by Marci Nault
Victoria opened her mouth and Molly pointed her finger at her. “Don’t you interrupt me. I’ve listened to your opinion our whole lives and now you will hear mine. You’re angry at Heather, not because of her, but because of what you lost.”
Molly stood and held the sides of the chair for support. Then she walked to Victoria and took her friend’s hand. “Heather is not Annabelle. Let her go. You can’t show her that she’s going down the wrong path, just like I couldn’t show you.”
Victoria looked away.
“You don’t think that every time I saw you or heard your voice, I didn’t want to race in? That when you came to me battered and broken, I didn’t want to grab you and hold you in my arms until I knew you’d be safe from Devon?” Molly’s eyes watered and a tear dripped down her cheek. “You were so afraid of a normal life—somehow being a mother and a wife here in Nagog was failure. You don’t think I wanted to knock sense into that thick skull of yours, tell you that what you needed and wanted was to come home? You could’ve had both! Why do you think I ran to your rescue every time you fell? . . . Victoria, I couldn’t stop you because it was your choice. Just like you can’t help Heather unless it’s what she wants.”
Victoria shook her head. “Why?”
“Because it’s her life. If you want to help her”—Molly stared into Victoria’s silver eyes—“tell her the truth. Stop trying to impress her with stories of Hollywood, like the two of you have so much in common because you lived grandly once, and tell her what really happened. The good, the bad, and the very ugly.”
“I don’t want to talk about this.” Victoria looked away.
“You never do. No one has been able to talk to you about any of it . . . especially not about Annabelle. You think that your example is what led Annabelle to do what she did.” She put her hand on Victoria’s shoulder. “You were an incredible mother and grandmother. That girl chose her path.
“Let Heather go. She’s a scared girl determined to make her mark. Only she can decide when to stop running. It took you over fifty years. Do you really think your friendship can change it for Heather?”
Victoria opened the door and ran across the beach, so entrenched in her own pain she didn’t notice Molly grabbing onto the chair as she lost her balance and fell to the floor. Victoria ran past Joseph’s house and onto the road. She hit the main street and continued to run, stumbling over roots as she cut through the woods. Moist leaves caused her feet to stumble and she fell, ripping her pants. Her heart raced, but it was the pain of past regret that tightened her chest. “You were supposed to take me,” she screamed to the sky. “Why didn’t you take me instead?”
CHAPTER 23
Heather climbed the three winding flights of stairs to Gina’s, and now Michard’s, apartment. As she reached the door, her purse slid from her shoulder and splashed her coffee cup, the brown liquid sloshing onto her jeans and burning her hand. “That gives new meaning to Starbucks going to your hips,” Gina said from the landing. “Come on in, I’ll get you a towel.”
Through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the living room in Gina’s North End apartment, Heather could see the yachts lit up in Boston Harbor. Overhead track lighting, placed to accent the colorful, modern paintings that graced the brick wall, gave the room the feel of a gallery. Red curtains met black couches, and a bar had been built into the back corner of the midsized room.
The scent of garlic filled the kitchen where Michard chopped and diced. He kissed Gina’s cheek and then nipped her neck as she wet a towel at the sink. She giggled and swatted at him with the towel before handing it to Heather. Heather tried to blot the coffee stain. She had a change of clothing in her suitcase, but it was in the car.
“Just borrow something of mine,” Gina said as she grabbed Heather’s hand and rushed her toward the bedroom.
When Gina bought her apartment, she’d built a dressing room in her large bedroom. The space included drawers, hanging racks, and inner compartments filled with silk, cashmere, designer denim, and leather. In a rainbow of colors, beads, and crystals, her shoes filled an entire wall.
“Grab anything you like,” Gina said.
“Your closet is the place of dreams,” Heather said.
“I thought I would hate sharing it with Michard, but there’s something comforting about seeing his clothing next to mine. I love living with him. I was so scared to do it, but now that he’s moved in, I’m just ready.”
