Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
T hat afternoon, Margot helped Lillian take her medication and suggested, “Why don’t you lie down for a little while? The doctor said you need a little more rest than you used to.”
It had been a busy morning: a doctor’s appointment, followed by the grocery store, followed by a run-in with Margot’s favorite ghost, Noah Carson. Probably because she was exhausted, her eyes lined with red, Lillian didn’t argue for long. “I have to play cards later,” she reminded Margot as she mounted the staircase. “Tell your father I won’t be home.”
Margot went to the kitchen and tried to focus on the dishes piled up from breakfast and coffee. But she’d washed no more than half a dish before she cut the water and collapsed into the nearest chair. Outside, another snowfall swirled, matching her inner chaos, her turmoil, and her excitement. She’d seen Noah Carson today. Noah Carson had run after her.
Noah Carson hadn’t forgotten her.
Over the years, Margot had, of course, allowed herself to search online for Noah Carson a handful of times. It wasn’t his style to be on social media, which was something that made her like him even more. But she had learned via the Nantucket High School website that Noah worked with at-risk youths, helping them after rocky periods, assisting them in fixing relationships with their parents, working to find them jobs and next steps. He was the sort of person who never gave up on you. Margot knew that firsthand.
When everything had happened in Margot’s life, when everything had exploded, Noah had said, “Let me help you fix this. Let me help you with what’s next.”
But Margot had been too broken to let him. She’d left instead.
With many hours to kill before her “date,” or whatever it was, Margot tiptoed back into her father’s old study and sat down with her mother’s diaries. She knew she was digging around where she didn’t belong. She knew it was wrong. But curiosity was like a fire in her belly. She couldn’t help but flip to an entry from the day of her birth.
October 3, 1986
This morning, our baby girl came into the world. Margaret Sarah Earnheart, seven pounds, nine ounces. She was quiet at first, looking at Frank and me with all this curiosity and eagerness. I burst into tears immediately. I don’t know why. I think a part of me thought I didn’t have it in me to take care of her. Frank held her first, and the doctor and nurses left for a while to tend to other patients. Another baby girl was born this morning, but I think they’re tourists, or at least Frank said he didn’t recognize the dad.
Frank looks so smitten with the baby. He keeps telling me it’s going to be better this time. “We’ve practiced enough, haven’t we? She’ll be perfect.” But I can’t help but feel a sense of foreboding. What if I’m not enough for her?
It’s strange. People have babies to fill their hearts, I think. But with each of my babies, I’ve felt my heart breaking.
Soon, Daniel, Henry, and Melissa will come to meet their baby sister. They’re apprehensive. Daniel keeps talking about “all that racket” that’s coming. I understand what he means. Usually, a baby comes into the world louder than they’ll ever be later on.
I wonder—do most adults have the instinct to scream and yell like a baby? What makes them stop?
But still, Margot is quite restrained. I wonder what she senses about the world that other babies don’t.
After that, Margot stopped reading, her heart pounding. Her mind’s eye filled with images of a much younger version of her mother, holding Margot on the first day of her life. The fact that her mother had looked down at her with confusion and fear and a broken heart made sense to Margot. What was a baby if not a promise to yourself—a promise that you had to keep yourself upright and clean and focused for another eighteen years? It was an enormous commitment.
Was that why Margot never tried to have a baby?
Or was that because she’d never managed to love anyone but Noah?
Margot didn’t have it in her to keep reading the diary. While her mother slept, she cleaned the kitchen, tidied the living room, and called Gabby at the flower shop to check on things. Gabby was exuberant. She’d taken to the job like a fish to water.
“I feel so proud,” Gabby was saying, speaking too quickly. “I know it’s your shop, and I know you’ll come back soon, but right now, I get to pretend it’s mine.”
Margot laughed. “Your bouquets are sensational. I’m sure everyone is pleased you’re there.”
“They’re not as good as yours,” Gabby protested.
But Margot sensed in Gabby’s voice that Gabby thought her bouquets were just as good as Margot’s—maybe even better. Margot was glad her flower shop was in such capable hands.
“Oh!” Gabby said. “Pete came by the shop.”
Margot snorted with surprise.
