She dabbed the corner of her mouth with her thumb and smiled. “I’m a short-timer, Cooper.”
He shrugged. “Want to fool around for a short time?”
Yes, I do please, yes, I very much do please, let’s flop on top of the table please, I don’t even mind if I fall off. But when she looked at him again, she felt herself falling through twenty years, hearing him ask her why they had to break up when they only had two more years to be apart and they’d already done two years. Why couldn’t it work? What was the problem? Oh, dammit, dammit. She took his hand from her side, moved it. “Nick, I don’t know. I really want to. I really, very much want to, you know that. But I…don’t know.”
“Did I say something wrong?”
She could not say you are too good. She could not say this will only get worse. So she just put her hand over his. “I’m really leaving. I’m not moving back.”
He nodded. “Okay.”
“I know I started…that. I did. And I’m not trying to be weird about it, I just don’t want to start something pretending it’s going to be anything other than what it can actually be. And as much as I’d like to just sink into this for a few more weeks, I think it’s going to get really complicated.”
He nodded and hooked his finger through hers. “Fair enough. Probably just as well. The Missing Laurie Sassalyn routine knocked the wind out of me when I was twenty. I don’t know if I’d be able to do it again a month from now. I kind of thought maybe a little nostalgia thing, you know? But you’re right, I’m not sure I know how to wade into this with only one foot, now that I’m here.”
When Laurie had broken up with him between sophomore and junior year, she’d given back that hoodie, given back the paperbacks he’d left on the table by her bed. She’d told him the truth: She knew he was permanently in love with Calcasset, and she wasn’t. He saw it as his future, and she saw it as the place she’d always love, but like you love an old movie. He would go back after he graduated from college; she would not. And, maybe in order to feel less guilty, she’d somehow told herself he’d take his basic Nick-ness, his tendency to make friends everywhere, and just keep going.
Knocked the wind out of me. She nodded. She took back her hand and rubbed his shoulder. “I’m sure I’m going to regret this in about ten minutes.”
They gathered up the papers, and he locked up the library and drove her home to Dot’s. He didn’t walk her to the door. Probably better for both of them.
Chapter Ten
The next time Laurie saw the Grim Reaper was that Thursday, and this time, when he sat himself down in her living room and put the duck on the couch next to him, his expression looked significantly cloudier. “So I do have some news. I’m going to let you read it. Here’s the report they gave me.”
It was printed on Wesson & Truitt stationery, under their bright blue logo.
Wood duck decoy, approximately 2008. Produced in bulk in the style of Carl Kittery and distributed to museum and souvenir shops as part of a promotion commemorating the history of American folk art. Also sold at traveler locations including Logan Airport. Original sale price approximately $25.99. Current value similar. Many examples available through online auction sites and estate sales, selling for approximately $30.00. Further appraisal not necessary or recommended.
She just stared at it. “Oh,” she said. “Oh, okay.”
“I know this isn’t the news you were hoping for.”
She put down the paper on the couch next to her. “No, I mean, everybody said from the beginning it was a long shot.” To her, it was still a beautiful wooden bird that had secrets under its wings, even with the knowledge it had been picked up at a museum store or a craft store or maybe just a dollar store. “I guess she didn’t have it out because it was junk, you know? She did have really good taste.”
Matt shook his head. “That’s not the way to think about it. Junk, not junk, who knows, right? You see a painting and it’s real or it’s a forgery, but either way, it looks the same on your wall. You like the duck? Then you like the duck. Keep it, put it somewhere, tell people the story.”
“It’s funny,” Laurie said. “It turns out Kittery had a house up in Bar Harbor. Maybe a studio, too. I think I just got a little carried away. Kind of cast a spell on myself. And I think if I kept it, I’d just keep feeling really dumb about it.”
“Look, you don’t need to feel dumb. It happens to me practically every day,” he said. “I’ll see a sketch or a letter or a vase or something, and I get totally obsessed with it. Totally preoccupied with finding out what it is and where it came from.” He took a breath. “Listen. I still like your duck. I think it’s a nice piece. I think somebody is going to want it for an office or a dining room or something. I’ll tell you what: I’ll still give you fifty bucks for it. Just like before.”