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Marigold gives a hard laugh. “Not so gorgeous anymore,” she says, bending over to pick up a pair of socks that Cobb has discarded next to the bed.
Cobb is about to take his first bite but he pauses, fork in midair. “Come on,” he says, looking at her disbelievingly. “You don’t really think that you’ve lost your looks. There’s no way that a woman who posts pictures of herself gardening in a bikini thinks of herself as unattractive.”
“You’d be surprised,” Marigold says, tossing the socks into a laundry basket near the closet. “Sometimes the women who seem the most self-confident are the ones scrambling to find a foothold.” She sits at the edge of his bed, hands tucked between her thighs. “It’s gotten tough out here, Cobby. People offer their opinions about how a woman looks at every turn, and no matter how much you try to shake it off, it sinks in. It hurts.”
Cobb sets his fork back on the plate without taking a bite. “You haven’t called meCobbyin years.”
“I haven’t called you much of anything,” Marigold says, turning her face to look out the window. “Elijah does most of our talking for us, and that’s okay. I didn’t want to hang around in your life like a ghost. I wanted you to be able to move on—if that’s what you wanted.”
“It wasn’t,” Cobb says, watching her face. “I never wanted you to leave in the first place.”
Marigold gives him a sad smile. “But we both know why I had to. I lost myself, Cobb. I did it happily, most of the time, and being a mom and a wife and running a little country manor totally fulfilled me. But then one day I woke up and realized that I had no idea who Marigold Pim was anymore, other than Elijah’s mom and Cobb’s long-suffering wife.”
“I made you suffer?” Cobb asks, though the answer is already there between them, and it has been for years.
“Watching you hurt yourself was torture. Elijah and I needed to love you from a distance while you got sober, Cobb.” Her words are soft and her eyes fill with unshed tears. “I was always right there—just like I promised I would be; just like I am now—but having a front-row seat to your inevitable meltdown was too much to ask of your wife and kid. We both loved you, and there isn’t a single day that goes by where I’m not quietly thankful for the fact that you found your way.”
Cobb’s own eyes gloss over a bit and he pushes his food to the side. “Thanks, Goldie,” he says. “Thanks for being you.”
She stands up and looks back at him. “Even if we can’t livewitheach other, I wouldn’t want to live in a world without you in it, Cobby.”
Marigold closes the bedroom door quietly and leaves Cobb to his lunch while she goes out to sit with Elijah.
Athena
Athena had a brilliant idea in the middle of the night: she'll hold a holiday craft event in the bookstore for all the kids of the island, and hopefully Elijah will be around to pitch in, or maybe just to attend. Either way, she hopes it will impress him.
"You want to do a crafty thing?" Ruby asks distractedly as Athena follows her around the shop. Ruby is shelving new books and looking harried. "I'm not sure if we have the time to pull it all together--we're what? Three days from Christmas?"
"I can make it happen, Mom. Trust me."
Ruby stops in the history section, holding a biography of George Washington in her hands. She looks at her older daughter and comes to a quick conclusion. "Okay, Bean. If you think you can pull it together and make it into something, then I say go for it."
Athena refrains from clapping her hands together in glee, but she's already picturing the event: pink-cheeked grade school children with glitter stuck to their hands as they glue cotton to construction paper Santa Clauses. And Elijah sitting at a table with a bunch of kids, smiling up at her as he admires her heartfelt volunteerism.
Without waiting for further comment from Ruby, Athena is out the front door of Marooned With a Book and walking quickly towards the island store. Fed Men Tell No Tales isn't exactly a Target or a Walmart, but for an island grocery store, it offers a surprisingly good variety of items.
As Athena walks down Seadog Lane, already writing a mental list of items she'll need, she picks up her phone and calls her sister.
"Whatttt?" Harlow sounds like she's still in bed. "It's not even ten o'clock yet and I have no plans today. I wanted to be lazy so please don't ask me to come to the shop and cover for anyone, or go to the beach or--wait," she says, interrupting herself, "I could actually use some beach time. Can we get coffee first?"
Athena waits for her sister to stop rambling. "No beach today. I'm holding an event in the bookstore for all the kids on the island--we're making crafts and I need you to--"
"Bye."
"Harlow!" Athena yells.
Her sister laughs on the other end of the line. "I'm still here. For at least ten more seconds. But the minute you tell me I need to dress like an elf and hand out candy canes, I'm outta here."
"No, I need your help advertising the event. I'll do everything else. I swear."
Harlow is quiet for a second. "Is this by any chance an event that might draw the attention of someone who also enjoys volunteering with children?"
Athena blows out an indignant breath. "I thought it would be a nice thing to do. And it would bring business into the bookshop."
"Uh huh."
"Okay, also I want to impress Elijah," Athena admits. "Happy now?"
