“Oh, no,” said Regan.
Matt laughed again, a sound that had once made Regan feel at home but now filled her with dread. Janet seemed to be thrilled with whatever Matt was saying, though, and an idea bloomed in Regan’s imagination, a plan unfurling, a golden road out.
Regan looked at Flora and Isabella and imagined waking in a home without his cutting voice, without his watching, without Matt. They could stay in pajamas all day, and eat cereal for lunch. Hope filled Regan, warm and bright.
It was only later that she recognized Lee had done the same to Regan, maybe without even knowing she was doing it, placing her squarely in Matt’s path, hoping he would be distracted as Lee escaped.
That night, as she drove the boat home on the Skidaway River, leaving Matt to “have some fun” at Bonna Bella, Regan pointed out an osprey to the girls. “See?” she said. “It’s the mom, right there, in her nest.”
“I see it,” said Isabella.
“I see the baby birds!” said Flora.
Regan slowed the boat. The air was humid, smelling of marsh. They watched as the mother osprey surveyed the river and the sky, then took flight.
—
GIOVANNI LISTENED TO HERstory, putting his hand over his mouth as she concluded. “Wow,” he said. “Just…wow, Regan. So you set up your own husband’s affair? It’s likeDangerous Liaisonsin suburban Savannah!”
“It wasn’t even my idea to hire a private detective, though I’m sure the pictures will come in handy during the settlement.”
“I’m impressed,” said Giovanni. He drained his glass and shouted something that made the waitress bring more wine and bowls of truffle ravioli. “So what are you going to do now?”
“I honestly don’t know,” said Regan. “I haven’t really ever applied for a job.”
“That is rough,” said Giovanni. Regan paused, realizing how amazing it was that Giovanni didn’t seem to need to give her an answer, or even help her in any way. Itwasrough, but she would sort it out. In Gio’s position, she’d feel as if she had to solve everything.
“What about you?” said Regan, lifting her fork, resolving to just listen.
“Sometimes it’s best to move on,” said Giovanni, shaking his head. “Cord’s going to get it together or he’s not going to get it together. I know that sounds cold.”
“Yeah,” said Regan, thinking of Cord as a boy, of the way his eyes had flashed when Winston yelled. But Cord never yelled back. He just looked down. He just took it. “Our father…” said Regan.
“Save it,” said Giovanni, holding up his hand. “He’s thirty-six years old.”
The waitress appeared with a third serving.“Fusilli alla contadina e ai peperoni,”she said. Regan was beginning to feel uncomfortably full, her face flushed. She topped off her glass of wine, and ate.
“Look,” said Giovanni. “I know you guys had a hard childhood—really hard—but that’s over now. We all have problems. Get therapy, take meds, I don’t know. But for him to still be in the closet…that’s just some shame I don’t know how to handle.”
Regan nodded.
“I thought I could make him better. But I tried. And it seems like I can’t.” He shook his head, suddenly mournful. “I don’t want to give up,” he said. “I don’t want to give up on him.”
Regan took Giovanni’s hands in her own. She wanted to say, “Never give up.” She wanted to say, “Hang on to love, no matter what.” She wanted to say, “In sickness and in health.” But the truth was, she didn’t believe those words. Not anymore.
“He’s an incredible man,” she said.
“I know,” said Giovanni. “What do you think I should do?”
“He’s just so wonderful,” said Regan. “I love him so much.” It was hardly an answer, but it was the truth.
“I love him, too,” said Giovanni sadly.
—
BY THE TIME THEY’Dhad coffees and paid, thepiazza(somehow, tipsy, Regan knew what it was called) had become vibrant. Afternoon light bathed the city in a soft glow, and Regan was enamored with the smell of gasoline and garlic that seemed to permeate the air. Giovanni led her to the Arno and they held hands and looked at the water.
“We should get back on the bus,” said Giovanni.
