Beach Plum Island Read online

  But the three kids surrounded her, hulking beasts, their jeans low on their hips and ragged around their ankles, and demanded her purse. “Just give it to us without screaming and nobody gets hurt,” the tallest one, the white kid, said. His voice wasn’t menacing but his eyes meant business, and he had his hands jammed in his pockets in a way that suggested a weapon.

  Furiously, Elaine said, “You can’t just take my purse!”

  The boys looked at one another and burst out laughing, like this was all some big prank and there was a camera on them. Then the tall white kid said, “Um, yeah we can. And we need it right now.” He reached for her bag.

  “Wait!” Elaine stopped him. “At least let me have my phone. I need it to get home, and the cops will track you if you take it.”

  The boy scowled. “Okay. Grab the phone and go before we change our minds.”

  She took the phone out and handed him her bag. The boys skulked off into an alley beside her that she hadn’t even noticed. Elaine turned and ran for the spot where the cop had been, but of course he was gone.

  There was nobody, even, to tell about the mugging. If that’s what it was. Was it a mugging, if you just gave people your purse? Maybe those boys hadn’t even had a weapon. Why, oh why, hadn’t she taken a class in self-defense?

  The adrenaline that had kicked in a few minutes ago was rapidly fading. Elaine suddenly felt dizzy again. Unable to take another step. And now it didn’t matter if she found her car, because the boys had her keys. She couldn’t even take a subway or a taxi, because she had no money and no way of getting inside her condo.

  Whom could she call? She stood in the glare of a streetlamp, feeling stupidly conspicuous but not wanting to venture anywhere darker, her head swimming with wine and shame. She couldn’t call Ava. She lived too far away; Ava would take ages to get here. She couldn’t call anyone at work. Not even Tony, who would scold her and maybe, just maybe, start to wonder if his vice president was losing her wits.

  Like her mother. She was losing her mind, just like her mother.

  Elaine was crying now, her eyes and nose running. An older couple dressed for the theater, their arms around each other, actually crossed the street to avoid passing by her. She must look a fright, a crackhead in two-hundred-dollar heels. Who the hell could she call?

  She had nobody, Elaine realized. Nobody who would miss her if she wasn’t in her bed tonight.

  Then she remembered Gabe and his offer to rescue her. Okay. That was somebody to call, someone whose opinion she didn’t hold so dear. She could get over the humiliation of having him see her like this. She shuddered at the thought of what else she had almost done with that sweet boy, Kevin. Though maybe that would have been better for her, it wouldn’t have been great for Kevin, having some drunk cougar in his bed, weeping over her wreck of a family life or throwing up on his shoes.

  She had a good signal on her phone and found Gabe’s number easily online. He was the only Gabriel Blaustein listed. God, he had a landline. Who had a landline anymore? His address surprised her, too. It wasn’t far from here, a street in the South End. She would have pegged him as a guy with an apartment in Jamaica Plain or one of those other ex-student ghettos.

  Elaine dialed the number before she could chicken out. It was midnight; Gabe would most likely be asleep. Maybe he had someone with him. That hadn’t occurred to her before; the thought nearly made her hang up. Oh, so what. She could crash on his couch and figure out what to do in the morning. It wasn’t like she was interested in him. She just needed a ride and a safe haven.

  Gabe answered on the third ring, sounding surprisingly awake and suspicious. “Yes?”

  Well, of course he would wonder who was calling. Elaine had blocking on her phone. “Hi. This is Elaine Barrett, the woman you—”

  “I remember. Where are you? What can I do?” He sounded even more alert now.

  How humiliating! Gabe had obviously guessed that she had called because she needed him, not for any other reason. Well, there was nothing for it. “Tremont Street. I’ve been mugged. They took my purse and keys.”

  A sharp intake of breath. “Are you all right? You’re not hurt?”

  “No, no. I’m fine. I just need a place to crash tonight because I can’t get into my condo. Do you have a couch?”

  “Better than that. A spare guest room,” he said. “I’ll be right there. Go to the lobby of the Emerson dorm. The glass doors are always open and they have a security guard. You’ll be safe.”

