Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
The night after her aunt and uncle’s most recent party, Nora sat alone on the veranda overlooking the Nantucket Sound, trying and failing to focus on the book splayed on her thighs.
Vaguely, she could hear the kids upstairs, singing songs as they got ready for bed, Mona screaming the scream she always used when she wanted to keep playing but desperately needed to sleep.
It tugged at Nora’s heart, willing her to go upstairs and help Stacy.
But she knew it wasn’t her place any longer.
As twilight fuzzed over the ocean, Nora thought back to last night and how she was sure that Uncle Everett was going to take Cynthia’s “secret” boyfriend, Hank, off and murder him.
Max had told her that was happening, and she’d fallen into that fantasy, suddenly sure that they were in the prelude to a murder mystery.
She’d been sure that she could save Hank’s life. She was a fool.
Nora was grateful that she hadn’t gotten the chance to tell Aunt Cynthia her fears before she’d seen Uncle Everett and Hank returning to the party.
Imagining what Aunt Cynthia might have done to her if she’d said all that aloud was harrowing.
Probably, Nora would have been shipped off to boarding school somewhere.
The worst part of that future, Nora knew, was knowing that Max would be far away. They’d spend the rest of their lives forgetting each other. And Nora wasn’t sure she could handle that.
For the first time, Nora realized that she needed to claim her romantic agency.
Hurrying back indoors, she listened intently for any sign of her aunt and uncle.
She was pretty sure they were in the study, drinking cocktails and, probably, gossiping about what had happened last night.
This left Nora time to find the keys to the car she’d always used and escape into the night.
Driving far below the speed limit, as though frightened she was going to get pulled over, Nora went toward town, toward the harbor, toward people and life.
She had no idea where Max lived or how to find out.
But when she parked near a local sailing bar, the lights beckoned her inside, where she ordered a soda and sat directly at the bar, letting her legs swing beneath her as she eyed the clientele.
She felt sure that one of these people knew where Max lived, or at least where she could find him.
He had a secret life, one that had nothing to do with her life at the Greenaway house.
She was suddenly seized with panic. What if Max had another girlfriend?
What if his “using” of Nora and her closeness to the Greenaways had gotten out of hand, leading to their scandalous affair? Her pulse quickened.
“You doing all right, miss?” The bartender behind the counter flashed her a funny smile, one that proved he knew she was underage, but that he didn’t care so long as she didn’t cause a scene. He pulled a towel around a beer glass.
Nora sipped her soda and tried to act coy. “You have a nice place here,” she said.
The bartender laughed. “I’ll pass that on to the boss. He loves a good review.”
“I’m not from here,” Nora went on. There weren’t any customers directly at the bar just then, which gave her his undivided attention. “But I’m trying to build a map in my head. Which restaurants to go to? Which bars. Which people to meet?” Could she find a way to Max?
The bartender smiled. “You’re a young adventurer.”
“Something like that,” she said. For a few minutes, she made up a story about having graduated from high school and “wanting to see the whole world before college.” This story placed her at slightly older than sixteen, with more responsibilities and a greater place in the world.
The bartender seemed to buy it. He told her a story in return, one about hitchhiking across France when he was in his early twenties.
“Best time of my life,” he said, looking mystical.
“I never imagined that life could come down to what bills you have to pay and what your kids need from you. But I wouldn’t trade my life on Nantucket for anything.
You know, you might get stuck here.” He laughed. “I certainly did.”
Nora smiled. “It wouldn’t be so bad to get stuck here.
” And then, heart pounding, she willed herself to ask the question she’d come with.
“Actually, I met an islander a few weeks ago. We’ve been seeing each other more and more.
To tell you the truth, I’m falling for him.
Hard. But I don’t know where he lives or how to reach him.
We’ve exchanged letters, but he always listed his return address as some fish bait shop not far from here. ”
The bartender’s face echoed his intrigue. Nora was surprised that he’d taken such an interest in her silly, teenage life.
“Tell me his name,” the bartender said. “Maybe I can help you.”
“Max Spader,” Nora said, her cheeks burning.
The bartender grinned wider. “You’re in luck. Max Spader is someone I know.”
The bartender explained that he’d grown up with Max’s parents, that he’d been at Max’s birthday parties during his childhood before he and Max’s dad had a falling out. “But it was awful what happened to him,” the bartender said, shaking his head.
Nora spoke as quietly as she could, asking, “Is it true that a really rich guy killed Max’s dad?”
The bartender had to ask her to repeat herself three times. “I can’t hear you over the music.” But when he finally understood, his face was gray with sorrow. “Who knows what happened that night? But the rumors are fierce. And that particular family is a menace.”
Nora’s stomach thrashed. If everyone believed the Greenaways were murderers, who was she to insist they were anything else? Who was she to insist that because they were “kind” to her, they hadn’t murdered Max’s father?
