Brynn glanced at the reflection of the baby mirror above Lucas’s car seat. He’d fallen asleep, and now she’d have to keep driving to let him get a full nap. Instead of turning onto upper Main Street to go downtown, she made her way to Katama Road, toward the left fork to South Beach and the turnoff to Norton Point. Though it was still early summer, Norton was already a zoo on most nice days because of its soft sand and big waves. At the very end of it, where the land became Chappaquiddick, the beach narrowed into a mesmerizing spit of sand reaching out into the sea. This was where Cecelia was found. The tip of the island. The beginning or the end, depending on how you looked at it.
Today, the entrance to Norton was closed off, and several police cars were parked in the lot. Brynn drove by slowly, hoping to see something, though she wasn’t sure what. The air was still and quiet, as if the ocean itself were in mourning. But when she turned right to continue onto the other side of South Beach, a sense of normalcy returned. Cars were lined up on the sides of the road and families schlepped boogie boards and coolers up the dunes to find a spot for themselves.
Sometimes, when Brynn drove around Edgartown, she felt like a visitor. Her whole life, she’d been an up-island girl. She didn’t spend her summers sunbathing at South Beach in a Lilly Pulitzer bikini or sneaking into the back door at the Wharf Pub wearing white jeans and seersucker blouses. She’d spent it in jean cutoff shorts, searching for treasures on Lucy Vincent Beach, years before it became too crowded, or having bonfires with friends on Quansoo Beach, to which someone always had a key and at least one bottle of vodka. Some Edgartown kids, like Ross and Sawyer, had never even set foot on Quansoo, or many of the up-island beaches where Brynn roamed as a child. That was a foreign world to them, just as this was to her, even though she was a Nelson now.
She never thought she’d marry someone whose family was the embodiment of Edgartown itself. When she and Ross decided to buy their house in West Tisbury, the threshold between down-island and up-island, it was a compromise. And the only reason Ross had agreed was because he wanted to flip the house and sell it for a profit someday. He’d always planned to raise his family in Edgartown. It was what was expected. Edgartown was the Nelsons’ home.
Brynn swung back through town, past the Stop & Shop and Donaroma’s, toward the Nelson & Sons office. Henry had bought the office building in the 1970s for next to nothing. It had once been a simple but beautiful colonial-style home, and Henry restored it into a pristine structure lined with lush hydrangeas and a tidy pea-stone driveway.
“Ugh,” she said as she looked at her reflection, once she’d pulled in and parked. She redid her bun, sniffing her armpit in the process, trying to recall the last time she showered. The day before yesterday? Whenever Margaux was over last. She rubbed some hand lotion she kept in her car onto her palms, and then onto her cheeks, trying to brighten her face.
She freed Lucas’s car seat and lugged him and his diaper bag with her into the office. The chill of the air-conditioning hit her as she walked in, and Lucas stirred. Loretta was now back at her desk, with a takeout bag from Among the Flowers on it. Brynn felt a pinch of embarrassment; Loretta hadn’t answered the phone because she’d gone out for lunch. That was all.
“Well, what do we have here!” Loretta exclaimed. Loretta hardly looked at Brynn at all, which Brynn was used to at this point. She instead immediately locked her gaze on Lucas. Lucas had this effect on almost everybody; it was like he hypnotized them. Brynn could be on fire, screaming for help, and no one would notice her if Lucas was there. She didn’t mind, though. Right now, she didn’t want any attention on herself.
“Can I?” Loretta asked, reaching for Lucas to pick him up. Loretta had five grandchildren herself, though all were off-island now, and Brynn knew how much she missed them. She lived for Lucas’s visits to the office.
“Of course,” Brynn said.
Lucas blinked and yawned as Loretta rocked him in her arms.
“You are just perfect, aren’t you?”
“So,” Brynn said. “Is Ross here? We were running errands nearby, and I just thought we’d pop in and say hi.”
“He’s in Henry’s office. Poor guys have been in there all morning. Henry’s quite sad. So terrible what happened to that girl,” she said.
Brynn tried to act calm. How could Loretta have already talked to Henry and Ross about Cecelia, but Ross hadn’t thought to call her yet? It wasn’t every day that someone they personally knew and cared about was found mysteriously dead. And this was a small island community—last week Ross called Brynn during the day just to tell her that he’d seen one of the moms from the birthing class they took buying a pack of cigarettes at the Edgartown Depot. As a couple, they shared their lives and observations with each other this way; to have not acknowledged this to each other yet felt purposeful and strange.
