Now That You Mention It
Page 49
“Let me help you clean up,” he said.
“No way,” I said. “You get on home.”
“I’m not leaving you with this mess.” Those eyes were caramel deliciousness, warm and tempting.
“Oh, but you are,” I said. “Being puked on by a dinner guest gets you a free pass.”
A faint frown settled between his eyebrows. “I’m more than happy to help.”
“I’m good, Bobby.” Ah, shit! Where did that come from? “I mean, jeesh, Sullivan. Anyway, I’m kind of anal about cleaning up, and I have to make a few calls, besides.”
Without moving a muscle, his face changed. “Got it. See you around, then. Thanks for a nice dinner.”
He started out the door, and I closed my eyes. A perfectly nice man, and I was kicking him out.
I went to the doorway. He was about halfway down the dock. “Sully? Sullivan? Thank you for the pie.”
He either didn’t hear me or didn’t want to answer.
16
Dear Lily,
I forgot how pretty May is on the island. All the leaves have popped, and the birds are awake at 4:47 a.m. every morning. I saw three baby rabbits this morning, and they were so cute. The other night, Poe came over to do homework, and I made her grilled cheese and tomato. We always used to eat that on the first day of winter, remember?
Love,
Nora
The weekend before Memorial Day, I took the ferry to Boston to retrieve my dog. I was ridiculously excited to have him back, to tug his silky ears, gaze into his pretty brown eyes and feel his reassuring bulk on the bottom of my bed. Bobby loved Boomer, sure, but the Dog of Dogs was mine. My soul mate.
It had been my decision to get a dog two months after the Big Bad Event. Bobby and I went to the animal shelter, and there he was, twelve weeks old, the result of a Bernese mountain dog and a Rottweiler love affair. He’d grow too big for most Bostonians and their apartments. One look in his worried eyes and the deal was done. And you know what they say about adopted pets—they never forget that they were rescued.
Turns out, Boomer rescued me. He got me outside (armed with pepper spray and rape whistle). If a stranger approached, Boomer’s tail let me know if the person was okay, because I was scared of everyone.
At home, when my heart turned on me in a panic attack, fluttering like a hummingbird, and I couldn’t breathe or remember where I was, Boomer would sense it and nudge my hand with his velvety snout, whining his love and concern. When Bobby worked nights, the dog stayed glued to me, and the truth was, he made me feel safer than Bobby.
So yes, I was glad to have him back. That was an understatement.
And I was eager to see Bobby again, too. He’d been perfectly lovely over these two weeks, sending me pictures, checking up on me via text and even a nice long phone call one night, when I sat on the top deck of my houseboat and watched the sunset. I almost felt like my Perez self.
I wondered what would happen in August, after Lily and Poe reunited and left for Seattle again, as was the plan. When I’d go back to Boston—hopefully with Mom dating someone, because for all her independence, she had to be lonely—what would be in store? I’d need a new apartment. Maybe I’d love it as much as I’d loved my old place. Maybe I’d feel safe there.
Maybe I should give Bobby another chance. I shouldn’t have been indulging in thoughts about Sully—I was only temporary here.
And Bobby wanted to get back together. If I was past the grayness, maybe it would be like old times. I almost couldn’t blame him for fondling Jabrielle’s hair. She was beautiful, if bitchy, condescending and without morals.
Those three months of perfection when Bobby and I were new together...maybe they were worth another try.
So that morning, while I didn’t go crazy with makeup and staring into my closet, I did take a little time to look put together. Traded in the jean jacket for a light brocade coat, and instead of the L.L.Bean muck boots that were required wearing in springtime up here, put on some cowboy boots instead. Added a scarf and dangly earrings.
On the ferry ride over, I decided to quiz Jake on my father. I was the only one on the boat, which was skipping and dipping across the swells, the salt spray undoing my hair ironing. Frizz it would be. I’d come prepared with a hair elastic.
I went into the pilothouse. “Jake, remember I was asking about my dad the other night?”
“Huh? I think I was in the bathroom, maybe.”
“Yeah, and speaking of that, if you want a free GI consult, I’m here for you. Or you could just try some Imodium next time.”
“What about your father?”
I tugged my coat closer. “Well, you’ve been the ferry captain since forever. Do you remember him leaving the island that time? He would’ve had a suitcase or two. Might’ve been upset.”
Jake lit his pipe, and a sweet, smoky smell filled the air. “Ayuh, I remember.”
My heart leaped. “You do? So...can you tell me about it?”
