Summer of Lost and Found (23 page)

If my head didn't hurt so much, I'd have slapped my forehead.
Maybe if I'd read all the placards in the museum, I could've put two and two together.
But how was I supposed to know that?

“If I'd met him,
I
 would've picked up on that, like, immediately,” Lila added. That actually made me feel better: If I were going to die on the deck of their fishing boat, from seawater overdose or something, Lila probably wouldn't be acting like such a know-it-all. The universe was righting itself, and I was going to be just fine after I got home, took an extralong hot shower, and slept.

Still, I said, “Don't be a knave, Lila.”

“I do know what that means,” she replied.

The rain had mostly stopped when we finally docked. My mom got out to drive the Jeep close to the pier. I stood up, shaky on my sea legs, so Lila and Kate helped me step off the boat. Before they guided me into the idling car, Lila tugged on my arm. “I'll come by tomorrow. We need to talk about this”—she lowered her voice so our mothers couldn't hear—“ghostly new development.”

I weakly nodded my okay. After Lila helped save me in that storm, I owed her some time and information. I also owed her for wrecking the metal detector—and I'd use the money I'd earned from my mom to pay for it. Although the balance between Lila and me seemed a little more equal now that I was the one who'd found both a shipwreck
and
a ghost.

Kate leaned into the driver's-side window, talking to my mom. “I'd keep a close eye on Nell tonight.”

“Do you think she should go to a doctor? What about dry drowning or hypothermia? Or if all that salt water hurt her electrolytes . . .”

Kate wrote something down on a slip of paper. “The medical center's closed, but here's our family doctor's number. Call Dr. Parrish and let him know what happened—tell him the Midgetts referred you. Make sure Nell stays toasty and dry, keep an eye on her breathing, and give her lots of warm fluids. But I think she'll be just fine. She's one tough cookie.”

As soon as we got back to the cottage, Mom had me take a hot shower. She actually wanted to stay in the bathroom with me, to make sure I didn't pass out or anything. But I wouldn't let her, so instead she checked in with the doctor. Afterward, Mom got Dad on the phone.

“Nell!” His voice sounded tinny and faraway. “Thank goodness you're okay. I—I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you. . . .”

“I'm sorry, Dad.” Even though it was so good to hear his voice, I could barely hold my head up, and I kept blinking away sleep. I hardly remember what he said because I was in such an exhausted daze. After a few minutes Mom took back the phone and I shuffled to my room, where I could still hear her muffled voice. For the first time since before we left for Roanoke—since my dad disappeared on us—she said, “I . . . love you, too,” before hanging up the phone. I smiled as I ran a brush through my hopelessly tangled hair.

Mom didn't interrogate me, but just wrapped me up in all the blankets and told me to rest. I think she might've sat in my bedroom, watching me sleep, the whole night. The next morning, though, she may as well have thrown me on the griddle with the pancakes and bacon—because she really grilled me. “We both have a lot of explaining to do,” she said as I limped into the kitchen. My
everything
was achy: head, knees, back, feet, eyes, neck. Even my hair hurt. I yawned and lowered myself into the chair next to her. Mom poured me a glass of juice.

I yawned again. “I might need coffee.”

I was kidding, but Mom didn't find it funny. “No way. You're still dehydrated. Caffeine ban for you.”

I sipped my juice. “I know I scared you. I didn't mean for that to happen.”

Mom snorted, but not in a mean way. “ ‘Scared' is a bit of an understatement. When I came home around lunchtime and you were gone, I was worried. Then your dad called in a panic, to tell me the message you'd left him about going on a boat. He'd tried your phone and it kept going to voice mail. Somehow, he knew something was very wrong. That's when I wasn't just terrified for you, but hurt, too. Imagine being a mom and knowing your child is not only in trouble, but was sneaking around on you.”

I swallowed hard. “I wasn't trying to be sneaky. I figured that you'd worry if I told you where I was going, but I also knew I had to tell someone. That's why I sent the message to Dad.”

“What you mean is, you ‘figured' that I'd forbid you from going.”

