacting to everything that’s happened over the last year, and to all those things that happened in your past that I knew nothing about. I’m reacting to your lack of respect for your own marriage, as well as for Annie’s and Alec’s. Even if I could forgive you for all of that, I could never trust you again. You lied to me throughout our entire marriage.”

“I didn’t, Liv. I told you I’d had a serious relationship years ago, and you said, ‘Let’s put the past behind us,’ remember? I would have told you all about Annie if you’d wanted to hear it.”

“You never even mentioned you’d spent a summer here.”

“I was trying to pretend that summer never happened.”

“You should have told me Annie was here before I took the job.”

“I tried to talk you out of taking it.”

“If you had really wanted to dissuade me, all you had to do was tell me your former lover lived here. But you intentionally avoided mentioning that fact.”

“I was wrong, Liv. I’ve been wrong about a lot of things. I’m sorry.” He looked down at his hand, at his wedding band. “Do you still want to go out to lunch?”