Rose, who had been taking hard lessons in composure for several weeks now, managed to absorb these facts without demonstrating surprise or concern.
“Where is Boyd?” she asked. “You didn’t let him get back on the roof, did you?”
Ximena shook her head. “He’s filming videos about thework that still needs to be done here. If it worked for roofers, seems like maybe we could get a real A/V specialist to wire the basement?”
“Would you be willing to go get him?” Rose asked. “I need his help to get Tom up the stairs.”
“How is Tom?” Ximena asked.
“Grumpy,” Rose informed her. “But he’ll live.”
When she went back to the car, Rose found that Tom had managed to get himself out, and he was gazing up at the late-night construction with a bemused expression on his face.
“Are those real roofers?” he asked.
“I think so,” she replied.
Tom paused, expression shuttered. “And are they going to fix the whole roof?”
“Apparently it was your dying wish,” Rose said.
They both looked up and regarded the roofers as they worked to render the inn waterproof for the first time in months.
“I really thought I could do something for you out here,” Tom repeated glumly.
Rose rubbed his back through his shirt. She didn’t care, but she didn’t think he wanted to hear that right now. “You know, I only askedyoufor help. I didn’t have anyone else to ask. And everyone else who came out is because of you. So, you know, in a way, everything they’ve done…that’s because of you too.”
“Huh,” said Tom. After a moment, he slung a heavy arm over Rose’s shoulders. When she peeked back up at him, his face was spreading into a weary grin. “I guess I did do it then.”
“You did what?”
“The roof. I told you. I said I’d get the roof fixed, and I did.” He beamed at her.
Rose giggled and elbowed him lightly in the ribs. “Youdid?”
“I did! Look, the roof’s getting fixed, and you thought I’d flaked out again. But I got Boyd’s weirdos to do it. Say you were wrong.”
“Of course. This was part of the master plan. You lured Boyd out onto the roof, then fell off it just so that you could appeal to the sympathies of the hardworking roofers of West Tisbury,” she said, helpless to resist mirroring Tom’s smile.
“Don’t question my methods, just my results,” he said, tipping his head back and laughing. “But if I’m ever actually dying, I’m telling you now that I don’t want a roof. I want hard drugs and sexual favors.”
“I’ll see what my cat tranquilizer guy can do,” Rose said, going up on her tiptoes to kiss the smirk off Tom’s face before Boyd and the inn crowd could approach. He rubbed the tip of his nose into her cheek, and she squeaked in a less than dignified way.
Boyd’s expression was sheepish as he came over to support Tom’s arm, and he seemed to anticipate being yelled at. He probably deserved to be yelled at. Tom had Rose, at least, but who kept Boyd from acts of Florida Man peril?
Tom looked up at the roof a last time, then reached out to pull the other man into a hug. Tom had recovered from enough of his Florida Man socialization that he didn’t cut it off with any performative back slapping and arm punching. He gave Boyd a real hug, hard and earnest, and then he patted him on the chest.
“Thanks, bud,” Tom said, to the dramatic sighs of nearby teenage girls. But he was sincere. “I mean it. Thank you for this.”
Boyd didn’t smile in any of his movies that Rose had ever seen, but he smiled then. “You’re welcome,” he said.
The whole crowd flowed into the inn and then up the main staircase.
They were completely booked. The fangirls were stacked up two and three to a room and filled the third-floor bunk room as well. Ximena, Boyd, and Tom had each been assigned a queen bedroom, and Rose had the suite. The inn was completely full for the first time since Rose was a small child, and the hallway rang with a dull background roar of female chatter, phone notifications, and hammering from the roof.
It was a wonderful din, Rose thought. She’d lived in New York for the past decade; she couldn’t sleep if it was too quiet. All these noises were good noises.
Tom and Boyd made it to the landing, and Tom considered the long hallway of doors. The single room where he’d been sleeping. The suite.
