I try not to squirm under the weight of her stare, knowing I need to come clean. It’s not too late to start telling the actual truth for once in my whole stupid life.
“There’s this guy, Kyle, I was seeing. He’s … not the best person. My mom didn’t like that we were together. And he knew she was the reason I broke up with him. That was months ago, though. So I really don’t think—”
“How many months?”
“Like six?”
“Six months?” She pulls a notebook from her center console. “But you still stay in touch?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?” she pressed.
“I’m sure.” I hate how defensive I sound.
“Mmm. Okay. What’s his last name?”
“Lynch.”
“And you know thisKyle Lynchfrom where?”
“NYU. He’s a student.”
“A student, huh?” She sounds skeptical.
“Yeah, but he’s … he’s also into some other stuff.”
“What other stuff?”
“He’s a dealer. Not big time, only on campus to the other students.” I shift uncomfortably in the seat. “I used to help him sometimes.”
“I see,” Wilson says, raising her eyebrows slightly as she scribbles in her notebook.
“Anyway, you should check him out, but it would be good if he doesn’t know it’s because of me. It could make my life … hard,” I say. But I need to get the rest out, to say all of it. “Also, my dad is or was—he’s been having an affair.”
“I see,” she says quietly.
“I still don’t think he’d ever hurt my mom, though,” I say. That’s still true, but it does feel different when I say it this time. Like maybe I believe it just a little less.
“I understand,” Detective Wilson says, and I’m pretty sure I hear pity in her voice.
I think back again to the beach, but not to the day when I learned to swim. The time years earlier, when I nearly drowned. I remember it only in flashes: the way the sand burned my feet, the roar of the waves like a train. Then the terror—the world upside down, the burning pain. Water up my nose, the rocks gouging my knees. That horrible snap of whiplash as I was yanked by thewater.This is dead,I remember thinking. I’d only just learned what the word meant. And it was so much worse than anybody had said.
But I’m thinking now about what I don’t remember—anyone trying to stop me from running into the water. No one shoutedWait!Or called my name. No one chased after me. It was only me, sprinting headlong into the roiling sea.
A lifeguard pulled me out. His blond hair hanging down in front of my eyes was all I registered when I came to. And the smell of coconut sunscreen. My chest hurt for days from the compressions. Later, my dad leaned in close and made me promise never to tell my mom, like it was a special secret we shared.
“My dad also wanted to borrow money from my mom, for his movie.” And there it is, the last of his secrets I’ve been keeping. “And she said no.”
I meet eyes with Detective Wilson and it feels for a moment like she’s holding me in midair.
“Except now—my dad somehow has the money. Her money.”
“Oh,” she says. “Well, isn’t that something.”
“Yes,” I say. “I think it could be.”
December 1, 1992
