Another long silence followed. She knew what he needed — his family, friends, and memories — but all she had to offer were things that money could buy.
ʺDo you remember anything?ʺ she asked. ʺLike whether you live on Cape Cod or were just visiting?ʺ
ʺI live here.ʺ His initial moment of hesitation tipped her off. ʺI see. That’ s why you thought Providence was the next town over, rather than the capital of Rhode Island.”
Guy took a deep breath and let it out, as if she were trying his patience. ʺItʹs like this. Some things — names, a person, an object, even a smell— seem familiar, but I donʹt know how or why. As soon as I try to focus on what seems familiar, it slips away.ʺ ʺThatʹs hard.ʺ She heard Guy turn in his seat and was aware of him studying her; she kept her eyes on the road. ʺWas it like that for you?ʺ he asked.
ʺYes — and no. I couldnʹt recall the crash, but I knew who I was when I woke up.
And I knew what I had lost.ʺ
ʺWhich was?ʺ he asked. She didnʹt answer. ʺHereʹs our exit.” Ivy drove a half mile along a two‐lane road bordered by a mix of deciduous trees and scrub pine, then turned into a lot serving a small strip of stores, where she and her mother had stopped a few days before. Between the shops of Wicker & Wood and Everything Cranberry was a store that sold sportswear. Ivy parked at the sandy edge of the lot, where the trees provided shade. Pulling the keys out of the ignition, she turned to Guy. ʺWhat do you think youʹll need to get by for a while?ʺ
ʺI donʹt need anything from anyone.ʺ ʺA shirt, sweatshirt, and shorts,ʺ she went on, ʺsocks, shoes, underwear… a towel. What else?ʺ He stared straight ahead, his fists in his lap. Ivy reached for her purse in the back of the car. ʺListen, I know this doesnʹt solve any of the larger challenges youʹre facing, but itʹs a start.”
Guy exploded. ʺMy larger challenges? You talk like a freaking psychiatrist!ʺ
ʺWould you prefer that I call them unsolvable problems?ʺ
ʺWouldnʹt that be more honest?ʹʹ
ʺOnly if you think theyʹre unsolvable,ʺ she said. ʺNext youʹll be lecturing me on the twelve‐step program. Step one: admit you have a problem.ʺ
ʺThatʹs a good beginning,ʺ she replied. He grimaced. ʺNot just the admitting part. It tells us that somehow you know about substance abuse programs. If s a clue.ʺ
ʺA clue telling me what?ʺ he asked incredulously. ʺThat my father was an alcoholic? That my brother — or was it my friends, or was it my mother — did drugs? Maybe I did! Or maybe this clue tells me simply that AA made a presentation at my school and I happened to be listening that day. It tells me nothing!ʺ
Ivy struggled to remain patient. ʺObviously, one puzzle piece has no significance in itself. But once you start putting it together with other pieces, it will make a picture. Pay attention when you suddenly come up with a puzzle piece — donʹt push it off the table in a rage.ʺ She dropped her keys in her purse.
ʺAre you coming?ʺ
ʺNo:ʺ
ʺDonʹt make such a big deal out of it — you can pay me back later. In the meantime, you canʹt go without a shirt and decent shoes.ʺ She waited thirty seconds longer, then got out of the car.
He poked his head out the window. ʺNice outfit,ʺ he called to her. Ivy glanced down — the bathrobe! She started to laugh. ʺHey, itʹs my beach wrap.ʺ
Using Willʹs sizes as a guide, Ivy flipped through the brightly colored T‐shirts and cotton shorts. Guy was scared, she thought; anyone whoʹd leave the hospital — a roof, a bed, and food — when he had no other place to go was very afraid of something.
His bouts of anger came from his fear and his hurt pride. If Will were in this situation, would he act this way? She wasnʹt sure, but Tristan had had that kind of pride.
