Chapter 9
It was late afternoon, nearly evening, and orange sherbet light churned through the Nantucket Sound.
Lindsey, Candice, and Gwen were in Gwen’s office, whispering about what had happened during group therapy, as though they had to be very careful because the rest of the Harbor House women could hear them through the thick doors and walls.
Gwen looked different from Lindsey had ever seen her, sweaty and panicked.
“I knew this was part of opening a place like the Harbor House,” she said.
“I knew the women would occasionally bump up against one another, emotionally and mentally. I knew there would be arguments. How could there not be when there’s so much at stake?
But I hate that the first time Taylor came out of her room, someone lashed out at her. ”
“It couldn’t be helped,” Candice said gently. “It wasn’t anything you or anyone did wrong.”
Gwen sighed, hanging her head as she explained that Dr. Estelle had arranged for a private meeting with first Casey, then Taylor. The goal was to fix any damage before it lingered in their hearts and minds too long. “But I imagine that Taylor won’t want to be here much longer,” Gwen said sadly.
Lindsey groaned and rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m sorry, Gwen. I shouldn’t have pushed you to bring her here.”
“No. As soon as I met her, I knew she needed to be here,” Gwen said delicately. “She knows it, too. Or, she needs to be somewhere, if it’s not here. She needs help. You were right to demand we bring her.”
Lindsey scraped her fingers up her pant leg, turning to look at Candice.
She couldn’t believe how easy it had been for her sister to bare her soul earlier, how easily she’d accessed her personal stories.
Was it because Candice was a writer and therefore more attuned to what went on in her mind?
Or was it because she’d already written everything out for herself and thus gotten over it emotionally?
Lindsey had never tried to write anything that had happened to her, as she’d never wanted to see it stated so plainly.
She thought again of the box in her apartment and told herself not to cry.
Just then, as though to save her from herself, her friend Jennette texted.
JENNETTE: Drinks tonight? I got a promotion!
Lindsey spotted Candice looking at her phone as well. It was the same message. Their gazes met, and they shared a soft smile of agreement. They were heading out. Before they left, they invited Gwen, but she waved them away, saying she had too much to take care of.
“I need to find a way to keep Taylor here,” she muttered, looking down at her hands.
“It isn’t always up to you, Gwen,” Candice reminded her, her hand on the doorknob. But Gwen was no longer listening.
Candice suggested they take one car, so Lindsey got into the front seat, buckled her seat belt, and let out a yelp.
It felt as though they were escaping school early.
Candice smashed her hand on the steering wheel and said, “I still cannot believe she said that!” Obviously, she was talking about Casey during group therapy.
“I know.” Lindsey’s eyes widened. “Poor Taylor.”
“Do you think Taylor would have shared if that hadn’t happened?” Candice asked.
“Probably not. Not yet. She’s trying to warm up to the idea of the Harbor House,” Lindsey suggested. “But she’s not there yet. Maybe she’ll never be.”
Candice was quiet, speeding toward the bar where they planned to meet their friends: The Salty Pirate. “Did you consider sharing?”
Lindsey let out a surprised laugh. “Me? No. What would I say?”
Candice flashed her a look that meant: come on, stop pretending.
But Lindsey planned to continue pretending forever. “Seriously, my life is about as mundane as they come,” she said.
“My mysterious sister,” Candice said.
Candice parked, and they stepped into the chilly evening air.
Inside the bar, Jennette, Claire, Hunter, Conor, Frank, and a guy Lindsey didn’t recognize sat around a long table, drinking light beers and sharing two bowls of french fries and onion rings.
Everyone bolted to their feet to hug Candice and Lindsey hello.
Frank kissed Candice, first on the cheek and then on the lips, and then extended his hand to the man beside him, saying, “This is my friend from college, Jake.”
“Oh! Jake! Right. I’ve heard so much about you,” Candice said, extending her hand to shake Jake’s.
“Same. My guy Frank hasn’t been able to shut up about you.
” Jake smiled. He was suntanned and rugged, as though he spent most of his time hiking or sailing or gardening.
He was maybe six-two, with dark brown hair and a clean-shaven face, and he wore a flannel and jeans.
