One morning halfway through June she finds an envelope with money in it on the little kitchen table when she gets out of bed to start the coffee. (Even this—coffee for two! Waking up next to somebody without a hangover, without shame or regret—feels like a little gift every single day.) She turns on the coffeepot and climbs back into bed, snaking her arm around Danny’s back, pressing the envelope against his bare chest.
“What’s this?” she asks, half worried that Danny is paying her for sex.
He turns to her, opens one eye and smiles. “My share of the rent,” he says. “Want me to make eggs?” Danny has a real way with eggs—he chops scallions and melts cheddar into them, or cooks them with tomatoes and minced basil. He fries them with a perfect crisp of olive oil and puts them between wedges of ciabatta from Atlantic Baking Company. Kristie, who has worked so long in restaurants, subsisting mainly on family meals made for the staff before shifts started, isn’t much of a cook.
She peeks in the envelope. “No way,” she says. “This is way more than half. Take it back.”
“Utilities, then.”
“Utilities are included.” She wants Danny to be able to save enough to become his own Gil, the way he wants to be. And yet. She’s worried about money all the time. She’s working as hard as she can at Archer’s, and the tips are good, but she’s not sure how she’ll ever get ahead. She doesn’t understand how anybody gets ahead who didn’t start out ahead. She thinks about the kids running across the grass at Ships View, from the massive house to their very own stretch of water.Thosekids started out ahead. Everybody in that house started out ahead. Kristie started out behind, and behind she remains.
“I’m not taking it back,” says Danny. “So either you keep it, or I guess I could throw it out the window.”
“Thank you,” she whispers into his shoulder. In Miami Beach she paid most of the rent for her and Jesse’s apartment. Jesse made a lot of money bartending, more than she did as a server, which was saying a lot, but money flowed out of Jesse like water out of a bucket with a hole. When he was wasted or high he bought round after round for people he didn’t know. He bought expensive drugs. He bought motorcycles and clothes. Tears prick her eyes at Danny’s thoughtfulness, at his not-Jesse-ness.
There’s more. The kitchen faucet breaks, and Danny fixes it. There are bare spots in the lawn and Danny sprinkles grass seed on them, watering them diligently until they begin to grow, even though the lawn is not Kristie’s responsibility. He asks her if he thinks the landlord would mind if he planted a row of begonias along the front of the building. Gil had extra from one of the houses on North Shore Drive and he gave them to Danny. “I’d just hate to see them die,” he says. “They’re hardy. They’re survivors, that’s why I like them.”
“Go ahead,” says the landlord, when Kristie asks him.
She watches out the window as Danny puts the plants in the ground, settling the dirt gently around each of them, giving them a comforting pat. She thinks,I am falling in love with this man.She knows that is not what she came here for—but knowing that doesn’t appear to be stopping her.
On Kristie’s nights off they watch Netflix—Danny has a subscription. They make it through season one ofOzarkand begin season two. Sometimes they go out to dinner. They’ve been to Ada’s Kitchen and In Good Company and Claws, where you order at the counter and eat at picnic tables looking out at the harbor. Kristie can’t believe that she’s only been in Maine a little over three weeks. She can’t believe she’s the same person who once lived in Miami Beach, underrested, undernourished, overpartied.
They spend a lot of time in bed. Danny’s the first lover she’s had for any length of time while she’s been sober, and she marvels at the time they take with each other. She marvels at the way she can feel each of his quad muscles; she marvels at the strength of his back and biceps from all of the time he spends working outside. She marvels at how much he admires her body, and how much she wants him to.
The house Danny recently sold, she learns, he had shared with his ex-girlfriend, Elizabeth, who cheated on him with Danny’s bestfriend, Stu. How couldanyonecheat on Danny? she wonders. He isperfect.
When they lie in bed waiting for sleep he traces circles on the inside of her elbow and tells her stories about all the houses he works at with Gil. There’s a six-bedroom in Rockport that used to be a Methodist church, and a waterfront Owls Head beauty with a barrel-vaulted-ceiling porch looking out over a quarter-acre annual garden edged against a sandy beach. There are homes in Camden with Olympic-size swimming pools and harbor views. Kristie tries to ask questions about all of them, but, of course, the only one she wants to know about is Ships View. What is the family like? How about the matriarch, Annie, what’sshelike? And her husband? Danny has said he’s not well, there are health care people about, but he doesn’t know the specifics. The family is private.
“But what do you think he’s sick with?” she asks. “If you had to guess.”
“Hey hey, Nosy Nellie,” says Danny. “Why so fascinated?” He kisses her on the top of the head, and her heart starts to beat faster, and she reminds herself to be careful.
“Rich people are interesting,” she says. “I’d just love to see that house again, that’s all. It really spoke to me.”
“One rich person,” Danny says, “has more problems than people like us put together. I guarantee it.”
“I don’t know about that,” says Kristie.
One day they are planning to shop for groceries at Hannaford, but Danny gets a call from Mrs. Fitzgerald, who wants him to come and work through yet another to-do list. There’s an outdoor lightbulb that’s burned out and requires a trip up a long ladder; there’s a hornet’s nest under the porch; the latch on the gate that leads to the water is broken. The money the Fitzgeralds pay Danny is too good to turn down—but, he says, he’s sure Gil wouldn’t mind if Kristie used the truck while Danny works. Shecan drop him off, do the grocery shopping, and swing back by for him after.
“Really?”
“Sure. You’re a good driver, right?”
“I’m anexcellentdriver. And my sense of direction is known the world over.” She pulls down the gravel drive at Ships View and idles, waiting for Danny to get out.
“Do you have a second? I want to show you something.”
Her breath quickens. “Here? At this house?”
“In the garden. The peonies are blooming, I want you to see them. They bloom early in the season, and then they’re gone. Poof.”
She puts the truck in park and follows Danny around the side yard. She can’t believe she’sthis closetothis house. She also can’t believe, now that she’s seeing more of it, how near this house is to the water. She imagines that from the upstairs bedrooms you might not be able to see the slender stretch of grass that lies between the house and the rocky coast; you might feel as though you’re on a ship. Just imagine, waking up every day in a house like this. Just imagine. These people have problems?
The garden Danny leads her to is on the far side of the yard and is encircled by gray rocks. “Here,” says Danny proudly. “These are officially called Peonia Sonoma Welcome. I’ve been trying to grow this variety forever, but I’ve never gotten it to take.” The flowers are the palest, palest pink, nearly white, on the outside and a darker pink toward the center. They are really lovely. Danny crouches down and gently touches one of the leaves. He’s as tender with it as one might be with a newborn, with a kitten.
“They’re beautiful,” says Kristie. “They really are.” Then she has an idea. “Danny?” she says. “I’m sorry, this is awkward, but I really need the bathroom. Really badly. Do you think I could pop inside the house quickly? Before I go to the store? I drank too much coffee.” She waits—has she gone too far? Danny is still inspecting the peonies. His brow is furrowed. “Danny?”