“I think he wants to give it another go,” Gabby said, a smile in her voice. “I think he regrets it, you know? Breaking up with you like that. On Valentine’s Day! But I don’t know if he deserves you.”
“Did I ever tell you I used to love someone?” Margot said suddenly, surprising herself. “I thought I was going to marry him.”
Gabby was stunned into silence. “Sorry. How much time have I spent with you now? Why haven’t you mentioned him?”
Margot’s cheeks were hot. “I never thought I’d see him again.”
“He’s on Nantucket, isn’t he?”
Margot laughed girlishly, in the same way she’d laughed when she’d seen Noah earlier today.
“You’ve seen him,” Gabby said softly.
“Yes. I mean, briefly. But we’re going out. Today.”
Gabby gasped. “Oh. My. Gosh. You’re never coming back, are you?”
Margot cackled. “What are you talking about? Of course, I am. I can’t just leave my life behind.”
Gabby sniffed. “Flower shops are ubiquitous. You can open them wherever you want to.”
Suddenly, from the stairwell came the sound of Lillian’s voice. “What is that racket?”
Margot got up and called to her mother, “Sorry, Mom! I’m just on the phone. It’s a business thing.”
“It doesn’t sound like a business thing,” Lillian said. “When your father took business calls, he never sounded like that.”
It was the first time today that Lillian had used the past tense when referring to her long-dead husband. Did that mean this version of Lillian was closer to the “real” Lillian? Was the Alzheimer’s medication working?
“Let me know if you need anything,” Margot said to Gabby.
“Good luck,” Gabby called back. “Miss you. Never come home.”
“Ha.”
Before Lillian’s big card date, Margot helped her get ready. Together, they picked out a pretty dark purple dress and styled Lillian’s copper hair into a big updo that made her look grand and stately. She styled the dress with a brooch. Margot wondered when it was that women stopped wearing brooches as often. They were quite beautiful. She searched through her mother’s brooches and selected an emerald-green one for herself, thinking it was something that she and Noah could laugh about later.
Noah!
But what if he thought the brooch was weird? She stumbled with indecision.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Lillian hurried for the staircase. Removing the brooch quickly and putting it back, Margot went after her and came up behind her just as Lillian opened the door to greet Vic Rondell. Lillian blushed like a schoolgirl.
My mother had a crush. Margot knew for certain.
Vic Rondell was just as handsome and charming as he’d been yesterday. He kissed Lillian on the cheek and handed her a small bouquet—white roses and lilies, the formation of which Margot had to applaud. Vic knew how to pick ’em.
What if Margot did open a flower shop in Nantucket?
What if she stuck around to see what happened?
What if she opened her heart to change?
Don’t get ahead of yourself, Earnheart. For all you know, Noah has a girlfriend and doesn’t want to get involved with you.
Remember what you did? Remember how you abandoned him?
Remember how you don’t deserve love?
Vic looked Margot in the eye. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get here earlier to catch up with you, Margaret.”
Nobody called Margot that. She fixed her smile. “Oh, it’s okay. Really.” Then she added, “Margot is fine, by the way.”
Vic waved his hand. “Of course. I didn’t want to be too familiar.”
“Good manners,” Lillian said. She stepped past Vic and headed for his car.
“Where is the card game?” Margot asked.
“It’s at the Sutton Book Club,” he said. “Do you know it?”
I was raised here. Of course, I know it.
“Yes,” she said, maintaining a smile. “I won’t be far from there. I can pick her up when you’re done.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Vic said.
“It’s just that she shouldn’t be alone,” Margot said under her breath, grateful her mother was already near his fancy car and unable to hear.
“I know that very well,” Vic said. “I’ve spent a great deal of time with her.”
Implied in what he said was, I’ve been a better son than you’ve been a daughter, and I’m not even related by blood.
Margot stiffened. “Okay. Do you know what time you’ll be back?”
“Take your time,” Vic said. “I’ll be here when you get back from wherever it is you’ll be.”
“I’ll be home around eight or so?” Margot said.
“Whenever, darling!” Vic winked and turned back to help Lillian into the passenger seat.
Margot watched from the front stoop, coat-less, with her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Vic drove slowly down the driveway and out of sight.
Why did Margot have the feeling he was up to no good?
