Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
December 2024
A lthough Tara had wanted to put Josie back in the same bedroom she’d had twenty years ago, as though no time had passed at all, she ended up giving Josie the cozier one downstairs. It was the easiest to access with the wheelchair (if Josie decided she needed it), and it was directly next to her bathroom, bathtub, and kitchen. Naturally, Josie was exhausted after the drive from Manhattan, so Tara hurriedly made up her bed and let her rest. During her nap, Tara read everything she could about “making a cancer patient comfortable” and considered ordering a hospital bed with bars so Josie could get out of it and back into it more easily.
Tara decided to ask Josie about it when she woke up. She didn’t want to rudely put her in a hospital bed if she didn’t want it. She didn’t want to make Josie think she was on the road to death, even if Josie talked about it as easily as talking about the weather.
Tara wanted to guide Josie back into the land of health.
She wanted to make “death” a curse word in this house.
Tara was stumped about Josie’s sudden desire to reach out to their parents. She wasn’t sure about Josie, but she hadn’t spoken to her parents since they’d left, and she hardly thought about them anymore. Doing so always felt like punching herself in the heart. Josie had always been adamant that Tara was the “favorite daughter” and that Josie always played second fiddle. But Tara didn’t think that mattered, not so many years after their girlhood.
Their childhood on Nantucket felt like a distant dream.
Their parents were strangers in that dream.
Josie woke up two hours later and made her way into the living room. Tara was so lost in thought that she didn’t notice her till she was next to the fireplace, and she popped up to make her comfortable.
“Don’t worry about me,” Josie said. There was a look of peace on her face, and her eyes went to the window to look out at the thrashing gray waves. “Goodness, I’d forgotten how beautiful this place was.”
Tara’s heart felt bruised. “We picked it out together, remember?”
“Of course,” Josie said. “We weren’t sure if we could make the mortgage payments.”
“It was difficult at first.”
“And then it wasn’t.” Josie shrugged. “Funny how quickly things change.”
Tara watched Josie as she padded around the living room, looking at photographs of Winnie aged five, eight, and twelve. Her eyes shimmered. At first, Tara thought Josie was going to bring up Winnie and braced herself. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to take it.
Even the Salt Sisters knew not to bring up Winnie.
Mercifully, Josie didn’t say a thing.
“I thought I could cook dinner,” Tara said. “I have salmon.”
Tara had read that salmon was good for healing. She’d resolved to cook anti-cancer foods for Josie until she was well again.
Josie grimaced. “I’m so tired of salmon. I want a burrito or a burger or something greasy and fried.”
Tara felt deflated. But Josie had been through so much, and she needed to gain weight more than anything. “You want to order in?”
“That sounds really nice,” Josie said. “Let’s eat in front of the television and watch bad shows and talk about everything.”
When was the last time Tara and Josie had done that together? Tara thought she was going to burst into tears.
While Josie flicked through the stations, Tara went into the kitchen to order Mexican food—with extra veggies and less cheese than normal, though she didn’t share this decision with Josie. She made them mugs of tea and returned to the sofa to find Josie laughing lightly at an old episode of Friends . Tara’s heart filled. It was almost as though they were in their twenties again. It was almost as though none of the madness of the rest of their lives had happened yet.
But we’re only forty-four and forty-five. Our lives are supposed to be only half over! We should have time to fix everything!
The bell rang a few minutes later.
“Food already?” Josie asked.
“It’s too early for food,” Tara said. “Be right back.”
Tara guessed one of the Salt Sisters was coming by to check on her. She’d told Hilary and Rose about her sister’s cancer, but she hadn’t told them she was back from Manhattan already. Maybe they’d driven by and seen her lights on?
But when she opened the front door, a very tall blond man in a puffy winter coat stood before her.
“Hello?” Tara’s voice wavered. But a kind glow in the man’s eyes told her everything would be okay.
“Tara?” The man’s voice was accented and musical. “I’m sorry for dropping by like this. I saw your light on.” He pressed his pink lips together as a big gust of wind crashed into them. “It’s Johan. I’m sorry, I should have said. We haven’t seen each other in fifteen years at least.”
Tara gasped. It was Johan, the Swedish immigrant! “Come in! Come in!” She felt flustered. “Josie! You’ll never guess who stopped by!”
Johan stomped his boots of snow and came into the foyer. “I was just driving by and saw that Steiner was still painted on the mailbox,” he explained. “You never changed your last name?”
“I did,” Tara explained. “But the house was always in my sister’s and my name. And I changed my name back to Steiner anyway.”
