Cape Evening (Credit: Steve Bossleman)
Now Playing: “Until I Drown” – Tears For Fears
Grantchester holds so much pain. With Allison back in town, mom’s absence feels more intense than ever. Everything in the last five years: college, the Warlocks, the Runaways, Jordan, almost feels like I’ve been killing time while delaying doing the things that I want to do. That road trip to Asbury Park to see a show at the Stone Pony keeps getting pushed off. I’ve been meaning to get down to New York for a few days just to go. Maybe see a few of the clubs my mom played back in the day. It’ll never be like it was, but it’ll be something.
I’ve often thought about running away to some big city, or the woods, or some other small coastal town and starting over completely. Then I remember that this place is where I scratched out the life I have now. The loved ones I have. The memories. This will always be home to me. And I’d fear running somewhere else would just be running from the things I’m too scared to face, and when they catch me, I will be alone.
And I’d miss out on big things, like Reilly getting married.
“Holy fuck, Reilly’s getting married,” Martin muses as he plops on the couch in my room in disbelief. Neither one of us could have anticipated my sister getting engaged, and my mom’s absence has been gnawing at me a bit more since she told me. Missing mom has to wait.
“How did Allison know about my mom being gone?”
Martin’s phone smacks the hardwood with a bang, and he sits up.
“What do you mean?” His wild eyes don’t convince me for a second.
“First of all, I told you to keep your feet off my god damn table. Second, I told her this afternoon and she knew my mom was missing. She tried to pretend otherwise, but she knew.”
“What are you talking about man?” Martin launches into a stammered, stuttering speech about how he had no clue. It’s admirable that he’s trying to cover, but I clearly caught him so off guard that it confirms my suspicions.
“How the fuck did you know she was back in town?”
Martin sighs. “I saw her. Yesterday afternoon, when I went with the girls to get snacks before the show. She was walking the other way on the other side of the street, and I thought I was just seeing things. I spotted her at the diner when she came over to talk to you after I got up. We met up later for a drink.”
I had thought it was odd last night when I texted Martin to play video games with me and he claimed he was out late on a Taco Bell run and would be back soon. However, I was too distracted with Allison being back to really pay it all that much mind. Getting food after we gorged at the diner should have been a flag in hindsight.
“You went for a drink without me?”
“I wanted to prime her about your mom. And Jordan.” The way he left Jordan’s name hanging after a moment of contemplation is suspicious.
“And?”
“That’s it dude.”
“And?”
“And I wanted to warn her to be careful with you.”
“Wish she would have heeded that when she tried to kiss me this afternoon.”
“Hold up, she tried to kiss you!?” Martin stands up and his eyes practically pop out of his head.
“Yeah. We went to Sentinel’s Point and had a picnic, just like the old days. Picked blackberries, danced a little, and then she admitted she wanted me to kiss her the night we partied on the beach and beat up the football players.”
“She wanted you to kiss her back in high school?”
“That’s what I said!”
“Hold on,” Martin runs back through my recollection of events, “Why were you and her dancing?”
Now my face feels like I’m performing a close inspection of an F-15 at full afterburner. I pull at the collar of my sweater a bit. It’s a good question. Why was I dancing with Allison? I don’t quite have an answer beyond, ‘it felt right at the time’ and somehow, I don’t think Martin will be all that wild about that answer.
“I don’t know man, it just felt like the right thing to do at that moment.” And yet I try it anyways.
“While you have a girlfriend?” If the disapproval in Martin’s voice was any more palpable, it’d be whacking me on the head repeatedly. Deservedly so. Either I can get defensive or admit he’s right. I hate admitting he’s right.
“Yeah,” I admit defeatedly, “But like, after she told me, I got pissed.”
“Got pissed? Tell me the whole story, without leaving out details this time.”
I oblige, and recount my entire day to Martin, starting with the early morning wake up after our late night. I then explain this morning, catching up with the Bartons, and then our plan to go out on a picnic. He gets annoyed when I divert into pontificating on the sweet moments of the day, and I know he’s right. I know he’s right. I wasn’t even remotely fair to Jordan, and I can’t even try to defend it.
Fuck. I’m such an asshole.
To add insult to injury, my girlfriend is calling me at this exact moment.
“Hey cutie, you busy tonight?” she’s cheerful and sweet when I pick up, sending my stomach into even more of a churn than it already was. I can’t bear to look at Martin, so I step over to the window and stare out at the shore. The ocean is mercifully calm, because if the universe had that kind of a sense of humor, I’d have quickly taken steps to aggressively make out with incoming traffic.
