“Doing what?”
“It sounds a little silly maybe, but when I finished high school, I wanted to move to New York and perform on Broadway. I was sure I was the next Liza Minnelli. I was already with Dennis by then, if you can imagine. He wanted to stay here and get into island politics.”
“Did you ever think about going anyway? On your own?”
“I did. But I couldn’t give up Dennis,” Eunice sighs. “Besides, I never really was much of an actress.”
We both laugh and she bumps her shoulder to mine. “Can’t sing worth a darn either.”
“No, I’ve heard you at the pub. You’re very good.”
“Good at pub music. Not Broadway tunes.”
I stare at her for a second, trying to imagine her as a new graduate. “Do you ever wish you had tried?”
“Some days, in my grouchy, ‘nobody appreciates me’ moments that we all have from time to time. For the most part, though, I’m happy. I’m surrounded by family and friends. We have a good life. We’re healthy. Plus, you know, I’ve managed to bring my own sense of flair to this little corner of the world, even if I’ve never lit up a stage in New York.”
“You really have. If South Haven were a play, you’d definitely be one of the most memorable characters in the cast.”
“Why, thank you, Abby. That’s very kind of you.”
“It’s true.”
She tilts her head and stares at me for a second. “I take it you’re not living the life you wanted?”
I sigh. “Obviously if I could have my husband back, I would. But it’s more than that. I’m scared that maybe the choices I made when I was younger aren’t the ones I’d make again.”
“You’re like most people, then.”
“I suppose I am. But in my case, there’s no way to fix it. It’s too late.”
“Is it?” She gives me a skeptical look. “Did you know, for the last three years, I’ve played Mrs. Cratchit in the local production ofA Christmas Carol?”
“Really?”
She pats me on the leg, then stands. “It’s not Broadway, but it’s a hell of a lot of fun.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
You get what you settle for.
~ Louise Sawyer, Thelma and Louise
For the next week, I am completely unsettled. Isaac doesn’t come back to me in my sleep, and as batshit crazy as it sounds, I can’t help but wonder if he knows what I did and he’s so hurt, I’ll never see him again. When I go to bed, I’m desperate to find him so I can tell him how sorry I am. And it’s not just about the ring, and it’s not just about how angry I was with him. It’s about whatever it is I’m feeling for Liam.
I don’t think I’m falling in love with him—at least I hope to hell and back I’m not. But there’s a relentless pull to Liam that gets harder to fight each day. I look forward to seeing him each morning. I want to know his opinions on nearly every topic under the sky. I rush to him when I’ve written an especially good chapter because I want to share my excitement with him. He high fives me when I need to celebrate, and he gives me a shot in the arm when I’m losing my gusto.
But more than that, our friendship is the most honest one I’ve had, and I think it’s because I started out with nothing to lose. Other than a brief second of sucking in my gut, I don’t try to pretend I’m someone I’m not. I’m me—like it or leave it. And if I’m not mistaken, he seems to like me. Not me, as I present myself to the world, or me, as a woman trying to impress a man. Just me. Crying Abby. Angry Abby. Abby the Hermit.
And all of that is scaring the shit out of me. The old me would say ‘we don’t flirt, we joke around,’ but the new, improved me can admit that we definitely flirt. A lot. And I like it. Which makes me feel absolutely fucking awful. Between the flirting and tossing my husband’s wedding ring into the sea, I’m pretty sure I’m the world’s worst wife.
Which is why every morning this week, I set my alarm for five a.m. and hurry down to search the beach before Liam and Olive arrive for the day. Then, I walk home empty-handed, the bright sunshine and blue sky mocking me.
Yesterday, I was so exhausted by the middle of the afternoon that I suggested Olive and I have a ‘movie afternoon.’ I turned onFreaky Friday, then promptly fell asleep on the couch, only to wake up to find her and Liam both staring at me. The movie had been over for a while, I guess, and it was already time for them to go home. I ended up telling Liam how I’d been spending the early morning hours and why. Even though he tried to sound supportive, I could tell by his expression he doesn’t think I have a prayer, and I’m sure he’s right.
But this morning, my feet propel me along in my search anyway, and I return just as they arrive. I can hear the front door opening as soon as I walk in the back.
“Walt? Where are you?” Olive calls. “There you are!”
