Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
P erhaps it shouldn’t have surprised Noah that Lillian Earnheart had found yet another way to ruin his date with Margot. But as Margot scrambled to pay Ralph, abandoning her white wine and pulling on her coat, Noah’s heart thudded with disbelief. More than that, he was ashamed of himself for pointing out that Margot gave Lillian too much credit. It wasn’t his place to have opinions on Margot’s life—not anymore, and maybe not ever.
“Let me come with you,” Noah said, throwing cash on the counter and pressing Lillian’s bills back into her hand.
Margot’s cheeks were slack. Clearly, she wasn’t accustomed to having people rely on her like this. She also wasn’t accustomed to people wanting to take care of her.
She’d been an island of flowers.
“I can handle it,” Margot said.
“I know that,” Noah offered. “You’ve always been able to handle yourself. I just want to help.”
Let me help you! he wanted to scream.
They ran out the door and down three blocks to the gorgeous colonial that housed the Sutton Book Club. Margot rushed up the front steps and through the front door. Noah was hot on her heels, his pulse rocketing. Inside, they found the card-playing club. Lillian was seated off to the side, sobbing and pointing at a fifty-something female stranger Noah didn’t recognize. Behind Lillian was a handsome man of about forty or forty-five, his hand on her shoulder as he whispered into her ear. On her other side was Esme Sutton, trying to put a glass of water in her hand.
“She cheated!” Lillian cried at the woman she was pointing at. “You saw her, Vic. Didn’t you see her?”
“Darling, we’ve hardly begun,” Vic said, trying to make a joke of it. “I know you’re quite competitive, but we have to dig ourselves in and get comfortable before we make wild accusations. Hmm?”
Lillian hurried to her mother’s side. The man called Vic raised both hands and stepped away as though to say, She’s all yours . Was it Noah’s imagination, or did Vic seem annoyed that Margot had arrived to “save the day”? What was this well-dressed and dapper-seeming man doing at a card-playing event at the Sutton Book Club? This kind of thing was usually reserved for retirees or empty nesters. Vic seemed more like a man who would prefer an all-day golf outing in Florida. He seemed like he could afford it, too.
It didn’t add up.
“Mom? Are you all right?” Margot breathed gently.
Everyone else in the card club pretended to give them privacy, reshuffling the cards and restructuring their teams. It was clear that Lillian was out for the night.
“I told you, Melissa,” Lillian said, using Margot’s sister’s name, “that woman is cheating. She’s making a mockery of me and the whole team.”
“Mom, I don’t think she was cheating,” Margot said.
Lillian’s eyes widened. “You don’t believe me?”
“I just don’t think it’s, um.” Margot raised her chin and searched the room for help. Esme was back with the other card players, and Vic glowered in the corner, his arms crossed. Only Noah remained at her side, trying to make his face open and warm.
But suddenly, Lillian’s face tightened into a bright red ball of rage. She reached out and grabbed Margot’s hand, squeezing so hard that Margot shrieked.
“It was you!” Lillian cried.
Noah’s stomach tightened with fear.
“It was your fault!” Lillian continued.
The other card players turned to look at Lillian and Margot: the spectacle.
“You know what you did, Margot!” Lillian continued, looking manic.
Margot’s face was pale with shock. “Mom, why don’t we go outside? I can take you home. We can watch television. We can calm down.”
“I won’t go anywhere with you!” Lillian cried. “Why would I? You’re a murderer! You killed him! You killed your father!”
Margot looked as though she’d been smacked. Noah was dizzy. Every person in the card-playing club could do nothing but stare. Vic, that terrible, wealthy man, seemed on the verge of an evil smile.
“Get away from me! Murderer!” Lillian began to sob and scream.
Margot backed away from Lillian with her hands raised. Tears raced down her cheeks. “Mom, let’s go,” she continued to say, a constant refrain. “Please, Mom. Let’s leave.”
But Noah did something about this. Filled with rage and memories, he whisked forward, took Lillian in his arms, and carried her out of the Sutton Book Club. To his surprise, Lillian was as light as a pillow. She let him carry her without fidgeting as though the shock made her freeze up. When they got outside, Noah continued toward his truck, feeling resolute.
“You can’t speak to her like that,” he muttered to Lillian.
Behind him, Margot streamed out of the Sutton Book Club, carrying her mother’s things. Vic was hot on her heels, calling, “Lillian! I’ll meet you at your place. We can talk about this.”
