Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
S carlet returned to the hotel by eleven thirty that night. She felt buzzy and adrenalized and unsure how she would account for all her time away to her mother. But her mother’s door was already closed. She’d left a note on the table in the main room that said, “Pretty beat. Love you. See you in the morning.”
Scarlet tried to parse the meaning behind the note. What had happened at the library? Had her mother discovered more about her great-grandfather Gionnocaro?
Of course, Scarlet understood how her mother got when she was immersed in a project. It was as though the rest of the world filtered away and left only the bare bones of what she needed to know and what she wanted to learn.
Scarlet showered the beer smell of Johnny’s Bar off and got into bed. It was hard to believe the day she’d had. It was exhilararting to remember every beat; she never wanted to forget it. The fact that Nathan had turned out to be her Reddit poster; that they’d watched the film together; that they’d laughed and cried together at the bar felt like too much.
Now, Nathan had promised to quit his multiple jobs and give up his apartment and come to Nantucket to break the story.
But that was unlikely to happen. Wasn’t it?
Because Scarlet couldn’t sleep, she decided to call Ivy to see what was up at home. Ivy didn’t answer but sent a text that read: What’s up? I’m out. It was succinct and cool.
SCARLET: It’s been super weird in NYC. Wanted to chat.
IVY: You come back tomorrow? I’ll see you then.
Scarlet knew Ivy was out with her secret boyfriend. She threw her phone to the foot of her bed, just as it buzzed with another message. Scarlet told herself to let it be. But curiosity eventually got to her, and she whipped up to read it.
NATHAN: It was so good to see you.
The words sent electricity through her arms and down her body, all the way to her toes. She fell back against the pillows and stared at his name. Something about him attracted her more than she could really say. Was it the fact that he’d rejected his parents’ money to make it on his own? Was it because he loved art and film and music so much? Or was it just this intense attraction between them—one that seemed chemical?
She didn’t know. And she wasn’t sure she’d ever find out.
It would be crazy if Nathan really came to Nantucket. He would surely drop out.
The following morning, Scarlet got up early and read over her notes from her night with Nathan, making adjustments here and there and visualizing the interview itself. Maybe, if Nathan didn’t agree to come to Nantucket, she could still come back to NYC and interview him in front of a green screen or something. Maybe he’d still agree to be minorly involved.
Catherine returned from her run at seven. Scarlet was in the main room, drinking coffee and nibbling peanuts she happened to have in her bag. A light hangover spread through the back of her skull. She needed an egg-bacon-cheese sandwich from a bodega. She needed something greasy or fried.
Catherine looked frantic. She sat on the floor to stretch. Her breathing was ragged.
“How was your day?” Scarlet finally asked.
“Huh?” Catherine looked up. It was almost as though she was surprised to see Scarlet there.
“How was the library?” Scarlet asked again.
“Oh! It was fine.”
This was startlingly low on information. “Did you find more stuff about Great-Grandpa?”
“A little bit,” Catherine admitted. “I want to go back today.”
Scarlet bowed her head. When her mother had asked her to come to Manhattan, Scarlet had imagined helping her; digging through the archives together; discovering secrets about their family. But Catherine was being cagey.
“Do you mind?” Catherine asked, her voice brightening. “I mean, I know you have your own things to take care of. Your own friends and projects.”
She said it with hope in her voice. Scarlet still refused to tell her mother anything about her project. Not until she knew more. Not until she’d fleshed it out herself.
Once, Catherine had confessed that she was the same way with her own mother. That Vivian was so intellectual and authoritative and terrifying that Catherine liked to keep things close to her chest until she knew exactly how to articulate them.
Scarlet knew that Catherine would be brokenhearted if she knew Scarlet thought the same way about her as she did about Vivian. But life was cyclical like that.
Catherine showered and left an hour later. Scarlet pulled on her tennis shoes and left not long after that, stepping breezily through the streets until she found a bodega with a perfect breakfast sandwich and burnt coffee. She sat on a picnic table outside and people-watched for a while. It was a little too hot to sit like that, totally exposed to the elements, and the people who passed in their business clothing were sweating and often angry.
Suddenly, she longed for Nantucket.
A text came through from Nathan.
