fabled creature of an underwater universe. A magical commu-
nion between life forms. Oh glorious, mysterious, nonsensical world.
Maya’s heart buoyed in her chest.
“Boom!” she said. “Just when you least expect it. When
you think you know how it will all turn out.” She turned to
Blue. “Story of everyone’s life.”
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BLUE
Blue watched as the water stilled, the whale slipping back
into the deep like a dream quickly forgotten. Around her the
mood on the boat had changed. Seagulls gathered and gos-
siped like old ladies, frantic with excitement over the hump-
back’s visit. The passengers became at once celebratory and
serene, as after a birth. The boat steered toward the docks,
everyone chatting about what they’d seen. Some guests dis-
appeared below, switching from colas to cocktails at the bar, before reappearing on the deck.
“I gotta admit,” Blue said, “that was pretty spectacular. Al-
most worth all the puking.”
“I knew we’d see one,” Maya said. “I never lost faith.”
“Did anyone get any pictures?” Renee asked.
Blue shook her head regretfully.
“I didn’t even think to,” Hannah said.
“That sucks,” Maya said. “If only there was some genius
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who remembered to… Oh wait! There is.” She held up her
phone, grinning.
“Oh, yay!” Hannah said.
They all gathered around Maya’s phone.
“Make sure you text me all the good ones,” Blue said.
They looked on eagerly as Maya began to scroll and scroll,
picture after picture.
Their smiles faltered.
“I don’t understand,” Renee said.
Maya reached the last photo, looked up. “They’re all of
Hannah’s hat. That damn thing is bigger than the whale.”
Blue looked closer and, sure enough, every picture was of
Hannah’s yellow brim plus a slice of blue ocean and a tiny
splash of white water beyond it.
“Wait,” Blue said. “Is that the tail?”
“Yes, I think…” Maya peered closer. “Nope, that’s her rib-
bon.”
Hannah made a hangdog face. “Sorry.”
They all shook their heads, returned to the bench.
“We still love you,” Maya said. “Just a tiny bit less.”
Blue leaned back, stretched out her legs. Her nausea had
subsided just enough that she had resumed replaying every
dumb thing she’d done the night before. Each recollection
was worse than the last—the drunken spill of water, the look
in his eyes, all the stupid things she said. She wanted to find a small closet in herself, safe from memory and self-recrimination, step inside it, shut the door.
In front of her a sleepy toddler eyed her warily from over his mother’s shoulder. Who are you to judge me? she thought, staring back. Things are easy now, but just you wait, it’s all downhill from here. He shoved a biscuit into his mouth with his chocolate-East Coast_9780778309499_TS_txt_277098.indd 309
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KERRY KLETTER
stained fist and glared at her. Yeah, that’s right, teethe on that, little man. She had reached a new low. She was having silent wars with two-year-olds now.
“I don’t want to go back,” Renee said. “Can we just stay
on this boat forever?”
“Why not?” Maya said. “Can’t get much more adrift than
I already am.”
“Try getting pregnant,” Renee said. “With a cheating fiancé.”
“You win,” Maya said.
“On the plus side, I haven’t thought of Darrin in like five
hours.”
“Who?” Maya said.
“Exactly,” Renee said, and they laughed.
Blue closed her eyes for a moment, the night before loop-
ing in her brain. She thought of that moment of elation when
she’d received the message from Jack last week, of the lacey
underwear she’d packed so optimistically in her suitcase. Of
how hope could turn so swiftly on her. A flash flood of de-
spair. She blinked it away, thought she might be sick again.
“You guys,” she said. The ocean was wrinkled with wind
now. In the glint of sunlight, it looked like crumpled tinfoil.
Meringue-like peaks of white water formed and scattered. A
light mist was dampening her outstretched legs. “What if Jack was like that whale?” She wasn’t asking in the hopes of an answer. She didn’t know what she was hoping for.
“What does that even mean?” Maya said.
Blue examined her feet in their flip-flops. If she looked at
Maya directly, she might cry. Grief gnawed at her, carnivo-
rous, insatiable. It seemed both about Jack and utterly sepa-
rate, a false corollary.
“You wait and wait and wait for good things to come along.
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The really big things—love, the perfect job, some great vic-
tory—but what if one of those things shows up and you just…
blow it?”
“Oh, Blue,” Hannah said.
“First person who says ‘there’s more fish in the sea’ gets
thrown overboard, by the way,” Blue said to cut the seriousness.
Renee sighed, twisted her engagement ring nervously. “You
should text him.”
“No way,” Blue said.
“He’s not your one big thing,” Maya said. “He’s just a guy.
