I think about his words, letting them seep in. Another Lottie-ism comes to mind: Wisdom is just regret dolled up in a party dress.
“What are you going to do now?”
He takes a step back. “I’m going to pack up,” he says, clasping his hands behind himself.
I realize that it’s now or never. I can’t watch him walk away without saying what needs to be said.
“Don’t leave!” I blurt out. He turns around, a puzzled look on his face. “Don’t leave yet. I mean, you can obviously move into your new place next week, but not without telling Rose how you feel. I know the wedding plan didn’t work out. But give me one more shot.”
I’m surprised I’m able to get through the entire impassioned speech without slurring. Thomas stares back, looking torn.
“Please,” I say. “One more shot. Next weekend, Friday, she’s receiving a big award at a mental health fundraiser. I’m sure it would mean a lot to her to have you there.”
“You think so? You don’t think I’d be intruding?”
The garden is still spinning. I need to lie down. “She’ll be sohappy and relieved when the speech is over that I’m sure she’ll be in a good mood. She’ll be busy and distracted all week preparing. Maybe you can pull her aside when she’s done.”
Thomas nods, considering it. “That could work,” he says. “Thank you. You’re a great daughter. I hope you know that.”
He gives me a pat on the shoulder and walks back to the cottage, leaving me alone in the garden, hoping he is right.
Chapter Twenty-NineLily
July 29
The morning of the gala, a tremendous fog rolls in covering the island in a cloud.
“Pea soup,” Rose calls it. It’s like the view from the very tip of a tall mountain. Everything is gray, and the air is thick with moisture when I go for my morning stroll, somewhere between walking and swimming.
Even in the fog I know the way to my destination—I could sleepwalk here. I’m surprised I haven’t already.
I haven’t opened the envelopes Thomas gave me yet—the ones from Lottie. I won’t until after the gala is over. I know I’ll be emotional when I see whatever is waiting for us there, and I don’t want anything to detract from Rose’s day.
I haven’t spoken to Henry since the brewery, either, but in the back pocket of my jeans right now is a letter penned to him. After our conversation, I want to leave everything on a good note, solidify the closure we had last week with a sober goodbye. My sincere well-wishes. I’m on the way to leave it at his mailbox. Then I will be cleanof the past, fresh as the mist on my face now, the cool droplets curling the hair on the nape of my neck.
Theo and I haven’t spoken since he dropped me off. At work, we ignore each other. It’s awkward, but at least Emily is still friendly. Part of me is filled with regret, but another smaller, weaker part is relieved. If he’s leaving in a few days, there’s no point worrying about it anyway. I messed it all up once again, but at least no one got too badly hurt in the process. Theo was a near collision, a close call, but ultimately, I am walking away from the accident still intact. It is only a sideswipe.
One bright point of all the alone time this week is that the collection I’ve been working on is finally coming together. The paintings are scattered around my room. There are six portraits in total. I had to use far too much of my Great Harbor paycheck to buy the extra canvas and paint, but it’s worth it. Looking at the images, I realize it’s the first time in years I’ve felt proud of something I’ve created.
Sometimes I think life is really just a process of realizing how unremarkable you are, in your heartbreak, in your joy, in your hopes. And then continuing anyway. I know that these paintings are not groundbreaking; they are not changing the world. But I’m proud of them regardless. I’m proud to have contributed a verse, tried my hand at capturing something that is important to me. In the paintings, the women I love are rendered eternal.
Finishing the paintings made me miss Jade. I kept looking at the portrait of her, her mouth curved with laughter, and thinking of our mutual stubbornness in letting this cold streak continue to grow. Someone has to be the one to break it. I texted her last night asking if she could talk.
So when I hear a text come in during my walk, at first, I assume it’s Jade already responding, and my heart lifts. When I see it’s from Theo, it lifts even higher. Maybe we should talk, I think. Maybe our relationship deserves a proper ending after all.
My screen reads,I need to see you. There’s something I found out about William.
It’s certainly not what I was expecting, and the mystery makes my heart plop back down with a splat. I feel slightly deflated and not a small bit scared.
Is he a serial killer or something?I joke to break the tension.
I see Theo typing and then stopping. After a minute, he writes,Let’s talk in person.
Not exactly the reunion I had in mind.
Are you still coming tonight? To the gala?I type frantically before the communication loop closes.We can talk there. We still have a ticket for you!
Once again, the ellipsis of him typing appears and then disappears. I wait for him to say something, but no message arrives.
