All the Summers In Between by Brooke Lea Foster

Author:Brooke Lea Foster
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gallery Books
Published: 2024-06-04T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

July 1977

The first thing Thea did when she got up in the morning after sinking the boat was take another shower. At midnight last night, Thea had picked up Penny, groveling an apology to Dale for the late hour, and then she’d driven home with a battered Margot hidden under a blanket in the back seat. Pulling into the driveway, her headlights flashed across Felix’s car. He was home? He’d only left that morning, and he was supposed to stay in the city for the duration of the week. Thea thought she might cry.

Felix’s mother used to say that her son slept so deep that a burglar could roll out a television, record player, and multiple pieces of furniture, and Felix wouldn’t wake up—“It’s been true since the day he was born,” she’d muse. It was certainly true now, as Thea found him sound asleep in an armchair in the living room, a novel called The Shining open on his chest. She tiptoed upstairs—avoiding the creaks in the boards, no need to test his mother’s theory—and tucked Penny into her twin bed so she could hurry back down and help Margot get from the car to the barn. Margot could walk, but she was afraid to move her arm too much since a shooting pain traveled up it when she changed positions. She’d also refused to go to the hospital, and Thea was too tired to argue with her, bringing her aspirin and cringing when Margot lowered herself on the couch, wincing with pain. It was one in the morning when Thea finally stepped into the shower, delirious and cold, her body shedding sand into the running water.

Thea left Felix snoring softly in the armchair—it would be easier if he wasn’t looking for her in bed—and then she had slowly gotten under the coverlet with Penny. Thea marveled at the smell of baby powder on her daughter’s neck, the warm and rhythmic breathing of Penny’s sturdy chest, feeling incredible wonder that she was alive. That she was home, that nothing could hurt her here.

And yet her mind paced with how much worse it might have gone. How Margot might have died out there. How they both could have. She tried to sleep, willing the muscles in her back to relax, but she heard the same line on a loop: you’ve been so incredibly stupid.

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