Who you’ve attached too much meaning to.”
“What’s the saying?” Hannah said. “Don’t confuse a les-
son for a soul mate.”
“So what’s the lesson, then?” Blue said. “And how do you
know the difference?” She looked into their blank faces. “And why the hell doesn’t anyone ever have the answers to anything that matters?”
“Technically Hannah gets paid to have the answers,” Maya
said.
Blue arched an eyebrow at Hannah. “Do I need to send you
an email or do you dispel advice on the fly?”
“Please,” Hannah said. “You’re looking at a girl who sought
answers from a carnival psychic.”
Blue sighed, regret weighing on every inhale. If only she
could have a do-over.
“If it makes you feel better, I think every guy is my whale,”
Renee said. “It doesn’t even occur to me to wonder if I actually like them. It’s just, you know, here’s somebody. I bet a lot of people miss out on the right person by thinking that way. Because, God, who has that much patience to wait? That much faith?”
“Maybe,” Blue said. But it didn’t make her feel any better.
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They all got quiet.
In front of them, the woman with the toddler was now
wiping his chocolate-covered hands with a napkin from her
bag. Blue noticed Renee watching them.
“I’m going to raise this kid without a father,” Renee said
slowly, as if that reality was only now settling in. “Just like my mother. Li
terally a repeat. Why can’t we ever get away
from our past?”
“I don’t know,” Blue said, wondering the same.
“I’ll end up screwing this kid up for life.”
“No, you won’t,” Hannah said.
“Please,” Renee said. “Look at me. I run from conflict. I
panic in an emergency. I make dumb choices…”
“All true,” Maya said calmly, then seemed to notice them
gaping at her. “What? It is. Not the part about being like her mother, obviously, but I mean, of course she’s going to screw the kid up.” She uncapped her water bottle and took a long,
slow sip, unfazed by the continuing looks they were all giv-
ing her. “Everyone screws their kid up. It’s a fact of life. Fortunately there will be other screwed-up kids. Like we were. Who Renee’s screwed-up kid can be screwed-up friends with. And
they’ll have good times and bad times. And the cycle continues.”
“But I don’t want to screw anyone up,” Renee said.
“Then don’t be a mother,” Maya said.
“Anyway, I thought we were talking about me and my mistakes,” Blue said.
“Actually, we were talking about me first and then you in-
terrupted,” Renee said.
“Enough about anyone’s mistakes!” Maya said. She jumped
to her feet, startling all three of them. “Seriously, look where we are.” She thrust her arms wide.
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313
Behind her the horizon was slowly resolving back into slen-
der white beaches and bursts of plush, tree-lined coast, the sun on its slow dip to the west.
“I wonder if we can see Nana’s house from here,” Han-
nah said.
They all moved to the rails, squinted toward the shore.
“Is that… Blue’s dignity floating over there?” Maya asked.
“Oh, never mind, it’s just a buoy.”
Blue whacked her on the shoulder.
“Let’s take a picture,” Hannah said.
“Okay,” Maya said, “everyone move closer. Hannah, take
off the hat.”
Blue and the others smooshed in beside Maya, and Maya
f lipped the phone camera so they could see themselves in
it. Immediately Blue looked away, unable to bear her own
image. It was impossible not to imagine how differently this
day would have gone if she’d handled herself better the night before. Maybe Jack would even be with them on the boat.
Or she’d be meeting him afterward for a walk on the beach,
holding hands by the shoreline as the afternoon lowered be-
hind the cliffs. If only she could have at least kissed him. Just once. Just to know again, just to remember that sweet, blissful aliveness. She would’ve been okay with that. One kiss.
“Okay everyone, smile,” Maya said.
Blue forced a smile over the ache. After all, she was with
her best friends, her first responders. And if life was going to hurt, then at least there was this, there was sunshine, there was love. She looked at Maya with her disarming smile and warm
eyes, at Hannah with her big sunglasses and red curls, at Renee leaning tentatively in beside her. Couldn’t it be enough that she had this? Why did the heart always want more?
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HANNAH
It was half past five as they left the docks, the hour turned golden and baked to softness. Hannah was drowsy, her body
relaxed in a way it usually was not, like she was stoned on so much sunlight.
“Anyone up for a late-day swim?” Maya asked.
“I might be up for that,” Hannah said.
Their eyes caught in the rearview and she saw the surprise
and delight in Maya’s face, and it made her want to do that
more often, say yes.
The parking lot was in transition, the all-day surfers strap-
ping their boards to their cars, unhurried and happy, the
postwork evening shift pulling up in their trucks and Jeeps,
jumping out to check the waves.
