Wake (Watersong Novels) (5 page)

When Lexi knocked on the window next to Gemma, they yelped in surprise. Gemma glanced back at Harper, as if unsure what to do.

“Roll down the window,” Harper said hurriedly, and Gemma complied. She leaned forward and forced a smile at Lexi. “Sorry about that. We didn’t see you there.”

“It’s no problem.” Lexi smiled broadly, oblivious to the rain pouring down her blond hair. “We were just looking for directions.”

“Directions?” Harper asked.

“Yeah, we got a little lost, and we wanted to go back to the bay.” Lexi leaned her slender arms on the car and looked down at Gemma. “You know how to get down to the bay, don’t you? We always see you there.”

“Uh, yeah.” Gemma pointed straight ahead of them. “Just go three blocks down, then make a right onto Seaside Avenue. That’ll take you right there.”

“Thanks,” Lexi said. “Will you be down at the bay tonight?”

“No,” Gemma and Harper said in unison, and Gemma shot her sister a look before going on, “It’s no fun to swim in all this rain.”

“Why not? The water’s still wet.” Lexi laughed at her own joke, but Gemma didn’t say anything. “Oh, well. I’m sure we’ll be seeing you around anyway. We’ll keep an eye out for you.”

She winked at Gemma, then straightened up and stepped back from the car. Gemma rolled up the window, but Penn and Thea were slow to move out from in front of the car. For a moment Harper was afraid that she’d have to throw her car in reverse to get away from them.

When they finally stepped out of the way, Harper had to fight the urge to floor it away from them. Instead she offered them a small wave, but Gemma stayed rigid in her seat, refusing to acknowledge the girls.

“That was bizarre,” Harper said as they drove away and her heart began to slow.

“And creepy,” Gemma added. When Harper didn’t say anything, Gemma glared over at her. “Oh, come on. You have to admit that it was creepy. Why else wouldn’t you have offered them a ride home?”

Harper gripped the steering wheel and floundered for an excuse. “They seemed to enjoy the water.”

“Whatever.” Gemma rolled her eyes. “They came out of nowhere. You saw that! They were behind us, and then suddenly they were in front of us. They’re, like … supernatural.”

“They took a shortcut,” Harper argued lamely as she pulled into the driveway next to her father’s beat-up Ford F-150.

“Harper!” Gemma groaned. “Can you stop being logical for a second and admit that those girls give you the creeps?”

“There’s nothing to admit,” Harper lied. She turned off the engine and changed the subject. “Are you going to have Dad look at your car?”

“Tomorrow, when it’s not raining.” Gemma grabbed her gym bag from the backseat. She hopped out of the car and ran into the house, and Harper hurried behind her.

As soon as they’d pulled in the driveway, Harper had had the strangest feeling that they were being followed, and she couldn’t shake it.

When she went inside, she locked the front door behind her, and listened to Gemma and Brian chat about the day.

The house already smelled like pizza, thanks to Brian’s homemade sauce. But despite the cozy atmosphere, Harper couldn’t help herself. She peered through the peephole in the door and scanned the street around them, but saw nothing. It took about fifteen minutes for her to settle into being home, and she still couldn’t convince herself that they weren’t being watched.

FOUR

Mother

“Sorry, honey, but this is an all-day project,” Brian said with his head under the hood of Gemma’s Chevy. Black—presumably oil or other car fluids—smudged his arms and stained his old work shirt.

“I understand,” Harper said. She hadn’t expected a different answer from him, but that didn’t stop her from asking. “Maybe another time.”

Brian didn’t look up at her. All his attention seemed to be focused on the engine, but he always managed to find something to occupy his time on Saturdays so he wouldn’t have to go with Harper and Gemma.

“Okay.” Harper sighed and twisted her own car keys in her hand. “I guess we’ll get going, then.”

The screen door slammed, and Harper glanced back at Gemma, who’d just stepped outside. Gemma wore dark oversized sunglasses, but her lips were pressed into a thin line, so Harper knew she was glaring at their father.

“He’s not coming, is he?” Gemma asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Not today,” Harper said gently, trying to calm her sister.

“Sorry, babe.” Brian pulled his head out from under the hood and gestured to the bright sun shining overhead. “I want to get this looked at while the weather holds.”

“Whatever,” Gemma scoffed and stalked off to Harper’s car.

