Before the Storm (42 page)

him. We planned to meet Friday night on the beach at the very

north end of the Island, where what was left of Daddy’s old

chapel stood. I hoped it didn’t rain, but even if it did, I was

going. Every time I thought about being with him again, my

heart sped up.

Amber hugged herself through her UNC sweatshirt. “I’m

glad I’ll be inland tonight,” she said as we got on the Beltline.

“Why?”

“Where’ve you been?” She brushed a speck of something off

her pink toenail. “There’s like a major nor’easter coming.

Supposed to blow hard on the coast. I mean, I guess I’ll see

some of it at UNC, but not like you’ll get on the island.”

Was that why it seemed so dark? I took off my sunglasses

and saw that the clouds looked like clumps of ashes. Maybe the

storm could screw up the hearing tomorrow. A really good

storm might make them close the courthouse for the day.

Maybe the hearing would have to be postponed and we could

find a better lawyer or something.

I dropped Amber off on the UNC campus, and then spent

forty-five minutes trying to find the hospital and parking lot

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for the burn center. I forgot the blue gift bag of cards on the

backseat of my car and was almost to the elevator when I remembered. It was already starting to rain a little when I went

to my car for them. I didn’t want to have to drive in a

nor’easter, thank you. I’d have to rush.

I found the burn center. There was a big desk with a bunch

of nurses, and I asked them for directions to Keith’s room.

One of the nurses—overweight, blond and about Mom’s

age—looked up from a computer keyboard. “It’s not visiting

hours, sugar,” she said.

I cringed at the word
sugar.
I didn’t need any reminders of

Dawn.

“I looked the hospital up on the Internet and it said visiting

hours were from six to ten,” I insisted.

“The burn center has its own hours,” she said, but she stood

up. “Who’re you here to see? Keith Weston, did you say?”

I nodded. “I drove all the way from Topsail Island.”

“Bless your heart,” she said. “Oh, you go ahead. His

mama’s not here today and he can probably use the company.” She pointed down the hallway. “Second door on the

right.”

I stood in Keith’s doorway, suddenly scared to walk inside.

I could see him in the bed closest to the door, watching a TV

suspended from the ceiling. I thought he had two long, thick

tubes of white fabric lying at his sides until I realized they were

his arms and hands, completely covered with bandages. This

is what the fire did, I thought. This is only a
tiny part
of what

the fire did. My knees went soft and I leaned against the door

frame. Amber was wrong. I wasn’t brave. I wanted to run

back down the hallway and out of the hospital.

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371

But I had to do this. I made my mushy knees walk into the

room.

“Hey, Keith,” I said. I’d known Keith his whole life. We had

a picture of me when I was three holding him on my lap. For

years, I thought it was Andy in that picture, until Mom told

me Andy didn’t live with us until he was a year old. I was

eleven when she told me about drinking too much while she

was pregnant with him and that’s what made him the way he

was. I was so angry with her that I tried to hit her when she

told me. She caught my hand, and in typical Mom fashion told

me she understood my anger, that she felt angry at
herself
for

what she’d done, but she’d tried to forgive herself and she

hoped I could, too. I still wasn’t sure I had.

Keith turned to look at me and I saw the bandages covering

one whole side of his face. I felt like crying. He seemed sort

of spaced out, staring at me like he didn’t know who I was.

“It’s Maggie.” I moved right up against his bed.

“I know who you are,” he said. “What are you doing here?

Slumming?”

Slumming?
What was he talking about? I held up the blue gift

bag. “The kids at Douglas Elementary made a bunch of cards

and pictures for you,” I said.

Obviously, he couldn’t reach for the bag. I looked at his arms

and noticed skinny metal rods sticking out from the bandages

around his left hand. I thought I might get sick. There was a

chair next to his bed and I sat down.

“Would you like me to read the cards to you?” I asked.

“Does this ease your conscience or something?” he asked.

“The rich girl visiting the poor boy in the hospital?”

His attitude shook me up. What was his problem? I knew

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he’d called Andy a rich kid or something at the lock-in and now

he was doing the same thing to me.

“What are you talking about?” I asked. “Why are you

suddenly calling Andy and me rich?”

“Because you
are,
aren’t you? Especially compared to me and

my mom. Rich and lucky.”

I figured he meant that Andy had escaped from the fire

with minor injuries, while he was lying there covered with

bandages. “I know we’re lucky,” I said. I glanced at the TV and

saw a weather map on the screen before looking at him again.

“Keith, tell me what you told the investigators about seeing

Andy outside before the fire.”

He either coughed or laughed, I wasn’t sure which. It took

a minute for him to catch his breath. “So that’s it,” he said

finally.“You’re not here to visit poor Keith. To bring poor Keith

some crap made by second-graders.You’re here to convince

him that your precious, lame-o baby brother is innocent.”

“Not true,” I said. “I just wanted to know what you think

you saw.”

“I’ve got a news flash for you, Maggie,” he said. “He’s not

just
your
brother.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s
my
brother, too.”

Maybe the pain drugs were messing with his head.“Did you

really see him outside the church, Keith?”

“Did you hear me?” He looked like he was trying to sit up

but couldn’t manage it. I didn’t know if I should help him or

not. “Andy’s my brother,” he said. “And
you’re
my sister.”

I stood up. “I’ll ask one of the nurses to come check on

you,” I said.

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“Why? You think I’m talking crazy? Full of shit?”

“I don’t know what you’re talk—”

“Your father fucked my mother,” he said.

“What?”

“You heard me. He fucked my mother and nine months later

I was born. That makes me your half brother. The side of the

family that lives in a trailer and eats ramen noodles while you

and Andy-the-hero eat steak.”

