The Deep Blue Sea for Beginners by Luanne Rice Page B

was young?”
    “Yes,” Lyra said. “I know how hard that must have been for him. But David did his best; he certainly made sure Rafe had everything he needed.”
    “He had his own Miss Miller?”
    “He had a governess, yes. But David loved him. He would bring Rafe here each summer, and they’d spend a month together. I’d see them swimming and boating, playing on the beach, picking up shells, identifying sea creatures. Max and Christina would dote on Rafe … he was such a sweet young boy.”
    Pell stood up, walked across the terrace. Lyra watched her look down at the beach. She knew Rafe was down there, scouring the rocks as he always did.
    “I feel bad for him,” Pell said.
    “He was being selfish,” Lyra said. “Not looking after someone so vulnerable.”
    “I’m sure he’s punishing himself now,” Pell said. “Is that why he spends all his time alone?”
    “I wouldn’t give him that much credit,” Lyra said, and Pell shot her a look.
    “People suffer, Mom,” Pell said. “They stay alone, they sleepwalk, there are lots of ways.”
    Lyra sensed her daughter’s great heart, but she wanted to set her straight. “Pell, I found Christina after she fell,” Lyra said.
    “That must have been terrible,” Pell said.
    Lyra nodded. “She was a wonderful woman. So strong when I first knew her, but by then, so frail and dependent. Max was completely devoted to her, never left her alone. He had stepped out for just a short while; he left Rafe with her, thinking he could trust him.”
    “What did Rafe say happened?”
    Lyra stared at Pell. “What does it matter? It’s what he did, and didn’t do, that counts.”
    The day had been clear and bright. Lyra had been standing right here, on the terrace. She’d heard a cry; at first she’d thought it was a seagull. But the crying continued, and she ran in search of the sound. She found Christina crumpled on the ground.
    “I ran to her,” Lyra said. “I wanted to pick her up, carry her back upstairs. She was in a lot of pain.”
    “But you couldn’t?”
    “They took her to the hospital.”
    “How long had she been sick?” Pell asked. “Before she fell?”
    “Three years,” Lyra said.
    “Sometimes you can’t hold on to a person,” Pell said. “No matter how much you want to.”
    “I wasn’t ready to lose her,” Lyra said.
    “I wasn’t ready to lose you,” Pell said, and Lyra saw her trembling.
    “Pell, I’m so sorry.”
    “I hated when you left,” Pell said. “I know you were depressed, but we loved you. We could have helped you.”
    “Oh, Pell,” Lyra said.
    “I’ve never forgotten what Dad told us—that ‘the grownups decided.’ You, your doctors, Grandmother, who? Why did you let them decide your life— our lives—that way?”
    Lyra felt Pell’s eyes on her, waiting for answers. She stiffened, looking away; she wanted Pell to stop. From the time she’d known Pell was coming, she’d dreaded this conversation.
    “You won’t talk about it,” Pell said.
    “It’s in the past. You’re here now,” Lyra said.
    “I’d like to understand what happened,” Pell said. “Can you imagine what it was like for us—for Dad—to have you leave? He had to do everything.”
    “Pell, your father was incredibly good. He put up with a lot, my illness. I know they’ve told you that I was depressed.”
    “They didn’t have to. I saw,” Pell said. “I remember what it was like.”
    Lyra took that in: so Pell did recall. “I’m sorry, Pell. I wish you didn’t.”
    No answer to that. Pell just stared.
    “You were six,” Lyra said. “I wasn’t sure what you saw and knew. But it took me over, wiped me out. I felt as if a tidal wave had hit me. Everything in me destroyed. I loved you and Lucy, and your father. I wanted to be strong again. So I had to go away and build myself back up.”
    “That’s what the hospital was for,” Pell said. “You went to McLean, and came home, and you were fine.”
    “I wasn’t fine,” she