Confessions. Lisa Jackson
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THE NEXT TIME she saw Hayden was at the lake on Sunday afternoon. Nadine and Ben had taken the small motorboat that Ben had bought doing odd jobs for neighbors to the public boat launch. They spent the afternoon swimming, waterskiing and sunbathing on the beach near the old bait-and-tackle shop on the south side of the lake.
Several kids from school joined them and sat on blankets spread on the rocky beach while drinking soda and listening to the radio.
To avoid a burn, Nadine tossed a white blouse over her one-piece suit and knotted the hem of the blouse under her breasts. She waited for her turn skiing and watched the boats cutting through the smooth water of the lake.
From the corner of her eye she saw Patty Osgood and her brother, Tim, arrive. Patty carried an old blanket and beach basket. A cooler swung from Tim’s hand.
“I didn’t think we’d make it!” Patty admitted as she plopped next to Nadine and began fiddling with the dial of the radio.
“I wonder how she escaped,” Mary Beth Carter whispered into Nadine’s ear. “I thought Reverend Osgood preached that ‘Sunday is a day of rest.’”
“Maybe he thinks hanging out at the beach is resting,” Nadine replied. Though she and Mary Beth were friends, they weren’t all that close. Mary Beth had an ear for gossip and an eye for the social ladder at school. She was already trying to break into the clique with Laura Chandler, and as soon as she was accepted by Laura, a cheerleader, and Laura’s crowd, Mary Beth would probably leave her other friends in her dust.
Patty found a soft rock station and, humming along to an Olivia Newton-John song, began to smooth suntan oil onto her skin. “Your brother here?” she asked innocently, and Nadine bristled inside. Lately she’d had the feeling that Patty was interested in Ben, and had been searching out Nadine’s company just to get close to her brother.
Patty tucked her straight blond hair into a ponytail and took off her blouse to reveal a pink halter top that, Nadine was sure, would have given the Reverend Osgood the shock of his life.
“He’s in the boat,” Nadine said, though she suspected that Patty, already scanning the lake, knew precisely where Ben was.
Her pretty lips curved into a smile at the sight of Ben’s little launch. “Umm. I wonder if he’d give me a ride.”
“Probably.” Nadine turned her attention to the water. The day was hot and sunlight glinted on the shifting surface of Whitefire Lake. Several rowboats drifted lazily, as fishermen tried to lure rainbow trout onto their lines. Other, more powerful motorboats, sliced through the water, dragging skiers and creating huge wakes that rippled toward the shore.
A candy-apple-red speedboat careened through the water at a furious pace. Nadine’s breath caught in her throat. Hayden was at the helm. Her throat closed in upon itself and she tried to ignore the funny little catch in her heartbeat as she watched him.
Wrapping her arms around her knees and staring at the red boat as it streaked by in a blur, Mary Beth clucked her tongue. “So he’s back this summer.” Her eyes narrowed a fraction. “I thought he’d never show his face around here again.”
“His family comes back every year,” Nadine pointed out, wondering why, once again, she felt the need to defend him.
“I know. But after last summer, I thought he’d stay away.” Mary Beth and Patty exchanged glances.
“Why?” Nadine asked, nudging a rock with her toe.
“Oh, you know. Because of Trish,” Patty said with an air of nonchalance.
“Trish?”
“Trish London,” Mary Beth hissed, as if saying a dirty word. “You remember. She left school last year.”
“She moved to Portland to live with her sister,” Nadine said, trying to decipher the silent code between the two girls. Trish London was a girl who was known to be fast and easy with the boys, a girl always on the edge of serious trouble, but Nadine had never heard Trish’s name linked with Hayden’s. In fact, she was certain that most of the rumors about Trish were gross exaggerations from boys who bragged about sexual deeds they’d only dreamed about. The rumor with Hayden was probably nothing more than malicious gossip.
“You mean you don’t know why she left?” Patty asked innocently, though her eyes seemed to glimmer with spiteful glee.
Nadine’s guts twisted and she wanted to hold her tongue, but she couldn’t suppress her curiosity. “I never thought about it.”
“She was pregnant!” Mary Beth said, lifting her chin a fraction. “She went to Portland to have the baby and give it up for adoption without anyone from around here knowing about it.”
“But—”
“And the baby was Hayden Monroe’s,” Patty insisted, a cruel little smile playing upon her lips.
“How do you know?”
“Everybody knows! Hayden’s father caught him with Trish in the boathouse last summer. Garreth was furious that his son was with a girl from the wrong side of the tracks and he shipped Hayden back to San Francisco so fast, he didn’t even have time to say goodbye to her. Not that he probably wanted to. Anyway, a few weeks later, Trish moved to Portland. Very quick. Without a word to anyone. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what happened.” One of Patty’s blond eyebrows rose over the top of her sunglasses.
Nadine wasn’t convinced. “Just because they were together doesn’t mean that—”
Patty waved off her argument while glancing at her reflection in a hand mirror. Frowning slightly, she reached into her beach bag and dragged out a lipstick tube. “Of course it doesn’t mean that he’s the father. But Tim knows Hayden’s cousins, Roy and Brian. The Fitzpatrick boys told Tim that old man Monroe put up a ton of money to keep Trish’s family from talking.”
“Roy and Brian Fitzpatrick aren’t exactly paragons of virtue themselves,” Nadine pointed out.
“Believe what you want to, Nadine. But the story’s true,” Mary Beth added with a self-righteous smile. “And it doesn’t surprise me about Trish. She’s following in her mother’s footsteps and everyone in town knows about Eve London!”
Nadine’s stomach turned over. Eve London had earned a reputation as the town whore. With three ex-husbands and several live-in lovers, she’d often been the talk of the town. Trish had grown up in her mother’s murky shadow.
Patty touched the corner of her lips where she’d smeared a little lipstick. “But that’s old news. I heard that Hayden’s about to get engaged to some rich girl from San Francisco. I wonder what she would say if she found out about Trish.”
“She’ll never know,” Mary Beth predicted.
Patty lifted a shoulder. “She’s supposed to come and