“Gemma!” Harper called after her, but Gemma just shook her head.

“Let her go,” Brian told Harper.

Gemma got in the car, slamming the door loudly. Harper knew she was upset, and she even understood it, but that didn’t mean Gemma should act so rude.

“Sorry, Dad.” Harper smiled wanly at him. “She’s…” She waved her hands in the air, unsure exactly how to describe Gemma.

“No, it’s okay.” Brian squinted up at the sun for a moment, then turned back to the car. He had a wrench in one of his hands, and he tapped it absently against the car. “She’s right. I know it, and you know it. But I…”

He didn’t say anything, and his shoulders slacked. His expression tightened, hardening as he tried to hold his emotions in. Harper hated to see her father like that and wished she could say something to make it better.

“I understand, Dad,” Harper insisted. “I really do.” She reached out, touching him on the shoulder, before being interrupted by the loud blast of her car horn.

“She’s waiting for us, Harper!” Gemma shouted from the car.

“Sorry.” Harper stepped backward, going to her car. “I gotta go. We’ll be back later.”

“Take your time,” Brian said. He bent over the engine, keeping his back to Harper. “Have fun.”

Harper wanted to say more to her dad, but with the way Gemma was acting, she didn’t want to push it. Gemma was impatient to begin with, but when she was upset on top of that, she could be downright impossible.

“You are so rude,” Harper said as soon as she got in the car.

“
I’m
rude?” Gemma asked in disbelief. “I’m not the one who’s bailing out on Mom.”

“Shh!” Harper started the car and turned on the stereo, hoping to drown out Gemma so Brian couldn’t hear. “He’s staying back to work on
your
car.”

“No, he’s not.” Gemma shook her head. She leaned back in the seat, her arms crossed firmly over her chest. “He could work on my car any other day. He’s staying back the same reason he stays back every Saturday.”

“You don’t know what this is like for him.”

As they pulled away from the house, Harper looked up in her rearview mirror. Brian was standing in the driveway, appearing uncharacteristically lost.

“And he doesn’t know what it’s like for us,” Gemma countered. “The point is that it is hard for all of us, but we make it work.”

“Everybody deals with things in their own way,” Harper said. “We can’t force him to visit her. I don’t even know why it’s bothering you so much today. It’s been over a year since he’s seen her.”

“I don’t know,” Gemma admitted. “Sometimes it just gets to me. Maybe today it was because he was using
me
as an excuse not to see Mom.”

“You mean because he’s fixing your car?”

“Yeah.”

“She’ll still be happy to see us.” Harper glanced over at Gemma and tried to smile at her, but Gemma was staring out the window. “It doesn’t matter if anybody else comes or not. We’re doing the best we can by her, and she knows it.”

Every Saturday that the weather permitted, Harper and Gemma made the twenty-minute drive to the group home up in Briar Ridge. It was the closest group home specializing in traumatic brain injury, and that was where their mother had lived for the past seven years.

One day nine years ago, Nathalie had been driving Harper to a pizza party when a drunk driver sideswiped them. Harper had been left with a long scar running down her thigh, but her mother had ended up in a coma for nearly six months.

Harper had been convinced she would die, but Gemma had never given up hope. When Nathalie finally came out of it, she barely remembered how to speak or do basic self-care. She stayed in the hospital for a long time, relearning how to do everything. Over time, some of her memories came back.

But she was never quite the same. Her motor skills were very poor, and her ability to remember and reason were drastically impaired. Nathalie had always been caring and loving, but after the accident, she struggled to empathize with anyone.

After a brief but chaotic stint keeping her at home, Brian eventually had to move Nathalie into the group home.

From the outside, the home looked like an ordinary rambler. It was nice without being overly so, and even on the inside it wasn’t that different. Nathalie shared the home with two other roommates, and the home had twenty-four-hour staffing.

As soon as Harper pulled into the driveway, Nathalie burst out the front door, running toward them. That was a good sign. Sometimes when they came she would just sit in her room, crying quietly the entire time.

“My girls are here!” Nathalie clapped her hands together, barely containing herself as they got out of the car. “I told them you were coming today!”

Nathalie threw her arms around Harper, squeezing her so tightly it hurt. When Gemma came around the car, Nathalie pulled her into the embrace, holding them uncomfortably close.

