Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
1982
I mpossibly, the sun came up the morning after the shipwreck and bathed the hospital halls in light. Chuck sat in the waiting area with his head in his hands. It sounded as though there was a gong between his ears, ringing every few seconds. He needed to get home. He needed to go to bed. But he was also terrified of what awaited him there. Mia had locked him out. She was angry. And if she decided she no longer wanted to be with him, what would he do? He couldn’t go back to Nantucket Island. He wasn’t wanted there, either.
Would he miss Oriana and Meghan growing up?
He muttered to himself, “Why am I such a bad person?” He felt rattled and embarrassed; he felt flummoxed by life’s many bashed hopes and dreams.
Suddenly, Travis reappeared in the waiting room. Seeing him again was almost a surprise since he’d left the waiting room several hours ago and disappeared somewhere in the hospital.
“You ready to go?” Travis asked, stretching his arms over his head.
Chuck followed Travis to the truck in the lot and buckled himself into the passenger seat. Travis didn’t bother with a seat belt.
“The doctors still don’t know if she’ll be all right,” Travis muttered, his eyes glazed. “I can’t wrap my mind around that, you know? They’re medical professionals. She clearly bumped her head just a little bit. There’s hardly a mark. Why can’t they pull themselves together? Why can’t they give us answers?”
Chuck remembered the blood he had seen on Vivian’s head at the docks but remained quiet. Travis needed to believe she was going to get well soon.
“Thanks for driving me up there,” Chuck said as they neared his house.
“I appreciate you dragging me in there,” Travis said. His eyes shone.
Chuck wanted to warn him of something. But he wasn’t sure exactly why. Was he worried about Clarence? About Vivian? About Travis’s lack of direction in life?
But nothing about the past twelve hours was normal. That was clear.
“Take care,” Chuck said. He got out of the truck and walked up to the front porch.
According to Chuck’s watch, it was eight thirty in the morning, which meant that Oriana and Meghan were both in school and Mia was home, probably, or else at the store or tending to other errands. Like earlier, he tried the front door to find it locked. When he walked around the house, he discovered a full view of Mia in the kitchen window, sipping coffee and watching the water. At first, she didn’t see him. He filled his lungs with air and considered just how beautiful she was. He felt more in love with her right now than he ever had been, and he thanked his lucky stars that he’d ever met her, that they’d had daughters together, and that he’d changed his entire life for her.
But then, her eyes snapped over to him, and her face transformed into a scowl.
Chuck’s heart dropped into his stomach.
Mia stormed to the back door and began yelling at him through the glass. Chuck couldn’t make out everything she said, but he caught a few words like “liar,” “betrayal,” and “I don’t know why.”
Chuck kept his mouth shut until Mia had run herself ragged. Her face was red with rage.
Chuck raised his hands and said, “Can I come inside so we can talk?” He wanted to be reasonable. He wanted to explain.
Mia huffed angrily and pulled the door open as though she guessed she couldn’t keep him out of his house forever. She stomped back to the sink and continued to scrub a skillet, probably one she’d used to make eggs for the girls. She was such a good mother. She was always so on top of everything. Chuck was always lacking in the family department. Proof of that was the success of his business. It was like he could only have one or the other.
Chuck closed the door behind him and hovered in the living room, watching her through the kitchen doorway. He crossed his arms. “Mia, I can explain,” he said softly.
Mia cut the water and dried her hands. She refused to look at him. “Do you know how terrified I was when I figured out you weren’t in the house?”
Chuck took a deep breath. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“So you left the house? And then what? What did you do, Chuck?” She sounded so accusatory and exhausted.
Chuck’s heart slammed over and over. He wanted to tell her that he wouldn’t cheat on her, that he would never cheat on her. But he knew she wouldn’t believe him. He’d already cheated on Margaret with Mia. He’d already left Margaret for Mia. Who was to say he wouldn’t do the same thing again and leave Mia behind?
Plus, it had been extraordinarily difficult for Mia to be the other woman for so long. Yes, she’d agreed to it initially, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t run her ragged. She’d been a part-time single mother, with Chuck only picking up the slack when he was able to. But that also meant she had far more ownership over the girls, what they did and how they thought. It meant the girls were far more comfortable when their mother was around than just their father.
“I went for a walk,” Chuck said, fumbling over his words. “I went up to the lighthouse and met the lighthouse keeper. And…”
“You met the lighthouse keeper?” Mia looked aghast.
