Chapter 13
During the days after Arietta’s dinner with the Salt Sisters, she stewed in such shame that she couldn’t leave the house.
She couldn’t believe that she’d let those strangers know about the blackmail.
She couldn’t believe she’d told them that she’d sent the money!
Now that she’d told them, she couldn’t pretend it hadn’t happened.
Probably, all of the Salt Sisters were sitting in their private, beautiful mansions (not unlike her own) and calling one another to gossip about how stupid Arietta was. They were probably saying, “We would never be that dumb. Can you imagine being that dumb?”
But did Arietta herself think she was stupid? She didn’t know.
To celebrate the beginning of June, Arietta wheeled Fred out onto the veranda.
It was a gorgeous day, seventy-eight degrees with a light and salty breeze, and she poured herself a glass of freshly squeezed lemonade and tried to focus on a book she’d always wanted to read, The Master and the Margarita.
But she hadn’t written a single word since she’d been in Greece—minus to-do lists, of course—and she found it difficult to concentrate.
She wondered whether her mental agility would ever return.
“Maybe I’ll finally stop all that journalism stuff,” Arietta said to Fred now, closing her book on her lap. “Your mother would be pleased! Too bad she’s not around to see my retirement.”
Arietta wondered what Fred’s mother would make of her favorite son, unable to speak or walk at the age of fifty-six. It broke Arietta’s heart to think of Shannon or Felicity or Isabelle undergoing such horrors.
Suddenly, as though to save her from her racing mind, her phone rang. It was Jasper, her old journalist friend, whom she and Fred had seen back in Greece. Arietta answered, telling herself to act normally. But her voice was high-pitched and not entirely her own.
“Jasper, hello!”
“There she is,” Jasper said happily. “How are you?”
Arietta kept her eyes straight ahead, toward the ocean, so as not to look over at Fred. “I’m doing all right. We moved to Nantucket for the summer.”
“Beautiful there this time of year,” Jasper said.
“It really is. Maybe we’ll make ourselves year-rounders,” Arietta said.
“And leave the city? You?” Jasper laughed. “I never imagined you’d slow down like that.”
“Things change,” Arietta said meekly.
“Yes. I suppose they do.” Jasper was quiet for a moment. “I got back from Europe last week,” he explained. “It’s been strange to return to divorce proceedings and angry children.”
“Are things still going okay with your ex-wife?” Arietta asked.
“She’s been a bit colder lately,” Jasper said. “My theory is that she started seeing someone after we broke up, and it didn’t work out.”
Arietta thought it had a ring of truth. “Dating. I can’t imagine doing it again!”
“I tried a bit in Europe, and it embarrassed me to no end.” Jasper laughed. “You should have seen me, trying to impress these Greek and Italian women. They thought I was an idiot.”
“I’m sure they did not.” Arietta smiled, grateful for Jasper’s voice in her ear.
“But I didn’t call you to complain about my love life,” Jasper said.
“I called to complain about something else entirely. Namely, this article I’m supposed to be writing for Scientific American Magazine.
It’s supposed to cover everything we learned at the conference back in Athens, but I can’t seem to get my mind around it.
Do you have time to take a crack at it?”
Arietta stood, letting her book fall with a clunk. “Oh, Jasper. I don’t know. I’m sure you’re close. You’re a brilliant journalist.”
“That’s the thing. I don’t have a lot of confidence in myself right now,” Jasper said. “That’s something I felt you always had in spades. Confidence in your writing. Belief in that agile brain of yours.”
Arietta groaned. “I don’t know, Jasper. I haven’t, you know, written much. Since it happened.”
“But you’re not done writing,” Jasper said. “You can’t be done.”
Arietta walked to the railing and peered out across the water, watching as a sailboat struggled through the wind. Whoever was steering it was not experienced. She could see that in an instant. Fred had always been the most capable sailor she’d ever known.
“I’ll take a look at it,” she said. “Send me what you’ve started, and I’ll give it a go.”
She already knew she was going to regret it.
“That’s beautiful,” Jasper said. She could feel his smile through his voice. “You’re a brilliant writer, Arietta. You’re going to destroy everything I’ve already put down. I welcome that.”
“I don’t know about that.”
Jasper laughed. “Listen, I’m thinking of coming to Nantucket next week. A friend invited me to a party, and I figured I owed it to myself to get a little Nantucket sun. Would you like to meet up?”
At the thought of meeting up with someone who knew her so well, Arietta’s heart leaped.
Jasper wouldn’t ever know about the blackmailer; he wouldn’t ever judge Arietta as harshly as the Salt Sisters probably were right now.
Jasper and Arietta could pretend to be young and happy, with their entire careers ahead of them.
While out with him, Arietta could pretend that Fred was at home, safe and still healthy, waiting for her to return.