Noah buckled Lillian into the front seat of his truck. There, she looked tiny, like a porcelain doll. She crossed her hands over her thighs and took a breath. Margot hadn’t yet reached the truck, which gave Noah time to ask, “Are you feeling better, Lillian?”
Lillian sniffed and looked at him as though she wasn’t initially sure who he was. “My daughter killed my husband,” she said. “I never should have had her. I didn’t want to have her. My husband begged me for a fourth child. Who in their right mind has four children? It’s insanity.”
Noah wasn’t sure what to say. He fizzed with anger. Now that Margot approached, he wanted Lillian to shut up. He knew Alzheimer’s was partially to blame. But he also knew that Lillian Earnheart would always be Lillian Earnheart: the cruelest woman he’d ever met.
Because he didn’t know what else to do, he closed the door on her so that she sat alone in the truck, poring over her regrets.
He turned to find Margot weeping quietly. Another snowfall swirled overhead.
Noah couldn’t stop himself. He stepped forward and wrapped Margot in a big bear hug. She shook like a bird with a broken wing.
He kissed her hair and whispered, “Don’t listen to her.”
Margot sobbed into Noah’s coat. “But she’s right. I did kill him. I did kill him.”
Noah shook his head and hugged her harder. His heart was in a thousand pieces.
“You know I did, Noah,” Lillian wailed, her hand in a fist on his shoulder. “You remember. And you know that nobody can love me after that. You know that even you can’t love me after that.”
Noah felt suddenly electric with anger. With his hands on her shoulders, he pushed her away from him, still holding her tightly, and glared down at her beautiful face. His heart throbbed with love and pain. “What did you just say to me?”
Margot closed her eyes tightly. “Nobody could love me after what I did. Nobody.”
“That’s insane, Margot,” Noah snapped. “You know it, and I know it.”
But Margot was inconsolable. She couldn’t stop sobbing.
Noah knew there was no reasoning with her right then. He needed to get her home. But he also didn’t want to put her in the truck with her mother. Who knows what else her mother would say?
Suddenly, Vic appeared next to the truck. He wore an expensive-looking button-down peacoat, and his dark hair was glossy in the February light. To Noah, he looked like a movie star.
“Excuse me. My name is Vic Rondell. I’m a friend of Lillian’s. Can I be of help?”
Noah sniffed at him. What did this man want with Lillian? It didn’t add up. But he couldn’t put all the pieces of the puzzle together right then. So he grabbed his truck keys and moved to drop them into Vic Rondell’s hand. “Drive her back home and sit with her till we get back?”
Vic raised his eyebrows and gestured toward a fancy-looking sports car across the street—clearly his. “I always ride in style.” Noah’s truck wasn’t good enough for him.
Noah pocketed his own keys. “Get her back however you want.”
Noah was already leading Margot back to her car, eager to get her someplace warm, make her a mug of tea, and hug her close. When he glanced back, he saw Vic coaxing Lillian over to his sports car. Lillian walked delicately, like a spider that had lost a leg.
Margot sobbed all the way back to Noah’s place. Noah was out of his mind with worry and shock.
Occasionally, Margot said something like, “I never should have come back here,” or, “I can’t believe it; I can’t believe it.” But mostly, she cried. Noah fiddled with the radio station, hoping to find a song to brighten her spirits and drag her back from the darkness of her memories.
When they pulled into the driveway, Noah was surprised to find Avery watching them from the front window. Immediately after her school had gotten out for the day, he’d called her and explained he had plans for the evening, and she’d said, “Good, I’m worried about your lack of social life.”
Somehow, he’d let himself forget that Avery would be here. It was too late to do anything about it now.
When Noah opened the passenger door and helped Margot out, she held his hand tightly as though she were a child lost in the woods. Her eyes were rimmed with red. When they entered the house, the kettle was already on the stovetop. Avery bustled around, trying to put together a snack plate. Her eyes were focused and frightened. She’d seen Margot crying through the front window of the truck.
Margot sat dully at the kitchen table and stared down at a steaming mug of tea.
Noah tried to read her mind. He imagined her thinking I knew coming back would be hard, but this is so much worse.
Avery fluttered above her, asking if she needed anything else. Noah had never seen Avery taking care of someone before. It touched something inside him; it reminded him that Avery had a great deal of love to give. It made him think that despite everything, she would be all right someday. She would find happiness because she would know how to build it for herself and those around her.
