Out on the veranda, they greeted the rest of the Colemans who’d gathered for the day: Hilary’s husband Marc, who was feeling better today; Charlie and his wife and their kids and grandkids; Darcy’s stepfather, Derek, as well as his brother Patrick and his wife Sophie. Sophie was Roland’s brother, Grant’s, granddaughter, which tied up their families neatly. Sophie’s kids ran around on the sand, happy as clams, while Sophie and her sister Katrina gossiped and sipped iced tea, waving to Darcy and her family as they entered. It looked like the Martha’s Vineyard Colemans hadn’t made it over, which was just as well. Sometimes, when there were too many of them around, Darcy felt overwhelmed.
Burgers were cooking on the grill. Darcy was handed a plate with a cheeseburger and some homemade onion rings, which pleased her. She sliced everything up into smaller pieces so that Remy could eat from her plate, too. Gavin ate his burger faster than anyone else and asked for a second.
“He’s growing!” Hilary grinned. “I don’t know what it’s like to have a little boy. It must be crazy.”
Darcy laughed and said it was.
Under her breath, Hilary said, “I talked to your mom this morning. She said she thinks your grandmother snuck out of the apartment in Paris during the night.”
Although Darcy was preoccupied with Remy, she still felt her mouth drop. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m not.” Hilary laughed.
“Where did she go?” Darcy asked.
“She suspects that she snuck out to see a man,” Hilary said, speaking quietly so as to keep this gossip close. “Apparently, there’s a fan who comes to a lot of Mom’s readings. Some guy they met in New York.”
Darcy remembered the older gentleman she’d spoken to outside the bookstore, the one with the pipe. She remembered how he hadn’t spoken to his children in years and felt a stab of worry. Before she could verbalize it, Remy wiggled off her lap and sped after Gavin, down the steps and toward the beach below. Darcy got up and called after Remy, forgetting that Remy couldn’t hear her. Remy kept running after her brother, her face stern.
“The young ones love their older siblings,” Hilary said, as though that was that.
But Darcy didn’t like how fast Remy was running. In the water, some of the older Colemans were floating, splashing, and swimming around. It looked as though Remy wanted to join them, rather than join her brother.
“Remy!” Darcy screamed. But of course, it was no use.
And it was at that moment, as she scrambled for the stairs and hurried after her deaf daughter, that the full weight of everything pressed on Darcy’s chest. She burst into tears. She felt she couldn’t protect her daughter from the enormity of the world. She couldn’t handle any of it.
Right before Remy dove into the waves—despite not being able to swim herself—Sophie Coleman swept over to her andpicked her up, saving her. She laughed and bounced the girl on her hip. “She’s a fast one!” she called to Darcy as Darcy approached.
But Darcy couldn’t stop crying. She took her daughter into her arms and clung to her so hard that Remy began to cry, too. She could feel all the Colemans watching her from the beach and from the veranda above. Embarrassment made her judgment feel cloudy. Had she overreacted? She couldn’t remember. Her tears made Remy’s dress all wet.
Back upstairs, Hilary ushered Darcy and Remy into the dark kitchen, where she poured Darcy a mug of tea and watched her expectantly. It was as though she knew Darcy had something to share.
“I’m sorry I panicked like that,” Darcy said.
“You don’t have to apologize,” Hilary said. “But Darcy, honey. We’re family. You should tell me what’s going on, so I can help you.”
Darcy pressed her lips together. Remy was quiet, her cheeks red. She knew she’d done something wrong. But how could Darcy tell her that? How could Darcy begin to parent? She’d googled “sign language for toddlers,” but the idea of learning a language and also teaching that language to Remy boggled her mind. Maybe she wasn’t cut out for this.
Finally, Darcy came out with the truth. She told Hilary about the diagnosis, about what might happen next. Hilary listened without showing panic on her face. But when Darcy was finished, Hilary said, “I think you should see someone, Darcy. To talk about this.”
“We already have a doctor,” Darcy said.
“A therapist,” Hilary corrected. “I think you should be thinking about your own mental health, as you navigate Remy through this. Steven should think about his, too.”
Hilary recommendeda family therapist on the island, a woman in her mid-forties who’d helped Hilary through a few difficult times and was incredibly discreet. Darcy made an appointment for three days after the family barbecue. She feared the worst.
When she entered the office, she found a short and muscular woman waiting for her on a cushioned chair. The woman, Dr. Orson, got up and shook her hand. “Welcome, Darcy,” she said. “Pleasure to meet you.”
Darcy thought she’d seen this woman around the island before. Maybe she’d seen her at the grocery store, or at the beach, or at a restaurant. Maybe Dr. Orson had seen Darcy and Rachelle, giggling madly as they bopped around downtown together. Maybe Dr. Orson already knew more about Darcy than Darcy knew about her.
Just as she had with Aunt Hilary, Darcy told Dr. Orson about Remy’s diagnosis and her fears for Remy’s future. But not long after they’d begun their session, Darcy found herself talking about Rachelle, about how much she missed her sister, about how much she blamed her sister for leaving and never coming back.
“I feel like she split up our family,” Darcy breathed. “I hate that I blame her for that, but the blame is there, and it’s not going away.”
“When was the last time you spoke with Rachelle?” Dr. Orson asked.
Darcy considered this. “I’m pretty sure we talked on the phone after my grandfather passed away. Rachelle came for the funeral, but we didn’t speak very much. Everything was chaotic.My children were even younger than they are now, and I kept a wide berth.”