“I’m so glad my girls are here,” Nathalie murmured. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you.”

“We’re glad to see you, too,” Gemma said, once she’d pulled herself free from Nathalie’s hug. “But we were here just last week.”

“Were you really?” Nathalie narrowed her eyes and looked over the girls, as if she didn’t quite believe them.

“Yes, we visit you every Saturday,” Harper reminded her.

Nathalie’s brow furrowed in confusion, and Harper held her breath, wondering if she’d done the right thing by correcting her mom. When she was confused or frustrated, Nathalie’s temper had a tendency to get the best of her.

“You look really nice today,” Gemma said, rushing to change the subject.

“Do I?” Nathalie looked down at her Justin Bieber T-shirt and smiled. “I do love Justin.”

While Harper had taken more after their father, Gemma had gotten her looks from Nathalie. She was slender and beautiful, looking more like a model than a mother. She kept her brown hair long, covering the scars etched on her scalp from the accident. A few locks had been put in narrow braids, and a strand in her bangs had been strung with hot pink beads.

“You both look so good!” Nathalie admired her daughters and touched Gemma’s bare arm. “You’re so tan! How do you get so tan?”

“I spend a lot of time in the water,” Gemma said.

“Right, right, right.” Nathalie closed her eyes and rubbed her temple. “You’re a swimmer.”

“I am.” Gemma smiled and nodded, proud of her mother for remembering something she’d told her a thousand times before.

“Well, come in!” Nathalie erased the pained expression from her face and gestured toward the house. “I told them you were coming today, so they let me make cookies! We should eat them while they’re still warm.”

She looped her arm around Gemma’s shoulders, walking with her into the house. The staff greeted them, and by now they knew more about Gemma’s and Harper’s lives than Nathalie did.

Not that Nathalie didn’t try to learn about her daughters. She just couldn’t remember.

Nathalie claimed she’d made the cookies, but the Chips Ahoy! wrapper sat right next to the plate that she’d dumped them on. She did that a lot, for reasons Harper didn’t completely understand. Nathalie would lie about little things, making claims that Harper and Gemma knew weren’t true.

At first they’d called her on it. Harper would calmly explain why they knew it wasn’t true, but Nathalie would get irate when caught in a lie. She’d once thrown a glass at Gemma. It missed her but had shattered against the wall and cut Gemma’s ankle.

So now they simply smiled and ate the cookies when Nathalie talked about how she’d made them. She grabbed the plate of cookies and led the girls back to her bedroom.

“It’s so much better in here,” Nathalie said, shutting the door behind them. “Without people watching over us.”

Nathalie sat back on her narrow twin bed, and Gemma sat next to her. Harper stayed standing, never feeling quite comfortable in her mother’s room.

Posters covered the wall—mostly of Justin Bieber, Nathalie’s current favorite—but there was also a poster for the last Harry Potter movie and one of a puppy cuddling with a duck. Stuffed animals littered the bed, and the clothes overflowing the hamper had more color and glitter than the average adult wardrobe.

“Do you guys want to listen to music?” Nathalie asked. Before either of them could answer, she jumped off the bed and went over to her stereo. “I just got some new CDs. What do you like to listen to? I have everything.”

“Whatever you want is fine,” Gemma said. “We came here to visit you.”

“You guys can pick something.” Nathalie smiled, but there was something sad about it. “They won’t let me listen to it too loud, but we can still listen to it softly.”

“Justin Bieber?” Harper suggested, not because she wanted to hear it, but because she knew it was something Nathalie would have.

“He’s the best, isn’t he?” Nathalie actually squealed when she hit play and music came out of the speakers.

She hopped on the bed next to Gemma, making the cookies bounce off the plate. Gemma picked them up, arranging them the same way her mother had had them, but Nathalie didn’t even notice.

“So, Mom, how are things going?” Harper asked.

“Same old.” Nathalie shrugged. “I wish I lived with you guys.”

“I know,” Harper said. “But you know it’s best for you here.”

“Maybe you can come visit,” Gemma said. It was an offer she’d been making for years, but Nathalie hadn’t been home in a very long time.

“I don’t want to visit.” She pouted, sticking out her bottom lip and pulling at the hem of her T-shirt. “I bet you guys have fun all the time. Nobody ever tells you what to do.”