Page 1 of Sunset on the Solstice

1

Livingston, Montana

When the air-conditioning broke at the beginning of the summer, Shelby felt a lurch in her gut that told her not to bother Jared about this, not yet, not till he got home from work. It went without saying that he hated when she called him at the office, and she couldn’t remember the last time she had. But they were in the midst of an early heatwave, a surprise for Montana at this time of the year. Sweat glimmered on Shelby’s children’s foreheads. She knew they wanted to beg to watch the television. She knew they wanted to eat ice cream for breakfast and lunch. Shelby told herself she had to regroup. She had to distract her children from their discomfort. More than that, she had to find a way to make it through the next ten hours, till Jared got home and figured out what to do next.

She sliced watermelon and strawberries, packed little sandwiches filled with cheese and sliced turkey, and announced to her three children that they were headed outside. Along the edge of their ten-acre property was a stream, one that gushed from Livingston Peak not far away, cutting through their grounds beneath gorgeous oak, elm, and western larch trees, dropping the temperature into the more comfortable lower seventies. She spread a blanket out on the grass and smeared sun protection on her children’s faces and shoulders. Wind whistled through the trees, and she reminded herself to smile, as she wanted her children to grow up and remember that their mother had been happy.

But a problem with finding joy just now was the nausea. Shelby was two months pregnant with their fourth baby, and she could hardly keep anything down, which made her all the more fatigued and unable to handle the heat. As her eldest, Billy, who was five, and her second-eldest, Penelope, who was four, put their feet in the water of the creek and called out happily, their voices echoing, Shelby lay back beside Evie, who was three and, mercifully, napping.

Shelby put her hands over her stomach and closed her eyes, willing the nausea to go away. Instead, it felt as though the vast scenery around her—the purple mountains, the colossal sky, the lurching trees—spun around her. “Please,” she whispered to the sky. “Stop.”

“Come on, Mom!” Billy called from the water. “It’s so nice!”

Sensing she wouldn’t find any peace on her back, Shelby left Evie napping in the shade and went to the water. Taking Billy’s and Penelope’s hands in hers, they stepped deeper into the stream, feeling the water sweep gently around their ankles. In this section of the stream, the water wasn’t moving too quickly, making it safe enough for their children to play in. But Shelby never let them go too far into the water without holding her hand.

As always when they stood in the stream, Shelby felt a strange exhilaration. She felt her daughter’s and son’s little hands in hers. She felt her heart beating in her chest. It was hard to believe that she was twenty-six, lived in Montana, and would soon be a mother of four. It was hard to believe she hadn’t seen Nantucket Island in nearly six years.

Just then, a figure emerged from between the trees on the opposite side of the stream. Shelby immediately panicked, drawing her children against her. She narrowed her eyes until she could make out who it was. A woman, maybe in her fifties. Had Shelby seen her before? The woman got closer to the water and raised her hand. Her gray hair curled wildly around her ears.

“Morning,” she said. “It’s a whole lot cooler closer to the water, isn’t it?”

Shelby felt anxiety boiling in her stomach. She studied the woman’s face, searching for some sign that she was trying to trick her or take advantage of her in some way. Silence fell across the water. Even Shelby’s children were quiet.

When Shelby didn’t answer, the woman cleared her throat and tried again. “My name is Vivian. This is my property over here.” She gestured to indicate the woods on the other side of the stream. “My house is about a quarter of a mile from here.” She pointed to her right and Shelby’s left. “I moved here about three months ago, but I haven’t ventured far from my place. It took me a while to figure out how to be alone out here. I’m newly divorced.”

Shelby wasn’t sure why the woman wanted to share so many personal details about herself. It felt as though she were calling out those details across the water for all the world to hear. If Jared heard her, he’d probably say something like, “Doesn’t she know to keep those things to herself?”

“Hi!” Penelope said.

Vivian laughed and put her hands on her hips. “Do you mind if I come over there?”

Rather than wait for Shelby to answer, Vivian removed her shoes and socks and stepped into the stream, which came up to her knees on her way over. When she reached Shelby, Billy, and Penelope in the water, her smile hiccuped slightly, as though she were regretting coming closer. But now she was here, and Shelby didn’t know what to do.

“I have some snacks,” Shelby said finally. “Do you want a piece of watermelon?”

“That sounds incredible,” Vivian said.

Shelby led Billy, Penelope, and Vivian back to the picnic basket, where Evie continued to sleep soundly. She removed the Tupperware and handed it to Vivian, watching as she selected one and bit off a chunk. Shelby wondered if it was Vivian or her husband who had asked for the divorce. She wondered where her husband lived and if he was still angry with her. Probably he was.

“How long have you been out here?” Vivian asked.

Shelby didn’t understand at first what she meant. She shook her head gently.

“I mean, when did you move out here to the mountains?” Vivian said.

“Oh.” Shelby considered this, frowning. “Maybe five years ago.”

“Five years! That’s great. You’ll have to give me some tips on how to fare out here alone,” Vivian said. “I’m guessing the winters are harsh.”

Shelby couldn’t fathom why this woman wanted to get to know her, unless she really did need survivalist techniques for living in Montana, of which Shelby had few. Shelby and Jared were modern people, living with heating and, usually, air-conditioning, and freezers and stoves. They had the internet, too, although Shelby hardly ever used it these days, except when she needed to look something up for the children. Sometimes they got an ache or a pain or a fever that frightened her, and she fell into a WebMD hole, just like old times.

Sometimes she couldn’t believe that she’d once been glued to her smartphone, obsessed with reading online articles and texting her college friends and her sister, Lily.

Vivian finished her watermelon and sat at the edge of the blanket. The wind rustled through the leaves above them. Shelby felt as though her own tongue was made of rubber. What did people usually talk about? Shelby had spent most of the past five years with her children, telling childish stories and making up games.

“My name is Billy,” Billy said to Vivian then, pounding his chest with his fist.

“Nice to meet you, Billy,” Vivian said.