“I don’t believe you,” I said.

“Go ask your uncle,” he said. “He knows all about it.”

I took a step backward, my knees mush again. “You’re full

of it,” I said. “My father would never do something like that.”

He croaked out that half laugh, half cough sound again.

“Looks like you didn’t know him very well, big sister.”

“I knew him better than anyone!” I pictured myself as a

little girl sitting next to Daddy on the deck, running my fingers

over the tattoo on his arm. “You’re just trying to piss me off.”

“You don’t look pissed,” Keith said. “You look like someone

just kicked you in the gut. What’s the matter? Don’t you want

another brother?”

I stared at him and suddenly felt like I was looking in a

mirror. The dark wavy hair. The enormous brown eye. Lashes

thick and black. The room felt as long as a tunnel, its dark walls

closing in on me. I took another step backward and my hand

grasped the doorjamb.

“Go ask your uncle,” Keith said again. “He can fill you in on

all the juicy, sicko details.”

I turned and flew out of the room, nearly tripping over my

rubbery legs in my rush to escape, but his voice followed me

all the way to the elevator:

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“Bring me some of your money next time, sis!” he shouted,

and I pushed the elevator button with my elbow, my hands

pressed tightly over my ears.

I DIALED MY CELL WHILE DRIVING SEVENTY-FIVE miles an

hour through the rain.

“That you, Mags?” Uncle Marcus answered.

“I need to talk to you.” I heard radio static in the background. “Are you at the station?”

“I am.You at school?”

“I’m driving back from Chapel Hill.” I had to slow down

because the car in front of me was practically crawling.“I talked

to Keith.”

Total silence.

“Oh my
God!
” I wailed. “Don’t tell me it’s true!”

“Listen, Maggie. Calm down. How close are you? When can

I see you?”

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“I’m like still two hours away! You need to tell me now.”

“Uh-uh. Not over the phone. It’s nearly two. Call me when

you get closer and I’ll try to get away, okay?”

“Is Keith my half brother?”

“Maggie. I’m
not
talking about this now. Turn on your radio

or a CD or whatever and put this out of your mind. Is it raining

where you are?”

My wipers slapped back and forth. “Yes,” I said.

“Concentrate on your driving, babe, all right? I love you.

Call when you get closer.”

I tossed my phone onto the passenger seat. Then I screamed

out loud. Just screamed until I was hoarse.

The turtle in front of me was actually slowing down even

more. I had to pass it or I knew I’d snap. I checked my mirror.

No cars behind me. As soon as I started to steer to the left,

though, someone laid on his horn and I jerked back into my

lane and saw a black Saab in my mirror. Where’d
he
come

from? I pressed my brakes to slow down to the turtle’s speed.

Adrenaline raced down my arms to the tips of my fingers. I

had to be more careful. I could have died right there, and if I

died, who would help my brother?

I picked up my cell again and tried to call Ben to tell him

about the whole Keith thing, but I got his voice mail. “This is

Ben Trippett. If that’s who you’re trying to call, please leave

a message.” I didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t worry him,

but I loved hearing his voice. I kept hitting redial over and over

again to listen to it. I didn’t want to repeat what Keith had told

me anyway without knowing the truth, but I knew there was

something to it for Uncle Marcus to go quiet like that.

I passed the turtle when I was sure it was safe. I turned on

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377

the radio like Uncle Marcus suggested. I couldn’t get my regular

station that far from Surf City, so I hit scan and listened to

snippets of country music and Bible talk for the next hour, not

even noticing that I was getting the stations only in ten-second

bursts.

“Daddy,” I whispered to the only perfect person I’d ever

known. “Please don’t let it be true.”

Uncle Marcus said he’d meet me at Sears Landing. I got

there first and sat in the far corner of the restaurant. I wanted

to be as far from the door and the kitchen as possible because

I knew I was going to cry. I watched the rain beating down on

Topsail Sound outside the window. It came down at an angle

to the water, the wind already kicking up. The sky was so

heavy and low, the clouds almost touched the water.

Uncle Marcus showed up looking wet and old. My phone

call had gotten to him. I didn’t have the energy to stand up for

a hug, so he bent over and kissed my cheek.

“How’re you holding up?” he asked.

“Awesome,” I said sarcastically.

“Yeah.” He sat down kitty-corner from me. “I can imagine.”

He rested his forearms on the table. “So, tell me what Keith

said.”

“That he’s my half brother. Andy’s and mine. He said Daddy

and Sara…you know.” I could not—absolutely could not—

think about it. “I thought maybe he was just trying to piss me

off. He’s so angry about getting burned. Not that I blame

him.”

Uncle Marcus played with the saltshaker on the table,

moving it back and forth with his fingertips. I tried to be

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patient, but he was getting on my nerves. And then the

waitress, a girl named Georgia Ann who graduated from my

high school a few years earlier, showed up at our table.

“Hey, Marcus. Maggie,” she said, opening her little notepad.

“You must be fixin’ to graduate, huh, Maggie?”

“Soon.” I knew coming to a restaurant had been a bad idea,

but it was too rainy to meet on the beach and Uncle Marcus

didn’t want to talk at the station.

“I’ll have a beach dog and onion rings and iced tea.” Uncle

Marcus got right to the point with her, although I didn’t see

how his appetite could be all that great. “How about you,

Maggie?” he asked.

“I’m not hungry,” I said.

“Bring her a sweet tea,” Uncle Marcus told Georgia Ann.

“Sure will,” she said, and I was relieved when she walked

away.

Uncle Marcus started working on the saltshaker again.“I’ve

decided to tell you everything,” he said, “because if I