Chuck raised his eyebrows. Did she know the lighthouse keeper? Probably, he guessed. Everyone on this island knew each other. Clarence had probably been raised here, the same as Mia.
“I did,” he said. “But not long after I got there, Clarence and I saw a ship sinking, and we had to call it in. It was frantic. We ended up going out on the harbor to help—”
Mia waved her hand. “What are you talking about?” She gaped at him in disbelief.
Chuck touched the top of his head. He felt woozy as if he might collapse at any minute. And then, there was a sound at the front door. He hurried through the house to find a newspaper on the front stoop. It was right on time.
Chuck spread the newspaper across the counter and gestured at the headline: CRUISE LINER LA BOHEME SINKS OFF COAST OF MARTHA’S VINEYARD. Mia’s face transformed again.
While he had her attention, Chuck told her the story about Vivian, about how she’d almost drowned. Mia pressed her lips into a line and read more of the article, then returned her attention to the dishes. The tension in the kitchen faded.
“I can’t believe it,” Mia breathed because she’d read already that the owner of the cruise ship was missing and that, as of that morning, ten drowned victims had been pulled out of the water. It was one of the greatest tragedies in or around Martha’s Vineyard in the twentieth century. “I’m so glad you went out to look for that teenager. Who knows what would have happened?” She placed her hands on her cheeks. Chuck knew that she was thinking of their daughters. Maybe she would never let them get on another boat again.
“It made me think about how grateful I am for my life here with you,” Chuck added finally.
But Mia shot him a look that meant don’t push your luck. Don’t lay it on too thick.
“I just wish you wouldn’t sneak around at night,” she said finally, her voice like a string. “You chose us, remember? You moved in with us. Stay with us.” She cut the water in the sink and gazed at him. “Please.”
Chuck went upstairs and stood outside the doorways of Oriana’s and Meghan’s bedrooms. Their beds were made because Mia expected it every morning, but Meghan’s room was chaotic with clothes and toys. Oriana’s was clean and organized, proof of the well-trimmed nature of her mind. Mia often spoke of Oriana’s future as though it glowed with light and promise. But neither Mia nor Chuck nor the president himself could possibly say what tomorrow would bring.
Chuck had half a mind to drive to Oriana and Meghan’s elementary school and take them out for the day. He wanted to make them grilled cheese sandwiches and watch their favorite movies. He wanted to teach them about all the fish in the ocean and birds in the sky. But Mia would never allow him to take them out of school for “no reason.” I just want them to know how much I love them. I want them to know I’ll never abandon them.
Mia might say, You abandoned them weekly when they were growing up. You were always going back to Nantucket, where your “real life” was.
When Chuck had decided to come to Martha’s Vineyard for good, he’d thought Mia would forgive him and move on. He’d thought they’d build a beautiful life of forgiveness and joy.
He thought they’d leave the past behind.
But people were far more complicated than that. Mia was far more complex than that. It was part of the reason he’d fallen in love with her.
Chuck showered and considered what to do next with his day. Ordinarily, he’d already be at the office he’d recently rented in downtown Oak Bluffs. His employees were surely already in, performing the tasks he’d delegated. Maybe they were gossiping about the shipwreck over coffee and between spreadsheets, with no knowledge that their boss had been an integral part of the tragedy.
Chuck couldn’t imagine going there this morning and pretending he hadn’t just experienced one of the strangest nights of his life.
Downstairs, Mia was mopping the kitchen and listening to the radio. The radio announcer spoke about the shipwreck and that the owner of the cruise liner was the very wealthy Roger Albright, whose four children were poised to inherit hundreds of millions of dollars. Chuck whistled, but Mia didn’t look up from her task.
“Are you going to the office?” she asked.
“Yes,” Chuck lied.
“Can you get home by seven?” Mia sniffed.
Chuck tilted his head with surprise. It was rare that Mia asked anything like this of him. Was she creating “parameters” for their marriage? Was she trying to box him in?
If so, how did he feel about that?
Chuck backed out of the driveway and into a startlingly sunny day. It was hard to remember the severity of last night’s storm. Perhaps pretending his own lie to himself, Chuck drove downtown first, did a lap around the carousel near the harbor, then drove the rest of the way to the hospital. It had only been three hours since he’d been there, but it felt like another lifetime. Most of the cruise ship survivors had vacated the waiting room.
The same receptionist worked the front desk. Chuck strode up to her with a smile, and she smiled back, remembering him from earlier.
