We drove in silence, my head spinning as I argued with myself over whether I had done the right thing or whether I should try to fix this. Joe didn’t look at me.
He pulled to a stop in front of the cottage. I unbuckled my seatbelt but didn’t open the door. I turned, looking at him in the dim light from the porch. “I’m sorry.”
He was staring straight ahead, his thumbs playing on the steering wheel. “Yeah. Me too.”
I got out and ran up the cottage steps without looking back, the tears starting to fall before I was even on the porch. I opened the front door, shut it behind me, and then slid to the floor against it, sobs shaking my body as I heard his car pull away into the darkness.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
June 1952
Hereford, Massachusetts
Evelyn’s bare feet hung out the car window as they crossed the bridge, her head pillowed contentedly on Fred’s lap. Her left hand rested against her thigh, where she could see the diamond, shimmering whenever the sun hit it, sending sparks of fiery light bouncing around the car.
“Do you smell that?” she asked, sitting up suddenly.
Fred inhaled. “Fish?”
She smacked his arm lightly. “Salt. Seaweed.” She paused, taking another deep breath. “Home.”
He looked at her, making sure she wasn’t changing her mind. He had just graduated and accepted a position at an engineering firm in Boston, but there was a bigger job in New York that he had his eye on. Their plan was to stay in Boston the next two years while she finished school, hopefully marrying and getting an apartment together before she finished, and then . . . Well, they’d see how his job situation played out.
She sat up and leaned on her crossed arms at the open window to better breathe in the sea air, and Fred smiled, watching her.
When they pulled up to the house on Main Street, he held out his hand.
Evelyn pouted and held her left hand to her chest, covering it with her right.
“Come on. You promised.”
“I changed my mind.”
“About me or the plan?”
She smiled coyly. “I think it’s stuck. We’ll just have to leave it and tell them together.”
“Evelyn.”
“I don’t see why this matters so much.”
“Because we want your father’s blessing. Now give me the ring. If all goes well, you’ll have it back tonight.”
She would have kept it going, but there was a flicker at the drawing room curtain, which meant Miriam was watching. “Fine.” She pulled the ring off, low enough to avoid prying eyes, and passed it to Fred, who put it in a velvet box that he then slid into his pocket. “But if he says no, I’m taking it back anyway.”
“I don’t doubt it.” Fred opened his car door and went to her side before retrieving their bags. He had been to the Main Street house during each of Evelyn’s breaks from school this year, but this time was much more important.
She climbed the steps holding her handbag and a hatbox, while Fred carried a suitcase. Her trunk would require two people to lift if she didn’t empty it first. Throwing open the front door, she announced loudly, “The prodigal daughter has returned for the summer!”
When no one replied, she looked left into the drawing room, where Miriam sat sedately knitting in an armchair.
“Oh, hello,” Miriam said.
Evelyn rolled her eyes as Fred walked in behind her. “You can quit the charade. I saw you at the window.”
Miriam put her knitting down, prepared to argue, when Vivie came bounding down the stairs, throwing herself at her older sister. “You’re home, you’re home, you’re finally home!”
“Did you think I wouldn’t be for your last summer before college?”
Vivie tilted her head toward Fred. “I didn’t know what you two had planned.” Evelyn held her at arm’s length to look at her sister, a baby no longer. She had lost the last of the chubbiness that lingered around her cheeks and had bobbed her hair, framing her face elegantly.
“You look so grown up!”
“Well, I am eighteen.”
“That’s true.” Evelyn pursed her lips, then turned to Fred. “Who do we know to set her up with? We’ll have to go on a double date.”
“No dates,” Miriam said, coming to the hall where her daughters stood. “We don’t break that rule anymore.” The air hung heavy with the unspoken remainder of her sentence, all four of them knowing what Miriam meant.
Fred dissolved the tension as Evelyn glowered at her mother. “Mrs. Bergman, thank you so much for having me this weekend.”