NATHAN: Hey! I just quit my jobs, and I’m about to meet with a few people who want to sublet my room. Want to hang out while they come over?
Scarlet cackled with surprise. A woman in a suit jacket gave her a terrifying look, as though her happiness wasn’t wanted this early.
SCARLET: I’ll be right there.
Scarlet decided to take the subway to the Lower East Side and reached Nathan’s apartment by ten thirty. He buzzed her inside, and she hurried up three flights of stairs to discover Nathan in the quaint living room of a four-bedroom apartment he shared with three other people in their twenties. This was the reality of rejecting the money your parents had. There were a lot of dirty dishes in the sink.
Nathan looked happy and big-eyed, as though he’d just won a prize that had changed his entire life. He’d just made himself a big plate of eggs and greeted Scarlet with a hug. “Welcome!”
Scarlet laughed and came inside. “I can’t believe you quit.”
“I said I would,” Nathan said with a shrug.
Scarlet’s pulse quickened. It means the documentary is real. It’s happening.
I have to fully face it, now.
I owe him.
“Were they angry?” Scarlet asked.
“What? No way. People quit those jobs all the time,” Nathan said. “It’s not like they offered a pension plan.”
Scarlet laughed and tried to get comfortable on his sofa, but it felt like it was made of cardboard and cotton balls.
“I’m between visitors,” Nathan said. “But the rent is cheap. I’m guessing one of these people will take it.”
Very soon after that, a girl in her early twenties with what looked to be twelve piercings on each ear came in, took one look at the room, and said she could move in right away. The rent of nine-fifty was a sneeze for her, apparently. Scarlet sucked in her cheeks and watched as the woman sent the money to Nathan with her phone.
Nathan smacked his thighs. “Looks like I need a place to stay in Nantucket!”
“You’re going to Nantucket?” the girl with the piercings asked, chewing her gum.
“We have a project there,” he explained.
“My parents have a place there,” the girl said.
“Everyone’s parents have a place there!” Nathan threw up his hands.
“Do yours?” Scarlet asked, hoping he might be able to stay there.
“Mine are Hamptons’ people,” Nathan explained.
Scarlet tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. It was suddenly clear he needed to stay with her in the Historic District. There was no other way.
The girl went into her room, slammed the door, and immediately launched into a voice message in a language neither Nathan nor Scarlet understood. Scarlet wanted to get out of there.
“My mom doesn’t want to leave till tomorrow or the next day,” Scarlet admitted. “But I’m happy to get out of the city now.”
Nathan tilted his head. “You sure?”
“She’s lost in her own research,” Scarlet said, waving her hand. “And it sounds like you need a bed tonight.”
“Do you have a spare?” Nathan asked with a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t even ask. Maybe I was rash?”
“No. It’s exciting. Really.” Scarlet wet her lips. Adrenaline coursed through her. “You want to come back to my hotel with me? I can pack up my stuff, and then…”
“We’ll take the bus.”
Scarlet laughed. “I guess that’s the only way.”
Nathan had already packed a large hiking backpack with everything he wanted to bring, including recording and film equipment he’d brought home from film school. It was hard to gauge what else was in there. Toiletries? Underwear? It was August in Nantucket, which meant he didn’t require much more than a swimsuit and a few T-shirts and shorts.
What if he stays longer? Scarlet asked herself, then immediately quieted the voice.
Nathan and Scarlet buzzed down the street. They talked quickly, exchanging exciting ideas about how they could get to the bottom of this and begin the documentary. They talked about movies they liked and documentaries they wanted to honor; they talked about the documentary film festival they wanted to be featured at.
They talked and talked and talked.
Scarlet thought they would never run out of things to say.
Once in their hotel, Scarlet tried to call her mother, but Catherine didn’t answer. So she sent a text and wrote a note, then packed up and headed with Nathan for the bus station. It was a rare form of transportation for a girl of such privilege. But Nathan had once been privileged, too.
Nathan and Scarlet got on the bus and sped out of the city, back to Nantucket.
“I feel like I’m escaping a prison,” Nathan said as New York City got smaller and smaller out the window. “I think it was about to suffocate me.”
“I know what you mean,” Scarlet breathed.