Chapter 35
The house is exactly how Tilly remembers it.
The sage, wood-clad building faces the lake, a sprawling garden tumbling down to the pontoon where the ancient family boat is moored.
The land is surrounded by trees, the vivid green reflected in the water that buzzes with mayflies in the warm afternoon sun.
Ellen and Hank are waiting for her on the front step when Tilly arrives, having refused the offer of being collected at the airport.
An airport reunion had felt like too much pressure, especially as she stumbled off the plane bleary-eyed, having found the journey harder than she’d imagined.
When she viewed Connecticut through the plane window she broke down, the stranger sat next to her offering her tissues and a slug of gin.
She has a moment to gather herself as she pays the driver and takes hold of her suitcase.
Joe’s parents look older, but it doesn’t surprise Tilly.
She feels older too. Ellen is dressed in denim Bermuda shorts and a white cheesecloth top, her grey hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, her lips set in a tight smile.
Hank shuffles beside her in his usual cargo shorts and T-shirt, his hair flecked with more white than Tilly remembered.
As she approaches the porch Tilly catches Ellen’s eyes flashing instinctively back to the taxi as if searching for someone. But the car is already pulling away, and then Hank strides out to meet her, reaching his arms out for her case.
‘Let me take that. Good to see you, honey.’ His rough, bearded face brushes against hers as he kisses her cheek.
Ellen is still poised on the step, the big house silhouetted behind her.
Before she can move or say anything, three golden retrievers come tearing out from behind her, circling around Tilly, tails wagging and tongues lolling in a frenzy of excitement.
She drops her backpack and bends to stroke them, soaking up the warmth of their greeting and letting herself get entirely covered in dog hair and dribble.
It breaks something that was holding the air taut and Ellen steps forward, calling the dogs away and wrapping her arms around Tilly in a brief hug. Then she steps away, looking at her with an expression that is hard to read.
‘Welcome back. It’s good to have you here.’
‘Thank you, it’s good to be here,’ Tilly replies, aware that they are probably both lying.
‘I’ve put you in the yellow room at the front of the house,’ Ellen says.
Together Ellen and Tilly carry her bags up the stairs, Hank having disappeared out to the dock. As they pass Joe’s childhood bedroom Tilly gets a glimpse through the door, left ajar. The mattress is dented and the sheets are slightly crumpled as though someone has recently curled up there.
Ellen leads them to the bright room that looks over the lake, the bed neatly made and fresh towels on the pillow. The room Tilly and Joe always stayed in is on the other side of the house, facing the woods.
‘Thank you, it’s lovely.’
Ellen smooths the bedcovers, then steps over to the window where Hank is visible down on the jetty, a fishing line trailing in the water.
‘He’s been out there a lot ever since …’
It feels suddenly unbearable to be in this house with this woman, their past tensions and their shared loss making the air thick and oppressive. How will they get through the next few days together? And does Tilly really have the strength for it?
Then Ellen turns around on the spot, a smile pinned to her face.
‘I’m sure you’re tired from your journey. I’ll leave you to rest. We’ll eat at seven.’
When Ellen closes the door behind her, Tilly has the distinct feeling that she’s been banished to her room.
Over dinner Ellen gives no sign of bringing up the talk she mentioned in her messages. They stick to safe subjects: the grandchildren, the recent weather, which neighbours have repainted their houses, and Tilly’s recent travels.
There’s a moment when Ellen is serving Tilly a second helping of pot roast and it strikes her that Ellen’s eyes are the exact same shade of blue as Joe’s, and something inside her softens, wanting to reach out for her hand.
But she holds back, Ellen deftly moving the conversation to her upcoming hiking holiday with friends, never betraying any real emotion.
Hank goes up to bed early, kissing Ellen on the cheek and giving Tilly’s shoulder a squeeze, his expression weary.
Tilly and Ellen are left alone, cleaning up together mostly in silence.
‘Well, goodnight, then,’ Tilly says once the dishwasher is loaded and the table is clear, the dogs snoring in their baskets in the corner.
Ellen runs a tea towel through her hand. ‘Tilly, I …’
‘Yes?’
She meets Ellen’s eye, and for a moment her mother-in-law’s expression softens. But then she stiffens again, folding the tea towel neatly and hanging it over the handle of the cooker.
‘Goodnight. Hank and I tend to go out early for a hike in the mornings. I know that’s not really your thing. So help yourself to breakfast.’
It’s only when Tilly is about to turn off her light after reading a couple of chapters of Letter from New York that she realizes she has left her phone downstairs. She pushes the cover off and leaves the room, stepping into the darkened hallway.
She pauses when she sees a light on in Joe’s childhood room.
With careful footsteps she edges towards the light.
The door is still ajar and through the gap she can see Ellen, sat on the bed with a framed photo in her hand.
Her eyes are red and Tilly is about to turn away when the floorboard creaks and Ellen looks up, her expression momentarily unguarded. Her mouth opens as she spots Tilly.
‘Oh,’ she sniffs, lifting a hand to her face.
‘Sorry, I was just getting my phone from downstairs.’
‘OK,’ Ellen says quietly, her gaze returning to the photo.
