Page 100 of The Summer that Changed Everything
But her heart was more stubborn than she’d imagined. She couldn’t concentrate on anything but him and paced around the dining table until she saw him coming up the walk.
He was carrying his suitcase. At the sight of it, she nearly burst into tears. She was still trying to control her emotions when he knocked on the door.
Pressing herself against a wall, where he couldn’t see her through the windows, she tried to swallow the lump in her throat. The way things had gone fifteen years ago had created so much fear. Her mother had abandoned her years before that. Her father had essentially abandoned her by doing the terrible things he did—ifhe were truly guilty. And Ford and most of the friends she’d had when she lived in North Hampton Beach had abandoned her, too. Houston’s presence—the way he’d treated her when he showed up—had brought the pain of it all back.
“Lucy?” Ford called. “Lucy, open the door.”
Although she could easily hear him—it was so hot all the windows were open—she didn’t answer. She’d needed a few minutes to gather herself, but he was already getting impatient. She heard a thump. He must’ve dropped his bag before starting around the house, because he was moving fast when she caught a glimpse of him through a side window.
Once he reached the back porch, he’d be able to see her, unless she found a better place to hide. He’d also be able to get in simply by breaking the screen door. But doing anything morethan ducking to the side for a few moments seemed childish. She had to speak to him. He hadn’t done anything wrong.
Battling the specter of what she’d experienced in the past, she drew a deep breath and went to open the door.
She’d managed to hold back her tears, felt like she was once again in control, but he knew what she was feeling. She could tell he did when his arms went around her and he kissed the top of her head. “It’s okay. Houston isn’t going to change anything. He can stay in the big house, and we’ll stay here. It might get pretty damn hot without air-conditioning,” he said with a chuckle. “But at least we’ll be together.”
Ford had told her before that he would remain committed to spending the summer with her even after his brother arrived. But when Houston showed up and Ford wasn’t there to deal with him, she’d lost all confidence. For Ford to follow through, he’d have to choose her over his family, and she couldn’t believe he’d really do that. He hadn’t before, and he probably shouldn’t now. After all, they’d be part of his life long after this one summer. “I don’t want to come between you and your brother,” she said, her mouth against his solid chest.
“If he lets the fact that I want to be with you come between us, that’s on him.”
It was more comfortable, at least for Lucy, to be back in the cottage. While Ford’s beachfront home was far more luxurious, and there was something to be said for air-conditioning, living there was also a constant reminder of the rejection she faced by his family. Houston’s appearance made it much more difficult to ignore the fact that Ford’s mother and brother weren’t happy that she was infiltrating their sanctuary all these years later.
But she and Ford made a pact that they’d blow off Houston’s presence, at least for today. Other than discussing Ford’s conversation with Chet and Chet’s insistence that Aurora hadn’tleft the party with him, they didn’t talk about the murders or her father. Houston’s showing up in North Hampton Beach had reminded them of how very short the summer would be. They wanted to spend the day together without the overhang of the past, so they walked on the beach, swam and bodysurfed. Then they showered in Sharon Smoot’s cramped tub-shower combo, and Ford took Lucy to Washington DC for dinner, where they could have an evening out without the worry of running into someone they knew.
It was midnight when they got back. Ever since someone had broken into the cottage, Lucy couldn’t help feeling wary as she approached it, especially now, since it was so late. She could tell Ford was being cautious, too. He gently put her behind him as he opened the door. But everything looked fine and a quick turn around the house while they opened all the windows they’d closed when they left proved nothing had happened in the interim.
Ford had just gotten into bed and turned on the TV when she went out to get the mail and found a letter from her father.
“He wrote me!” she announced as she brought it into the bedroom and showed it to Ford before sitting down beside him.
He shifted to make more room for her, stuffing another pillow behind his back as she opened the envelope. “What does he say?”
As she stared at her father’s blocky all-caps printing—in pencil since inmates weren’t allowed pens—she marveled at the fact that heandFord were both back in her life. She’d certainly never expected that to happen. For so long, she hadn’t been able to imagine feeling strong enough to return to North Hampton Beach, let alone interact with the two men she’d loved the most. She still didn’t know where this summer would lead—if she’d be glad she’d made the effort, or if the past would sweep her back out to sea, once again leaving her lost and alone and struggling just to survive.
But if there wasanychance her father was innocent, she owedit to him to do what she could. And if he was guilty? If she could determine that with more certainty, she’d be able to move on with greater peace of mind, which also made the risk worth taking. At a minimum, she hoped to prove she’d had nothing to do with Aurora’s death—hadn’t even provided the motivation.
Regardless of how it all ended, she was in it now. There was no going back.
“He says that the clothes he washed the morning the Matteos were murdered were tested for DNA and there was no blood.”
“I remember that coming up at his trial,” Ford said.
“So do I. That was one thing his lawyerdidpoint out. My father said he washed them because he’d thrown up the night before and didn’t want me to have to deal with the mess. But all of that got brushed aside when the prosecutor hammered home the DNA evidence under Tony’s fingernails, even though my father’s boots didn’t have any blood on them, either.”
“The assumption was that he must’ve cleaned them, like he did his clothes.”
“He insists he didn’t. And he brings up something new. He says Reggie used to buy dope from Cary Whitehead, who also lived in the trailer park. There were rumors Reggie came over trying to score some drugs that night, but he didn’t have the money and Cary wouldn’t sell to him on credit because he was already so behind.”
“That places Reggie—a known thug and troublemaker—in the park that night.”
“And he needed money. My father says that Susan Willett, who lived next door to Cary, told him she overheard the two of them arguing. Reggie wasn’t giving up easily, kept saying he’d pay him back, that he was good for it and so on. She called my father—well before the police discovered what had happened to the Matteos, which wasn’t until three days later—to complain about the noise.”
“Why didn’t the defense attorney make a bigger deal of that?”
“Because Reggie wasn’t the one on trial, I guess. The police weren’t looking for another suspect. Once they found the DNA evidence under Tony’s fingernails, nothing else mattered.”
“What a coincidence that your father was put in the same cell as Reggie.”
“And that Reggie’s the one who claimed he confessed,” she said.
