As Rose gets out of the car and steps into the dim light of the garden, I watch her pink dress billow around her ankles, blending into the dark greenery, and wonder how much I still don’t know.
Chapter TwentyLily
June 28
The next Tuesday at work, I decide I’m tired of receiving Theo’s cold shoulder. It’s already the last week of June, summer is rapidly disappearing, and I’m letting it slip away.
He’s standing by the water cooler with Emily when I approach.
“Can we talk?” I ask.
Emily looks at the two of us, raises her eyebrows, and then walks away, arms raised in the air. “I’ll let you two have some space.”
I still don’t know what’s going on between the two of them, if anything, but I no longer have the energy to care. I miss my friend, and I don’t want to squander the rest of the summer over a silly disagreement. Seeing Rose and Thomas interact last night showed me how easy it is to let a small miscommunication snowball.
“Of course,” says Theo. His thick eyebrows bunch together, and he looks concerned as the two of us make our way to the outside porch.
Summer light bounces off the white seashell-lined pathway and is momentarily disorienting. I squint into Theo’s eyes and take a steadying breath.
“I know everything has been weird since the bonfire, but whatever I did wrong, I want to apologize. Hanging out with you has been the best part of my summer, and I miss it.”
I watch in real time as Theo’s face softens. All of the intensity and bravado drops. “I miss it, too,” he says. After a pause, he asks, “So, are you back with him?”
He lightly kicks a wayward piece of crushed seashell, sending it flying into the green grass.
For a moment, I’m confused by what he means. “Henry?”
Theo nods. “Yeah, I saw the two of you talking at the bonfire. Did he call off the engagement?”
The idea seems so suddenly absurd that I laugh. “No, of course not. We were just talking and catching up. He’s getting married.”
“It seemed more intimate than just catching up,” says Theo, still looking at the shells.
“Well, maybe we shouldn’t have talked at all, but no. I can assure you that there is nothing going on between me and Henry.”
As I say the words, I feel a sharp edge in my chest. Even though I know it’s true, it’s hard to admit that Henry is truly gone.
Theo nods. “Okay, just wondering. It seemed like you were playing a risky game there.”
“It’s over,” I say again, assuring myself as much as him. “I mean, it never really started. Nothing happened. But it’s over.”
A few members from the club walk by, tennis bags on their tan shoulders. We move out of the way and smile at them. I wait until they’re out of earshot to speak again.
“Friends?” I hold my hand out to Theo.
His big, uneven smile is back, the one I’ve grown to love. “Friends,” he says and takes my hand.
The rest of the week, everything goes back to normal. Theo gives Rose and me another pickleball lesson. We’re still awful, but at least this time, we’re slightly less awful.
On the Fourth of July, he joins us after practice to the Great Point Lighthouse to cross off the second item on Lottie’s list. Rose drives the Jeep on the beach, and Theo helps me take the roof off so we can get a better view. The sun is up, the sky is blue, and the choppy waves are mere feet from the tires. Every couple of minutes, a seal pops its friendly, smooth head above the water.
We arrive at the white-brick, remote lighthouse a little after noon, surrounded by hot sand dunes and sharp green seagrass. We plant beach chairs into the sand. Rose packed Something Natural iced teas and squished turkey sandwiches: a beach picnic. We cross number seven off the bucket list, as well.
Staring out at the water, I think about riptides: how they can take you, quick and fierce, and the only option is to let them. You cannot fight the current. All you can hope is that it takes you far enough out that maybe you can swim sideways back to shore.
Later in the afternoon, Rose has to meet a client, but Theo and I are still off from work. We decide to head downtown for ice cream at the Juice Bar. The streets in town are packed with summer visitors, and every few seconds, a biker or vacationer pops onto the narrow streets in front of the car. It’s clear that summer is in full swing. By the time we arrive at the ice cream store, the line is halfway down the block and it’s begun to rain.
“Do you want to check out the Whaling Museum instead?” Theo asks once I park. The cobblestones are already becoming slick with rainwater.