The bartender said that Max was probably washing dishes at a nearby fish restaurant.
“He told me he was working there this summer, making some extra bucks. But I don’t know if he managed to keep it.
He disappeared for about a week recently, and nobody knew where he was.
” When Nora made a face, he laughed. “I think he might have been with you.”
Nora didn’t confirm or deny. But she finished her soda and handed the bartender a five-dollar bill—enough for her drink and an enormous tip. The bartender smiled. “I guess that information was worth a lot to you? I hope I didn’t get Max in trouble.”
“You didn’t,” Nora said, speeding off in the direction of the restaurant.
The restaurant was clogged with hungry, sunburnt tourists.
Nora hovered at the edge of the front veranda, feeling exposed and slightly chilly, watching as waiters performed balancing acts, guiding massive trays of fish and potatoes through round tables.
They didn’t look at Nora at all, conscious that she was a nobody without a lot of money to spend.
Using her invisibility, she slipped around the side and entered the restaurant from the back, where she found herself near an enormous pile of trash, mostly made of fish guts.
She shivered and stepped deeper into the kitchen, where she saw chefs hovering over flickering flames, calling out to one another as they worked through the food tickets.
Nora stapled herself against the wall, not wanting to get in the way.
Each time a chef finished a plate, he turned and set it in a little window, where the servers would come and collect it, whisking it off to their hungry patrons.
But where was the sink?
Nora followed the sound of splashing water.
Still against the wall, she felt like a predator, slinking through the jungle.
Everything was humid and sweat pooled on her lower back.
But when she found Max, standing at the massive kitchen sink, his sleeves rolled up over his elbows, her heart stopped.
Here he was, messy and sweaty and singing the songs that sputtered out of the speaker on the counter beside him.
Here was the man she wanted desperately to love and keep loving.
She was sixteen, and he was seventeen, but their ages didn’t matter.
“Max?” she said.
Max turned. When he realized she was there, he cut the water and stood, his fingers dripping. Bruce Springsteen came on the radio.
“Nora,” Max said, and then he smiled. “What are you doing here?”
Nora couldn’t resist him. She rushed headlong through the kitchen, nearly toppling a chef, and threw her arms around Max’s neck. They kissed next to the stinking sink, their eyes closed. They kissed until one of Max’s bosses hollered at him to get out of the kitchen if he wasn’t going to work.
“You can’t lose your job,” Nora said as he made to leave, guiding her out.
“They pay me next to nothing anyway,” Max said. “I’m done.”
Nora laughed, energized by how easy it all seemed for him to move through the world. They sped into the night, where they found a bench near the boardwalk and curled around each other. Nora apologized profusely for last night and for acting so strangely after Max had told her about his father.
“I didn’t know what to think,” she said. “But you’re so good, so kind, so wonderful. I don’t know why you would ever lie about something like that.”
Max cupped her hands. “I never imagined I would meet and fall in love with you. You’ve really made a mess of my plan.”
Nora took a sharp breath. She liked the idea of making a mess of his plan. She liked the idea of falling messily through life together.
“When your uncle took Cynthia’s boyfriend away from the party, I was so sure that history was repeating itself,” Max said, his eyes suddenly vacant.
“It’s how it happened with my father, you know.
My father was working at their party. Tending bar, I think.
Probably everyone knew that he was having an affair with Cynthia at that point.
It probably was no secret. Somehow, someway, your uncle invited my father out on his sailboat.
The sun was setting, and I imagine it was gorgeous.
I imagine, too, that my dad didn’t know how to say no to Everett, especially given that he was an employee there, and he was having an affair with his wife. ”
Nora’s heart thudded. So her initial vision of a murder in the pool wasn’t right.
“He never came back, obviously,” Max explained.
“They said there was an accident. But it feels too convenient. There are too many questions at play. Like, there’s no reason in the world that my father would have been out on a boat with Everett Greenaway, not unless Everett had a scheme up his sleeves. ”
Nora understood what he meant. “I don’t want history to repeat itself.”
“I can’t let it,” Max affirmed. “But I want to get that guy behind bars so bad, Nora. I want him to pay for what he did to my father and my family.”
Nora was quiet. She reckoned with how complicated it must be for Max to mourn a father who’d wronged his mother, too, and try to avenge a father who’d cheated on his mother and the family with the sinister wife of the evil man in the biggest house on Nantucket Island.
It felt cartoonishly awful.
Max draped his hand over her cheek and kissed her. “Why did you come find me tonight?” he asked.
“I didn’t know if you’d ever come back,” Nora said. “And I was tired of waiting for you to come find me whenever you wanted to.”
Max laughed. “You aren’t that kind of girl. I know that.”