Chapter 7
1101 Words
7
I’m grateful for the coat.
The air here is cold, and moist in a way I’m not used to. I’ve always lived in the desert, and up until the past few weeks with Halli, have never spent much time anywhere else. And now just because of her I’ve already been to Colorado, Germany, the Alps, and now a private island off the coast of Washington. Not to mention a whole separate, parallel universe, if you want to count that.
“I don’t know all the details,” Jake is saying, “but I’ve heard a few things over the years, so I’ll tell you what I can. Some of it is in the histories, but a lot of it is just gossip among the staff. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No,” I say. “Gossip is fine.” In fact, gossip is great. At this point I’m so hungry for information I don’t care if it has to come from the friend of a friend of a gardener.
“Your grandmother lent your parents money,” Jake says. “Do you know about that?”
“No,” I say. “Go on.”
“It was back in the beginning—before your parents even knew they would start a company. They had an idea for a water process, and needed some money to test out their theories.”
“Their theories?” I say. “Both my mother’s and my father’s?”
“His in chemistry, hers in hydroengineering.”
Now I get it. I was too overwhelmed by all the shoes in that warehouse of a closet to really pay attention to what Alexa said before. When she told me Dr. Markham expected everyone to dress for dinner, somehow I thought she meant Halli’s father. But now I remember his last name is Bellows. Which means it’s Halli’s mother who is Dr. Markham.
So both her parents are scientists. And Halli grew up to be an adventurer. Whereas both my parents are social working do-gooders, and yet I became a scientist. Go figure.
“The three of them,” Jake continues, “your parents and your grandmother, were in India together at the time. They were visiting different villages so your parents could assess the need. Your grandmother agreed to guide them, since she knew the country.”
That makes sense. Halli said even before she was born, Ginny was already a world-traveler, and had spent time in India, among other places.
“Then your parents came up with the idea,” Jake says. “The osmotic power system. And right around the same time, your mother became pregnant with you.”
A wet chill goes through me, and it’s not just from the nighttime breeze. I’m starting to get a bad feeling. I think I know where this is going, but I don’t really want to hear it.
“Red!” He’s jumped out of the water, and decided the best place to shake himself dry is right behind Jake and me. The back of my dress is soaked.
“Go on,” I tell Jake, pausing to wring out my dress.
He hesitates. He doesn’t know that I’ve already guessed.
“I don’t know this part for sure,” he says. “It could just be people talking.”
“They made a deal,” I say. “Me for the money.”
“Not that mercenary,” he says, “but yes . . . in a way.”
“So what exactly was the agreement?” I ask. “They hand me over and Ginny finances their company?”
“I don’t know if you really want to hear this,” Jake says.
“Tell me.”
We’re heading up a dirt pathway now, leading us away from the water toward the forest behind the mansion. I can’t see my way very well, but Jake obviously knows the path.
“Your parents . . .” I can hear him snap a twig off a low-hanging branch. More snaps as he breaks it into pieces. He’s stalling, and I know it.
“Jake, you can tell me,” I say. “I’d rather know. I doubt it’ll change how I feel about them.”
“They’re not bad people,” he answers. “But they’re not . . . parental. They don’t like kids—they never have, as far as I can tell. I’ve grown up in this house, and they never liked me or Alexa or any of the other children until we were at least teenagers. They still look right through some of the younger ones like they’re pieces of furniture.”
“Yeah,” I say, “they sound like great people.”
He stops on the dark path and turns to me. “I don’t want you to have the wrong impression. They didn’t give you to Ginny—”
“No, they sold me.”
“No,” Jake says, “they were honest. They didn’t give you to her just because of the money. They knew you’d never have the kind of life with them that you could have with your grandmother. She wanted you. Your parents—they just didn’t. What they wanted was their work. And Ginny could help them with that. At least that’s what I heard.”
We start walking again. And I’m not sure how I feel. I want to be disgusted, but that feels like a fake reaction—like I should feel that way.
What would Halli think, hearing this story? I guess there are two sides to it: One, Ginny really did love her and want her, from the very start, and she made a smart decision by offering to take Halli when it was clear her parents didn’t want her.
But on the other hand, who wants to hear that your parents just turned you over? That it was an easy trade, yeah, you take my kid, and would you write me a nice, fat check in exchange?
And on the other-other hand, I look at this place, and at the people who own it, and think there’s no way in a million years Halli could have been as happy here, with them, as she was with her grandmother. And she’d still be happy if Ginny hadn’t died. So isn’t it better that Halli had sixteen great years with a grandmother who adored her, rather than sixteen miserable years with parents who didn’t care about her at all?
“There’s more,” Jake says.
“Oh, boy,” I say, letting out a breath. “Okay, tell me.”
He snaps off another twig.
This time I grab his fist before he can do the whole stalling routine again. “Just tell me.”
“Halli, you’re freezing.” Jake takes my hand between both of his. “Why didn’t you say so? We can go back inside.”
“No,” I say. “I’m fine.” Although now that the truth is out, my teeth feel free to chatter. “Finish what you were going to say. I want to know.”
“At least put this on.” He helps me slip my arms into the jacket. Up until now I’ve just had it draped around my shoulders. He folds the front of it across me, then opens up the collar so it warms my neck.
“Better?” he asks quietly. He’s still holding onto the collar. He’s so close I can feel the warmth of his body, the feeling of his breath against my cheek.
I’m having a hard time finding my voice. I force myself to nod. And even that feels like it takes an incredible amount of strength.
But I have to say something. I know I do.
I can barely croak it out. “What were you going to tell me?”
“I forgot,” Jake says.
He doesn’t smell like Will, he smells like himself. I close my eyes and breathe it in. I don’t know why I ever thought it was the same. This is much, much better.
Then he whispers my name—
—her name—
“Halli . . .”
And finds my lips in the dark.
- Writer
