I zoom out and scroll down his page, which is unfortunately under lock and key. I can’t see a single status update. And his current profile picture is the only one made public.
I’ve hit a wall.
Clicking on his friends’ list, I scroll through to see if I can find Ashlan. I know he mentioned they went to school together, and she seems like the kind of person who’d have their entire profile wide open for the entire world to see, so I’m hopeful I might be able to find Thayer in some pictures or tagged posts.
I just want to know what he’s been up to.
And I want to see that he’s having fun, enjoying his life, living it up.
I type the name “Ashlan” into the search bar above Thayer’s friends’ list and the only result that comes up is for an “Ashlan Potthoff.” Clicking on her picture confirms I’ve got the right girl, and scrolling through her page proves my assumption correct—this thing is an open book.
I start with the most recent post—one of Ashlan taking a selfie and posting about her “Thanksgiving food baby,” which is non-existent because her stomach is flat as a board. It’s nothing more than an attention grab, and the comments section is filled with a half a dozen other girls telling her how wrong she is and how amazing she looks.
Yawn.
I keep going, scrolling faster and faster because none of these pictures contain anyone who looks remotely like Thayer. Ninety-nine percent of them are selfies or huge group pictures that turn blurry when you try to zoom in too much.
Not only that, but she posts at least four times a day.
It’s almost time to go pick up my grandparents when I make it to September.
There’s a video posted on September fifteenth. I fish my earbuds from my bag and stick them in the jack on the laptop before hitting play.
The sound of Ashlan’s nasally voice precedes the camera coming into focus. It looks like she’s filming Thayer, only he’s at his computer so all I can see is the back of him.
“I’m still mad at you about last summer,” Ashlan says.
“Mad at me for what?” Thayer asks.
“I came all the way to the island to visit you for five days and you barely gave me the time of day. You were all hung up on that blonde girl. That maid. What was her name again?”
“Lila.”
“Yeah, that’s right. You totally had the hots for her.”
“What are you talking about?” he asks.
“You were always checking her out when you thought no one was paying attention,” she says.
“Yeah, well, she was pretty. And I’m a red-blooded American male. That’s kind of what happens when you put those two things together. She’s not my type though.”
“Obviously. She was kind of weird.”
“Definitely,” he says, his tone so convincing it stings.
“Did you guys ever hook up?”
“God, no. I’m not that desperate.”
“Okay, now answer this: who’s hotter? Me or her?” Ashlan asks.
“You. Hands down. All the way.”
“Aww, I love you so much,” she says, singsong-y. “Do you love me?”
“Of course I love you.”
I slam the lid down, eyes welling with tears, and I pack up my things and dash to my car.
I knew it.
PART FOUR [present]
May 2019
Chapter 47
Thayer
I corner Westley outside The Caldecott the moment I set foot on the island that night. I spent the entire plane ride home trying to piece everything together, trying to rectify what I thought I knew with this new information. If MJ was born in May, that means Lila would’ve been pregnant in August—when we were still together. And if Lila told MJ the ring was from her daddy …
“Tell me everything,” I say as I charge him. “Now.”
Westley’s hands lift in the air. “Thayer, come on. Don’t make a scene.”
“You’re not going anywhere until you tell me everything.”
Westley glances around. The island’s been full of various vendors and contractors all week, setting up for his sister’s wedding and ensuring everything’s going to go off without a hitch.
“Lila’s daughter,” I say. “Is she yours or is she mine?”
Westley hooks his arm into mine and pulls me to the east side of his house, away from the hustle and bustle.
“Lila’s daughter is yours,” he says.
“I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t she have told me? Why keep it this secret and disappear?” I think about all the things I’ve missed. Milestones. Celebrations. The birth of my first child…
How could she?
“She found out she was pregnant in the middle of September,” he says. “She confided in me and as we were trying to figure out what she should do, we realized that she was going to lose her job regardless … but she didn’t want you to lose your education. I didn’t either. We figured I had less to lose than you, so I told her I’d take credit for her … predicament.” He draws in a breath, hands on his hips. “But our little plan backfired because it turns out, Lila’s my half-sister.”