He drew on the pipe, clenching it between his yellow teeth. “Well, you’re right. He had a suitcase or two. He was aflutter. Talking to himself. Talking to me, talking to what’s-his-name...the Fletcher boy and his mother.”
“Which Fletcher boy? Sullivan?”
“The one who played all the sports.”
“Luke?”
“I guess so. The one who wasn’t at your party the other night. Anyway, your father was a regular rig that day.” Mainespeak for over-the-top. “Guess your mother kicked him out. He wasn’t happy about it. Said she’d get what she wanted, kept yappin’ on and on about what was fair and what wasn’t and how no one could tell him what to do.”
So they had been fighting. Mom never copped to it, but Lily had known somehow.
“Do you remember if you were going to Portland or Boston?”
“Portland.”
I looked out at the gray sea, the lobster buoys bouncing on the whitecaps. “Anything else, Jake? Anything else you remember?”
Jake looked at me, his craggy face unexpectedly kind. “Yep. He had a picture of you two girls in his hand. Kept starin’ at it. Might’ve been cryin’ just a dite.”
My throat clamped tight. “Thanks, Jake,” I whispered.
“Nawt a bothah.”
I went back onto the deck and sat in the hard-molded plastic chair.
The image of my father, distressed and angry, holding a hastily packed suitcase and a photo of Lily and me...that made me want to put my head down and cry.
It seemed I’d have to talk to Teeny and Luke if I wanted to find out any more.
* * *
When we pulled into the landing an hour later, Bobby was already there waiting for me, checking his phone. Boomer, on the other hand, went nuts the second he saw me.
“Boomer!” I said, kneeling down and hugging my wriggling dog. “My buddy! I missed you!” He whined with joy and licked my face, then tried to hug me, putting his big paws on my shoulders. “Who’s a good boy? You are, Boomer! Everyone says so!” I smooched his head, then stood up, still petting my doggy. “Hi, Bobby.”
“Hey,” he said, pocketing his phone and handing me the leash. “How’s it going?”
“Great. How are you?”
“Good. Listen, I can’t stay. I’m really sorry. Work stuff.”
Oh. My heart dropped a few inches. “No problem. Everything good with you?”
“Yeah. Excellent. I’m gonna miss the big guy, but I guess I can deal with it.” He bent down and rubbed Boomer’s head. “See you in two weeks, Boomer. Love you.”
“No way,” I said. “You get on home.”
“I’m not leaving you with this mess.” Those eyes were caramel deliciousness, warm and tempting.
“Oh, but you are,” I said. “Being puked on by a dinner guest gets you a free pass.”
A faint frown settled between his eyebrows. “I’m more than happy to help.”
“I’m good, Bobby.” Ah, shit! Where did that come from? “I mean, jeesh, Sullivan. Anyway, I’m kind of anal about cleaning up, and I have to make a few calls, besides.”
Without moving a muscle, his face changed. “Got it. See you around, then. Thanks for a nice dinner.”
He started out the door, and I closed my eyes. A perfectly nice man, and I was kicking him out.
I went to the doorway. He was about halfway down the dock. “Sully? Sullivan? Thank you for the pie.”
He either didn’t hear me or didn’t want to answer.
16
Dear Lily,
I forgot how pretty May is on the island. All the leaves have popped, and the birds are awake at 4:47 a.m. every morning. I saw three baby rabbits this morning, and they were so cute. The other night, Poe came over to do homework, and I made her grilled cheese and tomato. We always used to eat that on the first day of winter, remember?
Love,
Nora
The weekend before Memorial Day, I took the ferry to Boston to retrieve my dog. I was ridiculously excited to have him back, to tug his silky ears, gaze into his pretty brown eyes and feel his reassuring bulk on the bottom of my bed. Bobby loved Boomer, sure, but the Dog of Dogs was mine. My soul mate.
It had been my decision to get a dog two months after the Big Bad Event. Bobby and I went to the animal shelter, and there he was, twelve weeks old, the result of a Bernese mountain dog and a Rottweiler love affair. He’d grow too big for most Bostonians and their apartments. One look in his worried eyes and the deal was done. And you know what they say about adopted pets—they never forget that they were rescued.
Turns out, Boomer rescued me. He got me outside (armed with pepper spray and rape whistle). If a stranger approached, Boomer’s tail let me know if the person was okay, because I was scared of everyone.
At home, when my heart turned on me in a panic attack, fluttering like a hummingbird, and I couldn’t breathe or remember where I was, Boomer would sense it and nudge my hand with his velvety snout, whining his love and concern. When Bobby worked nights, the dog stayed glued to me, and the truth was, he made me feel safer than Bobby.
