by Grace Palmer
Toni looks up into his face. Those gray eyes are flashing like fish scales catching the moonlight. His smile—teasing and serious, cocky and humble all at once—is irresistible.
“One song,” she says. “Then I’m going right to sleep. Claro?”
He laughs at her yeehaw-Yankee Spanish, but that’s all the answer he gives before he finds the beat and pulls her into their first step.
She lets him lead, following closely, never wanting to be too far from him. It’s easy to slip into the rhythm, to let the music and the man transport her away.
Not away from here, though. On the contrary, it transports her away from everywhere else she is that is not here.
It takes her away from Atlanta, from Jared, from Nantucket, from Henry.
It takes her away from guilt and shame, from regret and longing.
It takes her fully and completely into this moment. All of her is here, with Nicolas, with this song and this city and this night. Every molecule of Toni Benson is present and accounted for. Fully alive. Fully glistening with the force of her presence.
She feels like she is glowing from within.
The song ends, though Toni feels like it lasted hardly a heartbeat. As he always does, Nicolas clings to her once the last note fades, not yet ready to let her go.
He gazes down at her, unblinking.
“You are defined by far more than what you have lost, Toni,” he whispers. He says it with the voice of a prophecy. “You are defined by whatever you choose to be defined by. I think it is best that we choose to be defined by what we love.”
What on earth should she say to that? What can she say? It feels like he’s casting a spell on her. Like this is the exact combination of words and sights and sounds and smells that she’s needed for so long, in order to ease something in her that had begun to ache so badly for want of release.
She looks up at him. Her lips part as if she’s going to speak, but when she tries, she comes up blank. She just doesn’t have the words to say what that means to her. To tell Nicolas how abruptly he has become the center of her universe. She can’t say that to him for many reasons, not the least of which is because he will surely think it is an insane thing to say to someone that you barely know.
“I…I…” she starts and stops and starts and stops again.
“It’s okay,” he says. “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. I…” Now, it seems like it’s Nicolas’s turn to pause and search for the right words. He settles on saying, “I like you very much, Toni.”
“I like you, too, Nicolas,” she whispers, throat hoarse from the cold.
Then it happens, the moment she feared and longed for and did her best to ignore since the second she first sensed that the two of them were headed hurtling towards each other like shooting stars in the night sky.
He leans down the last little bit of the way and presses his lips gently to hers.
Nicolas’s hand is still strong on her back as Toni kisses him in return. He tastes like red wine and the faint suggestion of a cigar. His stubble grazes delicately against her cheek.
The kiss doesn’t last long. He pulls a half inch away from her and smiles again. “I like you very much,” he repeats.
He lets his hand fall away from her back. Toni smiles and twines her fingers through his. “Walk me home,” she says.
This time, she isn’t letting him slip away from her and vanish into the darkness. She holds his hand as, together, they leave the performers behind them and head off into what is left of the night.
11
Nantucket, Maine —July 2, 2000
In the way that folks tend to do after massive family dinners, everyone sort of dispersed once the food was gone.
Brent was the first to go, racing after a firefly he saw flitting around on the other side of the window. Holly was dispatched to keep watch over him and make sure he didn’t do anything overly foolish in the front yard.
Eliza mumbled an excuse and went to commandeer the landline so she could talk to a friend. Sara wasn’t far behind her older sister, saying something about “catching up on her summer reading for school” that anyone with half a brain knew was a bald-faced lie.
The four women left behind finished the last of the second bottle of chardonnay, then spent the next twenty minutes happily scrubbing away at dishes, ignoring Mae’s protests all the while.
“Hush, Mae,” Debra scolded more than once. “We’re happy to help if you would just let us.”
Eventually, Mae conceded that it was a losing battle, and so little by little, the kitchen was cleansed of crumbs and stains. The leftover food—of which there was plenty—was wrapped in tinfoil and stowed in the fridge, and a comfortable evening time quiet settled over the house.
When wash-up duty was done, the women all retired to the front yard to relieve Holly of her caretaker responsibilities. Toni was perfectly content to watch Brent continuing to chase the fireflies as if he had boundless energy—which, of course, he did. They chitchatted among themselves about life on the island, the comings and goings of the residents.
“You know,” Mae said to Toni, “your old friend Kendra Adkins just had a baby a couple weeks ago.”
“Is that so?” Toni said in surprise. “God, I haven’t talked to her in so long. We were so close back in the day. Maybe I’ll drop in on her tomorrow and check out the little one.”
“Well,” Debra said as she rose to her feet with a groan, “if you need me tomorrow, you can find me running laps around the island, trying to work off the fifty pounds I just gained.”
“I’ll join you, gladly,” Lola chimed in. “I know I said I could eat my weight in lobster when we sat down, but I didn’t realize it would come to pass quite so literally. You always get me, Mae.”
“It’s my pleasure every time, darling,” Mae chuckled. Everyone hugged everyone, and then Lola and Debra ambled off down the lane, headed towards their houses a couple blocks up the road.
Mae and Toni sat quietly for a while in the rocking chairs. Brent was finally starting to slow down.
