Beth
Freshly showered, Beth was standing in her bedroom in an oversize T-shirt when Nana peeked her head in.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Nana said. She jerked her thumb toward the window. “The school called to tell me you were on your way home. The principal seemed a little worried about you, and later I saw you pull up to the office. I figured the two of you were having a spat.”
“It’s more than a spat, Nana,” Beth said, her tone weary.
“That I gathered from the fact that he left. And that you stayed on the porch so long afterwards.”
Beth nodded.
“Was it about Ben? He didn’t hurt him, did he? Or you?”
“No, nothing like that,” Beth said.
“Good. Because that’s the one thing that can’t be fixed.”
“I’m not sure this can, either.”
Nana stared out the window before heaving a great sigh. “I take it I’ll have to feed the dogs tonight, huh?”
Beth shot her a look of annoyance. “Thanks for being so understanding.”
“Kitty cats and maple trees,” she said with a wave of her hand.
Beth thought about it before finally grunting in frustration. “What does that mean?”
“It means nothing, but for a second there, you were too exasperated to feel sorry for yourself.”
“You don’t understand. . . .”
“Try me,” she said.
Beth looked up. “He stalked me, Nana. For five years, and then he trekked across the country to search for me. He was obsessed.”
Nana was uncharacteristically silent. “Why don’t you start from the beginning,” she suggested, taking a seat on Beth’s bed.
Beth wasn’t sure she wanted to talk about it, but she figured it was better to get it over with. She began by recounting Keith’s visit to her classroom, and over the next twenty minutes, she told Nana about her abrupt departure from school, her agonizing uncertainty, and ended with her confrontation with Logan. When she finished, Nana folded her hands together in her lap.
“So Thibault admitted he had the picture? And—in your words—babbled about it being a lucky charm and claimed that he came here because he felt that he owed you something?”
Beth nodded. “Pretty much.”
“What did he mean by it being a lucky charm?”
“I don’t know.”
“You didn’t ask?”
“I didn’t care, Nana. The whole thing is . . . creepy and weird. Who would do something like that?”
Nana’s eyebrows knit together. “I’ll admit it sounds strange, but I think I would have wanted to know why he believed it was a lucky charm.”
“Why does that matter?”
“Because you weren’t there,” she emphasized. “You didn’t go through the things he did. Maybe he was telling the truth.”
Beth winced. “The picture isn’t a lucky charm. That’s crazy.”
“Maybe,” Nana responded, “but I’ve been around long enough to know that strange things happen in war. Soldiers come to believe all sorts of things, and if they think something keeps them safe, what’s the harm?”
Beth exhaled. “It’s one thing to believe it. It’s entirely different to become obsessed with a photograph and stalk the subject.”
Nana put a hand on Beth’s knee. “Everyone acts crazy at times.”
“Not like this,” Beth insisted. “There’s something scary about this.”
Nana was quiet before letting out a sigh. “You might be right.” She shrugged.
Beth studied Nana’s face, suddenly overcome with exhaustion. “Will you do me a favor?”
“What is it?”
“Will you call the principal and ask him to bring Ben home after school? I don’t want you driving in this weather, but I’m not really up to doing it myself.”