Chapter 8
Present Day
Samantha Coleman had Rod’s best interests in mind when she suggested the blind date. “You haven’t been on a date in how many years?” She gasped when he told her the truth.
Rod wasn’t embarrassed about his single status. Not really. He knew about plenty of unhappy couples who stayed married out of convenience or habit rather than love. He was grateful that he could do whatever he wanted when he wanted it.
But that didn’t mean he wasn’t often lonely.
Samantha’s friend Maxine was a few years younger than Rod. Although Samantha didn’t want to tell Rod too much about her before the blind date, she confessed that Maxine had gotten divorced a few years back, didn’t have children, and was usually “incredibly interesting to talk to.”
“Even if you’re not into her romantically, I still think you’ll have a good time,” Samantha had pushed it.
Rod found himself fidgeting outside the coffee shop as a balmy July wind pressed against his button-down shirt and made it stick to his sweaty chest. He swept his fingers through his hair and glanced left, then right down the sidewalk, feeling like a fool. Tourists swarmed downtown, most of them as red as lobsters due to horrible sunburns. Could they tell he was going on a date? Did they pity him?
Because he was overeager (or overly frightened), Rod was early. That only upped his anxiety. He checked his phone for a sign from Maxine. Perhaps she planned to ghost him? Maybe she was going to cancel?
That was when he heard his name. A beautiful woman in her late thirties stepped out from a crowd of tourists and shook her head so that her red tresses swept down her shoulders. She smiled at him and stretched out her hand.
“I’m Maxine. I hope you haven’t been waiting long?”
Rod’s heart thudded with apprehension. “I’m Rod. And no. I just got here,” he lied.
Maxine’s smile widened. “I thought I would never get through this crowd. It’s crazy down here.”
Rod laughed nervously. “I shouldn’t have suggested this coffee shop. It’s right in the middle of the chaos. I wasn’t thinking.”
“But it’s beautiful down here. I don’t come to the Historic District enough.”
“You live in Siasconset?”
“I do,” Maxine said, tucking her unruly red curls behind her ears.
Rod turned to press open the coffee shop door, which activated a bell. A barista hurried behind the counter to take their orders—a latte for Rod and a matcha for Maxine. Rod had never had a matcha and studied the curious foamy green drink as Maxine made easy small talk. She seemed like the sort of woman who breezed through life, whom everyone liked. And she was certainly attractive.
Rod told himself to stay in the moment. As they headed for a corner table, he forced himself to ask her questions about her work and life on the island.
“I’m a tourism specialist,” she explained.
“You’re the person to blame for all these crowds, then?” Rod teased.
Maxine laughed. “I suppose so. But to be honest with you, I love my job. I bring people from all over the world to Nantucket to experience our unique beauty. You know, I’m not from here originally. I was born in Ohio. I know firsthand how wildly different Nantucket is from anywhere else. The first time I came here as a teenager, I thought—this is it. It’s paradise.”
Rod’s heart opened. He loved when people spoke so eloquently about Nantucket.
Briefly, Rod told Maxine about the past three years of his life. “I never thought college was in the cards for me. I had my daughter at a young age, and she always came first. But now that she’s grown up with a child of her own, I figured it was time to do something for me.”
“That must have been something. Did you have classes with twentysomethings?”
“There were even a few eighteen-year-olds in one of my classes,” Rod remembered. “They called me Grandpa, but we mostly got along.”
Maxine cackled. “That’s rude!”
“They were funny,” Rod admitted. “They were always rolling into class late, hungover or wearing pajamas. I wanted to tell them how important these years were and not to take them for granted. But I knew that would fall on deaf ears.”
“It’s a blessing to go to school later. You know how important it is.”
“I felt exactly that way,” Rod said.
He was so swept up in the conversation that he let his latte get cold. He smiled inwardly, thanking his lucky stars that Samantha had forced him out on a date. Perhaps this was the next era of his life. First school, then romance.
After the coffee shop closed, Maxine suggested they walk around the Historic District. Her eyes were alight, and Rod sensed that neither wanted the date to end. Rod bubbled with expectation. Once, as Maxine studied a dress in a shop window, he allowed himself to imagine a future where they went on vacation and did things like this—walking, talking, drinking coffee, shopping. He imagined taking her hand.
And then, Maxine said, “Wait! Isn’t that the Sutton Book Club?”
Rod followed her gaze down the street to find the familiar library and community center, which now housed a brand-new restaurant. A lump formed in his throat.
“Yeah. It is.”
Maxine touched his shoulder. “I’ve heard insane things about the new restaurant.”
Rod smiled nervously.
“Maybe this is too forward,” Maxine continued, “but are you hungry? I know it’s our first blind date or whatever. But I’ve been dying to try that restaurant. Are you game?”
Rod switched his weight from foot to foot and searched his mind for a way out of this. Maxine’s smile began to fade at his silence, and Rod’s hands felt clammy.
“Okay. Sure,” Rod said finally. “I could eat.”
Rod followed Maxine into the Sutton Book Club as his head swam with memories. He was a teenager again, listening to the Sutton sisters giggle in the next room as he browsed through the books. He was foolish and gangly. He knew nothing.
