DONNA
Donna stared at her cell phone, her fingers poised over the keys. Once again, Steph hadn’t called like she’d promised, and Donna had a disheartening suspicion that she’d missed another meeting. She’d already left two voice mails asking Steph to check in, but she composed a short text that simply saidCall meand sent it, too.
Feeling helpless and emotionally exhausted, she sank onto the edge of the bed. The strange string of events that evening, from Frida’s unexpected appearance, to sharing her story during the meeting, to winding up alone with Rhett again, had worn down her defenses. She’d wanted to tell him everything—things she’d never told another living soul. When Vick appeared, she wasn’t sure if she felt disappointed or relieved. Or a confusing combination of the two.
Athwackagainst the French door leading to the balcony startled Donna from her thoughts. It sounded like a wayward bird confused by the transparent window pane, but that seemed unlikely at this time of night. Curious, she tugged open the door and stepped into the moonlight.
A small red and white fishing float glinted at her feet. She crouched, inspecting a slip of paper attached to a hook at the end of the line. Her heartbeat thrummed erratically as she read the scrawled handwriting.
Meet me on the lawn behind the gazebo.
Her pulse quickened, skipping a few beats, as her gaze followed the line over the railing to an abandoned fishing rod below. Whoever had wielded it must have waited for her to open the door before disappearing from sight. She squinted in the distance but couldn’t see beyond the garden’s murky periphery. Who awaited her in the darkness? She knew who shewantedit to be, but there was one other possibility. In truth, ever since she’d arrived in town, she’d wondered if this moment would come. If she’d finally have to face her demons.
She shrugged on a light sweater, anxiety churning in her stomach. What would she do? What would she say? She’d envisioned this scenario before, rehearsing every word, every line until she knew them all by heart. Of course, it was always a one-sided conversation. A cleansing release in the safety of solitude. She never anticipated they’d reach their intended audience.
Her slip-on sneakers barely made a sound as she padded across the plush grass in the dim moonlight, but her heart pounded loudly in the silence, nearly bursting when she rounded the gazebo. Her steps stalled, relief spilling from every pore at the familiar silhouette before her.
Rhett reclined on a wool blanket, both arms propped behind his head like a pillow as he stared up at the stars. When he heard her approach, he scrambled to a seated position.
She couldn’t help the smile in her voice as she asked, “What are you doing here?”
“I thought we could try again. Since my son has a habit of interrupting us.” He gestured to a Coleman thermos nestled on the edge of the blanket. “I brought hot chocolate.”
“You drive a hard bargain,” she teased, easing down beside him.
He stretched onto his back again, and she followed suit, careful not to lie too close. But even two feet apart, his pine-scented soap mingled with the faint aroma of sweet vanilla emanating from the nearby clematis blossoms, tempting her to distraction. She kept her gaze pinned overhead, studying the swathe of midnight-blue sky dotted with stars. A tiny spark of light shot across the expanse, catching her eye before it fizzled from existence.
Rhett must’ve witnessed it, too, because he smiled and said, “Make a wish.”
Donna closed her eyes, but not to make a wish. She hoped to suppress an unwelcome memory before it crowded her mind. But as she lay still, her palms grazing the soft wool, she could hear her father’s comforting voice rousing her from sleep. She could feel his large, calloused hands tugging her out of bed, guiding her down the stairs then out to the front lawn. They’d lain side by side, gazing upward as meteors danced across the sky in a shower of sparkling light. Her heart had ached as each falling star seemed to represent the fragility of life. If the doctors were right, her father’s light would soon follow their lead, vanishing from the world.
With every falling star, he’d told her to make a wish. And with every falling star, she’d made the same one. But not even the most skilled oncologists could make it come true.
At the telltale tightness in the back of her throat, Donna quickly diverted the discussion away from stars and wishes. “It’s so peaceful out here. I could fall asleep like this.” Crickets chirped a melodic lullaby, and the cool, crisp air swept across her cheeks like a gentle caress.
“I often sleep outside,” he admitted. “In a nylon hammock. It’s one of the only things that helps my insomnia.”
Donna turned her head, studying the shadowy outline of his profile. “You have trouble sleeping?”
“Ever since the robbery.” His words escaped in a hushed confession, and she once again marveled at his openness. No topic seemed off-limits, as if he wanted her to know him, deep down to his core. And it made her want to be equally forthcoming in return.
“I’m so sorry,” she told him sincerely. “I don’t know how I’d function without sleep.” She’d had her fair share of nights she’d lain awake, agonizing over her guilt and regrets, and the following days were all the more miserable.
“It’s not as bad as it used to be.” His tone took on a far-off quality, as if he’d momentarily revisited the past. “My first week in prison, my cellie—”
“Cellie?” she asked.
“Prison slang for cellmate,” he clarified. “He went by Spider, although I think his real name was Carl. He wasn’t horrible, all things considered. Could’ve been a lot worse. But he’s the one who got me hooked on—” Rhett paused, shifting his weight before adding, “Sleeping pills.”
Donna turned her gaze back to the stars, sensing he needed a moment to gather his next words. But she scooted a few inches closer, letting him know she wasn’t going anywhere.
“I declined the first time he offered, not wanting to get mixed up in his shady side business. Besides, I had no way of knowing the brand, correct dosage, if they were laced with something dangerous, or anything pertinent someone should know before taking a prescription medication. All I knew was that he had someone smuggle them in somehow, then he’d use them as currency to buy protection and other harder drugs. I didn’t want any part in it.”
“What changed?” she asked gently.
A long pause followed her question, punctuated by the occasional rustling of the trees. When Rhett finally spoke, his voice resonated with a raw, gravelly edge she’d never heard before, as if the words scratched his throat on their way out.
“Everything. The day I got divorce papers from my wife, I knew I’d never see her or my son again. It was all over. In an instant, I’d lost everything that ever mattered to me. And I stopped caring. About anything. At first, I started taking the pills to sleep. Then I’d take half a pill in the morning, too. It made me numb to the world, able to function but never fully present.” Pain etched his features, and she scooted next to him, instinctively placing a hand over his. His skin felt warm against the cool night air, and as he laced his fingers through hers, she sensed his need through his touch—the need to be known by another sentient soul, wholly and completely.