“How has it been?” he asked. “Did everyone get a place to stay?”
“The island has pulled out all the stops,” she explained in a soft voice. “They’ve opened their hotels and bed-and-breakfasts and put everyone up for a few nights. It’s sensational, isn’t it? I just love this community.”
Chuck breathed a sigh of relief, then remembered something, a question that had been on his mind since he’d read the article in the paper. “Did any of them tell you where they were headed?”
The receptionist shook her head. “The only information I got was ‘south.’ I think that billionaire wanted to flee northern winters.”
“But it must have had a final destination in mind,” Chuck said.
The receptionist raised her shoulders and answered the ringing phone.
Chuck went back upstairs to check on Natasha and Vivian. It wasn’t lost on him that “Natasha” wasn’t an incredibly French name, and he wondered if she had roots in Eastern Europe or Russia. Maybe, through her limited English, he could get a better sense of where the boat had been headed and why. Not that it mattered , he reminded himself. A tragedy happened. Specifics about the story weren’t essential. Probably, nobody would make it down south for the winter, least of all the billionaire who’d been reported as “missing.”
Chuck bowed his head. He had a hunch that Travis thought this meant “foul play.” But what it really meant, he didn’t say, was that Roger Albright had died, and they hadn’t been able to confirm it. A shiver went down his spine.
“The strangest thing is,” Travis said, “that when Natasha found out that Roger was missing, she went crazy. She was sobbing and throwing things. She looked genuinely frightened and angry.”
Alarm bells rang in Chuck’s mind. Maybe they’d been friends? Relatives?
Maybe they’d been lovers?
“Did you happen to hear where they were headed?” Chuck asked quietly.
“I heard somebody mention Puerto Rico,” Travis said. His eyes glinted conspiratorially.
Chuck crossed and uncrossed his arms. He wondered how he could get to the bottom of what had happened. But then again, why did it matter? Natasha and Vivian were safe. The boat had sunk. Chuck had a young family to take care of. He had a business to run. Why was he suddenly obsessed with this case?
Mia was right.
“I’d better head out,” Chuck said, feeling foolish. “I hope you’ll keep me in the loop about Vivian and Natasha.”
“Will do,” Travis promised.
It was clear that Travis wasn’t going anywhere for a while. He wanted to make sure Vivian was all right.
Chuck went back to the office and pretended to work until four that afternoon. During his walks through the desks of his employees, he overheard several of them talking about Roger Albright. This was how Chuck learned that Roger had made his money the same way Chuck did. He was marginally more successful than Chuck, but that meant nothing if he was dead.
Chuck suddenly felt a kinship with Roger.
He called his secretary into his office a few minutes before he left for the day. As he pulled his coat over his shoulders, he said, “Could you hire someone to gather information about Roger Albright and his business accounts?”
“Of course,” his secretary said, giving him a strange look that Chuck decided not to reprimand her on. “I’ll make a call now.”
Chuck thanked her and strode back into the fading October afternoon. It suddenly occurred to him that Mia expected him at home, that she’d asked him to be there by seven. He pictured himself, Mia, Oriana, and Meghan cozied up in front of the television, enjoying one another’s company. Perhaps Mia had already fully forgiven him for leaving the house last night. Perhaps they’d stay up later than usual, share a glass of wine, and talk in the way they once had—when they were first falling in love.
But when Chuck got home, he discovered that Mia’s plans were far different.
Mia was already dressed up when he got there. She wore a sleek black dress and a pair of earrings, and she was careful not to mess up her makeup as she tended to Oriana and Meghan and helped them with their homework. Chuck approached to kiss Mia on the cheek, but she pulled away at the last second.
“I’m heading out,” she explained to him. “Thanks for getting home early.” Her tone was formal and strange.
Chuck gaped at her as she prepared to leave. She threw on her coat and flipped her hair out, grabbed her purse and kissed their daughters goodbye.
“Where are you going?” Chuck demanded.
“I have plans,” she said. “I told you that.”
“Bye, Mom!” Oriana and Meghan called, still focused on their homework.
Chuck didn’t want to make a big scene in front of their daughters. He stood alone in the center of the kitchen, feeling like a fool.
The door slammed. Mia’s engine started. Chuck sat at the kitchen table and watched his daughters, their mouths moving as they wrote equations and spelling words.
He thought of Natasha at Vivian’s bedside.
He thought about a world he would never be able to understand.
And he wondered, Is Mia going to leave me? Has it already begun?