Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
It was two years after Katrina’s first-ever therapy session, two years after everything in Ada’s life had exploded.
Ada was forty-five years old. Eager to get the day over with, she got up early, glanced at the family calendar, and made notes to herself for the day ahead.
After that came a thirty-minute yoga workout, followed by Icelandic yogurt and strawberries.
Outside, it was a bright blue June day. Ada was grateful for the sun shining on the white sands.
Kade got up at seven thirty, stretching his seventeen-year-old limbs over his head as he prepped for running camp. He was clumsy, as though he wasn’t used to being this tall. He broke a coffee mug and cleaned it up himself. Ada didn’t have to say a thing.
Olivia came down a few minutes later, moody and fifteen years old and ready to embark for Shakespeare camp yet again. She was headed straight for a theater major—and the pain that awaited her on stage, surely. But Ada could do nothing to stop it.
Ada adored her children. She knew they’d be gone sooner than later, and that, like Hannah, they’d jet into the world and make something of themselves.
In fact, Hannah was spending the summer in the city, interning at a linguistics institution.
Ada and Peter were so proud of her that they often cried about it on the phone or over an occasional glass of wine at either of their houses.
Hannah hadn’t even had time to come home for a visit after sophomore year finals.
Ada said goodbye to her kids and headed to the office, her heart thudding with apprehension. When she arrived, she found Natalie in a state of frantic distress, her face blotchy.
“I’m sorry!” Natalie cried. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”
Ada hugged her tightly and said what she’d said over and over again the past three months. “It’s going to be okay. Your new job is going to love you. You’re the best secretary I’ve ever had. You’re going to change their lives!”
But Natalie had been brokenhearted ever since Ada had announced she was closing her therapy practice. “I still don’t understand why,” she’d asked a few weeks ago.
But Ada was done with being a therapist. Over the years, she’d realized that she had no real advice to give anyone, that she’d lost her passion. Perhaps because of this, she was causing more harm than good.
More than that, she’d realized she could make a living in the arts. Finally, she’d discovered something that filled her soul up.
That morning and afternoon, Ada met with a few patients for the very last time, then packed all her belongings into boxes and loaded them into the back of her car.
She helped Natalie bring her things to the office down the road, where Ada met all of Natalie’s new colleagues and gushed about how instrumental Natalie had been for Ada through the years.
By the time Ada and Natalie left, Natalie was glowing.
“You like it there,” Ada teased. “Admit it. You already think it’s better than my office.”
Natalie gasped. “That’s not true!”
But Ada had seen the way Natalie spoke with some of the other employees, many of whom had young children and happy husbands, as well as sailing hobbies. They’d probably celebrate holidays together. They’d probably become a close-knit family.
“I’m going to miss you, Nat,” Ada said, drawing her into a hug. She thought, You were my only family for many years. But it felt a little too sad, so she didn’t say it.
It was five thirty when Ada changed into a black dress and traipsed down the steps of the jazz club to find Marilyn in the midst of an all-out solo for nobody.
Ada smiled, watching as Marilyn’s hands whipped up and down the keys.
Passion was stitched into her face. When she finished destroying the keys, Ada clapped wildly and whistled loudly.
Marilyn turned and put her hands on her hips.
“That was for you? Just you?” Marilyn teased.
“I know! I didn’t deserve it,” Ada admitted.
Marilyn frowned and checked her phone. “You’re not singing tonight.”
“Nope.”
“But tomorrow?”
“Yep.”
Marilyn gaped at her. “Then why are you here on your night off?”
Ada laughed. “Can’t a girl come say hi to one of her dearest friends?”
Marilyn rolled her eyes. “I don’t like what this island’s done to you. You’re too soft.”
Ada explained that she was meeting a few friends at the wine bar up the road.
“Not those Salt Sisters,” Marilyn said.
“The very ones.” Ada nodded.
Marilyn grumbled and returned her attention to the keys.
She didn’t understand why anyone needed so many friends.
But now that Katrina had invited Ada to join the Salt Sisters for the better part of a year and a half, and now that Ada had ditched therapy altogether, she’d decided it was time.
She might as well meet them and see what happened.
She might as well open her heart to change.
It had only been wonderful so far.
Ada walked up the porch steps and found herself back at the wine bar, where, once upon a time, she’d seen Nick Willis drinking alone.
Her heart thudded with the memory of him.
It had been nearly two years since she’d seen him, but the letters had continued, becoming more of an art project than anything else.