Vaguely nervous, his eyes fluttered from Candice, down the table, before they landed on Lindsey.
“And this is Candice’s little sister, Lindsey,” Frank said.
“Not so little.” Lindsey laughed.
“It’s all relative,” Jake said.
Lindsey felt a blush crawl up her cheeks.
They sat down, Lindsey across from Candice, and Candice between Frank and Jake. The server came with Lindsey and Candice’s white wines and asked how things were going at the Harbor House. “I heard a rumor about a celebrity?” she asked.
“No celebrities,” Candice said firmly. “Just women who need a place to heal.”
“I think you and your mother are doing God’s work,” the server said, hiding her disappointment with the shake of her head. “I hope you’ll let us islanders help out sometime.”
“That’s sweet,” Candice said, her voice soft. “Thank you.”
When the server left, Jennette, too, tried to get news about the celebrity from them, but neither Candice nor Lindsey would budge.
“There’s nobody you’d know up there,” Candice assured her. “Let’s talk about your promotion! Tell us everything.”
Realizing it was no use, Jennette launched into an explanation of her new responsibilities and the money she’d be making.
It was a marked difference from her previous role, and Lindsey could feel the energy and joy emanating from her friend.
Lindsey couldn’t remember ever feeling that way about something career-related, except for maybe when she’d gotten her ultimate license for scuba diving instruction.
Overjoyed for her, sure she was a genius in the making, Christopher had picked her up and swung her in a circle, and she’d felt tears come to her eyes.
“You did good, baby,” Christopher had said.
“Another round?” The server was back, smiling down at them. They were regulars, and she knew their orders without being told.
“Of course. We’re celebrating!” Claire said.
“There’s always a reason to celebrate with this crew,” the server said.
It was then that Lindsey heard Jake talking to Candice about why he was visiting. “Maybe three or four weeks, to get a handle on it,” he was saying.
“I can’t believe you get paid to do that,” Candice said.
“I get paid for the articles,” Jake explained. “But the work that goes into it far surpasses the time it takes to write the articles. It suits me. But it might not suit everyone. I’m single. I have no responsibilities. I can take all the time I need.”
“But how did you get into that line of work?” Candice asked.
Lindsey tried to imagine what Jake’s work was. He wrote about something, maybe a typically Nantucket activity. Fishing? Sailing? He didn’t look like a typical sailor, but she supposed you could write about anything if you researched it enough.
Jake explained himself. “When I was a kid, I was a pretty big nerd.” He laughed.
“I became obsessed with the birds surrounding my childhood home. I kept a record of every single one that flew past. Cardinals. Bluebirds. Finches. I took stock of what they ate, their flying patterns, and when they disappeared every year to head south. I wrote as many papers as I could about the subject, and then I actually majored in ornithology, which is the study of birds.”
“Ah, so you’re a super nerd,” Candice teased.
Jake threw his head back in laughter. “I get paid to be as nerdy as I can get.”
“That’s incredible,” Lindsey interjected before she knew fully what she was saying.
Jake blinked at her, his smile widening. Maybe he hadn’t realized she was eavesdropping. “You know, I still love it. Every day I get to wake up and go into the world and do what I really love.”
“I thought you did something outdoorsy,” Lindsey said. “I mean, I could tell.”
“Being indoors never suited me,” he said. “Even when I write the articles, I want to be outside. Here on Nantucket, I have a huge porch overlooking the water. It’s a little cold some days, but I bundle up and make a big pot of coffee and write on my computer out there. I make it work.”
Lindsey smiled. For some reason, she was thinking about her time in Costa Rica again. When nobody spoke at first, she sipped her wine and added, “I used to say I never wanted to go inside ever again.”
“When was that?” Candice asked.
Lindsey didn’t skip a beat. “In Costa Rica.”
Candice blinked at her, but Jake burst out, “Costa Rica! I have about a thousand things to say about the birds down there.”
“I imagine you do. We got plenty of bird-watchers coming through there,” Lindsey said. “I was involved with the tourism industry. I must have talked to a hundred people about resplendent quetzals and keel-billed toucans. I learned to appreciate them much more than I might have otherwise.”