She had to believe there were good people in the world. Maybe he was one of them.
But he’s no Noah, she thought.
With her mother out of the house, Margot hurried to prepare for her date, or whatever it was. Her and Noah’s “catch up.” Their chance to—what? Talk about everything that had gone wrong in their lives. Or it was Noah’s chance to tell her how magical his life had been and Margot’s chance to lie about how great hers was. Yes, she would agree. It’s so great we broke up when we did. She supposed she had a few facts to back up the goodness of her life. She’d been voted best business of Boston. She’d had a few okay boyfriends. Gabby—her employee—was probably her best friend. Ugh!
Idling in the car, she added lipstick, then immediately regretted it, thinking that it made her look like she was trying too hard. Had she worn lipstick in high school? She suddenly couldn’t remember. She certainly hadn’t needed it.
She regretted every moment she’d spent thinking of the cosmetic industry as a younger woman. Now, she needed it desperately.
Margot drove to Ralph’s with the radio off. She wanted to concentrate. Terror gripped her at a red light when it looked as though the vehicle behind her was about to slam into the back of her car. But the driver braked just in the nick of time.
It would have been terrible to call Noah and tell him she couldn’t make it for something as stupid as a fender-bender. But she knew Noah would have understood. He would have said, How can I help? And maybe, if he’d said that, Margot would have melted into his arms and begged him not to let go.
I’m pathetic , she thought. But when she parked behind the truck that Noah was getting out of, her heart filled with gladness. Here we go.
Now that they didn’t have Lillian distracting them, Margot and Noah walked right up to one another and hugged. It happened so swiftly, like two magnets springing together, that Margot didn’t have a chance to second-guess it. When their hug broke, her eyes were filled with tears, and she promptly blinked them away.
“Let’s go in,” Noah said with a laugh. “I’m freezing.”
Margot followed Noah to Ralph's front door. Entering was like going through a time warp. With its dark wooden walls, taxidermy deer heads, and mahogany bar counters, Ralph’s was entrenched back in time. Because Ralph himself had always hated television, he’d refused to hang TVs in his bar. “My bar is for talking, not for watching,” he’d said. He wanted people to relate to each other.
It was a surprise—and a blessing—that it was the same as it always had been. Margot and Noah grabbed stools at the bar because that was where they’d always sat in the past, and they ordered a white wine for Margot and a beer for Noah. From the speakers, a Bruce Springsteen song played, one they’d previously spent late summer nights scream-singing in the car. Noah raised his beer, and Margot clinked her wine against it. Suddenly, she was consumed with anxiety. From here on the stool, she could smell his cologne, his sweat, and his soap, and his smell was slightly different from what it once had been, proof of how much of a man he was now.
But suddenly, the door that led to Ralph’s office opened, and Ralph poked his head out to talk to the bartender. “Ron? Can I steal you for a sec?” But before Ron could respond, Ralph spotted Margot and Noah and careened out of the office. He was far quicker than he should have been, given his age.
“My goodness, look what the cat dragged in!” he said, shaking his head. “What year is it?”
His smile yanked Margot back through time. She matched his.
“Ralph, it’s so good to see you,” she said.
Ralph grinned and turned his eyes from Margot to Noah and back again. “Wow. I don’t know what to say. The two of you! Together! In my bar!”
Margot’s heart fluttered.
“Noah, explain yourself!” Ralph ordered.
Noah laughed. “We’re just old friends, catching up.”
“Am I going to have to kick you out for singing too loudly?” Ralph teased. It had only happened once, but it had been nearly two thirty in the morning, far too late for teenagers in a bar that should have carded them.
“We’ll try to behave,” Margot assured him.
“I don’t know if I can trust you,” Ralph said, winking. “Where are you at these days, Margot? I have this feeling I read something about you. Weren’t you written up in the paper? Something about your business?”
Margot’s cheeks were hot. “I own a little flower shop in Beacon Hill.”
Ralph snapped his fingers. “That’s right! I read about that shop. But you’re too humble. From what I remember, that flower shop isn’t so little.”
Margot waved her hand, caught off guard that he knew anything about her “normal” life. “You’ll have to come by sometime.”