“I suppose I ought to bathe him eventually,” Mae said, as much to herself as to Toni.
“Should I get the hose?” Toni joked.
“Don’t tempt me.” Mae smiled and drained the last of the bedtime tea she’d prepared for herself in lieu of a nightcap. “Ah well, can’t stave off the inevitable. Are you going to stay out here, love?”
“Yeah,” Toni nodded, “just for a bit. It’s a nice night. I think I’ll just soak it in for a while. I missed home.”
“You got it. Can I bring you anything?”
“No, no, please. You’ve done more than enough. I’ll be out here if you need me, or if Brent tries to make a naked run for it through the front door.”
“You joke,” Mae said wryly, “but it certainly wouldn’t be the first time.”
Laughing, she turned and called for Brent, who came barreling inside at full speed and right up the stairs. The boy did love his baths.
When the front door closed behind Mae, Toni was left with nothing but the crackle of ocean waves and the buzzing of fireflies to listen to, along with the occasional thump and splash from upstairs as Mae wrangled Brent into a state of semicleanliness.
Toni sighed. That felt good, like letting off some pent-up pressure, so she did it again.
What a night it had a been. What a day, what a week, what a life. She didn’t know it was possible for someone to go through so many emotions in such a short period of time. “Roller coaster” didn’t even begin to cover it. She’d aged twenty years in two days, it felt like, and the ride looked as if it had a long way to go yet.
When would it end? And when it did end, where would it leave her? She wasn’t sure of that—wasn’t sure of anything anymore, as a matter of fact. All the things she once took for granted were gone. She had no more husband, no more house. She supposed she still had a job, although the thought of stepping foot in that office ever again suddenly made her sick.
>
It wasn’t fair of Jared to take that from her. She liked her house! She liked her job! She liked the life she had! And at the beginning of this week, it seemed like those things were in her life to stay.
But now, there was just this big, intimidating emptiness where her future once was, as formless and deep as the night sky stretching out over Nantucket. She didn’t have the faintest idea how she was going to fill it.
She’d felt good at dinner. A sense of warm belonging had settled in, and the wine had sanded down the edges of her burgeoning grief.
Now, though, as she sat quietly with nothing but her thoughts for company, that warmth had begun to dissipate.
She shivered, even though the air itself was thick with summer humidity. It wasn’t a temperature shiver—it was a shiver of the soul as it tried to find a comfortable place to rest its haunches.
But there was no comfort to be found. Maybe there wouldn’t be comfort ever again.
Her thoughts went around and around like that, like a carousel whipping ever faster in its circle, and with every rotation, her sadness felt closer and denser, until she was nearly choking on it.
And then, when it had no more room inside of her chest to keep blooming, it came out of her, in the form of big, fat tears that she couldn’t hold back no matter how hard she tried.
Maybe she needed another cry. But she sure as heck didn’t want it. Crying was for babies, right? Didn’t her mom teach her not to cry? That she had to hold her chin up if she wanted to play with the boys? You can’t let them get to you, Antonia, her mother had said more than once. You need to show them that you’re every bit as strong as they are.
Toni knew she was a strong woman. Her mother had been strong, right up to the end, and that same blood ran in her veins.
But the world just felt so heavy right now. It was too much for one woman to bear without at least crying a little bit.
So she let herself cry, and she pretended as though that was a conscious choice, even when she knew deep down in her bones that she was actually powerless to stop it.
“Toni?”
Toni glanced up and saw Mae standing on the threshold of the front door. She was framed by the light coming from within, and, coupled with the tears clouding Toni’s eyes, it looked like she had a halo encircling her head. That was ridiculous—Mae was a good person, sure, as close to a saint as anyone that Toni knew. But she had her foibles just like the rest of us. Angelic, yes, but not an angel. Still, in that moment, it was hard to feel like Mae was anything but heaven-sent. As her sister-in-law swept over, sat down on the arm of the rocking chair, and pulled Toni into a tight hug, saying, “It’s okay, darling, you cry all you need to,” Mae looked angelic through and through.
Toni smelled Mae’s perfume and the scent of the dinner they’d just eaten, and her skin was fresh and soapy from Brent’s bath. She was warm and soft to the touch.
Toni needed all those things right now. She needed normal, comforting smells so she could pretend that things were normal and comfortable in her own world, even if they were far from it.
“My heart is broken,” Toni began after she’d cried for a bit and finally managed to draw in a deep, shuddering breath. She looked up to Mae and explained in halting words what had happened, more or less.
To her everlasting credit, Mae said nothing, just nodded along with something between sympathy and righteous indignation blossoming on her face as she grasped what Jared had done.
“…and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away, Mae. I just didn’t know how to find the words for it just then.”
“Nonsense,” Mae said. “You don’t owe anything to anybody. Do you hear me? I’ll say it again: you don’t owe anything to anybody, Toni. Not to your brother or me or to that lousy soon-to-be ex of yours. All you’ve got to take care of is yourself, okay? Let us handle the rest.”
Toni nodded, not willing to trust her voice just yet. Small kindnesses felt like they were being magnified a million times over, to the point where she started crying all over again just because of how it looked like Mae was feeling Toni’s pain right along with her. It felt good to know that she wasn’t alone. That her family was at her side.
