The Truth About Tara by Darlene Gardner Page A

what my therapist said.” Her mother’s eyes dropped to the sand. “You didn’t know I’d seen one of those, did you now? If I hadn’t, we probably wouldn’t be living here.”
    “I don’t understand,” Tara said.
    “Didn’t you ever wonder why we live so close to the water when I hate it so?” her mother asked.
    “On occasion,” Tara admitted. Except for her yearly pilgrimage on the anniversary of the deaths, her mother hadn’t spent any time at the beach in years. She’d gone with Tara when she was a child, but only to the parts of the bay where the water was calmest. She’d stayed out of the water herself and had strict rules about how far Tara was allowed to venture into the water. She even stayed out of the pool, although she’d made sure Tara could swim.
    “I was still wallowing in grief a year later. My therapist said what I needed was a fresh start away from Charlotte,” her mother said. “A friend of mine invited us to come live with her in Wawpaney.”
    “I don’t remember anyone like that,” Tara said.
    “I’m not surprised. You were just a little thing when the bank where she worked transferred her—that was about six months after we got here,” her mother said. “I had some insurance money from your father. I used it to buy the house from her.”
    “Did you like it here right away?” Tara asked.
    “I didn’t like it one bit,” her mother said. “But you did. It’s a wholesome place to raise a child. And my therapist said I should face my fears if I was ever gonna be happy again.”
    “You’ve faced enough for today.” Tara stood, extended a hand to her mother and pulled her to her feet. She kept hold of her mother’s hand, leading the shorter woman away from the water, feeling more like the parent than the child. She thought of her mother coming to the beach year after year on the anniversary of the deaths, burdened by unnecessary guilt. “She doesn’t sound like she was a very good therapist.”
    “Oh, but she was.” Her mother walked with her shoulders stooped and head down. “She gave great advice. I just could never bring myself to take it.”
    Tara disliked the helpless feeling that swept over her. In an odd way, she understood why her mother relived the day over and over. Before her mother saw the tragedy unfold in her mind’s eye, she probably experienced a brief instant when she felt as though she could prevent it from happening. That was ridiculous, of course.
    Even if her mother could turn the clock back almost thirty years, she couldn’t stop fate from exacting its toll. Neither could Tara, who would have been only two years old at the time.
    A chill ran through her despite the rapidly rising temperature. Her mother had said on many occasions that she and her husband had saved up in order to take a family vacation. Yet when she revealed the details of the story, she’d made mention of only three family members.
    “Where was I?” Tara asked.
    “Pardon me?” Her mother reacted as though the question made no sense.
    “When it happened,” Tara said. “Where was I?”
    A look akin to panic entered her mother’s watery eyes. She stammered something unintelligible, then seemed to collect herself. “Why, you were back at the hotel.”
    Tara’s stomach muscles tightened. “Alone? You left a two-year-old alone in a hotel?”
    “Of course not.” The sun shone down on her mother’s pale face, illuminating lines Tara didn’t remember noticing. Her mother appeared more ravaged than she had when she was reliving the drownings. “You were...with somebody.”
    “Who?” Tara asked.
    Such a simple question, but it seemed to stump her mother. A long while passed as her mother stared back at her. Tara could almost see her rejecting the answers that occurred to her.
    “A friend of mine,” her mother finally answered, the words coming out in a rush. Her mother nodded, as though trying to convince herself the answer made sense. “We were on vacation with