“Ready for what?” Heather asked as she pulled on a simple green jersey dress.
“That looks amazing on you. You should keep it. I never wear it because it makes my butt look huge.” Gina fluffed Heather’s hair. “Charlie’s going to want you back when he sees you in that dress.”
“You know you look fabulous in everything,” Heather said as she stared in the mirror. “And Charlie and I are done romantically. This is a business meeting that needs to be done on neutral turf.”
“I know, but there’s nothing wrong with making a man want you.” Gina grabbed Heather’s hand. “I need to ask you something really important.” She paused. “I know you’re stressed and that this isn’t the time to bring it up, but . . .”
“Gina, what’s up?”
“It’s been hard not to tell you, but I didn’t want to upset you any more than you were—seeing that you were going through a breakup and hadn’t found anyone.”
“Gina, just tell me,” Heather said.
“Michard and I are talking about marriage. I don’t have a ring or anything yet, but he wants to travel to Italy next April to see his family. We’ve discussed getting married in Tuscany. I want you to be my maid of honor.”
Heather squeezed Gina’s hand. Her friend looked radiant with love. “Of course.”
Heather hugged her friend and heard the front door open, then Charlie’s voice. Let the games begin, she thought. Gina practically bounced out of the room as Heather took a deep breath and found herself biting the inside of her lip. In the kitchen, the table had been set and Michard was placing bowls of steaming food onto hot plates. “Hi,” Heather said to Charlie. “Thanks for coming.”
“We eat first and then you discuss business,” Michard said. “Full bellies make any work easier.”
They sat and passed the food, piling large portions of vegetables and pasta on their plates. Michard and Gina fed each other in the sickeningly sweet way of the newly in love.
“I spoke with Steven this afternoon. It turns out losing the Sunday column is going to be good for us,” Charlie said as he ate pasta.
Heather finished her bite of food and then spoke, “What are you talking about?”
“It seems that your column has been holding you back. It’s too touchy-feely. That’s why I wanted the book to have more edge. You’re too young to appeal to an older crowd, but that’s what your writing is doing. Your main demographic is women in their thirties and forties who are college educated and single. The Travel Channel has plenty of shows geared to that demographic already. They want someone fun and sexy yet wholesome.”
“Well, that’s Heather,” Gina said.
“It could be Heather, with a few tweaks,” Charlie said as he drank his wine. “I’m going to hire a stylist. By the way, I do like the new haircut, but you’ll need a whole new image. Something younger and hotter.”
Heather pushed the pasta around her plate as she listened. Her foot tapped against the wood floor.
“You’ll stay in boutique hotels or take ecotours: adventures in the jungle, kayaking with crocodiles, rafting the big rivers, bungee jumping. No more art galleries and restaurants. Instead you’ll hang glide and scuba dive.”
“Ooh, that sounds fun,” Gina said.
“And how would this work into my contract with the Globe?”
“Well, if they like the idea, you would continue to write for them; if not, they will probably let you out of your contract.”
“You mean I wouldn’t be a writer anymore?”
“Heather, we’re talking television. It�
��s ten times the money and the fame. Who cares if you write your column?”
“He’s right, Heather,” Gina said. “Hasn’t this always been your goal?”
“I guess,” she said. As they ate, she tried to remember when her dreams had changed from wanting to be a writer to a television star. Was this really what she wanted?
Heather shifted the blanket and slipped from the couch in Gina’s living room. The clock read 4:00 in the morning. A dream of Nagog had woken her. She and Tommy were sitting on her deck staring at the stars. Heather thought about brownies with Victoria and Molly, and a smile played on her lips.
Her memories of the summer spilled out like the contents of a suitcase at the end of a vacation. No matter how well she packed the souvenirs, everything couldn’t fit. The bag overflowed, and the only way she could close the zipper was to leave something behind. Heather began to wonder if she’d changed more than she thought over the summer. She couldn’t decide whether to release the old or the new. Strangely, she realized Charlie and his ideas for her career were the old, and the new was the life she’d seen through Victoria’s eyes. She wanted to be like Victoria, strong and independent.
