Hugo watched her for a beat, then asked, “How’s she doing?”
“Great!” Marigold said automatically. “She’s starting this new miracle drug.”
But for some reason, the words didn’t give her the boost they normally did, and Marigold felt the familiar stirring in her chest, the one she’d become adroit at neutralizing with some kind of distraction—an extravagant shopping spree in SoHo, an impromptu drive to Montauk at two a.m., an evening that started with drinks at the Carlyle and ended with a sunrise photo shoot on an abandoned pier in New Jersey.
The dark thoughts only slipped past her defenses when things were still and silent, when she was afraid of waking Jonathan up after a long day. She recognized the irony; there was no one better equipped to listen to her fears than an empathetic oncologist trained to have the most difficult conversations imaginable. He wouldn’t flinch at the questions that filled thesilence between heartbeats when there were no other sounds to drown them out.
Marigold pulled her knees up to her chest, and a moment later, Hugo sat up and scooched over so he was sitting next to her, just close enough for their upper arms to touch. Without thinking, she leaned into him and stayed like that for a long moment, feeling the warmth of his body seep into hers. Knowing that he wouldn’t move until she did, wouldn’t speak until she did. After a few minutes, the knot in her chest began to loosen, and she felt she could breathe again.
The door creaked open, and Humphrey burst into the room, nails skittering on the hardwood floor. “Let’s take him out,” Marigold said, rising to her feet. “Can I borrow a jacket?”
They headed to the closet by the front door where Hugo produced a fleece for Marigold, and a black hoodie for himself. She watched him zip it up, then burst out laughing. “What?” he asked, confused.
“I didn’t realize you were such a big Nickelback fan.”
“Who isn’t? They’re one of Canada’s greatest treasures.”
“You have got to be kidding me. Tell me you’re kidding.”
“It was in the lost-and-found box at the boatyard for a long time, and I was cold one day, so I took it.”
“Hugo, you cannot wear that.”
“Why not?”
“It’s literally the most embarrassing sweatshirt I’ve seen in my entire life.”
“I literally couldn’t care less. It’s really warm, and I wear it to walk my dog. Who’s gonna judge me?”
“Oh, trust me, even Humphrey’s embarrassed.”
Hugo opened the door and Humphrey dashed out to run afew circles on the lawn while he waited for them to catch up. “You coming?”
“Yes,” Marigold grumbled. “But I’ll have you know, that sweatshirt alone is grounds for an annulment.”
“Who are you worried about impressing?”
“No one. I’m just giving you a little friendly fashion advice.”
Hugo began to sing quietly. “Save tonight, and fight the break of dawn. Come tomorrow, tomorrow I’ll be gone…”
“Okay, that’s not Nickelback.”
“No? Who is it, then?”
“Eagle-Eye Cherry, I think?”
“Guess I should probably get one of their sweatshirts.”
“Oh god, please don’t.”
“So what’s Nickelback’s big song?”
“I truly have no idea.”
“And yet you somehow find it embarrassing. That makes sense.” Hugo pulled out his phone and opened Spotify. “Aha, here we go.” The opening chords of a vaguely familiar song rang out as Hugo murmured along. “It’s not like you… ba doo dum… say sorry…”
Marigold covered her ears. “Please stop.”
