Chapter 18
Ike
Do not skip. Don’t whistle. Don’t do anything to give yourself away, you giant, googly-eyed moron.
The internal reminders are accomplishing jack squat as I escort Diana to my truck. The dumb smile I’ve been fighting since I walked in on Diana and Marlow’s pre-date disaster is giveaway enough.
But Diana can’t know how much I’m looking forward to this.
The subatomic scrap of trust I’ve earned from her is fragile.
She’s not even on the fence about this marriage.
She’s on the other side of the fence, barely peeking over the top.
I don’t want to scare her off. The thinking, planning, shopping, weather-checking, and pit-digging I’ve done is between me and August, who is the only other person who knows what I’m up to tonight.
Opening Diana’s door, I guide her into the passenger seat and help her find the buckle.
I move quickly around the truck, without skipping or whistling.
I am suave, charming, cool… and grinning again.
Shoot. I school my expression into something that won’t make Diana dive out of my truck and barrel roll down an embankment.
Then I climb behind the wheel and—peaches.
The cab of my truck smells like her.
I am a dead man.
I crank the engine, propping my hand behind Diana’s headrest as I reverse out of the driveway.
We need to get where we're going because I need fresh air before I do something stupid.
Diana York is sitting in my truck. After years of watching her from afar, the enigma herself is sitting in my old truck, running her hands over her knees.
My mental checklist swirls in my head. The cooler is wedged behind my seat, safe in the air conditioning. I have a big blanket. We just need to get to the beach.
Why did I plan a lobster bake? Diana was raised on the New England coast like I was.
I should’ve planned something less cliché.
Something nicer. Something she hasn’t done before, because I love the way Diana lights up when she tries something new.
I figured my wife—the air quotes are alive and well, I guess—would want to keep this night private, since I know how she feels about Cape Georgeana.
What’s more private than a lobster bake on a secluded beach?
But now I’m second-guessing everything. I should’ve made reservations somewhere. I should’ve worn a tie. Did I put enough effort into this? Are those storm clouds popping up behind the trees?
I can’t get this wrong.
Diana’s honey voice breaks into my spiraling thoughts. “Be honest.” Her red lips curl. “Are you about to murder me?”
I choke on nothing. “What?”
“There’s a shovel in your truck bed. Blankets on the seat.” She’s teasing, but her voice shakes just enough to let me know that she’s nervous—hopefully not about being offed on our date. “Am I about to end up as the subject of a true crime podcast?”
Ice? Officially broken. I chuckle. “Diana, the only way you’ll end up on one of those things is if I go missing. You know you’ll be suspect number one.”
“Pfft.” She swats my knee lazily, and I freeze.
She goes on like she has no idea what she just did to me: “Yeah. If you go missing, your fan club will track me down and toss me into a volcano. They’ll avenge you and finally rid themselves of the town witch.
Two birds, one stone.” She stares out the window with a snicker as I make a left turn onto the road that leads to our beach.
Diana makes a lot of jokes about how disliked she is by the entirety of Cape Georgeana.
At first I didn’t think much of it. After weeks under the same roof, I’m seeing a pattern to the remarks, and I know her well enough to sense the injury beneath the flippant words.
I don’t like it. And I hate that I’ve been a part of it. This ends now.
“Diana.” I haven’t figured out how to say this.
“Y-yeah?” I feel her eyes on me while I drive.
I can’t stand the nervousness in her voice. I hate that she’s ever felt anything but safe with me, and I can’t believe the things I used to assume about her. I swallow. “I owe you an apology.” I clear my throat. “A few hundred apologies, probably.”
She puffs out a laugh. “We’re fine, Ike. No need to apologize.”
I refuse to let her blow this off. “Yes, there is. I was so wrong about you. Everyone is wrong about you. I thought I knew you, I just—” I didn’t know her at all. “I’m going to fix this.”
“You don’t have to fix everything, Ike.” She’s running her hands down her jeans again. “Some things aren’t fixable.”
I hope that no one ever clues her in to the nervous habit that is her biggest tell.
The barely-detectable defeat in her tone makes my gut ache.
I pull off the main road onto a bumpy dirt road that leads to my favorite secret beach.
