I shake my head, not knowing where to begin. We were sporadically in touch for a few years after Seth’s death, but when I stopped coming here, we naturally drifted apart. I don’t remember which of us reached out last—I just know that the line went dead. In those years, I was so focused on whatIhad lost that I never stopped to consider what it must have been like for Chloe to lose me.
When we agreed to hang out today, I had worried it might be awkward, but there is a comfort between us that has endured. After all, Chloe already knows about the darkest part of my life. If she were going to judge me, she would have done that long ago. And if she were still mad that I distanced myself, she probably wouldn’t be here now.
I give her the rundown of my last few years, and eventually, I look down at her ring, fearing the worst. “Are you and Greg…?”
She furrows her brow and gives me a stern look. “Cricket, please. Greg was like”—she counts on her fingers—“four… no, five boyfriends ago. We’re still friendly, but he doesn’t come here anymore. Didn’t you know that?”
“I heard something.”
“His dad got caught up in a financial scandal—shocker—and his parents got divorced. They’re trying to sell the house, if you’re in the market…”
We laugh at the thought of me taking up residence across the pond, and Chloe fills me in on the contours of her life. She’s only in town for a few more days because her employer is stingy with vacation time, but she plans to spend a whole month here next summer. She is engaged to a guy named Franklin (“the absolute best”). They live in Boston, and they have a Shiba Inu named Romy. They’re getting married next May in Maine—she says I should come.
For the next few hours, we talk as if we are still just kids on a dock. I don’t know what I was so afraid of. Being with Chloe doesn’t make me feel exposed—it makes me feel known. It’s not that I haven’t had friendships since abandoning Catwood Pond a decade ago, but they were often fleeting or based on short-term commonalities—a shared job, a shared love of boozy brunches, a shared inability to pay for decent housing in New York City. In the years after Seth’s death and my parents’ divorce, it was hard for me to process what I was going through, let alone convey it to new friends. I had been close with Olivia and Tasha for a few years, but I had never told them the full story about Seth. I preferred to keep things light, some might say superficial. But in holding parts of my life back from my friends, I ended up disconnecting from myself.
Chloe and I dip in and out of the pond as we talk, cooling down, then drying off, then repeating the cycle until the sun has nearly completed its afternoon arc through the sky.
Finally, Chloe brings up Seth. “You know, no one blames you for what happened.” She pauses. “Well, maybe Greg did, for a second, but he was just being an asshole.”
I nod.
“Everyone really missed you when you stopped coming here. People still ask me about you. I always wished I had something to tell them. And now I do.” She looks at me. “I can tell them you’re doing great.”
“Ha!” I laugh louder than I expect to.
“What?” she says, serious. “You and your dad are singlehandedly revitalizing the economy of Locust. You’re back in the place that you love, doing interesting things. And you look really good. Like, you look hot.”
I laugh again, enjoying the view of myself through Chloe’s eyes. “I’m glad you think I’m thriving.”
“Are you dating anyone?” She looks hungry for some good gossip.
I look around. “Who would I date? I live at Catwood Pond.”
“Fair. But Cricket”—she leans in—“youhavehad sex, right?”
“Yes. Of course.” I slap some water at her. But after a moment, I add, “I’m not sure if I’ve ever hadgoodsex…”
“Oh, well, that’s normal. I hadn’t either, until I met Franklin. But you will, once you get back out there.”
“I don’t know if I’m datable anymore,” I say. “I’ve become pretty feral out here in the woods.”
“I mean, you could probably use a bang trim.” Chloe leans back, sizing me up. “But I like the two-tone hair. It’s sort of… ungovernable.”
“That’s me.”
I lean my head into her shoulder as we stare across the pond, and she drapes her arm around me. It feels as though we are part of the landscape, just like any other element: the water, the trees, the sky, and the girls on the dock.
I feel more than reassured. I feel rooted.
Chapter 36
That evening, my mother calls. When I see her name pop up on my phone, I brace myself for her to admonish me the way Nina had.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Well, I read the article. What a hoot!”
A hoot?
