She could hear the river’s burble, and could see sunshine glinting off its surface, dappling the ground as it filtered through the trees. Diana stretched her arms over her head, then grasped one elbow and pulled her arm behind her neck.
“You know,” she finally said, “I told you about meeting Michael at a kind of low point in my life.” Daisy nodded. She hadn’t wanted to push Diana for details about the boyfriend she hardly ever mentioned, but, at their last lesson, Diana had talked about feeling adrift when she was younger, not sure about where she wanted to live or what she wanted to do.
With her back toward Daisy, her feet planted on the grassy ground, Diana said, in a low, dull voice, “It was a little more than just being confused about my choices, actually. I’d been raped.”
“Oh my God!” Daisy said. “Oh, that’s awful.” She reached out, almost blindly, wanting to touch the other woman’s shoulder or her arm. Somehow, she wound up grabbing Diana’s hand. For an instant, there was nothing. She felt a flare of panic, wondering if she’d gone too far, and then Diana squeezed back. “I’m so sorry.”
Diana nodded, releasing Daisy’s hand, turning away as she shook her hair loose and tied it back again. “It was a long time ago.”
“But still…” Daisy felt a clenching around her heart; a tightening in her throat. She hated the thought of her friend being hurt even as it thrilled her that Diana trusted her enough to tell her. “I don’t think that’s the kind of thing you ever get over.”
“It changes you,” Diana said. “Here, let’s sit.” She led Daisy over to a bench, with a view of the ducks dipping their heads into the water as toddlers tossed handfuls of bread at them. “It took me a long time to trust anyone. A long time,” she repeated. “There were years when I couldn’t. I didn’t let anyone get close. I didn’t tell anyone what had happened. Not even my mom and dad.”
“That must have been hard.”
Nodding, Diana said, “I was very lonely.”
Daisy could barely breathe. I’ve been lonely, too, she thought. But Diana had survived a sexual assault. What was Daisy’s excuse? Getting married too soon? Missing Hannah?
With her gaze on the water, Diana said, “I tried not to think about it for a long time, after it happened. Michael figured it out, and eventually I told him the whole story. He was the first one I’d ever said it out loud to, and I thought he’d run screaming, but he didn’t.”
“I’m glad you’ve got someone,” Daisy said. She had a million questions—when had this happened to Diana? At work? In college? Had she gone to the police? Had the guy been arrested? How could she, Daisy, keep such a thing from happening to her daughter? But Diana’s jaw was set; her gaze looked severe, the lines of her cheekbones and chin etched in the afternoon sunshine. Daisy thought of a painting, from the single art history class she’d taken in college, of Judith slaying Holofernes. Judith had worn the same kind of expression, as she’d held, dangling, the general’s severed head.
“Michael sounds terrific,” Daisy said, instead of asking additional questions. “I’d love to meet him.”
Diana gave a brief nod, and seemed to gather herself. “And I’d like to meet Hal, too, of course.”
“Of course!” said Daisy, a little too quickly, in a voice that was a little too loud. Somehow, for reasons she didn’t want to consider too carefully, Diana meeting Hal was the last thing she wanted. Hal wouldn’t like Diana any more than he’d liked Hannah, or any of the other women Daisy had liked. A great finder of fault and picker of nits was her husband. At first, Daisy had tried to pretend that there wasn’t a problem, but Hannah, of course, was not fooled. （“Oh, come on,” she’d said when Daisy had tried to protest that Hal liked her fine, “every time I walk into a room, he runs out like his hair’s on fire and his ass is catching.”） Hannah had argued that Hal was jealous of Daisy’s time, that he wanted her all to himself. Once, Daisy had found it flattering. Now…
“Daisy.” Diana was looking right at her, with an intensity to her gaze that Daisy found unsettling. Diana’s hands were on her hips, the light flaring off the reflective strips sewn onto her sleeves. “There’s something else I need to tell you. What happened to me that summer…”
Before Diana could continue, Daisy’s phone trilled, and she saw the Melville School’s number on the screen.