“You sit right there,” Mae instructed with a firm point at the chair Toni was in. “I’m going to be right back out, okay?”
Toni nodded again. Mae strode inside. Toni heard doors open and slam, some muffled voices, and the clinking of something from the kitchen.
Then Mae reemerged with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “I put Eliza in charge of the house for a little while. You and I, darling, are going for a night walk on the beach. And I brought a surprise for the road as well.” She waggled a silver flask in front of her face.
“Please tell me that’s something strong,” Toni said in a hoarse laugh.
“Henry’s finest,” Mae said with a wink. “He’s going to be livid when he finds out I dipped into his liquor cabinet.”
“He’ll get over it,” Toni replied. She wiped her eyes and rose, then followed Mae off the porch and out onto the road.
They walked quietly for a while, passing the whiskey back and forth. Each nip from the flask burned like hellfire going down Toni’s throat, but as it settled into her stomach, she felt some of that warm, homey glow diffusing throughout her once again. The soul-shiver seemed to retreat.
It was nice to pad silently through the night. They peeked into the windows of the homes they passed, seeing families at dinner, sprawled on the couch watching TV, all laughter and smiles. Those houses were safe havens from emotions like the heartbreak that Toni was suffering from. She envied them for it, and at the same time, she felt glad that such places existed. In a world as big and random and cruel as this one, it was a good thing that there were oases that could protect folks, even if only for a little while.
She wanted to share those thoughts with Mae, but seeing as how she’d never been much good with words, she didn’t know where exactly to start.
“It’s always nice being in your home,” she said quietly.
“It’s your home, too, Toni,” Mae answered at once in the same hushed volume.
“I know; you always say so. But it’s nice anyway. I just like telling you that.”
“Well, thank you, love. Home is a special thing.” Mae stopped walking for a second and glanced up. “I don’t want to press you on a single thing, darling, and so I’m going to ask you this one time and one time only: do you want to talk about what happened?”
Toni paused as she thought about it. And the more she tossed it around in her head, the more she decided something. “You know what?” she said to Mae. “I honestly don’t think I do. Not right now, anyway. Gotta look to the future, or else I’m going to drive myself crazy thinking about the past. I’m sure I’ll want to talk about it one day, maybe. But not now.”
“I suspected as much,” Mae said. She rested her hand on Toni’s shoulder. “I won’t ever push you again, okay? No sense in bothering you if talking won’t fix a darn thing. But just know that I’m here anytime you need me. Forever. We’re sisters, right?”
Toni laid her hand on top of Mae’s and smiled. “Sisters for life.”
Mae nodded, satisfied, and they resumed their walk. They made their way out to the beach and sat there for a while as they finished the last of the whiskey.
Toni started hiccupping by the time they got to the bottom of the flask. She was never a big drinker of strong liquor. Tonight seemed like a good occasion for it, to be sure, but it was doing a number on her nonetheless.
They sat in the soft sand and watched the waves for a while. “I always thought the ocean was so beautiful at night,” Toni said.
“Like black glass,” agreed Mae.
Eventually, they decided it was time to meander back home. They leaned on each other for support, since both were a little woozier from the whiskey than they had been on the way out.
A few blocks away from Mae’s house, Toni saw a dilapidated building seated towards the back
of a big, overgrown lot. “Bit of an eyesore, isn’t that?” she commented.
Mae glanced over sleepily. “Oh, that one? Yes, it is. It needs quite a lot of work, but I always thought it had nice bones.”
They kept walking. Toni looked over at the crumbling home once more before they rounded the corner and it disappeared from sight.
The house was silent when they approached. Toni bid Mae good night as her sister-in-law went to check on the kids, then mounted the stairs and collapsed into her bed.
Sleep came quickly, and when it did, she surrendered herself up to it with gratitude.
12
Buenos Aires, Argentina—November 25, 2018
It feels lately as though the days are slipping one right into the next like the steps of a tango, with hardly a pause to differentiate them.
Without even realizing it was happening, Toni has fallen into a rhythm, the facsimile of something that looks—gasp—just like a happy, normal life. She eats, she shops, she daydreams. She drinks coffee at cafés with Camille, and she goes to museums with Nicolas.
And at night, they dance.
They dance in just about every milonga in the city, it feels like. As Toni gets her sea legs under her, she starts to feel more and more comfortable with all the pageantry that comes along with the art and science of tango in Buenos Aires.
Heck, part of her even starts to like it. After all, there are so many things to like.
Such as the hushed pitter-patter of nervous talking from the newbies as they mingle with the suave, self-assured, hypermasculine locals who charge into the night’s venue in search of tourist women to sweep off their feet.
Or the tangled cloud of perfume and cologne that rises over the crowd, so that every step of the dance brings her swirling into exotic scents gathered from every corner of the world.
She likes the music and the athleticism of it, how her feet ache after a long night of dancing. She likes how it feels to step chest to chest with her partner and to feel like there is a kind of primal tête-à-tête between two bodies taking place that doesn’t require either person to say a word.