Johan’s face lit up. Looking at it now brought her back to the age of twenty-one, when Johan had been a mysterious yet trustworthy member of the Nantucket society, always there to lend a hand. Tara remembered he’d been the one she’d entrusted with the Fourth of July Festival when she’d gone into labor with Winnie. He hadn’t written down anything she’d told him, which had infuriated her at the time. But he’d managed the Fourth of July Festival without a single incident.
Josie crept in from the living room with a big smile on her face. “Johan!”
If Josie’s sick state surprised Johan, he didn’t let it show. “Josie, my goodness. It’s good to see you.”
“You too,” Josie said. “You know, Tara was about to make us some mulled wine. Weren’t you, Tara?”
Tara raised her eyebrows. She had no plans to do that. She didn’t want Josie to drink any alcohol. But Josie gave her a look that meant offer the man a mulled wine ! So she nodded.
“That sounds wonderful,” Johan said. “But I don’t want to intrude. I guess I already have, though.” He laughed and pulled his backpack off his shoulders. “I have with me a traditional Swedish Christmas dessert. I hope you’ll let me share.”
Josie and Johan sat at the kitchen table while Tara heated some mulled wine and peppered Johan with questions about the past fifteen-plus years of his life. It was mesmerizing to have him back. Even Josie looked brighter with him around. Maybe she was pretending so he wouldn’t worry, but perhaps she was just as thrilled to step into the past as Tara was.
“Now, where on earth have you been all these years, Johan?” Tara asked.
Johan laughed. “That’s a great question. It’s hard to believe it’s been that long. But it must have been sixteen or so years ago when I met Hannah, and we moved out to California.”
“California!” Josie cried.
“San Jose,” he said.
“I’ve heard it’s beautiful out there,” Tara said.
“It is. But it’s a different way of life. Hannah and I both worked really hard to afford our home, and even then, it was a struggle.”
“Are you just back for a visit?” Tara asked.
Johan shook his head. “Hannah and I got divorced about eight months ago. I was still living in San Jose, but I realized I’d never fallen in love with it like I did with Nantucket. I canceled my lease and came back out here just last week.”
“Just in time for winter? You’re crazy!” Tara said.
Josie chuckled. “But you’re just in time for the Christmas Festival.”
Johan snapped his fingers. “I was thinking about that festival and all the snow and how the ocean looks when the storm clouds come through. It made me so homesick. It’s strange, you know, because I was raised in Sweden and didn’t move to the US till I was nineteen. But something about Nantucket feels oddly Swedish to me.”
“Why didn’t you want to go back to Sweden?” Josie asked.
Johan thought for a moment. It gave Tara time to put a mug of mulled wine in front of him and study his sturdy and handsome jawline and the bright blue glint of his eyes. Had she ever noticed how handsome he was?
“I’m forty-nine years old,” Johan said finally. “Which means I’ve lived in the US for thirty years. Going back to Sweden would probably make me feel like an immigrant all over again. Maybe I don’t fully fit here, but I wouldn’t fit there, either.”
“You’re displaced,” Josie said quietly.
Johan raised his mug of mulled wine. “Maybe. But I don’t feel displaced right now.”
So as not to raise suspicion about Josie’s condition, Tara had made a mug of mulled wine for her sister, too. Josie even picked it up a few times and blew the steam from the top. But Johan either didn’t notice or decided not to ask why she wasn’t drinking it. Little red dots at the top of his cheeks made him look extra jolly.
“I’m sorry about your divorce,” Tara said after a pause. “That’s tough.”
“Mine was easier than most, I think,” Johan said. “We realized we weren’t in love anymore, and that was that. But we’d put ourselves through a lot. We tried to have a baby for many years. We did every treatment. IVF, you name it. We even talked about adoption.”
“That’s a lot of pressure on a couple,” Josie said.
Johan nodded gravely. “Last I heard, Hannah was going to try to open a foster home. She has a big heart and a lot of love to give. I really respect her and her mission.”
Tara’s heart swelled. It was rare to meet a man who still honored and loved his ex-wife. But the past was always the past. You couldn’t change it. You couldn’t rewrite it. Yet Johan seemed to understand how to hold the past in his arms and let its warmth flow through him.
“Wow. I don’t think I’ve spoken that much in a long while.” Johan laughed. “I hope you aren’t bored by me.”
“You said like eight sentences,” Josie said, waving her hand.
“Don’t worry about it for a second!” Tara said.
“But what about you two?” Johan asked. “What’s been going on the past decade and a half?”
“To be honest with you, Johan, you and I are on a similar timeline,” Josie said. “I just got back to Nantucket today!”
“You’re kidding me!” Johan cried.
“That’s right. I’ve been in Manhattan.”
“And you’re staying?” Johan asked.
