Chapter 11
Darcy was packed up and ready to head back to Nantucket by the time her grandmother got up.
Emerging from her bedroom, Estelle looked pretty and red-cheeked and well-slept, although Darcy’s mother had shared that she’d gotten up to hear Estelle crying in the night.
Darcy hugged her grandmother goodbye and wished her well.
“You’re going to kill it, Grandma,” she said.
“I wish I could be there every step of the way.” But of course, Darcy was needed back in Nantucket.
In the car, headed back to the island, Darcy sang songs and drove slowly, conscious of the three people awaiting her safe arrival.
At a rest stop, she checked her texts to see that her mother and grandmother were already headed out of New York City, taking the train south for another book signing at a store in Philadelphia.
They were on an adventure—one that required no car and plenty of goodwill and conversation.
Darcy reached the island by midafternoon.
She found Steven, Gavin, and Remy in the living room, surrounded by heaps of toys.
Steven and Gavin were laughing like hyenas, while Remy sat off to the side, furrowing her brow, as though she was confused.
Darcy pulled her into her arms and said, “Let’s watch Daddy and Gavin play, shall we?
” Remy continued to frown as Steven and Gavin tumbled all over the living room.
Sometimes Darcy had to remind them to stop playing so roughly, but mostly, she knew it was good for both of them.
She couldn’t play like that. She couldn’t help Gavin release all that boy energy. That was what a father was for.
That night, after bath time, reading time, and bedtime, Darcy and Steven cuddled on the sofa and talked about their time apart. Again, they spoke about how strange Remy was acting.
“Maybe it’s just her personality,” Darcy suggested. “Maybe she’s guarded and nervous and waiting to act.” Darcy remembered being like that when she was younger. She remembered Rachelle as louder, more courageous, and messier, while Darcy, despite being older, waited in the wings.
Steven suggested they watch a television show together, something to help them unwind.
But within five minutes of turning it on, Steven was out like a light, leaving Darcy alone with her thoughts.
She texted her mother, albeit briefly, and then allowed herself a few minutes on social media.
It was only because of these five minutes that she learned about what happened to her sister’s restaurant.
It was a newspaper article from an American expats in Italy site.
It read “American-owned Restaurant Coleman Cites Accidental Explosion as Reason for Closure.” Darcy was on her feet, gaping at the headline.
The article itself was only a few paragraphs, most of which discussed how excited the American community in Italy had been for Rachelle’s restaurant and how devastating it was that the fire had broken out.
The accident had happened about two weeks ago, it said, which meant that, for the past two weeks, Rachelle had been living through inconceivable sorrow and loss.
Darcy panged with emotion, wondering what she should do.
Rather than call her sister or her mother or anyone else, Darcy dared herself to look up Rachelle’s social media. She hadn’t blocked her, exactly, but she’d kept a wide berth since they’d stopped talking, just so that she didn’t injure her heart with news of Rachelle.
Rachelle’s page had nothing about the restaurant.
The first photo that popped up was of Rachelle and a very handsome man in his thirties, pressing a kiss to her cheek.
Rachelle had extended her beautiful hand to show off an ornate, antique engagement ring.
Darcy couldn’t breathe. Her sister was getting married! And Darcy and Sam didn’t know!
Darcy was at a loss for words. She paced the living room, then went into the kitchen to force herself to drink some water.
Before she could stop herself, she began researching this Riccardo fiancé.
It seemed that Riccardo was from a very wealthy Italian family, one with the sort of old-world European wealth that put Grandpa Chuck’s coinage to shame.
Darcy couldn’t believe it. According to Riccardo’s personal website, he was a chef, like Rachelle.
But he didn’t seem to be working anywhere right now.
Darcy wondered if he was leaning on his parents’ wealth in the lead-up to the wedding.
She wondered how swanky the wedding would be.
Was Rachelle ever going to tell Darcy about the engagement? Were they ever going to talk again?
Suddenly, Steven appeared in the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. Darcy hadn’t expected him and let out a shriek of alarm.
“Baby, what’s going on?” Steven asked, extending his arms.
Darcy fell into them and allowed herself a good, honest cry. She couldn’t tell Steven what was on her mind, not really, as it sounded so silly. She didn’t want to talk about Rachelle, anyway.
But instead of any of that, she said, “I’m worried about Remy.”
Steven held her tighter, then whispered, “I’m worried about her, too.”
It took Darcy another two days to make a doctor’s appointment for Remy.
During that time, she concentrated hard on the little girl, trying to make sense of what was going on and why she was so afraid, why she so often pretended not to hear them when they said her name.
It was like she wanted to abandon the world.
It was like she wanted them to know she wasn’t ready for them.