Jasper sent Arietta his notes and the beginnings of his article, and Arietta spent the next hour in the sunshine, reading everything and trying to get her mind around fixing what he’d already done.
Jasper’s writing showed how distracted he was, but also how academic and excited he was about the latest research emerging from the field.
“I don’t know if I can do it, Fred,” Arietta said, closing her laptop and leaning her head back. “But it’s fascinating. Maybe I owe it to myself to try.”
Just then, the doorbell rang. Arietta considered letting whoever had come go on their way.
But when the doorbell rang again, she got up, hurried through the house, and opened the front door to find Hilary Salt standing there with a freshly baked blueberry pie in her hands.
She smiled nervously behind her expensive Dior sunglasses, and her sundress fluttered around her ankles.
“Oh. Hello,” Arietta said.
“Hi, Arietta,” Hilary said. “Can I come in for a moment? I won’t bother you for long.”
Arietta knew that Hilary was here to pester her about the blackmail. She knew Hilary was here to tell her to go to the cops. Maybe Hilary had already gone to the cops herself, sure that she was helping Arietta, despite Arietta’s certainty that she didn’t need it.
“All right,” Arietta said finally, opening the door so Hilary could come in.
“This is for you,” Hilary said. “I baked it myself. I hope it’s all right.”
Arietta accepted the blueberry pie, thanked Hilary, and told herself she could throw it out if she wanted to. (Then again, it looked so delicious that she couldn’t fathom doing that. It wouldn’t help anyone to throw it away, anyway, least of all herself.)
First, Arietta led Hilary to the veranda. “This is my husband, Fred,” Arietta said. She watched Hilary’s face intently. If Hilary showed any signs of shock at Fred’s appearance or disability, Arietta planned never to trust her again.
“Hi, Fred,” Hilary said brightly. “I’m Hilary Salt. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Arietta nodded, grateful for Hilary’s humanity. All the tension spilled from her stomach. “We can talk in the kitchen,” she said. “Fred will be okay for a little while.”
In the kitchen, Arietta leaned against the counter and waited for Hilary to say what she’d come to say. Hilary pulled her sunglasses over her forehead and through her hair and sighed.
“I hate how everything happened the other night,” she said. “It probably felt like we dog-piled on you about what was going on. Really, we were frightened, and we didn’t know how to show it.”
Arietta raised her chin. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. I know better than to share so much about myself, especially with a group of strangers.”
“But that’s the thing. We don’t want to be strangers,” Hilary said.
“At one time or another, all of the women at that table were strangers to each other. We’ve built a community of compassion and understanding.
We’ve been there for each other through thick and thin.
Our instinct, when you talked about the blackmail, was to step in and save the day. ”
“I don’t want that,” Arietta said.
“We get that, now,” Hilary said. She was quiet for a moment. “You really don’t know anyone who would want to blackmail you? You don’t know why?”
Arietta cocked her head, surprised that Hilary didn’t get the hint.
“Sorry,” Hilary said, blushing. “I can’t get it out of my head, I guess.” Her eyes scanned the kitchen, pausing at a framed photograph of Arietta, Fred, and their three daughters. “Your girls are beautiful,” she said.
Arietta pointed them out. “That’s Shannon, Felicity, and Isabelle.”
“You must be proud of them,” Hilary said.
Arietta knew that Hilary’s daughter, like her mother, was a famous actress. Arietta wondered how often Hilary got to see her daughter, given that Hilary was so famous and in demand worldwide.
“They have their own lives now,” Arietta said of her daughters. “But Shannon checks in.”
Hilary was quiet for a moment. “You’re on the island by yourself.”
“I have Fred,” Arietta reminded her.
“Of course. But women need girlfriends,” Hilary said. “We’re having another Salt Sisters dinner tomorrow night. I’d really like you to come.”
Arietta laughed. She couldn’t imagine burning under the watchful and judgmental gazes of those women. “I don’t think so. But thanks.”
Hilary rubbed the back of her neck. “We don’t bite, you know. We really like you.”
“You don’t really know me,” Arietta said gently.
Hilary crossed and uncrossed her arms. She seemed to have something to say, then thought better of it. “I’ll leave you alone,” she said. “I just thought I’d give it a try.”
Arietta walked Hilary to the front door, where she thanked her for the pie and told her to drive safely.
Hilary gave her a final knowing look, then put her sunglasses on and walked to her car.
Arietta didn’t wait for Hilary to pull out of the driveway before she returned to her place next to Fred on the veranda.
When she reached for her computer to look over her notes again, she felt tears well up in her eyes and throat.
She swallowed them down, telling herself it didn’t matter.
The Salt Sisters were not her people. Fred was her person. She was where she belonged.