The Secrets of Lake Road - Karen Katchur Page 0,89
sit down,” Gram said to Caroline.
“No, I want to stand.” She turned toward her mother.
“But you’re burning up,” Gram said.
She ignored Gram and stared at her mother. “Is Johnny named after Billy?”
Gram was the one who sat down. Her mother’s face paled, the dark shadows in the hollows of her cheeks growing darker, blacker, like the look in her eyes.
“Sit down, Caroline,” her mother said.
The tone of her mother’s voice normally would’ve made Caroline do whatever it was she was asking, but not this time. She crossed her arms. “Answer my question. Is Johnny named after Billy? His real father.”
Gram gasped.
“He is, isn’t he?” she asked her mother. She turned to Gram. “And you knew this entire time,” she said. “You were supposed to be on my side.”
“Oh, Caroline,” Gram said. “It’s not about taking sides.”
“It’s more complicated than that,” her mother said.
A small part of her couldn’t believe her mother wasn’t jumping all over her, shouting, Of course not! Johnny is your father’s son. But she wasn’t doing that, and something inside of Caroline shattered. She heard Pop’s saying again: Be careful what you wish for.
“Please, sit down,” her mother said. “Let’s talk about this calmly.”
“I can’t believe you.” Caroline stomped her foot like she used to do when she was three, throwing a tantrum whenever she didn’t get her way. “Gram?” she asked. “Is he or isn’t he my brother?”
“Of course he’s your brother,” Gram said, and glanced at Caroline’s mother.
Her head felt fuzzy and the room was spinning. She blinked several times to make it stop. She refused to pass out, not until she had heard the truth from her mother. She concentrated on standing upright. “So what, is he like my half-brother then?”
Gram stood and touched Caroline’s arms. “Honey, you don’t look so good. Come sit down.”
She threw Gram’s hands off of her. “No.” She had never lashed out at Gram—ever. She didn’t talk back to her or roll her eyes at her or push her away. But she wasn’t herself. She didn’t know who she was, uncomfortable in her own skin, her changing body.
Her mother slid from the bench seat of the picnic table, taking her time in a cool casual way, remaining in control no matter the circumstances.
It pissed Caroline off even more. Black spots raced across her vision. The angrier she got, the faster they darted past. “Answer me, Mom!” she shouted. “Why won’t you just answer the question?”
“I will when you calm down.” Her mother stepped toward her, reaching for her.
Caroline held her arms out, warning her not to come any closer. For a second the request struck her as funny. All the times she wanted her mother’s arms around her, comforting her, loving her. Right now she couldn’t stand the thought of her mother touching her.
“Is he or isn’t he Billy’s son?”
“Billy had a son?” Johnny asked.
Caroline whipped around to find Johnny standing in the doorway. She hadn’t known he was home. He must’ve still been sleeping. His hair was sticking up in the back and his long bangs were matted to his forehead. He was wearing boxer shorts. His chest was bare where two days ago there had been hair. He must’ve shaved his chest hair. It made his pectorals look more defined and his shoulders broader. He scratched his butt and reached for the refrigerator door, pulling it open.
Her mother hadn’t taken her eyes off Caroline. Gram stared at her mother. No one said anything. Johnny pulled out a jug of lake water and drank from the container without bothering to get a glass. When he finished, he looked at the three of them. “What?”
“Do you know who Billy is?” Caroline asked him.
“Of course. He’s Chris’s uncle who drowned when Mom and Dad were teenagers.”
Caroline was stunned. Everyone in her family knew who Billy was and what had happened and no one thought to tell her. Why were they keeping it a secret from her? Why didn’t Johnny ever tell her? Then again, she couldn’t expect Johnny to tell her anything. It’s not like he confided in her. She had assumed it was the four-year age difference, a brother/sister thing. But the circumstances had changed, and he knew only half of the story. She knew something he didn’t, and the power tasted good on her tongue.
“Tell him the rest,” Caroline said to her mother. “Go on. Tell him the truth.”
“Tell me what?” His chest rose and fell. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” her mother said. “Caroline is upset with me.”