“Thank you, Avery,” Margot managed finally. “I’m sorry you have to see me like this.”
Avery sat across from her and folded her hands. Noah poured more tea and considered the snack tray Avery had made: crackers, chips, pieces of cheese, radishes, and blueberries. It felt random and strange and utterly perfect.
There was no way Margot was going to touch it. Not yet, anyway.
“And I’m sorry I broke into your house,” Avery said. “I won’t do it again. I was going through a weird time. I mean, I am going through a weird time. That won’t be over any time soon.”
Margot’s lips curved into the slightest of smiles. “Don’t worry about it. I’m going through a weird time, too.”
“I get that. I was curious about you,” Avery said.
Margot reached for a tissue from the box on the table and mopped up her face. Her eyes were illuminated. Noah was glad she’d stopped sobbing, but he hoped Avery wasn’t bothering her.
“I guess you know that I loved your uncle very much when I was your age,” Margot said.
Noah rubbed his chest. He didn’t want to cry but felt it coming like a storm.
“What was that like?” Avery asked.
“It was like magic,” Margot said. “He was my best friend and confidant. We told each other everything. We thought we had a future together.” Margot’s eyes flickered over to Noah, where he stood like a nervous statue at the counter, unsure of what to say or do.
Why was she being so open with Avery?
“But you left Nantucket,” Avery said. “Because you didn’t like it here?”
“Nothing like that,” Margot said. “I loved it here. It was my home, but I felt like I had to leave.”
Avery grimaced. “I get that. That’s what happened to me a couple of weeks ago. I was at my mom’s wake, and I felt like I was going insane. All these people were standing around, talking about my future, and I realized I didn’t want to put my trust in any of them. My mom was dead! Nothing made sense anymore! Maybe nothing will ever make sense again!”
Margot’s face echoed empathy. Noah couldn’t believe Avery was so open with her—telling her things he’d been dying to know.
Was he that bad at parenting already?
“I can understand that. Where did you go?” Margot asked.
Avery raised her shoulders. “I crashed on a few couches. I felt like I was starving. Like I could not get enough food, no matter what. I think it was the grief. I never wanted to go back to school, but it was clear at every job I applied for that I was too young to work all day, and there was no way I’d have enough for an apartment any time soon. I’d left almost everything I owned back at my house, and I felt raggedy and weird. Eventually, I went back to the place I’d run away from—the place where I’d lived with my mom—and I cried and cried. All the food was rotten in the fridge. The house felt all wrong without her.”
Avery swallowed. Tears spilled down her cheeks.
“That’s when I got the idea to come to Nantucket. But when I arrived, I got really scared. Like, I thought, what if Uncle Noah doesn’t want me? Like what if I’m a burden on his life? So I wandered around the island and was eventually ‘arrested,’ or whatever, in that swanky boathouse in Siasconset. When I got to the juvenile detention center, they fed me the worst food I’ve ever eaten, and I ate it all in like four minutes.”
Margot chuckled, sensing correctly that Avery was telling a joke. Avery smiled sadly.
Noah suddenly understood Avery and Margot needed each other. They’d gone through similar hardships. They could understand each other—and maybe nobody else could.
Not even Noah, who loved them both to his core.
Noah urged himself to leave the room and let them talk. But it suddenly occurred to him that perhaps he was there for a reason. In a sense, Avery was only able to tell him this through Margot. Maybe Margot could only tell him everything through Avery.
“I think Noah really, really wants you here,” Margot offered. “For what it’s worth.”
Avery waved her hand as though she wanted to dismiss it. “Why did you run away?”
It was Margot’s turn to speak. She took a big sip of tea and said, “My dad died.”
Avery nodded in understanding. “How did it happen?”
“There was an accident,” Margot said. “I was there, and it was, um. It was…” She put her hand over her mouth and closed her eyes.
Noah took a hesitant step forward and interrupted, “It wasn’t your fault.”
Margot cast him a look that meant you don’t get to say that .
“I was there, too,” Noah reminded her.
Avery gave Noah a steely look that meant can’t you see? It isn’t your time to talk.
Noah stepped back and crossed his arms. His heart was pounding.
