Meet Me By The Dock

Chapter 32

"Hey this is Issac, speak if you must," a beep sounded at the other end of the line.

"Hey Issac, it's me Lilah— obviously," I take a shaking breath in and don't even know how to start. "Uhm, I kissed Matthew Remington, my neighbor— just now, like ten minutes ago actually. I'm kind of freaking out though and I don't really know what to do... my mom told everyone about my dad," I suck in a sharp breath and try to stop the tears from falling. "Yeah, she told everyone and I really don't know what to do, I can't be mad, right? I mean, she has the right, it's just that we agreed that it would stay in Maine and that this summer would be different, a good different." I look out the window and lean my hip against the side of the couch, "but now everything is the same as the town we left, it feels like she's brought a big dark cloud and dragged it over the whole lake by sharing this." I blink the tears out of my eyes, the more I think of it the more my heart sinks in my chest. "Uhm," my voice shakes and I know it's time to end my rambling voicemail before I start crying, "so yeah, that's all I have to report now, I'll figure it out, okay, bye."

I hit the red hang up button on my phone and drag in a breath. Everything I've been trying to shove down all summer is now threatening to overflow. Everything I've been avoiding has now been shoved in my face.

I take a quivering breath in and when I exhale it breaks into a sob. I cover my face with my hands, it's too much. It's all too much. Now that everyone knows, they will all have their own opinions and think things of us that probably aren't true. They're going to think we are a charity case that needs saving. They're going to think we're a broken family— which I suppose we are. They're going to look at us with sympathy in their eyes like, oh look at those poor Grace girls, without a father and a husband what are they ever going to do?

I curl into a ball against the wall in my living room. I wrap my arms around my legs. I pick a spot on the carpet in front of me and stare blankly at it. Everyone knows. They all know. By this point they have to all know.

I tilt my head back against the wall and blow out a breath slowly. I feel sick. My heart feels heavy in my chest, it's dragging me down. I want to crawl out of this hole but the pressure is too much.

It was so easy —too easy— to walk through life without anyone feeling pity for me. I was okay with keeping it all inside if it meant that I avoided the mess of other people's feelings.

I hear the front door crack open and I stumble to my feet. I wipe the tears off my face and attempt to pull myself together.

"Lilah?" My mom asks in the foyer.

"Living room," I call out in a shaking voice.

When she walks through the doorway she takes in my face and rushes in front of me. "What's wrong? What's the matter? How are you feeling?" She asks. How am I feeling? Oh right, I told her I was sick.

"I'm not sick mom." I say, my voice gets tight with tears.

Her brows furrow, "What do you mean?"

"I— I talked to a woman at the barbecue."

Her face falls immediately, "honey..."

"Why did you tell them, mom?" I ask in a pathetic voice.

Her mask broke and all of the emotions appeared on her face. Now I realize that when I said we were supposed to leave our pain behind, we didn't. It's always been here, right in front of us.

"I didn't want to—" her sentence breaks off and she looks at the ceiling, as if to hold back tears. "All of the girls started talking about their husbands and they all looked at me and started asking me questions, what's his name? Does he golf? When's your anniversary?" Her voice shakes and my vision blurs, "and I just broke— I told them the story. They must have told all of their friends— god I feel so stupid."