She’d kept all of them, of course. She was thinking she’d eventually copy them out and email the text back to him, just in case he wanted a wonderful record of where he’d been and what he’d been thinking.
He’d been having one adventure after another.
Why did he still think of her?
When Ada mounted the steps, she found that Katrina, Hilary Salt, Tina Steiner, and Rose Carlson were already there. Seeing her, they stood and greeted her happily.
“Girls, this is Ada Wagner,” Katrina said, giving Ada a nervous smile. They’d met only a handful of times over the years, and their initial relationship, as therapist and patient, had burned away. They were two people who the same confused man had burned. It united them.
“Ada,” Hilary Salt said as she sat across from her, gripping the wine menu. “We’ve heard so much about you.”
“I’ve heard so much about all of you,” Ada said.
Bottles of wine were brought to the table, and Ada fell into the flow of the women’s conversations, her chest warming with the nourishment of how much they cared for one another.
She wondered if, sometime soon, she’d find herself sharing her innermost secrets with them.
She wondered if she’d call them when she was frightened, or excited, or confused.
After just two years with the Salt Sisters, it was as if Katrina was a sister to them, rather than just a friend. Ada had always wanted a sister.
“Ada,” Rose said, after all the Salt Sisters had gathered around the table, “we’re dying to know all about you. If you want to share.”
Ada sniffed into a nervous laugh and swirled her wine in her glass. “I always found it really difficult to talk about myself.”
The Salt Sisters laughed and exchanged knowing smiles.
“We know how that goes,” Stella said.
“We’ve all had to get used to it,” Hilary affirmed. “But once you start, it’s like a muscle.”
“You have to strengthen it,” Tina agreed.
Ada considered telling them that her heart had broken into a thousand pieces, first because of opera and second because of her husband’s affair. She’d lost herself and found herself more times than she could count and was on a journey of self-discovery.
But before she could form the words, there was a creak on the porch staircase. The Salt Sisters twitched around to find a handsome man with a healthy tan, adjusting the sleeves of his button-down and talking in a low voice to a young woman who looked to be his daughter.
It was Nick Willis.
Ada’s heart stopped.
Nick spotted her the same moment she did. He stopped talking and gazed at her, mystified. Nobody spoke, although the Salt Sisters were clearly burning with curiosity, eager to know who this man was and what was going on. Carleigh, too, looked mystified.
Before anyone could say anything, Nick pulled an envelope from his back pants’ pocket and flicked it in the air between them. Ada could see it written on the front: Ada Wagner. It was a letter he hadn’t yet sent.
But he was here! Why was he here? Was his journey over?
Rather than make a big fuss with his daughter present, Nick set the envelope down in front of Ada at the table and tipped an invisible hat to the Salt Sisters. “Evening, ladies,” he said. “I’m here with my daughter. She just turned twenty-one, if you can believe it. I’m getting old.”
The Salt Sisters called out to Carleigh, saying, “Happy birthday, honey!”
Carleigh blushed and waved and followed her dad around the corner, where, Ada guessed, they would have a small glass of wine together and talk about Carleigh’s school and Nick’s travels.
She knew from Nick’s letters that they’d spent a great deal of time together over the years, with Carleigh visiting him between school semesters, or Nick dipping into Yale to say hello.
But Nick hadn’t mentioned anything about coming to Nantucket.
Before the Salt Sisters could pester Ada about the envelope, she got to her feet and went to the wine bar bathroom. Inside the stall, she opened the letter and, heart pounding, read:
I’m writing this on the island where we met.
I’ve been drawn here because of Carleigh, who wants a beach vacation in a place we know well, a place with a few of her friends.
But I saw today that they’ve removed the sign outside your office. I googled your name and found that there’s no longer a website for your therapy practice. I’m frightened. What if I can’t find you? What if you haven’t received the last few letters?
But I know you don’t owe me anything. I’m sure you don’t think I’m real any longer. I’m just a wandering poet, flitting in and out.
Ada’s hands were shaking. Slowly, she folded up the letter and put it in her purse.
For a little while, in the muffled bathroom, she thought about the past two years of her life and how much had changed.
She thought of the meek person she’d been, and she thought of the strong, empowered singer she was now.
This was the version of herself she felt ready to show—not only to the Salt Sisters, but to men, like Nick.
Feeling bold, Ada asked for a little piece of paper from the server and scribbled on it: I’m performing at the jazz club tomorrow. Nine thirty. Come by.
She had the server discreetly deliver the note. It was the first letter she’d ever written to him.