Tilly hesitates.
‘I always liked that photo.’
Ellen looks up again at the sound of Tilly’s voice. The picture shows the whole Carter family stood beside the family boat when Joe must have been around twelve.
‘Joe had a framed copy on his desk.’
Ellen’s eyebrows raise, her head tilting slightly. ‘He did?’
‘He had loads of photos of you, all around the house. He missed you.’
‘We missed him,’ Ellen says with another sniff. ‘We miss him.’
‘I know. I do too.’ So much that it feels as if her heart is being crushed inside her chest.
If Joe were here they probably would have all stayed up late, drinking and talking, because Joe always found a way to smooth things over, even if there had been disagreements.
He did it that Thanksgiving, persuading everyone to go for an impromptu and freezing dip in the lake, which broke the tension and ended with everyone huddled around the fire in their PJs drinking hot chocolate.
But Tilly is no Joe and she hesitates in the doorway, unsure whether to stay or leave.
Ellen takes a deep, faltering breath. She places the frame carefully back on the nightstand and smooths down the covers, straightening the threadbare toy dog resting on the pillow.
‘I’m thinking of turning this into a craft room. I probably should have done it a long time ago, really. It’s been years since he left home but I suppose I kept it like this in case …’
‘He left me and moved back?’ Tilly says, unable to stop herself.
Ellen’s eyes flick up to Tilly’s, her mouth opening wider. Then she presses her lips together.
‘No. I wanted you both to move back.’ She hesitates, glancing sideways at Tilly. ‘Him leaving you and coming back alone was only Plan B.’
Despite it all Tilly laughs. It breaks something in the air and Ellen’s lips twitch, her eyes sparkling mischievously.
‘I made it that obvious, huh?’
‘You tried to talk us out of getting married.’
Ellen’s face cracks, pain sparking behind her eyes.
‘Tilly, that’s not –’ She takes a breath, steadying herself against the frame of the small bed.
‘I regret what I said that Thanksgiving. I was just adjusting to the thought of my son being so far away for good. Of having grandkids that I might only get to see a couple of times a year. I didn’t handle it well.
’ She reaches to briefly touch the toy dog on the pillow.
‘It all seems so ridiculous now. To think that the UK was too far away to bear … He could be anywhere in the world as long as he was OK.’
Watching Joe’s mother sat on her son’s childhood bed, Tilly’s heart breaks for her. She crosses the room, sits down beside her and wraps an arm around her shoulder. Ellen hesitates for a second, before placing a hand briefly on Tilly’s lap.
‘Thank you,’ she says in a choked voice.
Tilly gives Ellen a moment to compose herself, then says the thing she wishes she’d had time to say to Joe.
‘I would have moved with him, you know.’
Ellen’s head spins so she is facing Tilly. ‘What?’
‘I didn’t want to at first,’ Tilly continues. ‘I had my job and my life, and moving isn’t something we’d ever seriously talked about. We fought about it …’
The arguments flash through her mind, her heart constricting at the thought of every disagreement. Ellen is watching her closely, perfectly still.
‘But that was just at first,’ Tilly continues, sniffing.
‘Over time I realized how homesick he was. His desk was covered in photos of you all. Every time summer turned to autumn he’d start wearing his old varsity jacket from college.
His computer screensaver was a picture of the Connecticut trees in the fall.
And whenever we’d go to visit my family I’d see how much he ached for that himself – to have family meals with the people he grew up with.
I realized none of the other stuff mattered.
I loved him. I didn’t want him to be unhappy.
So I started looking for jobs in New York.
I didn’t tell him because I wanted to surprise him when it was all sorted. I was even offered a job.’
‘Tilly …’
Her mind floods with memories and thoughts of how differently things might have gone.
‘I was going to tell Joe about the job, but the day I got it was the day he got his cancer diagnosis.’
She pictures walking through their front door, her heart racing, a smile already creeping across her face. It had been hard to keep her interviews a secret, but it would be worth it when she saw the look on his face and he realized that she had changed her mind.
But when she stepped into the living room he was sat on the sofa, his shoulders hunched, and for the first time in forever his face didn’t light up as she entered the room.
The sparkle had gone from his eyes, their intense blue dull and lined with red.
That was when he told her he’d been feeling off for weeks but had thought it was just some sort of virus.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ she asked him.
‘I didn’t want to worry you when it was probably nothing …’
It struck her then how they’d both been keeping something from each other.
Sat in his childhood bedroom now, Tilly pictures Joe’s face when he told her that the doctor had done some tests and he’d got the results. ‘It’s something, Tils.’
She takes a deep breath, meeting Ellen’s eye again.
‘Once he got his diagnosis, we were so focused on all the doctor’s appointments that moving didn’t seem an option any more, so I didn’t say anything.
The priority was just to get him the treatment he needed.
But I can’t tell you how much I wish it could have been different.
I wish I could have brought him back here. I wish I could have told him …’
She crumples then, shoulders rounding, her face tilted down as the tears fill her eyes. There’s a sudden warmth on her skin and Ellen’s hand is covering Tilly’s own.
‘Tilly,’ she says softly. ‘There’s something you need to know.’