He met Jenny on the pier at Edgartown. For a time they sat together, silent, gazing at the sunlit water, the sailboats at mooring, the great houses surrounding the harbor.
“I came to tell you something important,” he finally said. “I know you had nothing to do with his death. I’m sorry for ever suggesting that you might have.”
Jenny turned to him, a deep sadness in her eyes. “It was because of what I did with him. The gift that keeps on giving.”
“No more, Jen. That was another life.”
Jenny drew a breath. “But we can never go back, can we?”
This simple question, Adam found, deepened his sadness. “No,” he answered. “We’re different people now.”
Jenny looked down, as though trying to decipher what that meant. “There’s something else,” Adam told her. “My mom and Carla Pacelli are settling his estate. Which means that your bequest is safe.” His tone was quiet but insistent. “Keep it, Jen. If not for him, for me. You’ve got all that talent. Take it as far as you can.” He took her hand. “I’ve also been thinking about your manuscript, and wondering if you should turn the page. My father’s posthumous reputation means nothing to me. But for your own sake, maybe you need to let him go.”
Jenny searched his face. “You still haven’t told Clarice, have you?”
“And never will. It would be no kindness to anyone.”
Slowly, Jenny nodded. “And you? What will you do now?”
“Go back to scenic Afghanistan, where simple farmers tend their poppies.” Seeing her anxiety, he added, “Only six months more, and then they’ll send me somewhere else. Wherever that is, I’ll keep in touch.”
Tears welled in Jenny’s eyes. “Will you?”
“I still care about you,” Adam assured her. “I always will. Whatever his motives in bringing me back, Ben helped me rediscover that. I wanted you to know that, too.”
She forced herself to smile. “But do I have to let you go?”
Gently, Adam kissed her. “Never. I’ll always need to know how you are.”
It was true. But in that moment Adam realized that the woman he was drawn to, more by instinct than by reason, was no longer Jenny Leigh.
Twelve
When Adam arrived home, no one was there.
Tiredly, he climbed the stairs, his thoughts jumbled, certain only that he had reached the end of his string. It was safe to sleep, he realized; this was not Afghanistan. Stripping to his shorts, he took a trazodone and fell into a darkness that, for once, was dreamless.
A knock on the door awakened him. He sat up, disoriented, unsure of where he was until he looked out the window. It must be morning, he realized; the sunlight was gentle, and dew glistened on the grass. And Benjamin Blaine was not his father.
“Adam,” his brother called. “Are you all right?”
They could be boys, Adam thought in his confusion, Teddy come to get him for an early morning sail. At once, the pieces of his new reality fell into place.
“Just tired,” he answered, and went to open the door.
Teddy looked at him, and then comprehension stole into his eyes. “You must have heard about Jack.”
“I have. A lot to take in, isn’t it?”
His brother closed the door behind him. Quietly, he asked, “Do you really think it was an accident?”
Adam shrugged, then wiped the sleep from his eyes and sat on the edge of his bed. “To me, the important thing is that you’re off the hook. So I guess I don’t much care. One way or the other, our father was a dead man. All Jack did is advance the date.”
Teddy sat in his brother’s desk chair, regarding Adam with deep curiosity. “Mind telling me what you had to do with all this? I’m already sure that you’re not who you say you are.”
Adam managed to laugh. “Who in this family is?”
Though Teddy smiled a little, his eyes were still grave. For a moment, Adam considered telling him that they were half brothers, and half cousins. But Teddy had always been his brother, and always would be. He thought of Carla, deciding that, for Adam, the truth was not hers to tell. It would do Teddy no good, he reasoned, to know that he was Ben’s only son, or that, despite this, his father had chosen to claim Adam as his own. And the burden of protecting Jack was Adam’s to bear, not Teddy’s. Some family secrets needed to be kept.
“Anyhow,” Adam said. “It’s done.”
“Not for me.” Leaning forward, Teddy regarded his brother with new intensity. “Ever since you got here, you’ve been looking out for me. How did you find out all the stuff about the police?”
Adam considered his answer. “As a favor to me, please be a little less curious about what I’ve been up to, and focus more on what our uncle did for you. He couldn’t stay quiet with you in trouble-”
“I understand,” Teddy interrupted. “Now tell me what you had to do with that.”
“Next to nothing. All Jack did was use me as a sounding board. So leave it there, all right? Just remember that there are few surprises in life as good as avoiding indictment.” Briefly, Adam smiled. “Or escaping homelessness.”
Teddy studied him. Then, at length, he nodded his assent. “Life feels different this morning, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, and no. You’re still my brother, and there’s no one in the world I love more. Now that our father is gone, it’s really just the two of us. That suits me just fine.”
“Me too.” Teddy glanced at Adam’s open suitcase. “Does that mean you’re leaving?”
“Yup. Frankly, I’m a little burned out. I hope our next reunion bores us all to death.”
Even as he said this, Adam wondered how coming back would feel. Lonely, he realized. The pathology of the Blaines would persist in all that Adam must conceal from Teddy, the person to whom he felt closest-that Ben was not Adam’s father, that their mother’s poise concealed tragedy and deceit, that ignorance of a murder separated Teddy from Adam and his parents. However deeply he wished otherwise, there was nothing Adam could do to change this. Whenever their family was together, Adam, like his mother and father, would become an actor in a play whose author was a dead man.
He could say none of this to Teddy. Instead, reaching out, he held his brother close, mutely apologizing for the silence that would always lie between them.
Suitcase in hand, Adam found his parents on the porch.
Lines of pain and weariness were etched in his mother’s face. Halfheartedly, she asked, “Do you really have to go?”
To his own surprise, Adam emitted a joyless laugh. Not unkindly, he said, “It’s not the time for party manners, Mother. There’s no etiquette for this one.”
Jack reached for his mother’s hand, a gesture meant to comfort. As their fingers intertwined, Clarice smiled wanly. “I suppose not.”
“So I’m off. I’ve done what I needed to do, and all of us need some distance from that.” He paused, looking from one parent to the other. “In a while, maybe this will seem better. But I’ve been too busy dealing with the consequences of what happened years ago to absorb how it’s affected me. Only time can help.”
Suddenly, Clarice fought back tears. “I’m sorry, Adam-for everything. Please know how much we love you.”
“And I love you.” Turning to Jack, he said, “I don’t know if I’ll ever stop seeing you as my uncle. Whatever comes to me, I suspect, will happen far away from here. There’s really nothing you can do.”
There was a brief silence, then both of his parents stood. Adam kissed his mother’s forehead, then gave Jack an awkward hug. “Will you be all right?” Adam asked him.
Jack gave him a wan smile. “So Avi tells me.” Except, Adam supposed, in his heart.
Saying good-bye, he picked up his suitcase and left, walking toward the taxi parked beside his father’s-his uncle’s-truck.
In time, Adam reflected, Clarice and Jack might marry. It depended on whether they could live with what
