Page 24 of The Library on Plum Island
No matter how much trouble Alex was in or how daunting the situation was, he’d always tell them the truth. It always paid off because the one thing Alex was always sure of in life was the support of his family, especially his parents and, in this last situation, his father. While his father quietly investigated things in the background to the rest of the world and Alex’s family, he was on Plum Island with his wings cut, or he’d be cut off. A ruse to appease the people Alex’s father was investigating. The pang of guilt sliced through him once again when he thought of the parallels between his and Daniella’s lives.
“If anything happens between us, I make a promise to myself here and now that I’ll tell her the truth about our first meeting,“ Alex made a promise to the breaking day as the morning light continued to weave its golden threads across the sky.
The sea below crashed onto the rocks as if sealing Alex’s promise in stone. Still, guilt sliced through his heart, and he stubbornly pushed it aside as his conscience warned him:The truth may bring pain to either party, but it builds a stronger foundation to build on than the shaky uncertainty of a lie.
“We don’t have anything to build on yet.” Alex sipped his juice.
His solitude was interrupted when Harriet stepped onto the balcony, her surprise at finding him up and about so early evident in her raised eyebrows.
“Well, look what the morning dragged out here. I thought you’d be holed up in your room for another day at least,” she remarked, a glass of juice in her hand.
Alex gave her a wry smile. “I think I’ve slept enough to last me through the winter. Besides,” he gestured towards the horizon, “I didn’t want to miss this.”
Harriet sighed, glancing out over the tapestry of colors from the early morning light sparkling across the glittering sea. The fresh, early morning sea breeze wafted over her.
“I know.” She glanced at him, setting her glass on the table in front of them before taking a seat. “I remember we were always the first two awake at the beach house when we were kids.”
“The early morning dawn show.” Alex laughed. “I remember Dawn didn’t like that name.”
“No, she didn’t.” Harriet grinned. “Dawn wanted us to call it the early morning rising sun show.”
“It never rolled off the tongue quite like the early morning dawn show,” Alex said. “But we’d lie and pretend we’d changed the name.”
“It was worth it to make our friend happy,” Harriet told him.
“We were a united front then,” Alex remembered and looked at his lifelong friend.
“Alex and Harry, the dynamic duo.” Harriet picked up her juice and raised it in a salute. “Here’s to those crazy kids and the early morning dawn show.”
Alex raised his glass in salute of their younger years before turning to her. “Thank you, Harry.”
“For what?” Harriet’s brows furrowed as she looked at him suspiciously.
“For being here and taking care of me over these past few days,” Alex told her.
“Of course,” she replied. “That’s what friends do.”
As they sat together in silence, watching the dawn’s gentle ascent, a sense of introspection enveloped Alex. The nostalgia of their conversation had left his heart constricted, with a tightness borne from the realization of how their once near inseparable friendship had drifted so apart. Over the years, despite Harriet’s constant presence in his life, an expansive chasm had formed between them. Alex felt that all that kept them together was a precarious bridge made from the threads of their shared history, intertwined lives, families, and friends.
Alex couldn’t help but question the current nature of their friendship. “Are we still friends though, Harry?” His voice was low.
Harriet’s startled eyes met his. “Of course we are,” she assured him.
“Are you sure?” Alex prodded. “Because for years, it’s felt like we moved from being best friends who knew each other so well to friends who were just in the background of each other’s lives.”
“Don’t be absurd, Alex,” Harriet chided. “We might not be joined at the hip like we were when we were growing up, but of course, we’re still friends.”
Alex couldn’t help but challenge this notion, reflecting on the turbulent waters their friendship had navigated over the years. “Just not as good friends as we used to be,” he countered, his tone light but carrying an undercurrent of unresolved feelings. “But you’re still as close to Ethan, Dawn, and Brad as you’ve always been. Maybe even more so.”
“Where is this coming from?” Harriet frowned at him. “Alex, I’ve always been there for you, even when you were at your worst. Especially then.”
“At my worst?” Alex raised his eyebrows questioningly.
“Alex, what is up with you?” Harriet dodged the question. “Did you hit your head on the way out here?”
“See.” Alex pointed at her as he put his glass on the table. “Instead of giving me a straight answer, you joke.”
Harriet shook her head. “Fine!” She put her glass on the table and turned toward him. “You want the truth?”