I studied the forkful of pancake I was holding. Eventually, I nodded. “Yeah. That was sneaky and wrong.”

Mom's voice wavered. “If Lila hadn't known exactly what you were up to . . .” She trailed off.

“Wait.” I set down my fork. “How
did
 Lila know? I thought
you
asked them to go after me.”

Mom shook her head. “Luke and I were at the vine when your father phoned, and on our way back to town Kate called to tell Luke that Lila was begging her to rescue you. Lila was convinced you were out to sea in that storm.”

She really
had
saved me. But how had Lila known that I was out on the water? Was she following me that day? Whenever she came by, I had questions of my own for her.

My mom, waiting for me to explain myself,
ahem
ed from across the table.

“I guess you want to know why I was in the skiff ?”

She nodded yes.

“I took the boat out to see if I could find clues about the lost colony along the water's edge, where the land has eroded over the years. Ambr—” Oops, last thing I wanted to do was bring up that I'd spent the bulk of my time on the island hanging out with a risk-taking ghost boy. I was telling her the truth, but as much as she'd believe. “I've been trying to find evidence all summer. To figure out what happened to the colonists.”

“With Lila?”

“More like in competition with her. She was trying to use her ghost-hunting stuff to locate the lost colony. That gave me the idea that Roanoke is a mystery Dad could write about. I thought if I could just find the clues for him . . .”

Mom sighed. “I see.”

“But I never expected to get stuck out at sea in a storm.” I paused. “I'm really,
really
sorry for scaring you, and for needing Lila and Kate to rescue me.”

Mom tried to smile. “I accept your apology, but I think it goes without saying that I never, ever want you to do something like this again. And I'm going to have to think about appropriate consequences. Okay?”

I nodded. “Okay.” In the silence that followed, I thought about what I'd realized while stranded in the skiff: that I wanted to paddle my own way out of problems now. “Well, I have some questions for you, too,” I said. “If it's okay for me to ask them.”

Mom looked me right in the eye and nodded. “That sounds like a good idea, sprout.” For once, not a
we'll see
answer.

My voice wavering, I asked, “Why did Dad go to London so suddenly? What's going on with you guys? I want to know the truth.”

Mom looked down at her coffee cup, rolling it in her hands. “Now
I
need to make an apology to you. I know it's been a rough summer. You've been concerned about your dad and everything that's been going on—and I haven't given you many answers. Hardly
any
 answers. I'm very sorry for that.”

A lump was forming in my throat. Ever since the day my dad disappeared, I'd longed to know what was going on with our family—even if it wasn't something I'd like to hear. Now that it seemed like Mom might tell me, though, I felt scared.

Mom continued, “Your dad and I . . . Things have been kind of hard for a while. We do love each other, and we love you. But it just hasn't been working between the two of us. We became very unhappy.” She stopped to hold up the juice carton to offer me a refill. I shook my head no.

“Anyway, it got to a point that, well . . . I decided it might be good if your dad went away for a little while. On a trial basis,” she added quickly. “So we both could see how things are when we're apart.”

“
You
decided?” My head was spinning. This whole time, I thought my dad had walked out on us. But it was my mom's idea for him to go?

I'd spent so much time being upset with
him
, for leaving not just me but
us
. I shuddered with guilt as I considered that maybe he'd disappeared only because Mom had told him to.

“It was sort of mutual. But ultimately, yes, it was my call.” Mom cleared her throat. “He was so upset when I asked that he left immediately. We didn't plan it that way, to be so sudden and alarming. I should've told you that before. Pretending like Dad went away for work was a cop-out. It made things easier for me, and maybe for him, too, but not for you.” Mom looked like she might cry. “I tried to explain a couple of times, but I felt so guilty. Because I was the one who uprooted us. I didn't want you to hate me for that.” Mom brushed at her eyes. “Then after I found out he took a spontaneous trip to London, of all places, I was as angry as I was confused. I didn't want you to feel as lost as I felt. I'm afraid that we didn't handle this very well.”

