Josh stares at Lucas’s hand hovering above the drawing. His eyes widen. For a split second she tenses, ready to put him at ease. But he slides his palm into Lucas’s, surprising them both. Josh lifts his eyes, Lily’s eyes. He smiles. Lily’s smile.
Her chest tightens along with her throat as she realizes how much she’s missed Lily. Has she always felt this way? Did she bury her longing so she didn’t have to acknowledge that Lily’s departure left a hole in her heart, despite her betrayal?
Lucas’s cheeks inflate before he expels a loud breath. Her gaze meets his and she knows he sees the similarity, too. He pulls out a chair and sits. “He looks like her.” Then as if remembering Josh has ears, he redirects his comment to their nephew. “You look like your mom.”
Josh’s mouth turns down. His fingertip nudges a pencil.
“I’m her brother. Let me show you.” Lucas extends his leg and tugs his wallet from a deep front pocket. He opens the wallet and skims his thumb over bills, a foil condom (Really, Luc?), and receipts until his thumbnail snags on a photo. He shows Josh the picture.
Curious, Olivia peeks at it. A younger version of her, Lucas, and Lily stand on their dock, the wind whipping their hair, the bay’s gray water in the backdrop. It’s the last photo of the three of them, taken with their dad’s Nikon. Charlotte gifted him photography lessons one year for his birthday and he took that camera everywhere. At the time of that photo, Olivia had come home for Christmas break. Lucas had already moved into the apartment above the garage and looked as apathetic as ever with his scowl. He and Dwight were not getting along since Dwight hadn’t hired an adequate defense to keep Lucas out of jail like his friends. Olivia didn’t know. Lucas wouldn’t tell her. Lily is the only one smiling, like she has a secret. Olivia knows exactly what her secret was. She was sleeping with Ethan behind her back, and she is sure Lily was pregnant with Josh in the photo and had yet to realize. Lily ran away from home four months later. Olivia tore up her copy of the photo two weeks after that.
“You still have this?” she asks, amazed Lucas has been carrying it all this time. How sentimental, and so unlike him, given how he feels about their family. They look so young in the picture, back when everything had started to implode. Lucas had returned home after serving time for shoplifting. Their father had to cancel his third campaign for Congress because of the bad press. And Lily was on her way to becoming a statistic as a teenage mom.
“Yep. Here.” He gives the photo to Josh. Lucas points to each of them. “That’s your aunt Olivia, me, and your mom. You look like her, same chin and eyes.”
Josh looks at the picture for a long time before returning the photo. “Where?” he asks, looking at her expectantly.
“That was taken at your grandparents’ house, where your mom grew up.”
“No, where?”
“Seaside Cove, about ten miles from here.” Olivia points west.
“Where?” Josh says with more force.
“Do you mean where is your mom?” She looks at Lucas. “We’re hoping you can tell us.”
Lucas slides the image into his wallet and tucks it back into his pocket. “Is she coming to get you?”
Josh’s face is blank.
“Did she send you here?”
He shakes his head. Olivia and Lucas share a look. “So, she doesn’t know you’re here?”
He shrugs.
“Where did she go?” Lucas asks.
“Gone,” Josh says.
Lucas’s brows lift. “Gone where?”
Josh tugs his lip.
“Where’d she go?”
“Gone,” Josh repeats.
“Yeah, but where?”
“Gone . . . gone. Gone!” He wipes his arms in front of him.
Olivia grasps the chair and whispers, “He thinks she’s dead.” His eyes shine with fear, and her body tingles with it. Why would he have tried to give her Lily’s number last night if he knows she’s not alive to answer her phone?
“We don’t know that.” Lucas glances at her. “Did she leave you?” he asks Josh.
“Gone,” Josh shouts. He shoves the table and unexpectedly stands. Empty dishes from lunch rattle and pencils roll to the floor. He shoulders his backpack and stomps from the kitchen. The front door slams.
“Where’s he going?” Olivia moves quickly. Lucas follows. They run to the living room window. “Thank god.” He’s still here. He drops onto the bottom porch step and buries his face in his hands.