For three hours she paced the apartment, trying to convince herself that Charlie’s plan for her career was right. As she watched the sun rise over Boston Harbor, she opened her phone and called George’s answering machine. “I know it’s early, but I have an idea. I was wondering if you had time to talk with me today? Please call me back as soon as you get this message.” She hung up and stared at the phone. The next call would change everything, but it was time.
“Hi, Charlie,” she said when he answered. “I know you like to get an early start.” She thought about the number of times he’d opened the curtains while she tried to sleep. “Listen, I’ve been up all night thinking about your plans for my career, and to be honest, I don’t agree. I’m not a brand that can be changed by a stylist. I don’t want to bungee jump off a bridge in New Zealand nor do I want to spend the rest of my life with you telling me I’m not good enough. So, before you say anything, you’re fired. I’ll have my lawyer draw up the official letter ending our contract. Good-bye.”
CHAPTER 24
The afternoon air in Nagog smelled of pine and earth as a storm moved in. Fog rose from the lake and covered the woods’ mossy floor. Root beer foamed between the vanilla scoops as Heather poured it into the glass, then spilled over the frosted mug and onto the patio table Molly and Victoria had bought her. Heather sucked at the light brown bubbles and licked the sides of the glass.
The days had grown shorter over the two weeks she’d been gone. Hues of yellow spread from the leaves’ stems; autumn was creeping into Nagog’s landscape. Soon the maples would be painted orange and red. Muggy heat would become a distant memory as blustery cold days forced people to wear sweaters. Heather wouldn’t be here for the foliage this year. She had a new assignment and she’d be leaving in three weeks.
Daniel came out of his house and made his way across the street with chip bags in hand. Music could be heard over the community center’s speakers. Heather watched Molly and Victoria fuss with balloons and streamers as they got out of Molly’s car. Heather had returned this afternoon and hadn’t heard anything about a special occasion.
Amends needed to be made with her neighbors, but they were busy planning a party. There was no need to interfere. There’d be time later to ease her conscience. Sarah walked across the road, a large platter in hand. More cars drove in and parked in front of the building as people hugged and greeted one another.
“No! Let me go. I don’t know you!” Evelyn’s screams came from the road.
“Evelyn, it’s your birthday. Everyone’s waiting for you.” Roger tugged Evelyn’s arm, but her feet remained stuck to the ground in front of Thomas’s house.
“No. I don’t know you.” Evelyn wore a beret and a yellow organza dress.
“All your friends will be disappointed,” Roger said.
“I won’t celebrate without James,” Eveyln said as she tugged away.
“Okay, darling.” Roger hung his head and started to lead her home.
“I need to check the mail.” Evelyn’s face brightened. “I hope there’s a letter from James telling me when he’ll be home on leave.”
Heather looked at the small, stooped couple. What had their marriage been like? Had Evelyn ever been in love with Roger, or had she pined every day for what she’d lost?
Evelyn approached Heather’s deck and waved. “Oh, Maryland, have you heard from James?”
In shock, Heather looked to Roger. His eyes pleaded for help.
“I’ve been away and haven’t checked the mail,” Heather said as she walked toward Evelyn. “Why don’t we look together?”
“Oh, I’ve been so worried. It’s been a few weeks since we’ve heard from him.” Evelyn linked her arm in Heather’s as they walked toward the mailbox. “Soon we’ll be sisters. I chose the lace napkins. I think lace is appropriate for a wedding, don’t you? And my mother says that my grandmother’s pearls will be my something old.”
Heather went to the mailbox and pulled out an airmail envelope that didn’t have a stamp. She handed it to Evelyn and the woman’s eyes lit. She held it as if it were a fragile bird. “Will you open it?” she asked.