Darcy and Steven dropped Gavin off at Hilary and Marc’s place en route to the doctor.
They didn’t tell anyone it wasn’t a routine checkup.
They pretended that everything was all right, which was what you had to do until you really knew anything was wrong.
Hilary hugged Darcy tight, as though she could read her face.
“How’s Marc?” Darcy asked.
“He’s resting,” Hilary said, sorrow in her eyes. “But he’ll be fine.”
Darcy knew that her family was aging, that there were things she had to prepare for in the future. One day, all the people she loved wouldn’t be here any longer.
But now wasn’t the time to think about all of that.
After spending a little bit of time with Remy, the doctor prescribed several tests.
“What are you checking for?” Darcy demanded.
The doctor looked serious. “We’re going to check her hearing,” he said. “Among other cognitive issues.”
Panic thundered through Darcy. “Her hearing? Her ears?”
The doctor nodded. Steven looked distraught.
That night, they ordered pizza and looked at one another across the table as their babies slept upstairs.
Had they done something wrong? Had they done something to cause this?
Darcy counted back all the failures she’d ever displayed as a mother.
She thought about the snacks she’d made for them.
Had they been healthy enough? She thought about the sunshine she’d allowed them and the television that had maybe been turned on for too long.
She thought and cried and worried. But all they could do was wait.
Meanwhile, via text message with her mother, Darcy continued to pretend that everything was all right.
Sam and Estelle had gone through Philadelphia and into Cleveland and on to Washington, DC, each time receiving massive crowds who adored Estelle’s books.
In photographs, Darcy marveled that her grandmother looked ten years younger than she had the previous year.
The book tour appeared to have rejuvenated her.
During Remy’s tests, Darcy stayed by her side throughout, while Steven remained at home with Gavin.
Darcy reminded herself to be upbeat, to pretend that nothing was wrong.
Now that they were questioning Remy’s hearing, it seemed tremendously clear that Remy struggled to understand what was going on, that perhaps that had been going on for longer than any of them had realized.
Darcy felt a shame that only a mother could.
“How could I have let it get so bad?” she asked the doctor, tears in her eyes.
“It happens all the time,” the doctor replied.
During the second week of July, Remy was diagnosed with total deafness in her left ear and partial deafness in her right.
“But there are things to be done,” the doctor told Darcy and Steven, as they gripped each other’s hands and gaped at him.
“The world is a different place than it used to be. The available medical procedures mean she will hear again, in some way or another.”
But that night at Darcy and Steven’s place, everything felt like doom and gloom.
Darcy couldn’t stop crying, and eventually, Gavin padded downstairs from his bedroom to ask her what was wrong.
Darcy quieted immediately and hugged Gavin, telling him that everything would be all right.
But Gavin patted her shoulder and told her he was there for her, if she needed anything. That broke her heart even more.
With a baby monitor in hand to monitor the goings-on in the house, Darcy and Steven went outside to walk along the sand and put their feet in the water.
At thirty-two, Darcy felt older than any person in the entire world.
Steven rubbed her back and reminded her they were in this together, as a family.
She knew she needed to call her mother soon, to call her back to Nantucket.
She would need her. But she didn’t want to break up Estelle and Sam’s travel bubble. It looked beautiful and free.
“What if she never hears the sea?” Darcy whispered, listening as the water rushed onto shore and receded. “What if she never hears music, or doesn’t know the sound of our voices?”
“You heard the doctor,” Steven told her, kissing her cheek, then her forehead. “We can attack this head-on.”
“But what if it doesn’t work?” Darcy felt heavy with regret and uncertainty. She wondered if she was being overly dramatic, if Steven would eventually tell her to get a hold of herself. Maybe somebody needed to.
But that night, after Steven had fallen asleep beside her, Darcy allowed herself another stalking of Rachelle’s social media.
In several photographs, Rachelle was seen with Riccardo, taste-testing the wedding cake for their big day.
They looked smitten, smiling, sometimes with frosting on their lips.
Rachelle had posted them with the caption: Who wants to guess which one we chose?
Hint: it’s a flavor that we don’t usually have in America! I’m going full Italian, baby!
Darcy’s heart dropped into her stomach. She pressed on the DM button, then prepared to write her sister now, from here in the darkness of her bed.
But what could she possibly say? It was clear that Rachelle had moved leaps and bounds away from Nantucket Island and from Darcy.
It was clear that she never thought about them.
Remy’s illness was nothing that Rachelle would care about. Rachelle had hardly even met Remy, in fact. She’d held her in her arms just the one time, and Darcy had sensed that she’d wanted to give her back to Darcy as soon as possible. She’d been uncomfortable and an aunt in name alone.