“It was April,” Margot began, “and I wanted to start my garden for the year. My garden was my pride and joy—something I really lived for. I spent hours and hours tilling, weeding, and fertilizing. I dreamed about the bulbs, praying they’d bloom into gorgeous flowers later. During the summer, I did everything on a blanket beside my garden, eager to watch them grow. It was almost impossible, but sometimes I lied to myself, imagining that I could see them growing before my eyes.
“That April, my car had broken down,” Margot said, “and my father offered to take me to the garden center to pick up everything I needed for the garden. I’d saved up some money at a summer job the year before and planned to spend almost all of it. My dad helped me, throwing fertilizer and bulbs and sproutings and equipment into the cart. We transferred it all to his trunk and the back seat of his car. There was so much of it that we had to put tons of it in the passenger seat, too. There was hardly space for me to sit. I wasn’t buckled; I didn’t even think about it. Right before we wanted to leave the parking lot, my father got out of the car. I couldn’t see what he was doing. Maybe he’d seen someone he knew. When he came back, he was out of breath and a little frantic. I couldn’t understand what was wrong, but I didn’t want to bother him with it. He was already doing me a big favor.
“On the way home, all the stuff in the back seat blocked the rearview mirror. He seemed a little distracted. But because of the stuff, he didn’t see the massive truck coming up from behind. Apparently, the truck couldn’t stop. Maybe if he’d been able to see, he would have gotten out of the way. The truck slammed into us from behind and threw my father and me out of our seats. I guess he wasn’t buckled in, either. Flowers and soil and bulbs were everywhere. My father was rushed to the hospital, but he died that night. Somehow, I had a broken arm and nothing else. It didn’t seem right.”
Avery’s eyes swam with tears. Noah couldn’t breathe.
He remembered the accident as clear as day. He’d been there—a block away, parked in his car, ready to wave at Margot and Frank as they passed. It had been a coincidence that he’d seen them out and about like this, but not a strange one. In Nantucket, you always ran into folks you knew. Right before the truck had rammed into them, he’d been thinking, There’s my beautiful girlfriend and future wife. It’s so nice to live in a small town like this. I don’t know why anyone lives anywhere else.
Margot was crying again. Noah couldn’t imagine that she’d told that story very often. Obviously, though, the story lived in her mind all the time, maybe on a constant loop.
From the counter, Noah muttered, “It wasn’t your fault.”
But Noah knew what he said didn’t matter. From the night Frank died and onward, Lillian Earnheart had maintained a constant refrain, “It’s your fault, Margot. You’re the reason my love is dead. You’re the reason my life has no purpose. We didn’t even want another child. God, please, take this creature away and bring me back my husband!”
What Noah had heard Lillian say to Margot back then had chilled him to the bone. Once, he’d told Lillian, “You can’t talk to her like that!”
But Lillian had sobbed and gone upstairs. There had been no reasoning with her.
Margot had been inconsolable. She’d taken on her mother’s belief systems. She’d assured herself—and Noah—that if she hadn’t wanted to buy so much stuff and hadn’t been so greedy, her father would have seen the truck and managed to move out of the way.
“He died because of me,” Margot had said over and over, sobbing, her body shaking violently.
She’d had to leave the island. Noah had said he wanted to come, too. But she’d insisted he couldn’t.
She’d insisted she couldn’t see another person from Nantucket for as long as she lived.
“I can’t take it,” she’d said. “It’s all too painful. I need to start over.”
But was it ever possible to start over? He wasn’t sure.
Avery bowed her head. “I’m so sorry, Margot.”
Margot was quiet. Outside, snow billowed past the window, and Noah felt they would be buried inside for the rest of winter.
“It sounds like your dad was really distracted,” Avery offered. “Who was he talking to in the parking lot?”
Margot reached for another tissue. It was clear she didn’t want to engage with that question.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “What matters is, I’m the only Earnheart willing and able to take care of Lillian Earnheart. And in every last recess of her Alzheimer’s-riddled mind, she’s sure that I’m responsible for her husband’s death.”
Avery shook her head and pressed her hands against her forehead. It was too much for a teenager to take on.
A full minute passed. Noah racked his brain for answers.
When Avery finished her tea and what looked to be way more than half of the cheese on the snack plate, she stood, cleaned her mug, and said, “I’m going to my room for a little while.”
She seemed to understand that Noah and Margot needed to talk.
“You let me know if you need anything?” she asked Margot as though she were the adult and Margot the child.
