Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
WINNIE
He was the idiot she’d fallen in love with. The second one in a row. Her heart felt like a shriveled piece of seaweed.
Obviously, his talk with his family didn’t go so well. But fired? Yes. Fired. Once again, she was unemployed. She drove very carefully to make up for the chaos in her head.
But it was okay. It was fine. Ir wasn’t like the job had long-term prospects. The end had been coming no matter what. He had just made it…definitive. It was fine.
When she got home, there was a letter of recommendation in her inbox. For God’s sake, he sure hadn’t waited long to sever their last tie.
To Whom it May Concern:
Windsor Smith served as my personal assistant for the past three months.
As a surgeon with an extremely demanding clinical, academic and administrative schedule, I relied heavily on her exceptional organizational skills, judgment and intelligence, all of which she consistently exhibited throughout her employ.
She handled complex scheduling, confidential medical and professional correspondence, travel logistics, as well as high-level coordination with hospitals, academic institutions, and professional organizations, always with efficiency and professionalism.
I found her to be a person of deep integrity and a strong work ethic, and she has my unequivocal recommendation.
Sincerely,
Lorenzo Santini, M.D., Ph.D.
Chief of Special Surgeries at Mass General Brigham Hospital
Distinguished Professor at Harvard University Medical School
Fellow of the American College of Surgeons
She wondered if he’d asked ChatGPT to write it, since it was so impersonal. Then again, so was he.
Even as she had the thought, she felt a little ashamed.
He was not impersonal. She knew that, maybe better than anyone.
The image of him fresh from the Charles flashed like a razor.
Was she crying? Shit. She was crying. She stomped around her tiny house for half an hour, opening and closing cupboards before finally going to bed with four Dateline podcast episodes in the queue to soothe her battered heart.
She felt calmer the next morning. The pragmatic child of Gerald and Ellie Smith had things to do. A résumé to polish. Rosie and Robbie’s wedding in two weeks. Her house could use a good scouring. She had another session with Joyce, Lorenzo’s disorganized neighbor, in Boston.
He’d been so angry. Hurt, really, but also so angry. Had she really been so wrong to urge him to talk to his family? Maybe he was right. She didn’t know them.
She did, however, feel like she knew him.
The man who had so capably looked after her when she’d run into Mitchell at Logan Airport.
Who had kissed her in the elevator, who had jumped into a river to save a little boy and then gone back to the hospital and saved someone else’s life.
He was a man of few words, but God, the words he had said mattered so much. The soft ones and the hard ones.
Her heart ached. He was right. Her advice had not done anything but upset his parents and disappointed him. What did she know? She was the invisible one, after all. She’d never brought that up during a family dinner. Why had she thought Lorenzo should?
Maybe because it mattered to him so much, whereas she was pretty okay with her role.
And also…maybe she wasn’t as invisible as she’d once thought. Quieter, maybe. Less of a drama queen than Addie and Robbie, less brilliant than Harlow and Lark, but she’d never felt unimportant. She knew she was loved.
Maybe Lorenzo didn’t. Maybe that was the difference.
After the Smith family had done a similar joy-explosion at Lark and Dante’s news, Winnie waited a few days, then drove down to meet Lark after her shift in the ER.
They went to a little pub near Hyannis Hospital, one that offered half-pound cheeseburgers and fried pickles, a place Winnie was sure Lorenzo would never visit.
Her sister was waiting for her. They hugged, ordered their burgers, talked about how Lark was feeling, how they were both so excited to see their nephew at the wedding, and how long Grandpop’s best man speech was.
And then, as they ate their delicious and unhealthy meals, Winnie got to it.
“Lorenzo fired me.”
“Oh, no! I’m so sorry! He’s not easy to work for, I’m sure.”
“Actually, he was pretty great. I loved the job, and he was a very good boss.”
Her sister took an enormous bite of her bacon and blue cheese burger. “So what went wrong, honey?” she asked thickly, cheeks bulging.
To her shock and horror, Winnie felt tears sting her eyes. “I, uh…I pushed him a little. To talk about his feelings and tell his family that he wished he felt closer to them. Because he’s a little stunted, as you know, but underneath, he’s…more.”
“I always thought so, too,” Lark said with a kind smile, then eyed the uneaten half of Winnie’s burger. “Are you going to finish that?”
“No, no, go ahead.”
Lark lunged. “Sorry, I’m starving. I swear, I eat seventeen times a day.” When Winnie didn’t respond, Lark said, “So why did he fire you?”
Winnie looked at her plate. “I told him he should get out of his own way, in a nutshell. That he could do better with people if he wasn’t so afraid of rejection.” Like it had been any of her business. “And he didn’t like that assessment. I should’ve stayed in my lane. I don’t blame him.”
Lark finished the last bite of the burger. “Well, you weren’t wrong,” she said, swallowing. “Do you miss him?”
Winnie cut her a filthy look.
“Kind of fell for him, didn’t you?”
“No!” She paused. “Maybe. Yes. Here, eat my fries, you poor starving thing.”
Lark accepted. “So what now?”
“Now? Nothing. I’ll see him at your baby’s christening and once or twice a year after that.”
