“Looking forward to it,” he said. “But be warned, I know all the lyrics to all their songs, and I’m not afraid to belt ’em out.”
“You can’t scare me.”
“So don’t go running to Aidan with your hands over your ears.”
“Very funny.”
A few more kisses—to hell with the Funsicle—and then the minivan was rattling down the drive. And even after Sebastian was gone, his good spirits stayed with me. A night out listening to music with people my age, away from Skylark, with no Milo, no Isa, no Connie and definitely no pills to mess me up. If I could just hold on to the hope of this weekend, I could push through this next thing that I had to do.
TWENTY-TWO
“Isa,” I called as I came back around the house to find that she’d returned to the pool with a fresh pitcher of lemonade, and now, glass in hand, was sunning herself on the lounge chair. “What’re you up to today?”
She cocked her head. “Milo said he’d hang out with me when he gets home from golf.”
I sat, swinging my legs over the edge of the pool. “Or—how about come with me off the island to visit someone?”
“Off Bly? Connie won’t like that. Not at all.” She stood, stretched and knelt by the pool to drag in the raft. Then she belly-flopped onto it, holding me captive waiting for her answer as she flipped over and used her foot to push off the side and spin herself in a languid circle. “She was always accusing Jessie of taking me off the island.” Isa raised an eyebrow at me, letting me be the judge of what she wasn’t admitting.
“Right. I was hoping we could keep this private.” I looked up at the house. Mrs. Hubbard is definitely spying, Sebastian had said. And now that Sebastian was gone, this fact got under my skin. “So how about I’ll just tell her we’re going to Green Hill? Sound good?”
Isa considered this. “I’ll wear my jean skirt that Connie says is too short, okay?”
“You drive a hard bargain. Deal.”
“Deal.” Isa had slipped her heart-shaped pink sunglasses back over her eyes, but I didn’t need to peer into them to feel confident that she wouldn’t sabotage me. And Connie could be relentless. Poking for specifics, and then she’d want me to do this favor and pick up that thing, and her lisping requests would be a nagging footnote to the trip.
Isa beat me into the house. She was dressed and ready in minutes.
No meds today, obviously. I couldn’t drive the precious cargo of Isa with so much as a single antihistamine washing through my blood. Even though the muscles of my lower back cricked and my heart was beating so fast that at every mile marker, I had to actively resist the urge to wheel the car around and beat a full retreat.
I wasn’t even sure I’d do it until the last minute, the final turnoff for the ferry.
“Weeee!” Isa shouted into the breeze.
“We,” I agreed, less enthused.
It was expensive to transport the car on the ferry, so I’d brought all my money with me. Once we’d crossed, I used some of it to settle my doubts, taking Isa to a family-style restaurant with laminated menus and a juice glass of crayons on the table. Loading her up on chicken fingers and fries and hinting that maybe we’d make another stop at the Dairy Queen after Pendleton.
“Who’re we visiting, again?” Isa asked as she used a fry to wipe up the bloody dregs from her ketchup puddle.
“A friend of my mom’s, who’s sick. She’s staying in a kind of a nursing-home situation,” I answered, working through my story out loud.
“An old lady?”
“I guess so.”
“Some old ladies are sweet, but a lot of old ladies are mean and boring.”
“It’s a quick visit. Cross my heart.”
“If she’s the second category, I’ll put my finger on my nose, which is code for don’t make me talk to her.”
“I’m not even sure she’s there.”
“Like this.”
“I get the signal, Isa. Loud and clear.”
We climbed back into the car. Isa slept, mouth wide open and peaceful—nice to see, considering all her fitful nights at Skylark. She didn’t stir until we’d turned off at the exit and the outlying sweep of fields came into view.
There was nothing strange or scary about Pendleton. Nothing institutional or even like a British boarding school. But as soon as we pulled in through the harp-shaped gates and I began to follow the signs to parking, Isa snapped awake as if something had stuck her. “Oh no.” She began to shake her head.
“Oh no, what?” My heart skipped a beat.
“Oh no, we’re not stopping here, are we?” Worriedly, she jerked around her seat. “This is the loony bin.”
“I don’t think so. It’s more of a health facility.”
“You’re wrong—it’s where the crazies live. I don’t get it. Pete’s mom is your mom’s friend?”
Here it was. First confirmation that a Katherine Quint was in residence here. I just hadn’t figured on it coming from Isa. I attempted to sound relaxed. “So I take it you’ve been to Pendleton before?”
“A couple of times, with Pete and Jess. But, Jamie, you don’t want to go anywhere near here. You really don’t.” Isa’s hand was clenched around the door handle.
“Please, Isa? It’s just for a few minutes.”
“You lied, didn’t you? Pete’s mom isn’t friends with your mom. She’s a loony. She’s not friends with anybody. Why do you want to see her, Jamie? Why, really?”
“Because she has something I need. Isa, stop looking at me like that. Give me twenty minutes, and then I’ll do anything—I’ll buy you two Blizzards from Dairy Queen, both your picks, and you can give me the one you don’t like as much.”
“Ten minutes,” said Isa, wary but resigned.
We parked around back and got out of the car. Isa glared at the building. “Connie would be mad if she knew you were taking me here. She got really angry at Jessie about it. It makes my stomach hurt, doing all these same things with you that I did with her.”
“I’m sorry, Isa. Like I said, we’ll be quick.” Though my own mind was a whirligig as we began to walk toward the glass lobby doors. “You’re very chill to put up with me.” But I felt terrible, even as I had to ask her, “And would you please, please, please not tell Connie about this trip?”