  She wanted to ask how he knew this, but Gabe hung up before she could. Elaine took off her shoes and walked barefoot the two blocks to Emerson College, feeling horrified that she’d just made that call. She might as well have been walking around Boston in torn underwear, that’s how achingly vulnerable she felt.

  • • •

  On Monday, Gigi went to Ava’s at the usual time. Sam had gone to work, but Evan was there, looking sleepy in pajama pants and a T-shirt. She could tell he wasn’t ready to talk, so she said hello and then went out to help Ava unload the kiln from the last bisque firing.

  When they were finished, Ava said, “Ready to make some calls?”

  Gigi drew on a sketch pad at the kitchen table, where she could overhear Ava talking to various people at the adoption agencies. It took her only three calls before Ava found the right place, but then it was a disappointment. Ava nearly banged the phone down.

  “They say they can’t tell me anything without my mother’s consent,” Ava said, her face pinched and tired looking. “The records are sealed.”

  “Maybe the reunion registry will contact us,” Gigi said. “You filled in the papers, right? And Peter might be looking for us, too, remember.”

  “Maybe,” Ava said, but didn’t sound convinced. She opened the patio doors and stepped outside, rubbing her hands up and down her arms even though it was already hot. “I’ll be back soon,” she said. “I need to take a walk.” She set off without turning around, and Gigi knew not to follow her.

  Evan had been lurking around the refrigerator. Now he sat down across the table with a bowl of cereal. “Mom was out really late,” he said. “I was up gaming and heard her come in at, like, three in the morning. Was she at your house?”

  Gigi shook her head. No wonder Ava looked exhausted. “Maybe she was with Elaine.”

  “I guess.” He tipped the bowl to drink the milk. When he set it down, he had a milk mustache. Definitely the King of Cool, Evan.

  “Hey. I need to do something and I don’t want to do it alone,” Gigi said. “Would you come with me?”

  “Of course.”

  Gigi smiled at the way Evan agreed without even asking her what she needed to do. It was nice to have a friend like that. A friend who was also her family.

  What she needed to do was go to the stables and get her riding helmet. She’d left it there yesterday, she explained to Evan as they set off on their bikes. “Mom won’t let me leave it at the stables because it’s expensive.”

  “Sure,” he said, pedaling easily beside her. “You can introduce me to your horse.”

  On the way to the barn, Evan told Gigi he remembered her father taking him to the barn a couple of years ago. “Grandpa got up on the saddle of this big black beast. I mean, I really thought that horse would start snorting flames out of his nose or something, he was so fierce looking.”

  “Bantam? Fierce?” Gigi laughed. “Bantam is my horse, actually, and he’s a big baby. Spooks at his own shadow. Dad never had a horse of his own. He didn’t really have time to ride much. When we went out together, he usually rode Bantam and I took my mom’s horse, Dolly.”

  “Well, all I could think looking up at Grandpa was that he looked like a king about to lead a parade of knights on that horse,” Evan said. “Like a king in Game of Thrones.”

  The riding instructor looked surprised to see Gigi but was too busy yelling at someone
about the right way to change leads during the canter to say hello. Gigi led Evan over to Bantam and showed him how to hold his hand flat to give the horse a carrot nub while she scooted into the tack room, hoping to grab her helmet and get out again before seeing anyone she knew. Then it would be her lucky day.

  It wasn’t. Lydia was in the tack room, soaping a saddle, her blond hair pulled back in a ponytail. “Hey, quitter,” she said.

  Gigi wanted to say something rude but knew she’d better not. “Hey,” she said, and took her helmet off the peg.

  “I hear Justin and you hooked up before he left for school,” Lydia said.

  Gigi turned away, her face flaming hot, and willed herself to leave. “How did you hear that?”

  “He put it on Facebook. I bet you didn’t know that.”

  Gigi forced herself to shrug.

  “He only did it with you because he felt sorry for you.”

  Gigi spun on her heel. “You don’t know anything.”