Ivy added to her list of purchases a large backpack, a pair of cargo pants, sunglasses, and a second towel. At the checkout counter she used her debit card, asking for cash back. Then she stuffed the money, the receipt, and other items in the pack.
Emerging from the store, she walked slowly toward the car, mulling over the situation. When she looked up, she couldnʹt believe it — Guy was gone. She looked around quickly, as if he might have gotten out of the car to stretch his legs, but he had disappeared. She gazed into the green shade of the woods that bordered the parking lot. His escape route — to where? Guy himself probably had no idea.
He had left her T‐shirt on the car seat. Ridiculous, stupid pride! Taking a pen from her purse, she wrote the name ʺGuyʺ on the backpack, then picked up the pack, and with all her strength, flung it toward the trees. Afterward, she drove to Nauset Light Beach, where she ran through the pounding surf until she was exhausted, wishing her jumbled emotions could drain into the sea.
“YOU COULD HAVE CALLED,” WILL SAID TWO HOURS later. ʺYou shouldʹve had your phone on. You had us worried.ʺ
He was working next to the large garden between the cottage and inn, sanding an old bookcase heʹd found among Aunt Cindyʹs stash of furniture. Beth sat nearby in an Adirondack chair, a book opened facedown on the chairʹs flat arm.
ʺI told you I was fine,ʺ Ivy replied. ʺYour appointment was hours ago. I thought something was wrong?”
Ivy removed her shoes and shook the sand out of them. ʺI went to the beach.ʺ
Willʹs mouth held a straight line and the muscles in his forearms shone with sweat as he sanded furiously. Beth looked from him to Ivy, then back to him.
ʺWhy would you assume that something was wrong?ʺ Ivy asked. ʺGiven your track record. Ivy, why would I assume things were okay?ʺ
She didnʹt reply. ʺIf Beth, who wasnʹt even hospitalized, had gone for a follow-up appointment and arrived home three hours after you expected, wouldnʹt you have worried?ʺ
ʺOkay, fine, you win,ʺ Ivy said, hoping to end the discussion. Will looked up from his work, his anger gone, but his deep brown eyes troubled. ʺIʹm not trying to win. Iʹm just trying to understand whatʹs going on.”
ʺMe too,ʺ Ivy replied honestly, and headed into the cottage.
ʺBUT YOU LIKED TO KAYAK ON THE RIVER AT HOME,ʺ Ivy said to Beth at noon on Sunday. With only a few guests staying past the weekend, they had finished work and were returning to the cottage, following the stone path through the garden. ʺBillingsgate Island sounds so mysterious, rising out of the water at low tide — and that sunken ship!ʺ For the past week, Beth had been complaining of writerʹs block. ʺTheyʹll inspire you,ʺ Ivy added encouragingly.
ʺI guess,ʺ Beth replied without enthusiasm.
ʺMaybe itʹs not the kayaking,ʺ Ivy said, after a moment of thought, ʺbut the person youʹre doing it with. Has something happened since the ice‐cream date with Chase? You seemed to really like him then.ʺ
Beth shrugged. ʺHe texts me a lot.ʺ
ʺMeaning too much,ʺ Ivy concluded. ʺAnd youʹre too nice to tell him to back off.ʺ Beth turned to Ivy.
ʺYou know youʹre too kindhearted,ʺ Ivy said, smiling at her friend. ʺYou donʹt even swat at flies.ʺ
ʺI might swat this one,ʺ Beth said as she entered the cottage. Ivy retrieved a paperback mystery, one of the many left behind by visitors to the Seabright, and carried it around to the innʹs porch.
Oceanside, running the length of the inn and wrapping one comer, the porch had its own special light. In the early morning it was an airy room adrift in the marmalade and yellow of the sunrise, but gradually it became as cool and blue as the distant streak of sea. When no guests were around, Ivy liked sitting there.
Tilting back in a wooden rocker, her feet up on the porch railing, she gazed past the green edge of Aunt Cindyʹs yard to the ocean and cloudless sky, her mind drifting.