Heather took the letter and worked it open with her fingernail. “Do you want me to read it?”
Evelyn nodded with an eager smile.
Dear Evelyn,
I miss you. I think about you every day and dream of our wedding. I’ll be home soon. Know that I love you.
James
It hadn’t been Heather’s best work, but since she hadn’t known the couple, she didn’t want to embellish too much. Tears touched Evelyn’s eyes as she took the letter from Heather and held it to her heart.
“Are you going to the party tonight?” Heather asked.
“Oh, no, not without James.” Evelyn shook her head.
“But Molly spent the whole day baking a cake. She’ll be disappointed.”
Evelyn paused and put her finger against her lip. “I couldn’t upset her. Not when she went through all that trouble. I think we should go.”
They linked arms as they crossed the street and Roger mouthed “Thank you” to Heather. She smiled as she led Evelyn into the building.
Everyone turned and screamed, “Happy birthday!”
“I got a letter today from James. It was in Maryland’s box,” Evelyn announced. “He’s coming home soon.” With that she patted Heather’s arm. People lined up to give Evelyn hugs and Heather stepped away.
The people of the community turned to Heather as they realized what she’d done. Nods of approval came from her neighbors, and even Sarah smiled. Victoria came up and gave her a hug. “Why didn’t any of us think to do that?” she said.
“You can take over while I’m traveling,” Heather said. “I have to leave in three weeks.”
“Where are you headed?”
“On a round-the-world trip for three months.”
“So long? Is it for the book or the television show?” Victoria asked as she handed Heather a cup of punch.
“No. I lost both of those, but I gave my editor the idea for an online video column as well as a written one to show what it’s really like living on the road as a solo female traveler. He loved it and he pitched it to our parent company, The New York Times. Now I’m going to be writing on their travel page as well as having an online presence.”
Victoria hugged her. “Heather, that’s incredible. I’m so proud of you. Have you told Tommy?”
She sighed. “You heard our conversation that day, and I’m certain by now he knows that I yelled at everyone. I don’t think he’ll care.”
“You might be wrong. He’s coming later—why don’t you stick around and see what happens?”
“Hey, Heather,” Carl said. “Mighty nice thing you did for Evelyn.”
“It was nothing.” Heather looked around the room. No one grimaced a
t her. Instead, they smiled. Maybe she had found a way into the community by caring about their lives.
“So how’s your house smelling?” He laughed and patted her on the back. “We missed you around here. There was no one to pick on.”
“Well, you better watch out or I’ll figure out how to make those stink bombs and I’ll leave them in your car,” she teased.
Molly came bustling over and hugged Heather. “I forgot a few things back at my house. Heather, can you help me grab them?”
“Of course.
The wind kicked up as Heather and Molly walked along the road. Dark gray clouds blotted out the sun. The sand blew off the beach and pelted Heather’s exposed calves. She needed to close her windows, but first she’d help Molly.
A new blue truck imprinted with Woodward Architecture, Ltd., pulled into her driveway. Tom stepped down from the cab. He grabbed a present wrapped with a pink bow from the front seat along with large rolls of paper that look like construction documents.
“You know, I don’t think I really need any help,” Molly said to Heather. “Why don’t you go say hello?”
Tommy put his things down on the hood of his truck and walked to join them. He pulled Molly into a hug and then stepped back.
“I’ve got to run and grab something,” Molly said. “I’ll be right back.”
“Hi,” Heather said as Molly hustled away.
“Hey,” Tom said.
“How’s life?” She looked into his eyes and was surprised to see that they reflected sadness.
“Fine. Didn’t expect to see you here.” He looked at the drawings on the hood.
“I fixed the problems I needed to work out,” she said.
“That’s good.” The wind blew hard, and he ran to the truck to grab the papers before they hit the ground. “Look, I need to put this stuff inside and probably wake Grandpa from a nap so he doesn’t miss the party. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Yeah, sure.”