  “I only know what’s on Facebook,” Lydia said sweetly.

  “Then I feel sorry for you,” Evan said. He was standing in the doorway, his arms folded, looking down at Lydia like she was a piece of dog crap. “You might not be old enough to use social media if you believe everything you read. Come on, Gigi. Let’s get out of here. I can’t stand the stink of manure in this place.”

  Gigi stared at him. Evan—geeky, sweet Evan—actually looked strong and even a little bit hot, standing in the doorway. She’d never realized how muscular his arms were. Then she laughed and tossed her head. “See you, Lydia. Have fun on Facebook.”

  She was gratified to see Lydia’s mouth fall open as they left.

  “Thank you,” she said to Evan as they pedaled back to Beach Plum Island.

  “Is it true about you and that kid hooking up?” He pulled up beside her, but kept his eyes on the road.

  Gigi felt her eyes burn. “Yes. But I was sorry right after. I was sorry during, actually. He’s a nice kid, but I don’t like him in that way.”

  “So why did you do it, then?”

  “I don’t know. He really wanted to. I was sad after Dad died. I don’t really have any friends. I guess it was just something to take my mind off things, you know?”

  He glanced at her then, his dark eyes serious and kind. “I’m your friend.”

  “I know. But you weren’t around then.”

  “I’m not judging you,” Evan said. “I get why you’d do that.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes. But I think that kid is shit for putting anything on Facebook.”

  “Maybe he didn’t. Lydia could have just said that.”

  “Are you going to check?”

  Gigi considered this a minute, then said, “No. I don’t really want to know. If I don’t pay any attention, it’ll go away. Either that, or people will think I’m a slut, and that will just make me more popular, right?”

  “I have no idea how these things work,” Evan said. “High school is a mystery to me.”

  “Yeah. To me, too.” Gigi sighed. “At least your school is really huge, though. It must be easy to disappear, or to find kids you like. At my school, everyone knows what everybody else is doing.”

  “That could definitely suck,” he said sympathetically. “You know, you could go to my high school. You could transfer, if you don’t like yours.”

  The thought was appealing. What if she did that? What if she just started over, and everybody she met knew nothing about her? “I like that idea,” Gigi said.

  “The classes are big,” he warned her. “And it’s pretty chaotic in the halls. But Sam and I have some cool friends, like those kids who come hear the band. And they have honors classes and a great art department. Plus, Sam and me, we’d have your back.”

  “You know, if you don’t become a musician, you should go into marketing like Elaine,” Gigi said. “You can make anything sound good.”

  They both laughed, then rode in silence the rest of the way to Ava’s house. It wasn’t until they were putting their bikes away that Gigi dared to ask. “Have you ever done it?”

  Evan shook his head. “Kissing, that’s about it. I’ve never even had a serious girlfriend. I liked this one girl last year, but so did Sam. You can probably guess how that turned out.”

  “Her loss. You’re cute and smart. And so out-there talented.”

  He grinned at her. “And nerdy. So fucking nerdy. I need a girl who’s into music, Magic cards, and gaming.”

  “And drawing ogres that look like trees. Don’t forget that,” Gigi said.

  “Oh, no, that goes without saying,” he said. Then they both cracked up and went inside.

  • • •

  Elaine called Ava at ten o’clock to ask if she had a key to her condo. Her voice was so hoarse and muffled, Ava didn’t recognize it at first.

  “Why are you whispering?” Ava asked. “I’m out on the beach and I can hardly hear you.”

  “I don’t want to disturb anybody here. Do you have a key to my place?”

  “Yes. Why? Did you lose yours?” Ava stopped in a sheltered place between the dunes and squinted into the sunlight, trying to understand what Elaine was saying about last night.

  Her sister’s story was so convoluted—a nightclub, a mugging in Boston, a midnight call for help, Jesus—that Ava told Elaine to wait and tell her about it in person. “God,” she muttered, “I can’t believe you think I have nothing better to do than bail you out. I’ll be there as soon as I can get home, shower, and drive down. It could take a couple of hours. Can’t you just go to work?”