The restaurant was held upstairs, where Esme Sutton traditionally held her veteran dinner nights. Now, garlic, oregano, and thyme filled the air, the sound of sizzling skillets and clanking tools came from the back kitchen, and Nantucket tourists and residents sat over nourishing platters, smiling as they exchanged stories and dined. A hostess approached to seat them at a two-person table near the window. Rod felt like he was in a dream.
As Rod and Maxine sat down, a familiar face streamed out of the kitchen and smiled at him. “Rod! Hey!”
It was Ben, Doug’s roommate. Rod had seen him just yesterday when he’d gone to their house to check on them again. Ben grabbed two menus, placed them on the table before them, and smiled confusedly at Maxine.
“Maxine, this is Ben,” Rod stuttered, “and Ben, this is Maxine.”
They shook hands as Maxine’s smile widened. “I didn’t realize you knew people who worked here, Rod!”
“Rod knows everyone who works here!” Ben announced as Rod’s heart sank. “I can recommend the Bordeaux tonight if you’re interested in wine. And Rebecca made a special carbonara tonight. It’s exquisite, honestly.”
“The Bordeaux sounds nice,” Rod said as Maxine shrugged. He wanted a glass of wine to calm his nerves. He yearned to return to the bubbling goodwill of the earlier part of their date.
When Ben returned to the kitchen, Maxine gave Rod a confused smile. “You know everyone who works here?”
“I’m sure I don’t know everyone,” Rod offered. “But it’s a small island. I grew up here. You know how it is.”
After Ben poured their glasses of wine, Rod and Maxine were allowed a few minutes of normalcy. They chatted about the decorations in the restaurant, Esme’s commitment to veterans (which was displayed with a photograph of the members of the Sutton Book Club Veteran Dinner), and Rod’s work.
For a little while, Rod thought everything was going smoothly. That they were going to eat dinner, perhaps have some dessert, and maybe hold hands on their walk back to their cars.
Instead, Rebecca Sutton stepped out of the kitchen, dried her hands on her apron, and stared at Rod as though he were a ghost.
Rod’s heart thrummed in his chest as she approached. Maxine noticed his change and muttered, “Rod? Are you okay?” She refilled his water and urged him to drink it.
“I’m fine. Really,” Rod muttered before turning to look up at Rebecca.
“Rod. Hey.” Rebecca looked just as nervous as Rod felt.
“Rebecca, hello.” Rod’s voice sounded false. “This is a beautiful restaurant. Congratulations.”
Rebecca’s lips twitched. “Thank you. I, um. I didn’t know you still lived around here. I’ve been back for a while and haven’t run into you.”
“I just got back, too,” Rod explained. “I was at the University of Massachusetts, finishing my degree.”
“Wow. Congratulations,” Rebecca said.
Maxine glared at Rod fully. He knew the exchange with Rebecca was terribly awkward. More than that, Rod hadn’t warned Maxine about his connection to the Sutton Book Club prior to their entry. He was proving himself to be a skeezy character. His cheeks were warm with embarrassment.
Another figure emerged from the kitchen and raised her hand to wave. It was Esme, and her smile was telling—soft and sad.
“Hi, Esme,” Rod said, stumbling to his feet to shake her hand.
After a terrible pause, he said, “I was so sorry to hear about Larry.”
Esme’s hand felt very small in his. She bit her lip and said, “Thank you, Rod. And thank you for coming in. It’s been a while.” Her face was filled with pain as she added, “That daughter of yours seems special. And your darling grandson! I see them at the park sometimes when I go for walks.”
The air between them was taut with tension. Slowly, Rod returned to his seat and wrapped his hand around the stem of his wineglass.
“We’ll come back out after dinner,” Esme assured him, “so we can catch up a bit more.”
“Wonderful,” Rod said, tugging his hair as Maxine’s eyes practically bore holes through him. “Looking forward.”
After Rebecca and Esme disappeared in the kitchen, Rod forced himself to look up at Maxine. She was pale. She sipped her wine and then dabbed her lips with the linen napkin.
“Rod?” Maxine began tentatively. “What the heck is going on?”
Rod stuttered. He’d known Maxine for two hours and the Suttons for most of his life. How could he possibly explain the intricacies of their relationship? How could he tell her everything that had happened in a way that wouldn’t freak her out?
“I told you,” Rod said, “I was raised on the island. I know just about everyone.”
“You don’t just know those people,” Maxine said. “They’re your ghosts.”
Rod’s chest was tight. Unable to look her in the eye, he sipped his wine.
“Why did you let me come in here?” Maxine asked quietly, her eyes glinting with tears.
Rod shook his head. He understood exactly where she was coming from. She assumed Rebecca was an ex-girlfriend and that there was tremendous pain between them. She assumed Rod had brought her into a burning house of memories. She wasn’t wrong.
“I can explain,” Rod said.
But Maxine was already on her feet. “I have to go,” she said. “Goodbye.”
Maxine turned on her heel and disappeared down the staircase, leaving Rod with a mostly full bottle of wine and a busted heart. When Ben came out to take his order, Rod just shook his head, paid for the bottle, and hurried out before things got more complicated. He’d known better than to do this. He respected Maxine far more than he’d shown.
Maybe he was better off alone.
As he walked slowly through the dying light of the evening, his cell phone buzzed in his pocket. It was a text from his daughter.
RENEE: Dad? Are you around?
RENEE: Can you come over?
RENEE: I’m sort of freaking out.