Page 55 of All These Beautiful Strangers
“Yes, Mother,” Uncle Teddy said, just to annoy her.
Uncle Teddy excused himself to go to the restroom. I waited a moment after he had left and then crawled out of the booth and followed him. Rosie’s Diner had only one unisex bathroom, at the back of the restaurant. So I waited, leaning against the back hall wall. I heard a toilet flush, then the sound of the sink running.
I told myself not to be nervous about asking him. In many ways, Uncle Teddy was like a second father. If there was anyone within the family I would confide in besides Leo, it was him.
The door to the washroom opened and Uncle Teddy flipped the light switch off.
“Oh, sorry, didn’t see you there,” he said. He took a step back and held the door to the washroom open for me, flicked the light back on. “It’s all yours.”
I took a step forward, held the door.
“Actually, there was something I wanted to talk to you about,” I said.
“Okay, what’s up?” Uncle Teddy asked.
“It’s about my mom,” I said. I swallowed nervously. “I know that’s not anyone’s favorite subject.”
Uncle Teddy’s smile wavered for a moment, but then he said, “What do you want to know?”
“Well, first, Eugenia mentioned something strange the other day,” I said, tucking an errant strand of hair behind my ear. “She said that my mom hit you once. That she almost broke your nose.”
Uncle Teddy looked past me, as if he were remembering something and was someplace else altogether. After a moment, he seemed to recover himself. “Your mom has a mean right hook,” he said, feigning a smile.
“So it’s true?”
“Listen, all of that is ancient history,” Uncle Teddy said, slightly irritated. “I have no idea why my mother is even bringing that up.”
“She found out I was at the house on Langely Lake the other week,” I said.
Uncle Teddy frowned. “What were you doing down there?”
I hesitated. “If I tell you something, do you promise not to bring it up to my father?”
“Charlotte—”
“I can’t tell you if you’re going to talk to him about it. He made it clear he didn’t want him involved.”
“Who made that clear?”
I hesitated. “Promise my father doesn’t find out about this?”
Uncle Teddy sighed. “Fine. You have my word.”
“My uncle Hank—do you remember him? He’s my mom’s oldest brother?”
“We’ve met.”
“Well he came to see me the other week,” I said. “He told me he had to talk to me about my mom—about what happened to her. And he showed me these photographs he found in the lake house. These photographs—Uncle Teddy, if you had only seen them. He thinks they have something to do with what happened to my mom. I don’t know.”
“What’s in the photographs?” Uncle Teddy asked.
“Some pictures are of my mom with a strange guy in a diner,” I said. “And then there are other pictures of me and Seraphina and my mom from that summer. Like, creepy stalker photographs. As if someone were following us around Hillsborough that summer.”
Uncle Teddy’s brow creased in concern. “Do you have the photographs with you? Can I see them?”
I shook my head. “Uncle Hank has them. Listen, I know our family and theirs haven’t always seen eye to eye, and I don’t know what to make of the photographs, but I have to admit they’re strange,” I said. “I know this is a huge favor to ask, but do you think you could get me whatever information my father’s private investigator found on my mother? I need to know the whole story. Or, at least, what there is to know.”
Uncle Teddy was quiet for a moment.