  There was a faint laugh. “No way,” Elaine said. “I don’t have any clothes except what I wore last night. I slept at a friend’s. Can you pick me up here? And bring me some clothes, too?”

  “Where are you? At Tony’s?”

  “No. Another friend’s.” Elaine gave her an address Ava didn’t recognize. “It’s in the South End. I’ll text it to you. You’ll come, right? As soon as possible?”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Ava hung up, feeling irritable. There went half her day. As much as she hated thinking about Elaine alone and vulnerable at night in Boston, she couldn’t help but wish her sister had better sense. She was probably drunk, too, if she’d been at a club.

  As she walked back to the house, Ava had a sudden memory of how, in fifth or sixth grade, Elaine had fallen while riding her bike home from school. She’d popped a tire and skidded into a metal guardrail; the fall had caused an inch-long rock shard to become embedded in her knee. Over the next few days, Elaine’s knee had swollen to the size of a baseball and the skin had gone red, then purple, before Elaine was in enough pain to mention it to Ava.

  Ava had taken one look at the knee and, rather than wake their mother, who was hopeless at this sort of thing, called their father at the bank. He met them at the ER. It took a massive course of antibiotics to treat the blood poisoning; the doctor said it was a wonder Elaine didn’t lose her leg.

  “Why didn’t you tell me right when it happened?” Ava asked her once they were home from the hospital.

  “I thought it would just go away,” Elaine had said. “Plus I didn’t want to bother you. You’re always busy with Mark.”

  At least her sister was safe for the moment. Ava racewalked back to the house and arrived to find Gigi and Evan sitting on the patio, drawing. “I have to go to Boston,” she said.

  The kids lifted their heads. “What for?” Evan asked.

  “Elaine needs me to do something.” No point in saying more, when Ava hardly knew anything herself.

  “What about the kiln?” Gigi asked.

  Shoot. She’d forgotten that she’d started it earlier this morning. Thank God Gigi remembered. “Can you check the cones and make sure it doesn’t get too hot? And see that it shuts off at the right time?”

&n
bsp; “Sure,” Gigi said. “I was planning to hang out here and practice with the band anyway.”

  “Great. Thanks. There’s pizza in the freezer if anybody gets hungry. Evan, unload the dishwasher, okay?”

  “Yep.”

  They bent their heads down to their sketch pads again, sharing an iPod, bare feet tapping. Gigi’s hair was growing out fast; the roots were nearly the same color as Evan’s.

  Ava headed upstairs for a quick shower. She was stopped by another phone call on the landing. This time it was Simon. Ava took the phone into the bedroom and shut the door.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “I’m about to take a shower.”

  He groaned. “Don’t torture me like that.”

  She laughed, her skin tingling. “You’re so easy.”

  “Because you’re so lovely.”

  There was a brief silence. Ava wondered if Simon was remembering the night before, as she was. She had replayed their lovemaking over and over again, knowing it wouldn’t, couldn’t happen again. “It was torture to leave you last night,” she said.

  “Not as bad as having you leave,” he said. “Can you come to Boston for lunch?”

  Ava glanced at the clock. “I can, actually. I’m headed there right now.”

  “What?” He gave a delighted laugh. “Why? To see me?”

  She sighed. “To bail out Elaine, actually. Well, not literally, not out of jail, but she’s gotten herself into some kind of mess. She was mugged and they took her keys and wallet.”

  “Oh, no.” Simon sounded genuinely sympathetic. “How horrible for her.”

  “Yes, well, we won’t get into the question of why Elaine was wandering the streets of Boston by herself at night, probably in high heels and most likely drunk.”

  “It must be hard for her to be alone,” Simon said, unexpectedly. “Especially now, with you so taken up with Gigi and finding your brother.”

  Now Ava felt irritated with Simon, too. Was he actually criticizing her for not spending more time with Elaine? Why did everyone always expect her to be so understanding? When would it be her turn to fall apart and stop having to act so damn adult all the time?