Hannah leaned in the doorway, her arms crossed. “You sure? Last night when you came home, things seemed a little off?”
Minnie groaned and tightened herself into a ball. She should have been better at lying to her mother, as she’d had plenty of practice. Back in the old days, she’d never told Hannah what Kendall said about her when Hannah wasn’t around, and she’d never had any problem lying about where she was spending thenight if there was a party in Miami somewhere. But this felt bigger, life-altering. Her mother had written an article about her father’s crimes, and he’d popped up in Nantucket, out of nowhere. It was too big a secret to look at head-on.
“How is it going with the harbor master?” Minnie asked instead of answering, forcing herself up so that she could lean against the wall with her arms around her knees. She wished she could sleep longer, if only to avoid everything that awaited her today. But life went on.
Hannah melted the slightest bit. “He’s sweet, isn’t he? He told me last night that his wife passed away. I knew there was something lonely about him.”
Minnie couldn’t bring herself to think of the harbor master and her mother, laughing on the back porch. She couldn’t bring herself to think too much about normal things, not when she was about to see her father. She imagined that Kendall would hate that her mother was dating again—not because he wanted to be with her, but because he hated to lose. It had to be his choice to abandon someone. Minnie knew this implicitly, although he’d never said it.
“I’m going to make breakfast,” Hannah said then. “Come downstairs?”
“Okay.” But Minnie sat in bed for a full ten minutes, her heart throbbing.
Eventually, Minnie got up the will to put on a sweatshirt and a pair of shorts and head to the kitchen, where her mother had made two omelets with feta and olives. Rather than sit at the table, they ate their omelets in front of the television, watchingThe Idea of Youwith Anne Hathaway, a rom-com that Minnie had really wanted to watch since it came out. Minnie allowed herself to be swept into the story, one of sweet kisses and even sweeter promises. By the end, both she and her mother were crying.
“That was really something,” Hannah whispered.
Minnie wasn’t sure if she was crying over the film or for fear of what awaited her at the end of the day. She didn’t say anything, for fear of what she might reveal.
Hannah turned back on the television, lowered the volume, and looked over at Minnie. Minnie could feel her gaze, steady and unrelenting. “How is it going with Viggo?”
“Good,” Minnie said, surprised at how sure she was about him. “He’s a really great guy.”
“I’d like to meet him,” Hannah said.
“Maybe we can arrange that,” Minnie said, her voice small.
Hannah sighed and rubbed her temple, as though she had a headache coming on. “I know it’s been a difficult few months, Minnie. But I hope you know you can talk to me? About anything? If you want to.”
Minnie shrugged and said she knew. Perhaps sensing she wanted to be left alone, her mother sat quietly beside her, watching television until Julien came over to drop off some supplies during his lunch hour. He nodded at Minnie and asked her how she was doing, offering a tenderness that surprised Minnie. Kendall would have called him weak, she knew. But her mother didn’t seem to think that.
Later, she poked her head out onto the back porch to tell her mother she was going to hang out with Viggo. It was seven, far too early to leave to meet her father, but Minnie felt itchy and strange and needed to get out of the house. Via text, she’d told Viggo she had plans with her mother, which meant she had to find a way into town in the first place, since she and Hannah had only one car.
She hated lying to Viggo about this. She felt sure that he could handle it, that he would accept anything she told him. But she knew that Kendall didn’t want that.
Julien and Hannah sat on the porch steps rather than the rocking chairs, their shoulders touching. They watched the sunset and looked through photographs on Hannah’s phone, pictures that seemed like ideas for fixing up their fixer-upper. They looked picturesque, happy, like a couple in a magazine. Minnie couldn’t remember the last time her mother and father had sat so tightly together, as though they were really in love.
“What’s the plan?” Hannah asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe we’re going to the beach?” Minnie tucked her hair behind her ear.
“Did you get something to eat?” Hannah started to stand up.
But Minnie told her that they were going to grab something in town before the beach. The reality was, Minnie didn’t think she’d be able to keep anything down. She was too nervous.
When she left the house, she began to walk down the road, her thoughts chasing themselves around her head. She felt dizzy, and in actuality, she was starving. As she walked, she searched for the route to the Waterstone Hotel and discovered it would take nearly forty-five minutes. She imagined her entering her father’s hotel room, slightly sweaty and dizzy from lack of food. Would he buy her a burger or something? Or would he remind her that she needed to stay trim, that only people who looked good succeeded in life?
Suddenly, a black sports car appeared beside Minnie, nearly frightening her out of her skin. She kept her eyes straight ahead, at least until the car slowed to a near stop and the driver’s side window came down. Minnie’s panic dropped when she turned to see that the driver was an older woman in her mid-seventies. If the woman had bad intentions, Minnie felt sure she could overpower her.
“Where are you going, honey?” the woman asked sweetly. Worry echoed in her tone.
Minnie considered this. Exhausted and hungry, could she take a risk and hitchhike? She’d only read terrifying stories. But those stories always involved scary men in trucks, picking up young women who didn’t know better. Minnie turned to look at the woman, who was wrinkled and wearing very nice clothing. It seemed unlikely that she would take advantage of Minnie.
“Can you take me to the Waterstone Hotel?” she asked.
“I’m driving right past there,” the woman said. “Hop in.”
Minnie hesitated, assessing the woman’s face for a bit longer. But the woman wasn’t smiling too big. She offered no “bad vibes.” Minnie hurried to the other side of the car, got in, and buckled her seat belt. The car smelled of lavender, and the woman was wearing no wedding ring. It reminded Minnie of how her mother had removed her wedding band that first week after Kendall’s disappearance. Minnie wondered where her mother kept it.
