True Colors

“Unbelievable,” Mark said finally. “Get in the house, Cecilia. We’ll discuss this privately. And you,” he yelled at Noah, “you will never see her again, you understand me?”

“Daddy,” Cissy said, surging forward. “It was my idea. I talked him into it. Please, don’t—”

“In the house,” he said. “Now.”

“Mark,” Winona said, “certainly it was poor judgment, but—”

“Are you insane? Poor judgment is riding a bike without a helmet or skipping your class when you forgot about a test. This was dangerous and it’s his fault. Cissy,” he said firmly, “get in the house. And Noah, you can get the hell off my land.” He looked at Vivi Ann. “I’m sorry. Really. But I can’t let him endanger my daughter.” On that, he turned and walked into his big new house, herding his sobbing daughter in front of him. The door slammed shut behind him.

“Well,” Aurora said, “he was pleasant.”

“Shut up, Aurora,” Winona snapped. To Noah, she said, “What in the hell were you thinking? And how could you lie to me all summer? I trusted you. I told Mark Cissy was safe with you.”

“I would never hurt Cissy,” Noah answered stubbornly.

Vivi Ann recognized the look on his face: he was hunkering down emotionally, preparing to deflect every word hurled at him. Nothing said here and now would get past that armor. “Come on, Noah,” she said. “Let’s go home.”

She didn’t bother saying goodbye to her sisters, or even thank you. She was too drained, and too scared, to expend any more energy than was absolutely necessary. The worst part was how disappointed she felt, and how stupid.

“Say something,” Noah said in the car. “How come you aren’t yelling like Mark?”

“Would you rather I yelled at you?”

He shrugged. “Whatever.”

“Let’s not go there, okay? You know I hate it when you act like you don’t care. We both know that’s not really your problem.”

“No, it’s yours.”

“Another misfire, pal. This is not about me.” She turned off the highway and drove through Oyster Shores.

“So you love her, I guess,” Vivi Ann said a few minutes later.

Noah looked at her. “Are you going to make fun of me? Or tell me I’m too young to know what love is?”

“No.” She pulled up to the cottage and parked. “One thing about love is its recognizability. When you’re in love, you know it. No one else’s opinion matters. But Noah, this is something I learned the hard way: love doesn’t exist in a vacuum. Other people matter. And you just screwed the pooch, pal. You made your girlfriend’s father mistrust you. I don’t think he’ll let you see her now.”

“No one can keep us apart.”

“Okay, so now is when I’m going to tell you you’re young and make fun of you. If Cissy is the girl I think she is, she’s going to want to make her father proud of her.”

Noah looked desolate. “So what do I do?”

“First why don’t you tell me about today, then we’ll figure out tomorrow.”

“We wanted to see Dad.”

Even though Vivi Ann had expected those exact words, still they hit her like a slap. “Would he see you?”

“They wouldn’t let us go in. You have to be eighteen or have an adult with you.”

“Oh.”

“But I want to try again. I know he’ll want to see me.”

Vivi Ann heard every nuance of emotion in her son’s voice—bravado, fear, anger, and worst of all: hope. She hated to see Noah take that path, but how could she advise her child against hope?

“And I’m sorry about tonight. I should have told you about Cissy. It was just so cool to keep it to ourselves.”