“Yes,” said Paros. “Very much. Enjoy your breakfast, ma’am.”
“I’ve never been to a Greek island. I’m really looking forward to it.”
“Mrs. Perkins, have you ever had honey and yogurt for your breakfast?” said Paros.
“Please, call me Charlotte.”
“If you like,” said Paros.
“I do. And I’m a widow, by the way.”
“My sympathies,” said Paros. “My wife has also passed away.”
They looked at each other for a moment. Could he possibly be interested in her? In moving close enough to touch? Charlotte berated herself—she was an old woman. She knew that no one saw her as an object of desire. Yet how she wished that Paros’s formality was because he was at work, or unfamiliar with English. Or maybe—just maybe—nervous.
“Honey and yogurt?” said Paros. “Have you had honey and yogurt for breakfast?”
Charlotte knew he wasn’t flirting. He couldn’t be. Could he be? She felt giddy. “No,” she said. “I don’t believe I have. I’m a fan of English muffins for the most part.”
Zip it!Charlotte admonished herself.A fan of English muffins?
“I can bring you Greek honey,” said Paros. “My daughter makes it. It’s darker than American honey. It tastes like honeydew and thyme.”
“I’d love that,” said Charlotte.
Paros nodded. “Ikaria,” he said, without looking at her. “My island, it’s near Turkey.”
“Oh,” said Charlotte. She tried to think of something more to add, a way of connecting, but Paros departed, the cabin door shutting behind him with a sound as final as the metal strike of scissors.
Charlotte sat down on her bed. If she were the type of person who dwelled, she would feel sorry for Paros and his colleagues, who were surely paid badly and housed in cramped, below-the-water cabins. But Charlotte was resolutely not a person who dwelled. How could she be?
Charlotte had once been someone who tried to get to the bottom of things. Winston, for example. She had continually tried to figure out what was wrong with him, attempting to anticipate what he might need or want so that she could keep him from sadness and, later, scotch. She had made his dinners with care, submitted to sex, woke early to shower and dress so that she could serve him breakfast with her face on.
But all that changed one Saturday morning. Charlotte was sitting at the kitchen counter in her tennis whites, doing theNew York Timescrossword puzzle. She’d dropped the younger kids at the Club and was waiting for Lee to wake up and pack her swimsuit. Winston had taken to falling asleep in the den, which was fine with Charlotte. She knew not to bother him until lunch, when he would like a turkey on rye with Grey Poupon mustard and Lay’s potato chips.
Charlotte heard a scream. She looked up from five across (“Bobby Short’s ‘saloon,’ ” obviously “Café Carlyle”), her pencil still finishing the last “e.” There was no other sound. Charlotte waited, then returned to her puzzle. (Five down: “A pilot’s living room.”) Her brain whirred, and she counted the spaces—yes! “Cockpit.” She filled in the letters, then set down her pencil. She was still someone who investigated things, for a few more moments.
Charlotte climbed the stairs slowly. She paused at the top, ears straining, but heard nothing more. Had she imagined the shriek? “Lee?” she called quietly.
Lee’s response was a wail of agony. Charlotte rushed toward the sound, which seemed to be coming from Lee’s bathroom. Charlotte was wearing tennis socks with pom-poms. Lee’s room smelled of drugstore perfume. In her bathroom, Lee was standing on tiptoe, hugging Winston, whose face—
Why did he do it in Lee’s bathroom?
How could she tell her friends?
What if Charlotte had looked for him before she took the kids to the Club?
How could he leave her alone?
What was she supposed to do now?
Oh, Winston, why?
—
YOU COULD KEEP ASKINGquestions, or you could stop. To survive, Charlotte did what she had to do. To this day, she could hardly look Lee in the eye. Only Lee knew how profoundly Charlotte had failed. Charlotte knew the truth weighed heavily on her oldest girl. She knew that Lee was breaking. The questions loomed: could Lee bear—
No. Charlotte swallowed. You could keep asking questions, or you could stop. Charlotte bowed her head and prayed, asking God to take care of Paros and Lee; Cord and Regan; her mother, father, and Minnie in heaven; and last, Charlotte herself. Then she stood, readying herself for a fun day at sea.