“That’s not true. I’m going to fix this, Di.
And I’m sorry. You deserve more than the words, though.
I promise I’m going to make this right. Will you let me make this right? ”
While I’m shamelessly begging for forgiveness, a call lights up the screen on the dash. It’s Boone’s mom, Louise. I’m sure she’s calling to confirm that tomorrow night is sandwich night, for the seventy-fourth weekend in a row.
Louise is the Chief Executive Officer of keeping Boone’s life together. She’s like the Jeff Bezos of raising a kid on the spectrum. But I let it ring while I grovel at my wife’s feet. This is important.
“Do you need to get that?” Diana asks, arching an eyebrow at the “Louise” on the screen and obviously eager to change the subject. I don’t think she likes being groveled to—more proof that I’ve been wrong about her.
The call goes to voicemail while she asks, but a second later the screen lights up with another call from Louise.
“I think Louise needs you.” She folds her arms across her chest. “You should get that.”
She is closing off. I can feel it. I push the button to take the call, purely to set Diana’s mind at ease.
“Louise?” I answer as I park on the shoulder. A wooded path a dozen feet away leads to the rocky beach and our perfectly-planned date.
“Hey, Ike. Are you here somewhere? I told Boone you’d be sitting by us. He’s looking for you.”
“Oh, crap.” I run a hand down my face, muttering under my breath, “How did I forget about Boone’s play?”
“You forgot?”
“I’m sorry, Louise.” I check my watch. It hasn’t started yet.
“That’s okay. You can still make it. It doesn’t start for ten minutes.” CEO Louise isn’t letting me off the hook, and she shouldn’t.
Boone needs my face in the audience. I promised him I’d be there to watch him play the lamppost in Cape Georgeana Community Youth Theater’s production of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.
I encouraged Louise to let him be part of the play even though she had reservations.
I talked the director into inventing a safe role for Boone.
I drove him to a few summer rehearsals when Louise couldn’t.
But then I got preoccupied—as in, I got married and moved onto a tidal island. Things have been busy.
But I can’t miss this play. I also can’t mess up this date.
“Louise, actually I have—”
“We’re saving a seat for you, okay? See you in a few.” The line goes dead.
I curse under my breath.
“Boone is the kid you take out for sandwiches?” Diana asks quietly.
“Yeah. But he’ll be fine.” That’s a lie. The kid needs predictability, and he’s expecting me to be there. He might be fine if I no-show. Or, from what Louise and I have seen, he might shut down, walk off the stage, or slap someone.
“We should go.” Diana nods, her crystal blue eyes sincere. “It’s a play? I’d love that. I’m a New Yorker, remember?” She’s going way too easy on me.
I shake my head. “Boone will be okay. And this isn’t Broadway.
It's a community kids’ theater in the high school auditorium.
Tonight was supposed to be just us. I wanted this to be—” I cut off when she pulls my hand away from the knot I’m kneading on my shoulder.
I hold my breath as her delicate fingers work at the tense spot.
I bet she’s watched me work at this muscle every day that we’ve been married.
Her voice is quiet. “You can’t be everything for everyone at all times, Ike.
You don’t need to make everything perfect, and I don’t want it to be, okay?
” She squeezes my shoulder again. She has no idea how dangerous that little move is.
Then she turns to teasing. “Who knows what you had planned, anyway? The play will probably be better. Let’s go. ”
I search her eyes, looking for any sign of hesitation or regret. There’s nothing there but sincerity and that same bright blue that makes my pulse jump. Every. Dang. Time.
The tension in my permanently tight shoulder starts to loosen.
I can’t believe she’s being so easygoing about this.
No one in a fifty mile radius would’ve let me off the hook so quickly.
In fact, Muffie Horowitz is waiting for me to chase the seagulls off her property as we speak.
And it only makes me want to give Diana more—to do more for her.
I put my hand over hers, holding it against my shoulder. “Thank you.” I have plenty more to say, but I don’t want to say too much. “Are you ready for this?”
She only nods, her dark eyelashes brushing her cheeks.
“That’s good, because we’re about to hard launch this marriage in front of the whole town.”