So yes, I was glad to have him back. That was an understatement.
And I was eager to see Bobby again, too. He’d been perfectly lovely over these two weeks, sending me pictures, checking up on me via text and even a nice long phone call one night, when I sat on the top deck of my houseboat and watched the sunset. I almost felt like my Perez self.
I wondered what would happen in August, after Lily and Poe reunited and left for Seattle again, as was the plan. When I’d go back to Boston—hopefully with Mom dating someone, because for all her independence, she had to be lonely—what would be in store? I’d need a new apartment. Maybe I’d love it as much as I’d loved my old place. Maybe I’d feel safe there.
Maybe I should give Bobby another chance. I shouldn’t have been indulging in thoughts about Sully—I was only temporary here.
And Bobby wanted to get back together. If I was past the grayness, maybe it would be like old times. I almost couldn’t blame him for fondling Jabrielle’s hair. She was beautiful, if bitchy, condescending and without morals.
Those three months of perfection when Bobby and I were new together...maybe they were worth another try.
So that morning, while I didn’t go crazy with makeup and staring into my closet, I did take a little time to look put together. Traded in the jean jacket for a light brocade coat, and instead of the L.L.Bean muck boots that were required wearing in springtime up here, put on some cowboy boots instead. Added a scarf and dangly earrings.
On the ferry ride over, I decided to quiz Jake on my father. I was the only one on the boat, which was skipping and dipping across the swells, the salt spray undoing my hair ironing. Frizz it would be. I’d come prepared with a hair elastic.
I went into the pilothouse. “Jake, remember I was asking about my dad the other night?”
“Huh? I think I was in the bathroom, maybe.”
“Yeah, and speaking of that, if you want a free GI consult, I’m here for you. Or you could just try some Imodium next time.”
“What about your father?”
I tugged my coat closer. “Well, you’ve been the ferry captain since forever. Do you remember him leaving the island that time? He would’ve had a suitcase or two. Might’ve been upset.”
Jake lit his pipe, and a sweet, smoky smell filled the air. “Ayuh, I remember.”
My heart leaped. “You do? So...can you tell me about it?”
He drew on the pipe, clenching it between his yellow teeth. “Well, you’re right. He had a suitcase or two. He was aflutter. Talking to himself. Talking to me, talking to what’s-his-name...the Fletcher boy and his mother.”
“Which Fletcher boy? Sullivan?”
“The one who played all the sports.”
“Luke?”
“I guess so. The one who wasn’t at your party the other night. Anyway, your father was a regular rig that day.” Mainespeak for over-the-top. “Guess your mother kicked him out. He wasn’t happy about it. Said she’d get what she wanted, kept yappin’ on and on about what was fair and what wasn’t and how no one could tell him what to do.”
So they had been fighting. Mom never copped to it, but Lily had known somehow.
“Do you remember if you were going to Portland or Boston?”
“Portland.”
I looked out at the gray sea, the lobster buoys bouncing on the whitecaps. “Anything else, Jake? Anything else you remember?”
Jake looked at me, his craggy face unexpectedly kind. “Yep. He had a picture of you two girls in his hand. Kept starin’ at it. Might’ve been cryin’ just a dite.”
My throat clamped tight. “Thanks, Jake,” I whispered.
“Nawt a bothah.”
I went back onto the deck and sat in the hard-molded plastic chair.
The image of my father, distressed and angry, holding a hastily packed suitcase and a photo of Lily and me...that made me want to put my head down and cry.
It seemed I’d have to talk to Teeny and Luke if I wanted to find out any more.
* * *
When we pulled into the landing an hour later, Bobby was already there waiting for me, checking his phone. Boomer, on the other hand, went nuts the second he saw me.
“Boomer!” I said, kneeling down and hugging my wriggling dog. “My buddy! I missed you!” He whined with joy and licked my face, then tried to hug me, putting his big paws on my shoulders. “Who’s a good boy? You are, Boomer! Everyone says so!” I smooched his head, then stood up, still petting my doggy. “Hi, Bobby.”
“Hey,” he said, pocketing his phone and handing me the leash. “How’s it going?”
“Great. How are you?”
“Good. Listen, I can’t stay. I’m really sorry. Work stuff.”
Oh. My heart dropped a few inches. “No problem. Everything good with you?”
“Yeah. Excellent. I’m gonna miss the big guy, but I guess I can deal with it.” He bent down and rubbed Boomer’s head. “See you in two weeks, Boomer. Love you.”