Loretta handed Lucas back to Brynn. “But I’m sure this will make their day. How could anyone be sad around this little bundle of joy?”
Brynn knocked on the office door. She couldn’t make out what they were actually saying, but she could hear Ross and Henry talking. Then, the room went silent and Ross swung the door open. Henry sat at his desk, jotting down notes on his notepad, something he always had with him. Ross’s face was pale. But he lit up when he saw Brynn and Lucas, as though he had pushed a button somewhere inside of him telling him what to do: smile.
“Hi, honey,” he said. “This is a surprise.”
“Brynn. And my grandson!” Henry rose from his desk. It was obvious that Henry was sad, even though he was glad to see Lucas. He was hunched over, and his face drooped down in distress. He looked like he hadn’t slept the night before. He took Lucas from Brynn’s arms to hold him.
Even though Henry was tall and lanky, like Sawyer, with a commanding presence and a firm handshake, there was a softness to him, too, that Brynn had always loved. He was easy to talk to, easy to laugh with, just easy to be around. Brynn knew that Henry had another side to him that only his sons really saw—the mentor, the tough negotiator, the demanding boss who wanted things done yesterday even if they were assigned today. But Brynn didn’t see this side herself, she only heard about it from Ross. The Henry she and Lucas got was sweet and supportive, albeit old-fashioned and stubborn.
Brynn waited. She waited for Ross to acknowledge his text to her. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore.
“Can we talk?” she asked Ross. “I got your text.”
“I can’t right now,” Ross said. “Just … just trust me.”
“Is this about Cecelia?” Brynn whispered.
“What? No,” Ross said. “It’s … I’ll explain at home.”
“So sad about Cecelia, isn’t it?” Henry chimed in. His eyes were wet, staring adoringly at Lucas. “It’s just really unthinkable.”
Brynn felt like the floor beneath her feet was shifting. The air in the office felt thick with secrets, as if she had entered the room midconversation and wasn’t meant to be there.
“I know you two were close,” she said to Henry, being careful not to say something that might upset him or be taken the wrong way. “I know how much you cared about her. I’m just so sorry.”
Henry rocked Lucas. “We’re setting up a fund,” he continued. “The club is. For whatever the family needs. They’re flying in today. We’re putting them up at a member’s home at Seven Gates, someone who’s away in Jackson Hole. While everything gets sorted out.”
The family. She wondered if Cecelia’s family would be looking at the club to take responsibility. For exposing their daughter to a culture of excess and debauchery, tucked neatly away beneath a façade of good manners, cobblestone driveways, and freshly pressed polo shirts.
“She had big plans, you know,” Henry continued. “She was like you, Brynn. Smart. Ambitious.”
That was the first time Brynn had ever heard Henry describe her—Brynn—that way. It was the first time she’d ever heard him describe her in any way, really. Henry and Margaux had never acknowledged her career as a writer with much admiration. She always felt that they were embarrassed that she wrote romance novels, not the kind of books that they discussed in the library of the Oyster Watcha Club. She once heard Henry tell someone that Ross’s wife wrote “chick lit,” and even though she’d used the term herself before, proudly, with the self-awareness that her mostly female readers were the most voracious and discerning readers in the world, she knew that Henry hadn’t been using the term positively.
“And I heard that the club is closed, to mourn her. Right?” Brynn asked.
Henry looked up. “Not exactly,” he said. “It’s closed because Mauricio has gone missing. No one can reach him.”
“Wait, what?” Brynn felt her stomach twist. Mauricio had two teenage sons and a wife who worked at the Edgartown Public Library. He’d been at the club for almost two decades. “What do you mean no one can find him?”
“We don’t know,” said Ross. “Just that suddenly no one can get ahold of him. Even his wife doesn’t know where he is. So, obviously, people are worried. Or suspicious. Or both.”
“Oh my God,” said Brynn. This must have been what Ross had tried to tell her but couldn’t over text. It was too sensitive.
“But Pete tells me that they’re going to find him. This is their priority,” Henry said.
Brynn wondered if Pete had already questioned his own son about last night. Where was he, anyway?
“Well, we should go,” Brynn said. “Lucas has his pediatrician appointment soon.”
