Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
It wasn’t till Tuesday that Peter came home from Manhattan.
When he did, he brought gifts: a pearl necklace for Ada, expensive designer sneakers for Kade, diamond earrings for Olivia, and a bracelet for Hannah.
Everyone was already home from school when he came in, which meant Ada couldn’t corner him and ask any questions about his trip until later.
At dinner that night, he sat and used his booming voice to talk about the city, the restaurants and cocktail bars where he and Max had gone, the baseball game they’d attended, and why he thought Manhattan was the best place in the world, except for Nantucket, of course.
The kids were captivated with him, as always. They thought he was a superhero.
For some reason, Ada couldn’t help but think it felt like a performance. But maybe the best thing about Peter was that he could hold a crowd and tell a story. It had always worked on Ada.
“But how is Max doing?” Hannah asked, narrowing her eyes. She knew that Max was going through a divorce, presumably because her father had mentioned it to her on the phone. She wanted the real drama to unfurl.
“He’ll be fine,” Peter said. “Even during their wedding, your mom and I were never sure if that marriage was right for him. Sometimes two people get together and do everything you’re meant to do to create a life, and it still isn’t right.” His eyes flickered, and he took a drink of water.
“Did you see her at all?” Ada asked, surprising herself with how shivery her voice sounded. Although she’d never really gotten along with her, she hoped Abby was all right.
“No. She’s staying with her mother till she finds another place,” Peter said.
“But what did his wife do wrong?” Hannah asked, her voice filled with a sense of urgency.
“I don’t think they loved each other enough, is all,” Peter said. “There’s nobody to blame when that happens. You have to dust yourself off and move on.”
Hannah leaned back in her chair, her chicken forgotten, her arms crossed.
Kade and Olivia looked vaguely bored, like they couldn’t wait to be excused so they could play video games.
Romantic relationships were not yet at the forefront of their minds.
There was a gentle May rain coming down the panes, keeping everyone inside for the night. It gave the ocean a purple tint.
Peter switched the subject easily, asking Hannah how her tennis matches had gone.
Hannah regaled him with the drama of her best points and left out her mistakes, which allowed Peter to love her fully and without obstacles.
Ada knew that if Peter had seen some of the times Hannah had hit the ball into the net, or served badly, Peter would have grumbled, saying, Come on, Hannah, you’re better than that.
It was because he loved her that he wanted her to be the best.
After the kids disappeared upstairs for video games or music or brooding, Ada piled the plates in the dishwasher, cleaned the kitchen, and collapsed on the sofa next to Peter, who was watching a documentary about baseball. She reached for his hand and kissed it.
“I missed you,” she said.
Peter smiled dreamily and bent down to kiss her on the lips.
“Was it hard?” she asked. “Talking Max down?”
“It was okay,” Peter said. “It was good to see him. Good to pretend that we were a lot younger, talking about girl problems.”
Ada giggled. “The tennis players were doing that in the hot tub on Saturday. Talking about boys and breakups. I wanted to stay and eavesdrop, but I forced myself inside.”
Peter was quiet for a moment, his eyes reflecting the light of the television. “You know, I think we should take the kids on an excursion on Saturday. Something just the five of us. I mean, when was the last time we all hung out as a family?”
“No Kathy?” Ada joked.
Peter threw his head back. “Unless you insist on bringing your mother, I’d prefer not.”
“No! She drove me a little crazy this weekend,” Ada said, which was mostly a lie, but sounded true enough. “What kind of excursion?”
“Maybe sailing? Shopping? The kids probably need clothes for summer, right?”
“They always need new clothes for summer. Kade and Olivia are growing like bean stalks, and Hannah, well. She’ll need tons of new stuff for college.
” Ada sat up, tucked herself under the blanket, and rolled over to wrap her husband in her arms. She felt the beating of his heart.
She couldn’t believe she’d felt so nervous over the weekend, like something was wrong between them.
What could possibly be wrong between Ada and Peter, a romance written in the stars?
“Do you think I need friends?” Ada asked Peter then.
Peter barked with laughter. “You have friends!”
“Not in Nantucket,” Ada admitted, wrinkling her nose. “Mom said I need to work harder at building a social life.”
“Kathy loves to tell people what to do,” Peter said.
“But you’ve always marched to the beat of your own drum.
And it’s not like you want friends like the ones you had in Manhattan again, right?
Quinn and Jacques and all the rest? They’re outrageous.
It was awful to see them all again. Don’t you think? ”
Ada blinked at him, taken aback.
Peter tried to reel it in a little. “I mean, they’re great. Don’t get me wrong. However, they go on and on, being so selfish. They’re nothing like you.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” Ada pulled away and drew the blanket up to her chin.
“Hey,” Peter said. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” Ada asked. But her pulse was fast, and her hands were clammy.
The rest of the week carried on as usual, but it brought with it warmer weather and bright blue skies.
Hannah was struggling through her senior finals, which took place a full week before the other kids had theirs.