“Not at all!” I wanted to stomp out of the room, except there was that whole achiness thing. But I also wasn't finished asking questions.
This is scary, but I know now how brave I can be.
“So what's going on now? Are you guys getting divorced?” I heard her say the word “love” last night. Did divorced people say that to each other? Maybe only in times of crisis, like after their kid was trapped on a boat in stormy seas? I had no idea.

“The truth is—I don't know. But I promise I'll be honest with you from now on.”

That didn't make me feel happy, or even relieved, but it was a start.

•  •  •

I spent the rest of the morning in the garden, reading my Shakespeare book. I opened it to a quote from
The Tempest
that chilled me: “Full fathom five thy father lies; of his bones are coral made; those are pearls that were his eyes: Nothing of him that doth fade, but doth suffer a sea-change into something rich and strange.” It made me think of the watery resting place of Ambrose's dad. My heart was heavy with the truth about my parents, but I was so grateful I still had them both. I turned the page, and Lila bounded through the gate without even knocking.

“Have you seen him today?”

“Who?” I asked, still thinking of my dad.

“Ambrose! Your ghost!”

I sat up, shaking my head. “Nope. But I've been resting all day. Plus, he's never been to the cottage.”

“Then we need to go find him. There's no time to waste.”

“I would've thought you'd be more interested in going back to the pinnace wreck,” I said.

“My mom and dad said we could check it out with the sonar, once the weather settles down. But maybe if we find your ghost friend, we can get information from him. That would be quicker than waiting for the archaeologists to brush the crud of four centuries off a shipwreck. Chop chop—get a move on! Aren't you leaving soon?”

We planned to go back to New York the next week, and I was basically on house arrest until then—Mom had decided to work from the cottage because she was too paranoid about leaving me home alone to get lost at sea or whatever. (Perhaps not paranoia, under the circumstances.)

“Yup. But I'm not allowed to go anywhere now. Grounded.”

Lila shook her head. “Unacceptable. I'll talk to your mother. Give me a second or two.” She dashed into the cottage, again without knocking. Minutes later, she and my mom came back.

“Nell, you can go with Lila—but I want you girls to stay together the whole time.” Hands on hips indicated Mom meant business. “Take my phone with you.” She handed it to me. “Call the cottage if
anything
happens.” The only thing that had survived my waterlogged bag was the silver cup, which Lila had brought home to her dad. “Please be home for dinner. Lila, your family is eating here tonight.”

“Great!” Lila grabbed my hand and tugged me up from my Adirondack chair. I still wasn't one hundred percent sure about this we're-acting-like-old-friends business, but she did kinda save my life yesterday. Also, it was nice to have a friend who was
living
. “Let's go!”

Lila had her bike, so I grabbed mine from the carport. Somebody had brought it back from the Elizabethan Gardens while I was sleeping.

“Where's Sir Walter?” I wasn't sure if I'd ever seen Lila without him.

“I left him at home. He slows me down on a bike.”

Made sense. “Where are we going?”

“To find Ambrose! You first saw him by the Festival Park, right?”

I nodded. “He probably hangs out there because he can be incognito thanks to the reenactors' costumes.”

Lila, forever an overachiever, pumped her legs furiously as she sailed down the quiet streets of Manteo. I trailed behind, biking extra slow partly because of my aches and general grogginess, and partly because I was frightened to find Ambrose. Knowing that the person I'd spent much of the summer with wasn't really a person was . . . bizarre. Did it undo the friendship I'd thought we had? What about how much I loved seeing his crazy mop of hair? Because if I was honest, being around Ambrose always gave me a few butterflies in my stomach, in that
maybe I'm developing a crush
kind of way.

Which begged the question: What kind of weirdo gets a crush on a
ghost 
? I had no idea how I was going to explain all this to Jade.

But I was also scared that we wouldn't find Ambrose. I didn't want him to be lost, at least not to me. All that time, he'd been hiding the real story—not just about who he was but also about this place. The colonists. Where they'd lived. Why they'd disappeared. I'd spent the better part of a summer traipsing around
with
one of history's greatest mysteries. It was enough to make my head start spinning again.