“Of course. You’ve already been so kind,” Margot said.
“You deserve every kindness,” Avery said before disappearing down the hall and into the guest bedroom.
Margot kept her head down. The light was off in the kitchen, and with the sun dunking into the ocean, they were cast in indigo and shadows. Noah hunted through the cabinets until he found a bottle of wine. When Margot spotted it, she said, “Oh, gosh. Yes.” She sounded relieved.
Noah poured two glasses and suggested they sit on the sofa. Something was too abrasive about the kitchen chairs and table. Margot followed him into the living room and put her glass of wine on the coffee table. Together, they sat, watching the snow whirr past the window.
Noah wanted to ask Margot why she’d never gone to a therapist. He wanted to ask her why she’d never fallen in love with anyone. He wanted to ask her if she’d made herself feel guilty for her father’s death every single day of her life since the accident. But he guessed he already knew the answers.
Finally, Margot whispered, “She’s a sweet girl.”
Noah nodded. “I keep having to remind myself that she’s in the middle of the worst time of her life.”
Then again, so was Noah.
“She’s handling it so much better than I did when Dad died,” Margot said. “She’s self-aware in ways I never was.”
Noah took Margot’s hand in his and swept his thumb over her knuckles. He noticed that they were scarred.
“Roses,” Margot explained softly. “Thousands and thousands of thorns.”
Noah’s heart thumped. Her lips were only a few inches away, and he could smell her roses and jasmine and even the mint of her toothpaste. But he was too frightened to kiss her. He didn’t want to chase her away again.
“I always loved Mona,” Margot breathed. “She was like a sister to me. She was so much more stylish and cool than I ever was. Sometimes I tried to imitate her, you know? I looked up what she was listening to. I tried to figure out her formula.” Margot laughed at herself.
Noah sipped his wine, remembering Mona in all her high school glory. The glory had faded. She’d become someone he couldn’t recognize.
He hadn’t known about the drugs.
“How did Mona die?” Margot asked softly, her voice wavering.
Noah’s chest tightened. It was a question nobody had asked him head-on yet. It was a question he struggled to answer himself.
“I hate myself for this,” Noah whispered, his voice wavering.
Margot squeezed his hand. Her eyes echoed her love and understanding.
“Mona and I weren’t in contact much over the past few years,” he said. “I was miffed that she’d left Nantucket with that awful guy, and she was annoyed with me because I wasn’t supporting her and her decisions. We said a few choice words to each other. I don’t want to repeat them. I don’t even like thinking about them! But I was busy here, and she was busy there, and I figured we’d find a way back to each other eventually.”
Noah began to cry after that. It felt as though someone had reached into his chest to squeeze every part of him. Margot wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly, waiting. He still hadn’t answered her question.
“She was into some bad stuff,” he explained. “She’d dabbled in drugs here and there when we were in our twenties, but I guess she found her way back to them. She was so alone, I think. Her drug friends were all she had.”
She should have had me. I should have been in Boston every weekend. I should have reminded her of all the love still waiting for her here.
“It was an accident. I know that for sure because she loved Avery to death,” Noah said.
“Does Avery know about the drugs?”
Noah nodded. “She’s the one who found her.”
Margot slapped both hands over her mouth and gaped at him.
There it was, the final piece of the puzzle.
Margot, Noah, and Avery were broken souls struggling through time. But against all odds, they’d found their way back to one another. Noah had to be grateful for that.
Noah and Margot sat on the sofa for nearly an hour, drinking wine and watching the snow. But when an inky-black night descended upon them, Margot admitted she had to head home. Noah knocked on Avery’s door, and Avery agreed to come downtown with them to pick up his truck. When they reached it, Avery and Noah stood on the sidewalk in the snow, waving as Margot disappeared around the corner.
They were quiet, and their breath was foggy in the chill. Noah felt as though he’d just run ten miles.
“Are you hungry?” Avery asked. Her voice was startlingly clear.
“Let’s get something to eat,” Noah agreed. He suddenly realized he was famished.
They walked around the corner to the burger place, where Avery made sure to order fries and onion rings. On the jukebox, she played Queen’s “Play the Game,” and as she sang, all Noah could see on her face were Mona’s expressions, Mona’s joy.
We’ll miss you forever, Sis , he thought, swallowing back his tears. We’ll do our best to carry on without you.