“I’ll walk you out.” Ross followed her out the office door, after she said goodbye to Henry and let him give Lucas one last kiss.
On the front steps of the office, Brynn suddenly burst into tears. She couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“Brynn, come here,” Ross said. He took Lucas in his car seat and set him on the ground. He wrapped his arms around her. “I … We should talk.”
“Can you come with us to the pediatrician appointment?” She didn’t know why she felt so helpless, so in need of Ross to just take care of her and tell her that everything would be okay.
“I … Brynn, I wish I could, but there’s something really important I need to deal with here. I can’t explain it here right now. But I wanted to tell you because…”
“Because what, Ross?” Brynn snapped. She wiped her eyes. Her whole body felt so tired, so burned out. “I can’t do this.”
“Do what?” Ross asked.
“This!” she said, pointing to Lucas. “I can’t be a mother! It’s too much. It’s too hard.” Brynn hadn’t planned to have this outburst, especially not right now, not with the news of Cecelia’s death, not with whatever Ross was trying to tell her. But she couldn’t contain herself; she was in too much pain. She was too tired. She was too overwhelmed. She’d reached her breaking point on today of all days. Her words made her feel sick with guilt. But in that moment, they felt like the truth, and she had to say them out loud.
She knew what Ross must be thinking: that she was a disappointment. Again. That he’d married someone who wasn’t equipped to be a mother. That she was nothing like his own beloved mother. She’d let him down. She’d let everyone down.
“Listen, Brynn,” Ross said, holding her shoulders. “You are doing an amazing job. And I’m going to do better. I haven’t been there for you. Or for Lucas. And I’m sorry. I really am.”
Brynn nodded. “I knew that this would be hard,” she said, “but I just didn’t know it would be this hard. I don’t feel like myself. I’m not happy. I should feel happy right now, right?”
“I don’t know,” Ross said. “I don’t know what you’re supposed to feel. But I know that I want you to be happy. And I will do whatever I can to help you feel happy.”
Brynn didn’t want to cry again, so she looked away.
“You know, sometimes I miss when it was just the two of us,” Ross said.
Brynn looked up at him.
“Really?”
“Of course,” he said. “We had the best time. We had total freedom. It was awesome. This is awesome, too, but it’s different. It’s hard right now.”
Brynn felt instant relief and the shame she’d been harboring started to slip away.
“But then,” he said, “I look at Lucas, and I just think … wow. I’m the luckiest man in the world. I mean, look at our son. He’s perfect. We made him. I just get … overwhelmed with love, you know? I know things are hard, but we’re lucky, right? We have amazing lives. We have this perfect family.”
Brynn ached with guilt. Of course she knew how lucky they were as a family. But that knowledge still couldn’t change how rotten she felt inside; how alienated she felt from Ross when he looked at Lucas with so much love that his heart practically swelled out of his chest. Ross had something inside of him that she lacked, something that allowed his heart to open to his son without force, without hesitation, and without condition. From the moment Ross had met Lucas, it had been clear that he’d love him forever, with ferocity and devotion. And the clearer Ross’s love for Lucas was, the more shame Brynn felt that she did not share that love. She couldn’t be honest with Ross, not anymore. If she told him the truth, all of his doubts about her would be confirmed.
“We should ask my mom to help more,” Ross said. “If you want, I mean. Or maybe I can do bath every night. Whatever.”
Brynn nodded. What she needed was something so much bigger than Ross could give her. It wasn’t just about a lack of time in the day to get things done that she needed to do—like write her book. It was about finding the person she’d lost when Lucas was born: herself.
“Pretty wild that we made him, right?” Ross said, looking down at Lucas.
“It is, it really is,” she said. She opened her mouth to say more, to say how she really felt, but once again, she couldn’t. She looked at Ross gazing at Lucas, and it made her heart hurt with longing—the longing that someday she might feel the same way.
And then Ross’s expression changed.
Instantly, Brynn knew something was very, very wrong.
Two police cars approached. They pulled into the Nelson & Sons driveway.
Ross looked at Brynn with a sudden urgency in his eyes. His face grew serious.
“Brynn,” he said. “Listen to me. I know why the police are here. I … There’s not a lot of time. But you have to believe me. Please. This is what I wanted to tell you.”
Brynn was stunned, paralyzed. She couldn’t say anything. Was this a joke?