Hannah approached the sand, the Ditch Witch closed for the
day, the old wooden bench beside it empty, the sea grass wav-
ing in the onshore breeze. The lifeguards had retired. Only a scattering of families remained, a scrappy wet terrier chasing East Coast_9780778309499_TS_txt_277098.indd 314
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a stick, a girl packing up the tie-dyed shirts she’d been hawk-ing out of her beach bag. Hannah watched two kids running
toward the water with their bright boogie boards. It made her wistful to think of how their lives would be filled with many things, love and heartbreak, loss and joy, laughter and regret.
This, she understood now, was all that could be predicted. It could be predicted of every life. Every one.
The sun was tiring now, creating a deeper blue to the ocean,
a September chill blowing onshore. The air smelled slightly
turned, a hint of rot in the sea. A reminder that everything
ended. She saw a flash of herself returning to her apartment.
Saw her life close and lock. She shivered. Remembered Maya
talking about choices.
“Can’t believe we have to leave tomorrow,” Renee said.
“Let’s just stay,” Maya said as she and Blue joined them.
“What’s another day or ten? I hear the weather will be beau-
tiful.”
“Say the word and I’ll cancel work,” Blue said.
Hannah would love to stay on but of course she thought of
Henry. Even a few more days would feel like an indulgence.
Instinctively she glanced at her phone. Saw a missed call from Vivian. Her nervous heart flinched .
“Last one in buys dinner,” Maya shouted, throwing off
her cover-up. She turned and looked at Hannah and her face
changed. “What?”
Hannah shook her head, hit Return Call and began pacing.
Something was wrong. She could feel it. Dread rising, pour-
ing in. She could sink to her knees, be swallowed by life like it was quicksand. She swore it could happen.
Vivian’s phone went to voice mail. Hannah was panick-
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ing now, in need of her Xanax, in need of Vivian to answer
the damn phone.
She called again as the girls stood silently watching.
“Hello?” Vivian finally answered.
Hannah headed toward the ocean. Her instincts drove her
there, to its monotonous, heaving efforts, its break and rebuild.
It goes on, she remembered someone once saying about life. It goes on. She took a breath in order to brace against a moment that might rob her will to do so.
“Hannah,” Vivian said.
It was in the way Vivian said her name that Hannah knew
for sure the news was bad, and there was a shock in this even as she’d anticipated it. She gripped a rock on the jetty, lowering herself onto it, her body heavy and arthritic with im-
pending sorrow, with resistance to it. She squeezed her eyes
shut, trying to block out what was coming.
“I’m so sorry to interrupt your vacation again,” Vivian said.
Shrieking erupted out of two small children chasing each
other in the sand, an absentminded mother beside them gaz-
ing past the sea to something beyond it.
“What is it?” she hear
d herself say. She was suddenly two
Hannahs at once, the Hannah living this moment and the
Hannah observing herself in it, aware that something enor-
mous, dark, nuclear was about to crash into her life, drastically change it, change her, that nothing would be the same after.
Oh, it was so awful—that awareness—watching your heart
lunge for hope, that last desperate clutch on the life you knew.
She looked at the children, wanted them to have their in-
nocence and joy for as long as possible.
“There was an accident.”
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It was as if all of her systems stopped at once. Heartbeat,
lungs, thoughts. The terrible purgatorial pause.
“An aide was moving Henry into his chair and I guess he
lost his grip on him and he fell. They took him to the ER.
They ran tests. There was a minor brain bleed, which is why
I called you the other night. I assumed it would resolve. But there continues to be some swelling on the brain. On his
breathing center.” Vivian paused. “He’s on a ventilator now.”
The world seemed to dilate around her. Too big, too loud,
too much. And she too small to hold so much sorrow. But
just as quickly hope leaked in. “Okay…that’s not good. Ob-
viously. But he’s still okay, right?”
He had been on a ventilator once before. He still had the
trach scar.
Eventually they had gotten him off. He’d been okay.
Silence on the other end of the line.
Tears sprang. “They can treat it, right? I mean, even if he
has to stay on the machine for a while?”
Hannah’s throat constricted.
She heard a sigh. “I had a long talk with the doctors again
today,” Vivian said. “Hannah, I think we need to consider
whether…”
Hannah braced. “Whether what?”
“We’ve held out hope for so long,” Vivian said finally. “He
wouldn’t want this. For him or for us.”
“What are you saying? No—you can’t.”
“Please consider—”
“There’s nothing to consider! Vivian, please!” People on
the beach were looking at her. She didn’t care. “You’re not
thinking straight.”
“I think it might be time to come home,” Vivian said. “It
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