“Actually, I am. Sorry Jordan. My sister just got engaged, and we’re doing dinner at the house.” I opt for honesty being the best policy, despite Martin pressing his hands to the side of his head as if to hold himself back from verbally eviscerating me.
“Oh.” Her voice is small, and I can imagine the sunken expression on her face. I am such a prick. I didn’t know this was happening until this afternoon
“Yeah, I’m sorry. It happened last night, I didn’t know she was even engaged until like two hours ago, this was all so last minute.” A lie by omission is still a lie. And just a moment ago I was hyping myself up as an honest man. It’s not the real reason I don’t want her here. I don’t want her to meet Allison. Especially not while we’re fighting.
“That’s okay. Hope you have fun.” She does an admirable job selling it, but I know she’s disappointed. Another weight gets dropped on my shoulders, and my free hand clenches into a fist. I should not be dating her if I’m not going to be a good boyfriend. But do I really want to break up? I do like her.
“I promise I will make it up to you.” Don’t make a girl a promise if you know you can’t keep it.
“Actually,” her voice cheers up slightly, “My friends and I are going to the movies tomorrow. Come with us.”
“Tell me when and where.” I don’t hesitate, even for a second.
“Sounds like fun. Tell Reilly I said congratulations. See you tomorrow, handsome.” She seems legitimately happy at this development, which raises my spirits. This is all a big misunderstanding; I did nothing wrong.
“See you tomorrow, stunner,” I laugh slightly, warmed by her acceptance. My good mood is killed by Martin’s death glare.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Adams.”
I don’t get the chance to respond when the doorbell rings. The family is here. Martin and I agree to table the conversation and pick it back up at a later date. Tonight is about Reilly, and she’s basically his sister too. I do a last quick comb of my hair, still slightly wet from my shower, and then we head downstairs.
I’m always grateful to see my grandfather, Walter. I’ve always called him pappy. He’s got a tan light jacket, a dark colored collared shirt, and slacks on, plus the grey driving cap I always think of him wearing. Silver hair peaks out from under the hat, and gaunt face looks tired. I know he’s been struggling with getting older lately, so it’s nice to see some light in his sharp, green eyes because of why he’s here.
I greet him with a warm hug, and my grandmother, Clara, quickly follows. I used to think of her as being so tall, but as I’ve grown, she hasn’t. It always gives me a pause when I see her so much smaller than me, but the warmth in her smile and the sass in her greeting have never dimmed. My father is his mother’s son.
My uncle Ellis is the next inside. Ellis takes more after my grandfather. He’s tall, serious, and often distant. He went to school in Florida, got a job in banking and has stuck with it. He ended up moving home to be near his parents, but I feel like I hardly see him these days. Where dad dreamed of taking over the bakery since he was a kid, Ellis never wanted anything to do with it. Since my mom left, Ellis and my dad have drifted apart. My uncle never knew how to comfort his grieving brother, and my dad didn’t have the patience to put up with Ellis’ judgement. Ellis’ son, Andrew, follows right behind his dad.
“Hey man,” Martin greets Andrew warmly, and the two go off talking about cars. Andrew is cool, a couple years younger than I am. Sweet kid, slightly ditzy, but cool. He works at the family bakery and attends Bishop like many in the family. Can’t beat that in-state tuition, especially these days. I think Martin knew I’d have my hands full with all this, which is why he stayed when I told him the news: he’ll take Andrew’s attention so I can sit with my emotions.
“Your father tells me Allison came back,” pappy greets me while Ellis, Andrew, Martin, and my grandmother head into the living room to talk to Reilly.
“Yeah, got me thinking about other stuff,” I remain evasive about mom’s absence troubling me. Not that I don’t value my grandfather’s advice, but he doesn’t get it with this. He told me that my mother had to make her own decision to come back since she made her decision to leave. If I focused on doing something about it, I’d just make myself miserable. There are some things we cannot change even if we want to. Logically, I know he’s right. But that’s not just who I am.
“I think Allison coming back will be good for you. You haven’t been the same since she left.”
“You mean since mom left.”
“No, that summer, you were different after Allison packed up and headed west. You withdrew, were more solemn, less joyful. I’ve seen enough to know, and I think you know what I mean. Don’t waste your time looking for shooting stars when the moon is in your arms.”
I cannot tell if my grandfather doesn’t get my situation, or if I’m the one being stupid. He just gives me a smile and heads into the kitchen to help my father. Then comes a knocking on the door.
