I could only give them a name. Cooper Douglas. I know he killed my daughter, and one day I’m going to make him pay.
Three
Madison
We’re off to join Coop’s family for Sunday brunch. I know little about my in-laws. Coop’s father died a few years back, and I’ve never met his siblings. His mother, Josephine, visited Atlanta once; she insisted on buying dinner to celebrate our engagement. Seeing her again feels different now that I’m one of them. On their turf. The water thinning their bloodline.
Coop describes his family as close-knit, yet he made the conscious choice to separate them from our relationship. When we lived together in the city, he never suggested I accompany him on his visits to Whisper Falls. He’s kept me at a distance; moving here bridges that gap. As we make the short drive to Josephine’s house, I sense Coop’s nervousness rising. He’s quiet, with a tight grip on the wheel.
“Are you okay?” I ask, after several minutes of silence.
Coop exhales and forces a smile. “I don’t know what I’m so worried about. I know they’re going to love you.” He squeezes my knee. “I suppose I’m adjusting to the idea of living here again.”
I’m also adjusting, still reeling from the move and the life we’ve left behind. “What do they know about me?”
“All good things. They know you’re a journalist. Born and raised in the city.” He laughs. “They know you make me happy.”
I smile, fiddling with the ring around my finger. Suddenly, I feel a pang of sadness, like I’m some ragamuffin the Douglas family is rescuing. I wish I had someone other than Coop with whom I could share this new life, although, truthfully, I’ve been on my own longer than I’d like to admit. I don’t have a relationship with my parents or anyone from my childhood. Beth and Matt, my closest friends, are back in the city.
“Here we are,” Coop says, stopping the car outside a black gate. He rolls down the window and punches a code into the security system. The gates open, leading us down a twisty drive lined with more trees.
“Wow.” I knew his family had money, but I wasn’t quite expecting this.
“A dramatic entrance, eh?” There’s a hint of embarrassment in his voice. Not many people can relate to his family’s level of wealth. I wonder what that does to a person, coming from so much? It must make one guarded with everyone. Friends. Schoolmates. Lovers.
“It’s beautiful,” I say, trying to hide the shock in my voice. In the distance, the sun hovers over a large body of water. It seems to have appeared out of nowhere, hidden behind the greenery of the massive landscape. “Is that a lake?”
“The back end of the house overlooks Whisper Lake. You’ll see more as we get closer.”
Suddenly, I remember Celia, and it’s like this ghost from his past is sitting in the car with us. Whisper Lake is beautiful, but I know the murky currents hold secrets. They hold danger.
We take a sharp turn, and now the Douglas manor is in full view. As we pull closer, it becomes larger. It’s two-stories, but wide, easily spanning six thousand square feet. Dark wooden beams hoist a large balcony on the second floor. Coop parks our car beside a circular fountain at the front. We both sit in silence, staring at the massive house.
“Are you ready?” he asks.
I nod, too intimidated to speak. I can’t shake the feeling I’ve entered into a world meant for someone else.
We don’t knock. Coop uses a key to unlock the front door. Somehow, that simple action makes this place feel real. Like it’s part ours. I can’t believe Coop, the same person who shared my one-bedroom apartment, calls this his childhood home.
“We’re here,” Coop calls out. His voice echoes. Echoes throughout the large space. There’s a grand staircase ascending from where we stand. Coop walks forward, and I follow him, trying to appear at ease. Like I belong. I’m hoping his family won’t realize within minutes that I don’t.
Coop leads me through several rooms until we reach two French doors. He pushes them open, and we walk onto the back deck. There’s a dining table there, already covered with a white linen cloth and multi-colored chrysanthemums. Josephine is standing there tampering with the centerpiece. She turns.
“Finally, you’re home,” she says, holding out her arms to hug Coop. He bends down and embraces her.
“It’s good to be back.” Coop releases his mother and straightens his posture, placing his hand on my lower back. “You remember Madison.”
“Of course.” She gives me a hug. “Lovely to see you again.”
“I love your outfit,” I say to Josephine, sensing my jersey dress is informal brunch attire. She’s wearing a bright red skirt and blazer, a pearl broach fastened to her left lapel. Unlike Coop’s golden mane, she has dark curls that stop at her chin. There are soft lines around the corners of her mouth and eyes.
“I always dress up on Sundays,” she says, sitting at the head of the table. “You and Cooper should consider joining us at church.”
“Don’t start,” Coop says, taking a seat.
“Have I said something wrong?” Josephine leans back with both hands in the air. She looks at me. “Are you religious, Madison?”
“Yes.” I skid my chair closer to the table as I sit. “I’ve not been a member at a specific church in a while, though.”
“Sounds like that should change,” she says, unfurling a napkin. “First Presbyterian has a wonderful congregation. I’m sure you’ll fit right in.”
“We can find our own church,” Coop says, failing to mask his annoyance.
“Sure you can. I just think it would be nice to have someone join me besides Roman. It’s not like Regina will go.”
The back door opens, and a slender young woman walks out carrying a tray. She’s wearing a cream turtleneck, and her straight hair almost reaches her waist. Her mane is darker than her mother’s, though. It’s intentionally dyed black, which only heightens the alabaster hue of her skin.
“My little heathen joins us at last,” Josephine says, pouring lemonade into her glass.
“I brought food at least.” Regina places the tray in the middle of the table. “This one is a chicken pot pie, and I’ve got a vegetable pie in the kitchen.”
“A heathen and a tree-hugger.” Josephine wears a sardonic smile.
Regina pretends to curtsy, then faces me. She looks me up and down, and I can’t help wondering if she’s comparing me to previous girlfriends she’s met before. “You must be Madison.”
I smile, swallowing down my nervousness. Something about the look on Regina’s face makes me feel like a consolation prize. “It’s great to finally meet you. Coop’s told me all about his family.”
“I’m sure.” Regina rolls her eyes, then shoots a look in Coop’s direction. “Where’s Roman? Won’t he be joining?”
“He had some errands to run,” Josephine says, inspecting the pie in front of her. “Regina is our personal chef of sorts. She owns Nectar, the best restaurant in town.”
Coop stands and cuts three slices. He serves Josephine, me, then himself. Regina walks into the kitchen, returning with a plate of vegetable pie. For several minutes, there’s silence as everyone eats.