As it turned out, no one was in the red cabin when Mary arrived. She could see that the belongings of two girls were there- one set partially unpacked and one set that had been dropped off waiting to be unpacked. Mary began unpacking her own belongings, filling one of the remaining three closet areas. Located behind the great room area of the cabin, each partitioned closet area included a dresser, vanity and a hanging clothes rod filled with size appropriate items emblazoned with “Summer Island” in a variety of colors. Three closet areas faced three more closet areas with pale pink walls separating the areas from side to side and lime green decorative drapery rods housed drapes of varying shades of pink, magenta and red in different prints depending upon whose dressing area it was, which allowed for privacy if the drapes were pulled closed. Mary marveled at the fact that each of the girls names appeared in large red wooden letters on the partitioned pale pink walls next to their respective closet areas.
It was a sweet personal touch that was carried over in the bedroom area in that each bed had a large lime green pillow bearing the owner’s first name in bright scarlet script. The homey quilts in shades of pink and magenta, the red wrought iron bed frames and the multi-colored round braided rugs gracing the white washed wood floors, added to the cottage feel of the cabin. The bedroom area was painted a pale shade of lime green on the top third of the wall with pale pink wainscoting on the bottom two-thirds of the wall. The wainscoting had a shelf on top of it which had personal photo frames propped up in the areas above three of the girls’ beds. Mary recognized one of the sets of photos belonged to Peggy who had helped her in registration and another was that of Cara. In the third set of framed photos, Mary recognized the girl who had glared at her, Chase’s ex-girlfriend, in the photos. As she stood there, she shook her head and decided she didn’t want to be caught looking at the girl’s photos in case they came back to the cabin so she concentrated on setting up her own photos over her bed.
Mary smiled tenderly as she positioned the photo of her and her mom. Kate Anderson and her daughter were poised in front of the fireplace in Mary’s childhood home, the branches of a brightly decorated Christmas tree visible on the left side of the photo and their expressions of serene happiness showed through the photograph. Theirs was a close relationship sealed with the bond mothers and daughters often share, combined with something a bit more, a bit stronger, okay a lot stronger. Together they had endured the tumultuous ride of living with an alcoholic, Frank, Mary’s father.
Over the years, there had been many occasions when Kate had been exasperated by her ex-husband’s actions. She had tried as hard as she could to hold her contempt and her extreme emotions from her daughter so as to not dilute the relationship Mary was entitled to have with her father, free from her criticism. It had not been easy and there were times that the situation had pushed Kate to her personal edge when she said things she wish she hadn’t in front of her daughter. The part of the situation that most bothered Kate, outside of the danger concerns, was the fact that Frank could often turn Kate into what she considered to be the worst version of herself. She found herself stooping to a level she never got to under any other circumstances with anyone other than Frank- saying things she meant to hold in, acting in a defensive way and mulling over issues over which she had no control and over which caused her more emotional pain certainly than they did for Frank.
Over time, Kate learned to forgive herself and let herself take each challenge with his alcoholism as it came. For a long time they were separated before finally reaching a somewhat amicable divorce. Throughout, Mary was a well-adjusted little girl, a fact which Kate took pride in. This was until a series of events rocked their strong foundation. First there was the accident.
Mary cringed as she remembered that fateful night she had spent at her father’s apartment. Her best friend, Betsy Bennington, had come over to help ease Mary since it was the first unsupervised visit she had scheduled with him in quite some time. Betsy had always been compassionate and loyal. Even though the prospect of the evening was laced with an uncomfortable air and a sense of enduring just to get through it, there was no where Betsy would have rather been. She was there for Mary no matter what, whenever and doing whatever needed to be done even if it was not the most enjoyable or far from it. They had a take-out dinner from her father’s favorite Chinese restaurant and played Gin Rummy at his kitchen table. Everything had seemed to be going so well, her father seemed to be recovered and Mary took heart in the moment and had a surprisingly good time.
That night Mary and Betsy slept in the trundle bed in the guest room which they had done so many times in their childhood. The furniture set had been Mary’s growing up and her mother had given it to Frank when she had recently redecorated Mary’s room at the house. Mary slept in the taller part of the trundle bed and Betsy in the pull-out bed that was popped-up and positioned right next to Mary’s bed. With the large dresser and desk against the opposite wall there was little other space in the room with the pop-up bed filling the main open space of the room. The girls lay awake chatting and, in a ritual they had done since childhood, lined up stuffed animals and dolls in the crack between the two beds.
