“She dined alone,” Holly told her. “She ate half of everything. No comments, no questions. Impossible to tell.”
“Okay.” Greta tossed her towel on the island. “Now we wait.”
At the end of the night, Oliver found her wiping down the stove. The dining room was empty, the servers had gone home. Paul was out back, taking out the last of the trash. Her back ached and her feet, too.
“I know it’s been a big night,” he said, “but I didn’t want to do this without you.”
“Do what?”
“I’m releasing the opossum.”
“Tonight? Already?” It didn’t seem possible, and yet she was not surprised. The summer was nearly half over. Days and nights were slipping by, as meals were made and opossums grew.
“He’s ready, and it’s best to do it at night. I’d like you to come say goodbye. That is, if you still want to.”
There seemed to be a lot of talk about goodbyes lately, but she followed him outside.
Oliver had placed the opossum in a cardboard box, and she waited by the garden as he carried it to the corner of the shed and tipped it gently on its side, lifting the lid. Then he backed away and joined her to watch. Even in the shadows, they could see the outline of a little pink nose poke out and sniff the air. A moment later the opossum emerged in full, looking around. He stood very still as they watched.
Despite the space between them, Greta felt the bulk of Oliver as he crouched beside her in the grass. In the stillness, she felt the rise and fall of her own chest matching his breath. How it hurt to be so close when the distance between them was so great. Oliver shifted position, his shoulder brushing up against her. Against her will, she found herself leaning into its warmth. Across the yard, the opossum took a tentative step, then another. She held her breath.
“Do you think he’ll be okay?” she asked, suddenly anxious. There was so much to worry about that summer: The review Dahlia Fisk would write. The inn and its uncertain future. The man kneeling beside her, whom she did not need, and was no longer sure she wanted, though she could not deny the reassuring press of his shoulder against hers.
“We did our best,” he whispered. “All we can do now is watch and wait.”
Once again, he’d read her mind.
Ben
You were born a lawyer,” his brother, Jonah, used to joke. He didn’t exactly mean it as a compliment, and Ben didn’t take it as such. He understood what Jonah was getting at.
Ben was an exacting person. Even as a kid he’d always liked a good debate. And when he debated, he was ruthless about facts. There was certainty in facts, just as there was certainty in the legal evidence he gathered to support his claims and defend his clients. Ben hoped for fairness, but believed in justice. The trouble was, there was neither of those things in love.
Since taking leave to return to Chatham, Ben had found himself falling back into old habits. He wasn’t okay with that. Because facts were facts: he lived and worked in Rhode Island, and his time here on the Cape had an end date. No matter the unexpected things that had awaited him back in Chatham, or the return of feelings he’d not entertained in years. He had a commitment to a client and a contract with his firm. And an apartment and friends in the city. Those were the facts.
Timing was a funny thing, as Holly had said at the Squire. Ben had always thought of it as a deciding factor, and maybe that was lazy of him. It was easy to blame things working out—or not—based on timing. It released the people in question from having to do anything differently. It let them off the hook.
Here he was, thinking how unfortunate the timing was for him and Holly to have reunited. Now, when he was straddling two states and two jobs at the same time. Now, when she was just taking over a family business, and all on her own. Both of them consumed, completely, by their commitments to work and family.
And yet, in the midst of all that turmoil, they’d still found their way back to one another. Even if their time had been limited, their connection was strong, the feelings abundant. Ben could not recall laughing as hard or feeling desire as strong at any point during his marriage with his ex-wife as he had these last few weeks. With Holly, it was simply there. All of it. Wasn’t that what it was all about?
His bags rested in the back seat of his car as he drove up to Cranberry House. He would not be able to stay for the grand opening, as he’d hoped. The upcoming trial demanded he return and slog through the weekend. Holly had taken the news coolly, her mind understandably forced to focus on other things. Still, he needed to see her before he went.
The lobby was quiet as he walked through. An older couple sat in the parlor, seated at the chess table by the window. A mom with two kids sat outside on the patio, eating lunch. From the kitchen came the pleasant clatter of prep work and the smell of something sweet, reminding him of the childhood birthday cakes his mother used to bake.They must all be back in the library, Ben thought.
Only no one was there. The library was set up for the event, tables of crisp new books for sale displayed all throughout the room. There were twinkle lights strung between the bookcases, and warmly lit paper lanterns hung from the vaulted ceiling. There was a bar cart and sparkling glassware and a long white table draped in linen probably awaiting whatever confection he’d smelled baking in the lobby.
She’s done it, he thought, taking it all in.
Ben needed to get on the road, but he couldn’t go without saying goodbye. Back out in the lobby he found Linus. “She’s not here,” he said, reading Ben’s mind.
He’d texted Holly that he was coming. Was she avoiding him?
“Can you tell me where she is?” Ben ventured. It was still unclear how Linus felt about him, and very clear how he felt about Holly.
Linus cocked his head, as if weighing outcomes. Just as Ben was about to walk away, he said, “The beach.”
Ben raced down the old wood stairs, something he’d not done in years. At the base, he looked up and down the strip of beach. Guest lounge chairs and umbrellas were set up, several of them taken, but none by Holly. There was no choice but to kick off his shoes, and start walking.
