“I’ve spoken to my father and he’s arranged for a crew to pick up the boat next week.”
“I can take the boat back alone, as I’ve said. It’s perfectly safe to sail solo. I took it to Blacks Harbour, for God’s sake.”
“That was probably not such a good idea,” Tom says. “And the sail home is much longer. Too long for one person.”
“Christ, Tom. Can you try not to be so . . . Look, there’s no need, that’s al I’m saying. I’m happy to sail the boat myself.”
Tom says no. He says it’s not safe to sail solo overnight. He says his classes start on the thirtieth and he’s planning on flying back the day before, but he’s happy to arrange a flight for Mike now, if he wants to get back.
“I’l cal a friend,” Mike sounds almost desperate. “How about that? I’l cal a friend to sail back with me so that there’re two guys for the journey. Someone with lots of experience.”
There’s a moment’s silence. And then Tom says, “No. I’m sorry, Mike. But the answer’s no.”
A moment later Mike blasts past me through the hal . I have been feeling almost sorry for him, but the look he gives me is so ful of anger and violence that I take a step back. He hisses at me, “I hope you’re satisfied, you dumb bitch. You don’t know what you’ve done.”
And then he is gone.
Tom finds me. He takes me by the hand and leads me to the front of the house where he hugs me and tel s me everything is going to be okay.
I hug him back and say, “I know that, stupid,” and what was al this about him staying. I half-expect Tom to flush and stutter and ask if I am okay with it but there is none of that. He just looks at me steadily and said he isn’t ready to walk away from us. That he thinks there is something real here, and he’d like to spend more time together. I am the one who flushes and stammers, like a fool. I am the one who gets tears in my eyes. And then he tel s me he loves me and I tel him I love him too and then I start crying and for some reason it’s real y hard to stop. He just hugs me. He doesn’t want me staying in the house when Mike is so pissed, so he drove me straight back to the hotel. He’s going to pick me up tomorrow once Mike’s gone to the airport. I’m so glad Mike’s going. He’s toxic to be around.
And now Tom and I get two ful weeks together. I’m going to beg Rosa to give me some time off. I can’t real y afford to take time off work, but I’l figure something out.
I trust Tom more than I’ve trusted anyone since my mother died.
And I know he’s a good person. I love him. I think I can be better with him. That’s a lot to start with, right? And now he’s going to stay so we can find out what else there could be. And I’m so, so happy.
Hannah
SIX
WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 28, 2019
On Wednesday morning Hannah cal ed Jan and got an update on how things were going in Maine. In Hannah’s absence, Jan had committed to coming in every day, doing a little work about the house, and keeping an eye on Laura. Laura didn’t have a job. That just wasn’t possible for her because of her PTSD and extreme anxiety. Her attempts to work had always ended in disaster—alcohol abuse and a shame spiral that was very difficult to turn around. What worked best for Laura was sticking to a routine. Monday to Saturday, she and Hannah walked together in the morning. Sunday was for sleeping in. While Hannah was at school, Laura read or visited the library or, if she was feeling wel , her yoga class. They ate dinner together at five P.M. every day, almost without exception. It was a very rigid schedule, but it was what worked. The predictability of the routine soothed Laura’s frayed nerves, and she was happier and much more comfortable when they kept things simple. Leaving her alone like this would be like setting off a bomb in the middle of her fragile stability.
Hannah had worried and worried about the decision to come to Charlottesvil e, had weighed the risks of going versus the risks of doing nothing and ultimately decided that she had no choice. But it was one thing to accept that she had to go when the risks were stil hypothetical, now she had to face the real-world consequences of that decision. According to Jan, Laura was eating al right （which meant she was probably eating almost nothing） but she was agitated. She was wandering in the garden, spending time on her computer, not settling down with a book. When pushed, Jan—the gentlest of women—had admitted that Laura was snappish and easily irritated. To most people this might seem like nothing to worry about, but anyone who knew Laura wel would recognize signs of an imminent implosion. Knowing that the effort was completely inadequate, but needing to do something, Hannah got on the phone again, cal ed a local bakery, and placed an order for muffins to be delivered to the house. She thought about cal ing Laura, but they had already planned a cal for the evening, and it would be better to stick to their arrangement. She should press on with her work. At least that way, she might have some progress to report.