Adrian wrinkled his aristocratic nose at her. “Really?” he asked, great skepticism in his voice.
“What,” she said. “No? We literally didn’t speak.”
“I guess you didn’t see him mope for the last decade. See thebothof you moping. God, it’s been difficult. For me, especially.”
She elbowed Adrian in the ribs. “You could have told me,” she said.
“I said I thought you two should get coffee when he moved back to New York. I said that twice! What, was I supposed to say, ‘Rose, you realize you’re the love of his life, please take him back and put him out of my misery’?”
“Yes, that. That second thing, that would have been helpful to hear,” she said dryly.
She groaned and rubbed her face with her palms. Everyone seemed to think this would be easy, and she knew it wouldn’t be.
Feeling that under the circumstances she could take liberties, she put her head on Adrian’s shoulder.
“What if,” she said in a small voice, finally giving words to her real worry, “it’s just too much for him to handle? We just started seeing each other again after ten years. I made him do three months of renovations in a different state. Now I’m going to ask him to help me take care of my aunt? Maybe forever? That would be too much for alotof people. And I’m not even asking him to do it.”
Adrian sighed and crossed his arms without dislodging her. He didn’t do easy platitudes, which was one of his better qualities. He looked out the window in the direction of the train station.
“You know, Tom’s always told this story that he’s a big screwup,” he said thoughtfully. “He told Caroline that when they met, and he still believes that, somehow. Because he messed up with you. None of the rest of it—this movie star he’sfriends with, the Broadway show—it doesn’t really count for him. He just wanted to be married to you.”
Adrian gingerly reached across his body to pat the top of her head, a thing that only he could have gotten away with.
“I think you should let him tell a different story about himself. Because he always knew that getting married meant this was what he was signing up for. It’s not too much. It’s what he always expected he’d do if someone he loved needed help.” He ducked his head, trying to make her look at him. “And he loves you.”
Rose’s eyes watered. How was she supposed to believe in a love she didn’t have to work for? What did that even look like? She wanted Tom with her. Even more than that, she wanted him happy.
She exhaled through her nose, added Tom’s keys to her key chain, then opened up the giant envelope Tom had left her, expecting it to be full of lease paperwork.
To her surprise, it was instead filled with greeting cards, some pastel envelopes printed with Max’s name, others with hers. Thank-you cards for Rose and get well soon cards for Max from Ximena, Boyd, and the girls. It was sweet of Tom to bring them up.
She used the corner of her key chain to open them up, flipping through Hallmark inanities until a folded piece of paper fell out of the card signed by Snow Wolf and the Great Puffin. Rose shot a cautious glance at Adrian before she unfolded it, but for once Puff’s work was G-rated.
It was a beautiful colored pencil drawing of Tom, Rose, and Boyd in the style of a 1970s family Christmas portrait. Tomand Rose, wearing matching Fair Isle sweaters, were posed with their hands on Boyd’s shoulders. Boyd, seated in this composition, clutched a wild turkey in his giant muscular arms as though holding the family cocker spaniel. Everyone was smiling.
“The draftsmanship is pretty good,” Adrian said, casting a professional eye over the work.
“Puff’s very talented,” Rose said, feeling delirious tears spring to the corners of her eyes.
“It’s a little weird though,” he added.
Snowy had written an inscription at the bottom:My parents who raised me.
“So fucking weird,” Rose agreed, a laugh coming out of her throat like a sob.
Thanks, girls. I don’t think Boyd needs parenting, but somehow I do think Max and I will be cooking him keto-friendly side dishes this Thanksgiving while Tom falls off the inn’s roof hanging Christmas lights.
None of Rose’s plans had ever worked out the way she thought they would, but, then again, their little adventure in West Tisbury had happened wonderfully and unexpectedly. She’d asked Tom to come with her, thinking it would be a punishment for him and a chore for her, and instead he’d brought so many weird and beautiful things back into her life. All the music and laughter and love and sex that had been painfully missing for the last decade. She’d never seen it coming. And she wouldn’t trade it for anything.
She didn’t know what it would look like if she and Max just picked up and told Tom to build them a new life in New York,but she believed he’d do it for her. It would be just as wonderful and unexpected as every day since Tom had careened back into her life. And finally Tom might feel both forgiven and loved.
Rose stood up and opened her mouth to shout for someone to find Max’s shoes because she wasn’t spending one more night without Tom. But when she looked down at her watch, she realized he would already be on the last train out of Boston, and, once again, she’d told him to go when she didn’t mean it at all.
30
New York
Tech week was always the process of turning chaos into order, but a general sense of impending doom clung to the cast and crew ofAll’s Well That Bends Well. The quick changes were running ten seconds too slow. The props table had been mislabeled, and two other actors were about to strangle each other over custody of an antique champagne flute. Tom had tripped over the wiring for a practical lamp while the assistant stage manager was hunting down more gaff, and now his knee hurt again. They’d been held over for bonus rehearsals of the final scene, and even Boyd was beginning to look a little sulky because Ximena kept fumbling the cue to sweep him into a dramatic clinch at the climax of their love declarations.