“It’s my dad,” Ross said, moving closer to Brynn’s face, whispering. “They’ve come for him. It’s the business. I’ve been trying to change things for years now. I couldn’t tell you because I couldn’t get you involved. It was too dangerous. I didn’t want you to know anything and be liable. Please. I’ve been trying to turn him around, to turn it all around. That’s why I’ve been so absent. There’s a lot I need to explain. And I knew that it all might come out publicly today. I wanted to warn you.”
“Ross, what do you mean the business? What is going on? What does this have to do with Cecelia?” Brynn had picked up Lucas’s car seat and her knuckles were white she was holding it so tightly.
“Cecelia? What? This has nothing to do with her. I … It must just be a coincidence with timing that they’ve finally nailed my dad today. Brynn, he’s been doing illegal things with the business for a long time now. Bad things,” Ross said. “I couldn’t tell you, Brynn, but I was going to. You have to believe me.”
Brynn was stunned. The Nelsons weren’t perfect, but they were certainly not rulebreakers. Everything in their lives was meticulous, both at home and at work. Everyone kept lists, everyone was on time, everyone’s affairs were always in order. Well, except for Sawyer, but the most trouble he ever got into was when the manager of the Lookout Tavern scolded him for lighting up a joint on the outdoor deck.
“It’s all going to be fine,” Ross added. “I promise.”
They both watched as the Edgartown police chief, Pete Hammers, and several officers stepped out of the cruisers.
“Please, trust me,” he said. “Like I said, I can explain everything.” Somehow, Ross seemed calm. He seemed like he’d been expecting this and was prepared.
“Ross,” Pete said. “I wish I wasn’t here under these circumstances.” He sighed. Ross nodded.
The door opened, and Henry came out.
“Pete, what’s going on?” he asked, though Henry didn’t really look surprised either.
Pete didn’t say anything for a moment. He stood next to Ross on the porch. His uniform was a bright blue and looked especially crisp, as if it had just been ironed. “Ross Nelson,” he said suddenly, turning toward Ross instead of Henry. “We have a warrant for your arrest.” He paused. “For the murder of Cecelia Buckley.”
“What? What are you talking about? Murder? You’re here for me?” Ross blurted. Brynn knew that his shock and surprise were real. She couldn’t explain it, but she just knew.
“Pete, what the hell is going on here?” Henry wedged himself between Ross and Pete. “You’re accusing my son of murder?” The two older men stared at each other as if they were waiting for the other one to break. But neither said more.
Ross leaned in toward Brynn just then and whispered.
“Brynn, listen. I didn’t do this. But I think I know why this is happening. I need you to find the orange sun. It will tell you everything. Please. The orange sun. Don’t talk to anyone else. Don’t trust … anyone. Especially not my dad.”
“What about Mauricio?” Henry yelled at Pete. “Don’t you think that’s worth looking into?” But Pete didn’t acknowledge it. His face gave away nothing.
Brynn felt a tingling sensation in her feet and hands, and a heaviness in her chest. Her breaths shortened. Sometimes, Brynn tried to look at catastrophes in her life as fodder for her writing. She could turn a real-life fender bender into a fictional meet-cute, or an actual missed flight into an opening-chapter one-night stand. It was a technique she used to stay positive in her life when things went wrong. But this was different. She couldn’t even process what was happening around her. It didn’t seem real.
The orange sun? She stared at Ross with blank eyes, completely lost, and her mind spun. An officer came up behind Ross and placed his hands into cuffs. He didn’t object.
Brynn watched, frozen, as Ross was marched down into one of the cars. Henry screamed at Pete. She could see the veins in Henry’s neck and forehead bulging out. She could see spit spraying out of his mouth. His anger was visceral. But Brynn felt nothing. It was as though she were watching a movie. She had left her body and was looking down at some performance, some kind of charade.
She wondered then if everything she knew up until now had been a lie. She wrote stories for a living—of all people, shouldn’t she have been able to see a twist like this coming? If Ross was guilty of something, shouldn’t she have predicted it somewhere along the way? Weren’t there signs? She shut her eyes for a moment, wishing that when she opened them, her world would go back to normal, and she’d realize that this had all been a bad dream. But she opened her eyes and Ross was still gone.
If Brynn hadn’t been in the eye of the storm before, she was in it now.