Candice gave her a funny look. Lindsey wasn’t sure why she’d so easily fallen into the story of her past, especially after skirting around Candice’s questions. Maybe it was easier to translate the past to a stranger.
“You were in tourism?” Candice asked.
“Did you do tour guide stuff?” Jake asked.
“I’ve always thought about putting together a bird-watching tour.
Maybe when the journalism dries up, I’ll get into it.
People-to-people stuff is the way forward, I think.
I never know what will happen with the rise of artificial intelligence.
That, and it almost feels like all the birds have been written about already. ” He smiled.
“You’re probably right. In-person stuff is the future. I never would have thought of it that way when I was down in Costa Rica, but we weren’t so keen on technology.”
“What kind of work were you doing down there?” Jake asked.
Lindsey’s cheeks burned. “I was a scuba diving tour guide and instructor.”
Candice’s jaw dropped. “I beg your pardon?”
Beside her, Frank laughed. “Lindsey, you’re a woman of so many secrets!”
“That’s what I keep telling her,” Candice said under her breath.
“What was that?” Jennette and Claire turned, and now, all attention was on Lindsey, whose single greatest mission since she’d arrived on Nantucket was not to tell anyone anything.
Why had she given herself away like that? She felt like she was swimming in the deep, the light from above just a single dot, far, far away.
“It wasn’t a big deal. I’m not doing it anymore.” Lindsey shrugged.
“There isn’t great scuba diving around here, I guess,” Jake said.
“Good birds, though,” Lindsey said.
“Lindsey, come on,” Claire begged. “Tell us more about your adventures!”
Lindsey ached with sudden nausea. “I really don’t want to get into it.”
“Uh-oh. Are you a spy or something?” Hunter asked.
“No, Hunter. I’m not a spy. I’m nothing. I help my sister organize our mother’s library and go for long runs. That’s about it. What else do you want from me?”
There was a moment of silence. It was clear that Lindsey had made a mess.
“But you’ll tell us someday?” Jennette asked.
“There’s nothing to tell,” Lindsey said, lowering her gaze.
A moment later, the server appeared carrying platters of burgers and chicken wings, and everyone got distracted and fell into other conversations.
Ketchups were passed. Lindsey could feel her sister’s gaze on her, assessing her, until she, too, focused on her cheeseburger and boyfriend.
Candice had decided to let her off the hook for now.
“Is that something you liked?” Jake asked suddenly, yanking Lindsey’s eyes back to his. “Birding?”
“Oh! I mean, like I said, I love being outside,” Lindsey offered, clasping her hands.
“Because you could come with me. If you want,” Jake offered.
Lindsey’s cheek twitched with surprise.
“No pressure if you’re not into it,” Jake said. “But I’m heading out tomorrow morning around six or seven. Usually, I bird for about three or four hours, then have a huge breakfast. Do you like breakfast?”
Lindsey laughed. “I love breakfast.”
She thought about her original plan for tomorrow: a ten-mile run to nowhere, followed by some sad oatmeal in her kitchen. What if she went birding with this adorable stranger? What if she did something besides race herself across the sands?
Was it dangerous—to involve her heart in something like this? Then again, she saw no reason she’d fall for Jake. He was a nerdy birder. He’d leave the island in a few weeks and never come back.
“So you’ll come?” Jake’s eyes were enormous.
“I’ll go,” Lindsey said, shrugging. She avoided Candice’s burning gaze, which seemed to try to dig into her, to see what on earth her little sister was about.
Later, after Candice walked Lindsey back to her apartment, she tried again to get information out of her. “Costa Rica? Scuba diving? And now, a date with Jake?” Candice put her hands on her hips, and her eyes were illuminated with the moonlight.
“None of it’s a big deal,” Lindsey said, reaching to hug her sister good night. “I’ll see you tomorrow, all right? Promise you’ll keep working on your book?”
Candice laughed. “You’re an expert at hiding your secrets, Sis. You’re Mom’s daughter, all right.” But with that, she let Lindsey go, turned on her heel, and walked back to her car.