Mary could scarcely recall what they had talked about and laughed about all night resulting in little sleep. She assumed much of the conversation was devoted to Scott Morrow who had been Betsy’s boyfriend since the summer when they met at Summer Island. They awoke the next morning and ate cereal and bagels with Frank before settling in to watch Saturday morning television programming. Mary distinctly remembered assuring Betsy that she would be okay to spend the rest of the weekend with her father alone. She greatly appreciated Betsy’s presence in transitioning her into the weekend visit with her father. When Betsy asked her if she was sure, Mary reminded her she had a book report for school to work on anyway which she had yet to start due to her anxiety about how the weekend visit would go. Now she just needed to buckle down and work on the report and, now that the niceties and awkwardness of the beginning of the visit were over, Mary would be able to concentrate on her homework and she would be able to get through whatever conversations and meals the rest of the weekend would present before her mother picked her up on Sunday.
Frank offered to drive Betsy home and Mary decided to stay back at the apartment, something she would later feel guilt over, at the insistence of her dear best friend who didn’t want Mary to have to endure the car ride back to the apartment with Betsy no longer there serving as a buffer. Mary began working on her report and was making headway when she got the phone call from her mother.
There had been a terrible car accident. Frank and Betsy were critically injured in the single-car accident. The police suspected and later confirmed that Frank had been drunk driving. Mary’s mind whirled with emotions and a sense of shock that shook her to the core and left her with many questions. When had her father been drinking? Why had he been drunk in the early afternoon before lunch? Why would he get behind the wheel and endanger himself? If he wanted to hurt himself, why would he have taken Betsy along for the ride and also risked anyone else he might have hit on the roadways?
Mary turned to look at her second framed photo as she set it on the shelf over her bed. The picture showed Mary with a truly recovered Frank Anderson. He had the sort of smile that evoked triumph over a great many personal battles combined with a sense of gratefulness that the women in his life still stood by him. His arms were wrapped around Mary’s shoulder and her hand reached up to hold his with the scene of a campsite behind them. The accident had been a wake-up call for Frank. It was his personal rock bottom. It took a long time for him to come to terms with what he had done, what he had become. Helping him with his recovery was Betsy herself. She was like a bright rainbow after a tumultuous storm- ever lovely with her forgiveness, ever encouraging and compassionate, ever insistent that her best friend’s father move on from the past toward the future.
The last frame Mary arranged was the most recent of the three photos. It showcased Kate and Mary on the beach behind Kate’s house with Scott in-between them. This photo was especially important to Mary because Betsy had been the photographer. Mary and Scott had become close as they spent time together at the hospital visiting Betsy and supporting her as she endured difficult physical therapy for the injuries she had sustained. The three of them became inseparable. And then, just when they were feeling thankful and were settling back into what they thought would be ordinary life, Betsy disappeared into thin air in an apparent kidnapping.
It was devastating for Mary and Scott as they grappled with the unbelievable fact that someone so close to them had survived and fought her way back from a horrific car accident only to be kidnapped without a trace. Not knowing if she was alive or… Well, Mary couldn’t think about that. She still had difficulty understanding how this could happen to someone so special like Betsy, her beautiful blue-eyed, raven haired, best friend. Months later, after countless search parties and investigations into every clue available, Betsy’s whereabouts remained a mystery. When Mary received the letter about her acceptance into Summer Island, she jumped at the chance not only at a change of scenery for the summer months but to be in the place Betsy had been this time last year, hoping against hope that it would somehow bring her closer to figuring out the mystery of her best friend’s disappearance.
She was surprised to learn Scott had come back to Summer Island this year but now that she thought about it she understood immediately why. He wanted to return to this place and remember the innocent times they had together, before the accident and before her disappearance. Mary imagined he hoped to find peace here and, in the short time since she had arrived on the island, she could see that if you were to find peace anywhere it would be at this serene locale. She wondered if Scott already felt reconnected to his happy memories with Betsy, those that were not marred by dramatic circumstances.
Mary had to stop herself. She was not ready to think about Scott right now and how he was doing. During the time they had spent searching for Betsy and following potential leads, Mary and Scott had grown close. The closeness between them grew exponentially flowering from the foundation established during the time they had spent together in the hospital waiting rooms and cafeteria. It had grown into a sort of love that they didn’t fully understand and awkwardness developed as they began to wonder if they were becoming romantically interested in each other. Then a sense of guilt set in as they felt that even thinking along such lines was a betrayal of Betsy who could be fighting for her life as they were looking into each others’ eyes. Betsy was the most loyal person either of them knew. They could not stand to let their connection with each other jeopardize their mutual loyalty to her. And so, with no current investigational path in sight of which to locate Betsy, they distanced themselves from each other until it seemed now as they were both here on Summer Island.
summerislandstorm 