Now Playing: “Love, Try Not To Let Go” – Julia Jacklin
Allison Graves cleans up nicely. Boots, a candlelight yellow dress, soft skin, and immaculate hair. She’s a warm breeze of springtime in the autumn chill. For a moment, seeing her made my rage drop away. I don’t think I was truly mad at her, more shocked than anything else at the timing of it all.
“Can we talk?” She keeps her voice low out of respect, but even with her putting forth her best effort, I can tell earlier is still hanging over her a bit. Her anger from then has cooled to a bitter melancholy that plays itself out on her face. I’d give anything to take it away, despite being the one who put it there in the first place.
“Later, I promise. For now, I’m sorry for blowing my stack. I’m glad you’re back, let’s go celebrate my sister.”
She nods and we walk into the house. The living room is abuzz with everyone fawning over the ring and how cute Justin and Reilly are. Reilly has a lot of mom in her: tall, easygoing, smart as a tack, driven, with an ability to bend the world to her will. Reilly could have been a great many things in life, empress of the universe should she have so wished. She was content being a baker’s daughter and inheritor of the family business. The only big thing about Reilly from the rest of the family is her strawberry blonde hair.
Her adoring fiancée, Justin Stafford, is a different beast all together. He grew up in St. Louis but came here to attend Bishop on scholarship, which is where he met Reilly and fell in love with both her and Grantchester. He found a job as a remote worker for a software company, which he took to stay in town. He does not want to go back to the Midwest. He’s a good guy, if a little nerdy and awkward. He treats my sister well, and that’s all that counts.
“I do believe it is time for us to eat,” dad cuts in. Clearly, he knows the way of our family: food. We shuffle around the table, and I’m in the one corner next to Allison at the head of the table, and Martin on my other side. Dad and pappy set out the meal. We’re having a chicken in a lemon pepper white wine sauce served over tagliatelle pasta and a side of some vegetable that I’m not going to eat.
We serve quickly and start digging in. Reilly tells the story of the engagement, how Justin took her to their favorite restaurant last night, popped the question out on the patio with the band playing. He had been planning this with the restaurant for weeks.
“Damn, I forgot how much I missed your dad’s cooking,” Allison says to me in a low voice, with so as to not interrupt my sister’s recounting of last night’s events. With her mouth full, which makes me smile and shake my head before I even realize I’m doing it. Some things with her never change, and I love it.
“That means you’re hanging around to get more of it?”
“Oh, you know it, sugar.” She affects a bad southern accent, which takes all my strength and Martin’s not to burst out laughing. Martin’s mouth twists into a forced scowl. He wants to be mad at me and her both, but the glory of having our friendship back is just too overpowering to work against. I feel light. He feels happy. Allison seems to be more relaxed. Our conversation that we need to have can wait a bit.
“I know she said she wants to have a more formal engagement party to celebrate with everyone, so I promise you that I will be making a bigger speech that is more sappy and embarrassing then. I promise you that. But for now, while it’s just family,” my dad begins his speech, broadly gesturing but specifically including Martin and Allison in that gesture on the word ‘family.’ Allison lets slip a bashful little smile at that. “I just want to say that Reilly, you have grown up into an amazing young woman, and we are all very proud of you. Justin, you’ve been everything we” he catches himself, and the twinkle in dad’s eye darkens, “anyone could ask for from a son-in-law. You’ve been family for a long time, but now you can’t escape. Congratulations to you both!”
“Dad,” Reilly tries to protest, but much like the three of us, her smile gives away how she truly feels. She and I share a glance. We haven’t had the chance to talk just us, and I can see her happiness drop for a second while we share the same thought. We wish mom was here for this.
Justin gives a speech too, talking about how we all have made him feel so welcomed over the years, and treated him with grace and respect and love. I’m glad my sister has someone as sweet, and emotionally astute as him in her corner. I think he’s been more support than she realizes.
Dinner drags on for a while longer, with some tension settling in between Allison and I. The more we laugh together, the less this afternoon seems to matter. The occasional disapproving glance from Martin doesn’t change that at all. But it does annoy me that he’s trying to dump water on my parade.
As everyone begins cleaning up dinner, Reilly grabs me on my way back out from the kitchen to steal me away to the upstairs hallway for a moment to chat. Three guesses as to what she wants to talk about.
“Dude, Allison’s back!” she whispers, “how are you not flipping out right now?”
“We’ve seen each other a couple times. Last night, and then earlier today. Got all my reactions out then.” I’m intentionally vague and I hope I sell the idea that things are uneventful. Reilly taps her foot impatiently and cocks her head. She didn’t buy it.
“Yeah, I know when you’re hiding things. I remember all your bad grades from when we were kids, dude spill.”