“Tara invited me to stay for a little while,” Josie said. “I’m going to try Nantucket on for size again. But who knows how long it will stick?”
“Maybe we can help each other figure out this new phase,” Johan said.
Tara felt her heart shift in her chest. Was she jealous of Johan giving Josie an extra dose of attention? She filled her mouth with hot wine and closed her eyes at the flavors of cardamom and cinnamon. When they were girls, Cindy made alcohol-free mulled wine with these same flavors for them.
Johan snapped his fingers and pulled out a Swedish Christmas dessert from his backpack. “I nearly forgot!” It was circular and colored in cream and called something neither Tara nor Josie could pronounce. Apparently, Johan had made it himself.
As they ate, they talked about how much things had changed since 2001. It was hard to believe that it was the year of September 11th, that history had shifted so incredibly when they were so young. But they didn’t linger on sorrows and hardships for long. Johan told them plenty of funny stories about his time in California, including an era when he worked as a sailing instructor for wealthy children who liked to boss him around.
When they quieted again, Tara admitted she couldn’t get enough of the dessert. “It’s divine.”
“Did you do all the cooking in your marriage?” Josie asked.
“We split all the household tasks, I think,” Johan said. “But she was certainly better at many things than me.”
“Like what?” Josie giggled.
“She was better at laundry,” he admitted. “She could get out any stain.”
“That’s a true talent,” Josie said. “She should teach a class.”
Johan chuckled, and his shoulders shook. Tara set down her spoon and tried not to look at him too much or too long. But something about his face was so open and sunny and warm. She fought a strange instinct not to fold her arms around him and weep on his chest.
She wanted to tell him why Josie was really there. She wanted to ask him to knock some sense into Josie, to remind her there was so much to live for, to tell her they could build a better reality together if only she decided to fight.
But suddenly, the doorbell rang again. Tara was on her feet and stricken. She wasn’t sure she could take much more in the way of surprises.
“It’s the takeout!” Josie reminded her.
Johan raised his eyebrows. “You girls ate dessert before dinner? You’re my kind of people.”
Josie and Tara laughed. Tara hurried into the foyer to pay the delivery driver and tip him far more than she would have normally, if only because she was in a good mood. When she returned to the kitchen, Johan was sliding his coat back on after finishing the last of his mulled wine. She felt a little deflated. But Johan promised he’d come by soon.
“Old friends are my favorite kind of friends,” he said. “It’s so nice to be back on this cold, dark island.”
Josie chuckled and reached out for his hand. It was clear to Tara that she was too exhausted to hug him goodbye. But again, Johan didn’t mention a thing. “It’s wonderful to see you again.”
“Welcome back to Nantucket yourself,” Johan said.
Tara walked Johan to the door and gave him an awkward side hug, making her heart explode.
“I hope you’ll let me know if you need anything,” Johan said, giving her a look that could have meant anything. Maybe he could sense how sick Josie was.
“You too,” Tara said. “Thanks for coming by. It made our night.”
Tara waited in the foyer and watched the lights of his truck beam across the rolling hills and disappear in the darkness.
“Tara? Did you run away with Johan?” Josie called.
Tara cackled and hurried back to the kitchen. Josie was giving her a mischievous smile.
“What?” Tara demanded. She gathered the takeout and offered her arm to Josie. Josie accepted it, and they walked into the living room for their feast.
“You know what?” Josie said.
“I really don’t.”
“Johan always had a crush on you,” Josie said. Slowly, she shifted onto the couch and gathered a blanket over her legs. It looked painful for her.
“He did not.” Tara’s cheeks were hot.
“Don’t you see the way he looks at you? And come on. You haven’t seen him in years, and he just stops by like that? He’s held a candle for you all this time.”
“He was happily married,” Tara pointed out.
“We’ve both been married. We know how complicated it is.”
For a minute, they squabbled about what to put on the television but decided on another episode of Friends .
“I just hope you won’t deny yourself happiness,” Josie said quietly as she scraped her fork over some melted cheese. “There’s still so much to live for.”
Tara gave Josie a pointed look. “That’s what I’m trying to convince you of. Not the other way around.”
Josie raised her shoulders. “When you’ve been through what I have—”
Tara set down her fork. “I want to help you. I want to be there for you. I want to carry this.”
Josie wouldn’t make eye contact with Tara. Phoebe sat on the big TV screen in the coffee shop, telling a story so silly and fantastical that it didn’t seem to belong to a world as somber as the one Tara had always known.
“Eat up,” Josie ordered.
“I should say the same to you,” Tara shot back.
They were two squabbling sisters, back together again. Nothing had really changed, except that everything had.