But because she’d already gotten into Vassar and was already bound to graduate, it wasn’t like Hannah was working that hard.
Hannah was now in the habit of driving Olivia and Kade to school in the secondhand car they’d gotten her for her seventeenth birthday, which was something Ada was grateful for.
Before they left that Thursday morning, she hugged them all goodbye and ordered them to be safe.
After that, she hurried to get herself ready and took off for the office. Katrina was up first.
Katrina sat before Ada, fresh-faced and confident.
Her dress looked sleek and brand new, as if she had just had a facial or gotten a suntan.
Ada couldn’t pin it down. She adjusted her notepad on her lap and raised her chin to say, “Katrina, how are you? Natalie said you had to reschedule the other day.”
Katrina blushed and toyed with the hem of her dress. “I was sick, yes,” she said. “Thanks for accommodating me.”
“No problem. We all get sick.” Ada scrutinized Katrina’s face, marveling at how different the woman looked from the last time she’d seen her. Something had happened. “How have things been since the last time I saw you? Did you meet up with the Salt Sisters?”
“I did. They’re wonderful,” Katrina said.
“Hilary Salt held a big dinner at her place so I could meet all the girls. They’ve all been through horrible things, Dr. Wagner.
They’ve lost their husbands, they’ve lost children, and they’ve lost themselves.
We talked for nearly six hours, going through the events of our lives.
I realized how alone I’ve felt without women like that around.
” She hesitated, then smiled. “Of course, I’m not ready to give up on therapy yet. ”
“No. It’s an entirely different process,” Ada agreed. “But having people to talk to, an inner circle? It’s so important.” I’m a hypocrite, she thought.
“They’ve had husbands who’ve wronged them,” Katrina said.
“Some of them didn’t find out about it till after their husbands were dead, like me.
It’s a very particular feeling, one that I can’t articulate very well.
I’m guilty for not missing him enough, but at the same time, I don’t think he deserves it.
” Katrina was thoughtful, furrowing her brow.
“You’ve found a language of grief,” Ada said quietly.
“Something like that,” Katrina agreed, snapping her fingers.
For a moment, Ada thought that Katrina was going to go on and explain herself. Instead, she was quiet, a smile playing over her face, as though she were keeping a secret from Ada. But there was no use keeping a secret from a therapist. You either went to therapy, or you didn’t.
“What is it?” Ada said. “You seem…” She wanted to use the word “smitten” but thought it was too invasive.
“It’s the guy,” Katrina said, rolling her eyes at herself. “I’m sorry. I can’t get him out of my head.”
“Last time, you said you weren’t sure if you could trust him,” Ada reminded her. “What changed?”
“Everything changed,” Katrina said. “He really showed me that he wants to build something with me. We spent days together, talking and sharing our deepest secrets. You know, I think I learned more about him than I’ve ever learned about anyone. Even my ex-husband.”
“What did you learn? What appeals to you about him?” Ada asked.
“Well, he was married before,” Katrina said.
“He said that his ex-wife was sort of lost. Like, he described it as, ‘she lost her identity along the way.’ It rang a bell for me. I’m guessing that my ex-husband felt the same way about me.
Something about that made me forgive my ex a little bit.
It isn’t attractive to be with someone who doesn’t know themselves. ”
“Don’t you think that crises of identity happen to everyone?” Ada asked. “Marriage should have more patience than that, don’t you think?”
Katrina gave her a look of surprise that soon morphed into anger.
What was Ada saying? She wasn’t here to play the morality police.
“Did your boyfriend say that’s why he and his ex broke up?” Ada asked, reeling herself in.
“He said it was complicated, and we left it at that, for now,” Katrina said. “There are kids, which I’m totally fine with.”
“Did you ever want children?”
Katrina’s cheek twitched, as though a memory had passed through her. “My husband and I talked about it. We tried for a little while, but it became too stressful. Sometimes I wonder if that’s why he cheated on me. Maybe he’d decided that he wanted to try the family thing with someone younger.”
“That’s tough,” Ada said. “But how do you feel about children? If it were only up to you?”
“Well, I’m obviously a little too old, but I think they’re wonderful,” Katrina said.
“I’m sure they are. Actually, I think I saw one from a distance.
I was meeting up with him after he’d said goodbye to his daughter.
It made me wonder about what it would be like to be raised by such a strong and wonderful man.
My father died when I was young, and I think when I met my husband, I was looking for someone strong, a protector. Is that terrible to say?”
Ada’s heart opened. Now, we’re getting somewhere, she thought, grateful that Katrina was finally telling her things about her deep and painful past. It meant they were building trust.
“The other day, we were driving around,” Katrina said, “and I had all this island wind in my hair, and my stomach was full of seafood, and he looked at me and said, ‘You make me all starry-eyed.’ I laughed because it sounded silly. But then I thought, when has a strong, masculine man ever said anything like that to me? And I decided to embrace it.”
Ada smiled and tapped the tip of her pen against her notepad. “It’s wonderful, Katrina. You deserve it.”