I love that my sister calls me dude. She and Martin do it all the time, I think each of them does it because of the other. I don’t love that she’s pushing me for information on serious shit such as Allison in the middle of, well, the storm with Allison.
“Okay, so she came to the show last night, then ambushed me at the diner afterwards. No warning, had come back at the beginning of the week, just hanging out. Then I went over there this morning, we went for a picnic on Sentinel’s Point, picked blackberries, danced, almost kissed-”
“Almost kissed!?”
“Yeah, but like,” I sigh, take a deep breath, and resettle myself, “She said she wanted me to kiss her back in high school. I got pissed.”
“You got pissed!?” Her voice threatens to overpower the din of conversation downstairs.
“Keep it down, I don’t want her to hear.”
Reilly winces. “Sorry, Casey.”
I wave her off, as if to say it’s no big deal. “I got mad that she didn’t tell me this sooner, then shows back up without any advanced warning and claims she always had a crush on me, while I have a girlfriend. Who she knows about, because Martin met with her last night to warn her about Jordan. And mom.”
“Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeiiiiiiit,” Reilly says in a low voice. Doing her best approximation of Clay Davis from The Wire, which always threatens to make me crack because her voice cannot go very deep. I fight to keep my laughter to a low hiss. I silently thank her for making me feel a little better. “Which one are you feeling worse?”
“Mom.”
Reilly looks over my shoulder to a crooked family photo gathering dust hanging on the wall. She takes a deep breath, and turns back to me. “Yeah, my first thought last night was, ‘Ohmygod, I’m the happiest girl on earth!’ My second was, ‘fuck, mom’s not going to be here for any of this.’ It’s been eating at me too.”
Wordlessly, I pull Reilly into a tight hug. “I’m sorry she isn’t here for this. It’s not right.”
“No, it isn’t,” she whispers back.
“I love you, dude, and I’m so proud of you, and I’m happy for you. Now get back down there and go celebrate your engagement, I’ll be right behind you.”
“Thanks, Casey. I love you too. Tonight is what it is, but we will talk soon about all of this. Promise.”
Now Playing: “Signs” – Bloc Party
Reilly breaks the hug, gives me a sad smile, and heads back downstairs to her adoring fiancée. She’s putting on a brave face, but my sister is as broken up by mom’s disappearance as I am. I hate how all of this happens at once. I knew she’d want to talk about Allison coming back. It’s just not fair to take over her night. But if I didn’t end that conversation, I know she’d abandon herself to help me. Because that’s the kind of woman she is.
I make my own way back downstairs, avoiding the conversations springing up throughout the house. My footsteps are quiet enough to not attract any attention, but I hear through the wall that Reilly has gone back into happy mode. Her laugh is a little forced, but she’s trying not to let mom’s disappearance get to her that much. It’s admirable.
I’m not as forgiving. I find myself in a dark corner of the living room. How the fuck could mom be so goddamn stupid? So heartless? Missing your own daughter’s engagement is atrocious. I know there’s got to be a reason, but even trying to think of one that’s valid makes my fist clench in rage. A loud verbal tirade is only interrupted by my friends walking in, dropping their forced smiles from the evening as they do.
“Now can we talk?” Allison gestures for me and Martin to follow her out to the back porch. My back porch was less nice than Allison’s, but I doubt we’ll be sticking close to the houses at this point anyways. Martin and I accept, and sure enough, we’re away from the house and drawing nearer to the crashing of the waves. It seems to put Allison at ease the way it does for me.
“Okay, let me just start. Everybody knows everything. Martin knows you’re home, and I know he knows, and I know about the conversation you guys had,” I summarize our situation.
“You made a big deal of keeping it secret, huh?” Allison goes on the offensive against Martin.
“I beat it out of him,” I interject with another white lie. I cannot referee a war between the two of them right now.
“And you’re still holding it against me?” Allison turns on me, sparks of fury. The fury of a wounded animal. Anger, and fear, and a plea for mercy behind pained eyes even as the teeth are waiting to be bared in defiance.
“I need some time to process things. We will talk on this, but I cannot deal with it tonight,” I admit. It relaxes Allison a bit. I think I need some time to sort out where I fall on these things before I can address them properly. Martin looks ready to say something before I look at him and shake my head as if to tell him that now is not the right time. He gets the memo.
“Okay.” Allison gets quiet for a moment before smashing Martin in a giant hug. “I FUCKING MISSED YOU, DUDE!”
“I missed you too, Graves,” Martin hugs her back just as tight before waving to me. “Get in here, loser.”
