XXIII
I BID FAREWELL TO SUMMER IN A SERIES OF UNCOMFORTABLY EMOTIONAL VIGNETTES
“I HATE WHEN SUMMER ENDS,” Ms. Rothschild said, waving her hand in front of her face. I had found her crying in the farm’s library. “Don’t mind me, though. Come sit for a spell.” She patted the place on the couch next to her. I returned Persuasion to the shelf—I’d worked my way through all of Jane Austen that summer—and then I sat down. Ms. Rothschild put her arm around my shoulders. “It has been a good summer, hasn’t it? You look a tiny bit plumper and rosier, I think.”
“I feel better,” I said.
“I am glad to hear it. I hope you have been happy here. It has been delightful having you and your sister. Please come back anytime. I am thankful to my ex-husband for thinking of it. I always liked you, you know, even when Charlie was so dead set against the match with Win. We argued about it quite a bit back then. He insisted it was just a high school romance, and I said, no, that girl is special. But these many years later, Mr. Delacroix has come to the opinion that I was right, which he always does, by the way, and I know we both have had our fingers crossed that you and Win might find your way back together.”
“It’s not to be.”
“May I ask why, Anya?”
“Well … I was widowed less than a year ago, and I was so badly hurt. It’s hard to imagine a relationship with anyone until I feel more like myself. And, the truth is, romantically, I question a lot of the choices I’ve made. I’ve made so many mistakes while thinking I was doing exactly the right thing. I think I need a break from relationships.”
“That is probably sensible,” Ms. Rothschild said after a pause.
“Besides, I think what Win truly feels toward me is nostalgia, and he is good to me because of our shared past,” I said. “You raised the world’s most decent boy, so congratulations for that.”
“I had help,” she said. “Win forgets, but Charlie was a pretty good father most of the time, too.”
“I can believe that,” I said.
“Can you? Most people look at me like I’m insane when I defend that man…” She shook her head. “Do you know what? I am done listing Charles Delacroix’s attributes. I’ve been defending him nearly my whole life. To my friends. To my parents. To our son. I am done.”
“We spoke of you quite often in Japan. He still loves you, you know.”
“Yes, but that isn’t enough. I’ve been disappointed in him for twenty-five years. I am finally done with that, too,” she said.
“I think Mr. Delacroix has changed.”
“But then the election will happen and he’ll go right back to the way he was before.” She nodded to herself, then she took out her phone. “Have you ever seen a picture of Win’s sister?”
I shook my head and looked at the screen. She had light brown, wavy hair, and blue eyes like Win’s. In the photo, she was rolling those eyes. Aside from the expression, I didn’t see a resemblance.
“The problem with meeting new people is not that you might not like them, but that you will like them too much. Now that I know you, I’ll worry about you in the city, Anya,” Ms. Rothschild said. She clasped my hand in hers.
“I’ve been on my own for years. I’ll be fine.”
She looked at me, then she brushed my hair away from my forehead. “I’m certain you will be.”
When I went back to our room, Natty wasn’t there so I went outside to look for her. I found her crying in the gazebo. “Please, Anya, leave me alone.”
“What is it, Natty? What has happened?”
“I love him,” she said.
“You love who?” I asked.
“Who do you think?” She paused. “Win. Of course, Win.”
I considered this information. “I knew you had a crush on him when you were a child, but I had no idea you still did.”
“He is so good, Annie. Look how he has been this summer, trying to make you feel better, even after so much time has passed.” She sighed. “He still sees me like a kid, though.”
“How do you know? Have you spoken to him?”
“I’ve more than spoken to him. I tried to kiss him.”
“Natty!”
“We were picking apples for his mother. The first ones are starting to come in. And he looked so handsome, standing there in his blue-checked shirt. I’m sick with loving him,” she said.
“Natty, I had no idea you felt this way.”
“How could you not know? I’ve loved him since I was twelve. Since the moment we met him in Headmaster’s office.”
“What did he do when you tried to kiss him?”
“He pushed me away, and said he didn’t think of me like that. And I said I was seventeen, and that was hardly a child. And he said in fact it was. And I said you met Anya when you were sixteen. And he said that was different because he’d been young then, too. And then he said that he loved me like a friend and like a brother and that he would always be there for me. But then I pushed him away. I told him I didn’t want to be loved that way. I can’t even stand to look at him anymore.”
She sobbed with her entire body—her shoulders, her stomach, her mouth, and all her other parts were aligned in a unified display of misery.
“Oh Natty, please don’t cry.”
“Why shouldn’t I? I told him what you said at the beginning of the summer. I told him that you said that you would never get back together with him, but I think maybe he still has hope. Maybe if he knew there wasn’t any hope, he could love me instead. We’re not so different.”
“My darling Natty, would you honestly want some boy to love you because he thought you were like me?”
“I don’t care why. I wouldn’t even care! That’s how much I love him.”
“I don’t think Win thinks that we’re getting back together. But do you want me to try to talk to him?” I wanted her happiness more than my own.
“Would you?” Those eyes were wet and hopeful.
“I will make sure he understands,” I said. “And before summer is over, too.”
After dinner, I asked Win if he would go on a walk with me.
We wandered into the orchard, where the last peaches of summer were dropping from the trees. Win found one still on the branch and picked it. His torso was long and lean as he extended his arm to reach it. He offered me the peach, but I declined.
“I want to talk to you about something,” I said.
“What is it?” He took a bite of the peach.
“My sister,” I said.
“Yes, I thought that subject might come up.”
“She has the idea that if you knew that I didn’t think we were ever getting back together that you might be more open to … I’m sorry, this is awkward.”
“Perhaps I can help. She thinks that the reason I don’t want to start a relationship with her is because I still have feelings for you. And to answer your query, she’s wrong. I think she’s smart and adorable and everything a girl should be, but even if there were no Anya, Natty would not be for me. Are you sure you don’t want a peach? They’re very sweet this time of year.”
“Then why have you spent so much time with her? You can understand why she might have gotten the wrong idea.”
“Because you asked me to. Or have you forgotten that you did? Three years ago, you dispatched me to Sacred Heart.”
“Win.”
“I did it because it was something I could do for you. You so rarely, even when we were dating, asked me for help. Even though our relationship had ended badly, I was happy to do something for you.”