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“No. By the time we arrived, the storm was much worse. Maybe Scott thought he’d diced with death enough for one night, but I don’t think it was that. I think he didn’t want to leave me. His kindness is something I’ll never forget.” Nancy stared out over the sea. Today it was calm. It was hard to imagine it could ever be as angry as it had been that night. “Scott came with me in the cab to the hospital, and I was too pathetic and grateful for the support to send him away.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” Jenna let the paintings fall back against the wall. “I hate the thought of you going through that alone. I would have been there for you, Mom. I would have gone with you.”
“And risk your life in that terrible storm? One dead family member was enough. And anyway, the police had already told me your father wasn’t alone in the car. I didn’t want you to know about that.”
She heard Alice make a small sound. Surprise? Shock?
Jenna crossed the room in two strides and wrapped her arms around her. “Mom—”
Alice sat down hard on the one chair in the room. “Oh, Nancy—”
Nancy leaned on Jenna, breathing in the soft floral scent her daughter always wore.
She was so affectionate, so warm, so like Tom.
No, not like Tom. Tom had used warmth as a snare, and affection as currency.
Jenna gave freely.
“Wait—” Lauren rubbed her fingers over her forehead. “Dad was with a woman the night he died?”
“Yes.” Nancy gave Jenna’s shoulder a squeeze and stepped away. “She worked in the hotel he often stayed in when he was off island. One in a long line of women who rode in that car with him.” She noticed that Alice’s face had lost all its color. “Are you surprised? You shouldn’t be. That was my Tom. That was who he was, although of course not many people knew that side of him. That was probably my fault.”
It had been her private shame and humiliation.
Maybe she should have hung him out to dry and let him deal with the fallout, but if she’d done that, her girls would have been hurt.
She felt Lauren’s hand on her arm. “Scott stayed with you that night?”
“Through all of it. The hurricane, the hospital, the police, arrangements to return the body to the Vineyard—We stayed in a motel and he listened to me storm and rage. He didn’t leave my side. Then he brought me home and we never mentioned it again.”
“And you never told anyone.”
“No. Tom died in the car the night of the hurricane. As far as anyone knew, he was on his own. It was considered a tragedy and half the island were at his funeral, but you know that part of course.”
She saw that Alice’s cheeks were wet.
Jenna must have seen the same thing because she rushed across with tissues. “Oh, Alice, you’re such a good friend. Mom is so lucky to have you. And Scott.” She turned to her sister. “Can you believe he did that for Mom?”
Lauren was staring into space, lost in thought. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, I can.”
Nancy wished she knew what her daughter was thinking. “I wouldn’t have made it through that night without him.”
Lauren took a deep breath. “Is that why you were selling Scott the house? Because you felt you owed him?”
“I was selling because I needed the money and he was willing to pay my price. Scott never had a home of his own. I felt as if I was giving something back to him.” But in the end her feelings for the house had proved more powerful. It seemed that obligation and responsibility couldn’t be so easily overridden. She felt a twinge of guilt. Scott had been good
to her.
Family might be complicated, but not having one seemed a worse option to her.
Lauren was suddenly very quiet. It was Jenna who spoke.
“Will you be all right living here, Mom? I’m worried it will be hard for you. Not only because of the limited space, but the memories.”
It should have felt hard, but it didn’t.
Shedding secrets had lightened the load she’d been carrying. She felt ready to sprint forward with her life instead of trudging.