A group hug with my two best friends frees my soul. The world is back on track, working the way it should for a while. There are still things hanging in my head that I need to deal with. For right now, I can live with just having a normal night like I haven’t had in ages.
Allison apologizes for her behavior at Sentinel’s Point earlier today. I apologize for not handling my emotions in a better way. Martin apologizes for being so harsh with her at first. And Allison apologizes for hiding her return for so long. I don’t bother to mark the apologies with anything more than the smallest of attention. Amongst the three of us, all is always forgiven. In Grantchester, you tend to pick your people early and stick with them for decades.
And we roll on, jumping back to high school anecdotes, the amusing stories which Martin and I have gotten up to in the years Allison was gone. She trades us stories of her time in Seattle, causing chaos with her college friends, pissing off her father, seeing the school from 10 Things I Hate About You, which is one of her favorite movies. I’m jealous; I always liked that movie too.
Another hour passes before Allison heads back to her own house, our respective hatchets buried deep enough to never menace us again. Or so it feels at this moment. I cannot promise my own irrationality won’t get the better of me again. But I feel lightened while I walk Martin around the front of my house to his car.
“So, man, overall, I’d say tonight was a great success,” I begin to bid him goodbye. A dour expression on my friend’s face curtails my farewell.
“I don’t know about great. You still have a lot to sort out regarding Ms. Summers. I told Allison to be careful with you, but you need to be careful with her too. You’re not off the hook for anything in your own head, extenuating circumstances or not.”
One of the things I have always loved about Martin is that he holds me to account when I need it. He’s right. I’m looking for an easy way out of the situation, and I’m not paying close enough attention to myself and my decisions. I promise him I will be better, and he bids me a warm good night before taking off in his hand-me-down, beat up, 2001 Honda Civic. How he’s kept that thing running for as long as it has beats me. Then again, I drive a pickup from the Bush administration. The George H.W. Bush administration.
Truth is, I know he’s right. Now that the immediacy of my joy has departed, Allison still pokes at my tender heart like a person picking at a scab. Tonight didn’t solve anything which needed to be solved, it merely affirmed that we’re able to pretend things are normal. Martin’s right. I still need to make a decision on my future with Jordan. I still need to evaluate where I stand with Allison. I still need to figure out my own head before I can make judgements on any of the other situations I’ve got going on.
Martin was absolutely correct with his insinuations that I pushed aside anger which I have a right to feel in the name of keeping the peace. Letting it bother me because I just don’t know how to stay pissed off at people right at in front of me. My rage only works against ghosts, shadows, and memories.
The house is much quieter without my family. I know Justin and Reilly will be talking to dad for a while, but I have had enough of a day being social today, and I need a respite. More than that, I need answers. To the question which has plagued me for five years. To the question which needs a resolution on a far less open-ended timetable as of last night. A ticking clock in the shape of a diamond ring.
The hinges on my old, heavy bedroom door squeal slightly as the door slides gently shut, with the reassuring clack of the doorknob finding its notch. My attention is turned to the ever-present but seldom noticed Revenge of the Jedi poster on my wall. It was one of the original run, before George Lucas changed the name of the film. I sigh and rub my tired eyes. I want nothing more than to flop back on the bed, but I know I won’t rest. Not until I go over everything. Again.
Gently, the poster comes off the wall. I’ve been staring at it since my parents got it for me as a birthday present when I turned eleven. I know every line, every line of Vader’s helmet, the way the colors of the clashing sabers contrast against each other in the corner.
Then I flip it over.
This poster has been hiding a secret of its own. On the reverse side is a board with every piece of information I’ve gathered on my mother’s whereabouts in the last five years. It’s a project I need to keep hidden. I don’t want my father to get false hope. I don’t want everyone to know that half the reason I was failing college is recorded right in front of me in a collection of photographs, town names, contact details, and questions. The map has tracked half a dozen locations over the span of her first two years after she left, but after that, it gets muddier. Only a couple of potential spots based on the occasional bit of information that made it to us back in Grantchester: a bill mistakenly mailed to the house, or a phone call which still thought they could find her here, or the whispered rumor of a townie who once knew her.
I don’t even know where to begin this round of searching. It’s all so uncertain, and I’m not exactly wild about doing this halfheartedly. Not when I can’t afford to screw around. There’s an uncertain deadline, but I don’t want to deprive Reilly of the normal mother-daughter time in the lead up to what should be the happiest day of her life. And I don’t want that to overshadow the reason for the occasion with something like this.
I’ll bring mom home for your wedding, Reilly. Promise.
Ark of the Lost Angels 
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