“Why not just move the shop to Nantucket?” Ralph suggested, bowing his head as he added in a whisper, “We need some good bouquets around here. From what I hear, most of the rich folks who get married on the island bring their own florists from the city. Seems like there’s a market for it.”
This triggered a memory. “I’m actually helping out with a wedding in a couple of weeks,” Margot said. “It’s a spontaneous thing. I think they needed help.”
Ralph’s eyes widened. “You’re here longer than just a visit, then. Who’s getting married?”
“Hilary Coleman,” she said.
Ralph clapped his hands. “Yes! Of course! Hilary’s a dear, isn’t she? This dive bar isn’t her scene, but I see her around from time to time. Her daughter is a real spitfire.”
Margot met Hilary’s daughter Aria two nights ago at the Coleman’s place. Right now, that dinner felt like another lifetime.
Now, she was sitting at a bar with Noah. Now, she was entrenched in a thousand different mini-mysteries—trying to put together the secrets of her mother's life.
Suddenly, Ralph’s smile fell off his face. With a rag he kept behind the counter, he wiped the bar. “I heard about your mother, Margot. It’s just occurred to me that’s why you’re here.”
Margot bowed her head.
“It’s good you’re here. But family’s never easy,” Ralph said. “Lillian’s lucky to have you. I wish she knew that.”
Suddenly, the bartender Ron returned with a clipboard, ready for his chat with Ralph in the back room. To Margot, Ralph tipped an invisible hat and promised he’d come back over to “pester them again” before they left. When he disappeared with Ron, he left Margo and Noah in a comfortable silence. It felt as though the past was thickening around them, like pudding cooked on a stove.
Margot turned her head to look at Noah. Her heart felt crushed with love for him. But was it today’s love—or a love from twenty years ago?
Margot didn’t know where to begin, so she tried, “Why did Avery know about me?”
She expected Noah to stiffen up, but his voice was quiet and warm as he said, “Sam brought you up the other night. I think Avery was overcome with curiosity. She’s never known me to have anyone.”
Margot was taken aback. She’d expected Noah to have fallen in and out of love over the years. She’d mentally prepared herself to hear about a failed marriage and maybe even a child somewhere.
“And you?” Noah asked. “I mean, are you seeing someone?”
Margot shook her head.
“I imagine you’ve seen a lot of people over the years,” Noah said.
Margot tucked a hair behind her ear. The conversation had gotten intense incredibly fast, and she struggled to keep up emotionally. Don’t cry.
“It’s not that I’ve been averse to dating,” Margot said. “But I never fell for anyone.”
“Never?” Noah asked.
Margot shook her head and looked down at her hands, spread out on the bar top. The speakers were playing The Police, and she felt as though she couldn’t breathe.
“That sounds pathetic,” Margot hurried to add, filling the silence between them. “I mean, I should have tried harder. But I was so immersed in my business.”
“It sounds like it’s really special,” Noah said.
Margot softened and raised her eyes again. “It’s my favorite place in the world.”
“You were always brilliant with flowers,” Noah said. “I remember the garden at your parents’ place. It was hard to drag you away from there.”
“It’s all gone now,” Margot said, her shoulders sagging. “Not that I blame my mother for not keeping it up. She was never fond of working outside. And she’s had a lot on her plate over the years.”
Noah sniffed but didn’t say anything.
“What?” Margot pressed him.
“It’s just that you always give her so much credit,” Noah said.
Margot furrowed her brow. “I mean, she’s my mother.”
Meaning I have to love her. I have to give her credit .
A darkness edged between them. Margot suddenly felt as though Noah thought she was stupid or something—stupid for letting Lillian back into her life.
“I know,” Noah said. “But it’s just that…”
Suddenly, Margot’s phone buzzed in her purse. As Noah searched for the right words, Margot got out her phone to find MOM on the screen. Lillian was calling. Speak of the devil.
Margot raised a finger and answered it, getting off the stool so that she didn’t feel the intensity of Noah’s gaze as she spoke. “Mom? Are you all right?”
But someone else had used Lillian’s phone to call her. “Margot? It’s Esme Sutton. I’m down here at the Sutton Book Club, and your mother, well. She’s not doing well.”
Margot’s anxiety spiked. “I’m on my way.”