Dolly All the Time(85)

“Tell me what’s going on,” he says.

I look around his office, and I did not account for the telescope trained on Fenway Park. Or the tidal wave of memory of that first night together after we were in this office. I did not account for the way he’s looking at me like he really does want to know that I’m okay, biting his bottom lip the tiniest amount. The thing that I want to say, the thing I said fifty times in the car, will not dislodge itself from my throat. I try to ease my way in, coax it out. “I moved back to Whitfield.”

“Why?” he asks.

“Because I like it there and it’s home. And Gus likes it, and it’s nice to have family to lean on. That’s not why I’m here though. Gus got really sick. Your mom treated him, maybe saved him. Also not the point.” I’m standing with my hands on the back of the chair. Then I put them behind my back and then on my hips. I turn to Naomi and she nods at me. “I was in the hospital waiting room, thinking about Gus and what it would feel like to lose him.” My voice cracks and I take a sip of water. “I thought about Christopher in that same hospital and my mom. And how she left. And how no one ever said anything, we just moved on. And I think what I came to tell you is that I’ve hit a wall with that.”

He’s tense in his seat, mouth in a firm line. He leans forward like he’s preparing to speak, and I raise my hand. I’m not leaving without saying the thing.

“You broke my heart. Broke it. And you left. You messengered me a goddamn check. Like an asshole. And it would be like me to just move on from that. Maybe you’d come to the fish house this summer and I’d be cordial wrapping up your halibut so it wouldn’t be awkward. So I’m here to tell you that you broke my heart and I’m going to let it be awkward.”

“Boom,” Naomi says.

I shoot her a look. “You had a good, rare thing and you blew it up. You were going to change the world for me, remember? So either you’re a liar or you’re pathetic. And I’m not going to make that okay for you.” I look around the room like I’m just coming to. That was a lot more words than I was planning on, but I stand behind them. I actually feel better. “Okay, I think I’m done.”

“Can I say something?” he asks.

“Can you, Stewart? Because in the past six months you’ve said nothing.”

“Ha!” It just slips out of Naomi. “Sorry.”

“I completely lost my family’s confidence in me by trying to make them have confidence in me.”

“Irony,” says Naomi.

“And now I have to clean up the mess,” he says.

“Of course you do. I would too, because we’re the same in a lot of ways,” I say. “But the difference is that I have the courage to change. I have the courage to get uncomfortable and, believe me, this is uncomfortable.” For some reason, I motion to the telescope. “But here you are, back to killing yourself to get a job you don’t even want.” He raises an eyebrow at me and leans back in his seat. “You don’t. You just think you have to. You have no idea what you want.”

Smithers beeps in through the intercom. “You’re going to need to leave soon for your twelve-o’clock.”

“I’m fine,” Stewart says into the intercom. He looks tired. I didn’t notice it at first, but he’s thinner and his eyes are a bit sunken.

“Remember that time you asked me what I wanted? Remember? We were in my bed, that first morning we woke up together.”

He blinks like I’ve just punched him and now I am wild with power. “I remember,” he says.

“I said this.” I gesture between us. “And I meant it. I get credit for that because it’s hard to say what you want.”

“But she’s getting great at it,” Naomi says.

“I am.” I take a breath and square my shoulders. “Get your shit together, Stewart.”

I turn to leave and Naomi whispers, “Nothing on the table.”

“Fine,” I say, and turn back around. “Thank you very much for the renovation of the sleeping porch. It looks absolutely lovely.”

Naomi nods in approval and we turn on our heels and leave.





Chapter 38





Even before we’ve gotten out of Boston, I feel as if I have put down something heavy. I can feel it in the way my shoulders melt against the passenger seat of Naomi’s car. I have gotten it off my chest. Now Stewart can stay up all night ruminating if he wants. But that’s not my problem. Stewart left, he quit. I loved, I opened up, I tried. I spoke my mind. I put myself first.

“I could not have said any of it better myself,” Naomi keeps saying between repeating her favorite parts. “?‘Pathetic.’ ‘Get your shit together.’ I mean, you were in the zone.”

“Well, that part was obviously spontaneous. I can’t believe I finally said it all. We should have stormed the castle months ago.”

Rocky trills and Naomi laughs. “Here we go. I’m predicting joint pain.”

“Good Sports, this is a recorded line. How can I help you? Ah, joint pain.” Naomi laughs and I shh her. “In your shoulders? It’s quite common.” I think of Atlas carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, just like Stewart does. Just like I’ve always done. “You know, one solution is to just put it down. Unclip it and let it plop to the floor. Yes, the floor. And then don’t pick it up again unless you’re going to return it. In which case you need the original packing materials, which I’m guessing you don’t have. Okay, then, just leave it. Right where it dropped. You weren’t meant to carry all that around. You’re welcome.”