“Mm.” Lark said nothing else, using a few of Harlow’s Jedi mind tricks. Robbie would’ve stolen her phone and texted Lorenzo pretending to be her. Addie would’ve given an hour-long lecture on how to be more like her and Nicole.
“So you’re feeling pretty good?” Winnie asked, eager to change the subject. “I mean, Lark, there’s a human growing inside you!”
“I know! I feel great. Just hungry all the time. Hey, speaking of christenings…” She paused and ate another fry, then smiled at Winnie. “Will you be our baby’s godmother?”
Winnie choked. “Seriously? Addie will shiv me! But yes! Oh, my God, are you sure, Lark? What about Dante’s sisters, though?”
“We both want you,” Lark said.
A different kind of tears filled Winnie’s eyes. “Yes. Of course. Thank you, Lark. But seriously, Addie’s going to murder me in my sleep once she finds out. Pretty sure she thought her twinship would land her godmother.”
Lark leaned across the table and kissed Winnie’s cheek. “Believe it or not, she already knows.”
“Should I check my brake lines?”
“Nope. She said it was a great idea.”
“Once she stopped hissing and biting you, you mean?”
Lark laughed. “Yes. She’s about to send you ten thousand suggestions of what the baby will need. Ignore them all.”
“She can still buy you all the stuff. I mean, she is the queen of consumers.”
“She is. Dante and I are happy with hand-me-downs, though. Maybe your job can be returning presents we don’t want.”
“Ah ha. It’s all making sense now, this godmother honor.” But she smiled at her sister, touched beyond words. “Your baby will be the luckiest baby in the world because you’re its mother, Lark,” she said, and she meant it.
* * *
She had left her favorite pair of pajamas at Lorenzo’s Chatham house.
She checked her phone to see where he was—he had yet to turn off location sharing.
He was at Mass General, of course. She felt a pang at the image of him standing over a patient in the OR, solemn and focused and brilliant (and tired, misunderstood and lonely; knock it off Winnie, he’s fine).
At any rate, he was two hours away, and she could go to the house, get her jammies, take a final look at the house she’d come to love and say goodbye.
The place was chilly, though a few lights were on, since she’d set up daylight sensors so the place wouldn’t look abandoned after dark.
She went inside, down the stairs and past the wine-red couch, which she patted in farewell.
Got her pajamas, checked to see if there was anything else of hers, ordered herself not to be sentimental, because her throat was tightening.
This place had been a shelter for her, a place to be useful and heal.
The sheets on her bed were already clean, all the towels fresh, so she had no excuse to stay longer.
Back upstairs, she looked at his kitchen island, empty now.
No flowers, no baked goods, no bowl of oranges or lemons.
All traces of her, erased. She put a martini glass in the freezer…
a reminder to relax and enjoy and indulge once in a while. He deserved that.
A knock at the door made her jump. She answered it, and there stood a woman about her own age, and Fluffina, on a leash, wagging her plumy tail.
“Hi!” said the woman. “You live here, right?”
“Um…not exactly, no. I was staying here for a while, but that’s all done now.” Again, her throat tightened.
“Oh. I’m Fiona? I live down the beach? Listen, I know this is completely stupid, but you like her, right?” She indicated the dog.
“Fluffina?”
“Bailey. I’ve seen you playing with her? On the beach?”
Fluffina was so not a Bailey. “Yeah, I’ve played with her. She’s such a good girl.” Fluffina wagged and smiled her doggy smile in affirmation, and Winnie smiled back at her.
“Yeah,” Fiona agreed. “Here’s the thing. She’s a lot. She’s so energetic, and she sheds constantly. I mean, I love her, but like, my house? It’s always a wreck. I was wondering if you wanted her. She cost a lot. She’s purebred and everything.”
“You’re giving her away because she sheds?” Winnie asked. Clearly, the woman was a Disney villain if that was the case.
Fiona sighed. “I have two kids under four. I don’t know what we were thinking. I just can’t give her the attention she needs.” She began to cry. “It’s not fair to the dog. I thought I’d try you, but if you can’t take her, I’ll bring her to a shelter or whatever.”
“No! I mean, yes, I’ll take her,” Winnie said. “But I live in Wellfleet, not here, so you and your kids won’t see her.”
“I’ll just tell the kids a nice lady owns her now. Will you take her to the beach? She loves running.”
“I live right across the street from the water. Here, give me your phone number, and I’ll text you pictures. You and the kids can even come visit if you want.”
“Really? God, thank you. And like, you can stop by if you’re down here, too. Seriously. Thank you.”
A few minutes later, Fiona had given her a bag of food from the car (she’d clearly assumed Winnie would say yes), some squeaky toys and a dog bed covered in a thick layer of white fur on it. “Bye, Bailey. I mean, Fluffina, you said?” She smiled at Winnie. “Good luck. Thanks again.”
The dog’s tail wagged as Fiona walked away, but otherwise, she didn’t seem at all sad. “Well, then, Fluffina,” Winnie said, and the dog looked at her, eyes bright and excited. “Who wants to go for a ride?”