Chapter 2
“Mom! Dylan won’t give me the remote!”
Sara Ellis had her hands in a bowl of ground beef, making meatballs for supper, when the latest fight started. She hollered at her sons for them to figure it out and finished what she was doing. Once the meatballs were baking in the oven, she washed her hands and headed into the living room to play referee.
Cody, her oldest, at twelve, was sitting in her husband’s favorite chair, while Dylan, her ten-year-old, was sprawled on the leather sofa. Both of them were quiet now, watching Stranger Things on Netflix, which they both liked. Her younger two—Brad, who was eight, and Sam, the baby at six, were in the den playing a video game. The house was relatively calm for the moment.
She went back to the kitchen and started the spaghetti sauce, sautéing garlic and onions in a big pot, then added a can of crushed tomatoes, spices, and a splash of wine. When everything was just about ready, she poured a glass of wine, sat at the kitchen table, and opened her laptop, jumping online for a few minutes until her husband, Tom, got home.
Now that the kids were all in school full-time, Sara had been keeping her eye out for a part-time job. Before the kids came, she’d been a librarian and had loved it. But she’d been out of the workforce for so long that she didn’t know anyone anymore at the local library. And she hadn’t seen any openings posted online. She looked regularly and had even stopped in a few times over the past year to ask if they might know of anything coming up. But it seemed like no one ever left.
A quick search of the local job listings didn’t turn up anything new. Tom had a good job, as a VP for a software company, so she didn’t need to get just any job. She could hold out to make sure it was something interesting. Ideally she wanted something book or publishing related, but the local magazines and newspapers seemed to be cutting back instead of hiring. Sara couldn’t help but worry that maybe she’d missed her window where she could easily get a similar job again. What if no one would hire her now? The thought made her anxious. She needed to find something soon.
Tom came through the door a moment later. Sara kissed him hello and went in the kitchen to bring the food to the table. Twenty minutes later, her hungry men had inhaled their dinner and resumed their positions in front of the TV. She didn’t allow video games in the evening, so they were all in the living room, including Tom. By the time Sara cleaned up in the kitchen and joined them, Tom’s eyes already looked heavy and she knew he’d be fast asleep on the sofa by seven.
Before he drifted off, she asked him if he wanted to go to dinner with friends Friday night.
“Courtney and Kevin invited us to meet them for dinner at the Squire. There’s a band playing there that he likes. It could be fun.”
Tom nodded. “Sure, if we can get a sitter?”
“I don’t need a sitter,” Cody said. He had a point. Sara had been babysitting at eleven. But boys were not as mature at that age and she didn’t feel comfortable leaving him to watch the others. Not yet.
“Actually, that might not work out,” Tom said. “I have to go into the office on Saturday. And I’ll probably be working late on Friday to get ready for this presentation. It’s a big one.”
Sara sighed. She’d been so looking forward to going out for an evening and catching up with friends. She hadn’t gone out in ages.
“You could still go,” Tom offered. “I can bring my work home and lock myself in the den.”
It wasn’t exactly what she’d had in mind. She’d wanted a date night. But maybe she would go anyway.
Maddie sat in her office, gazing out the window and watching the white-tipped waves crash against the shore as she took a call from one of her favorite editors.
“Do we have a chance of getting her? I don’t want to jump through the approvals hoops and get everyone excited if she already knows she wants a different house,” Alissa asked anxiously. She’d been a bridesmaid on the last three auctions that Maddie had set up for her authors.
“I can’t promise anything. But you have as good a shot as anyone else. This is all new to her and she doesn’t have any favorites. If you are up for a Zoom call, I think that could help.” The video calls gave each house a chance to get to know the author and to share their excitement and hopes for the book. Usually several people from each publishing house would attend the call, an editor or two and often someone from marketing.
“Perfect. Let’s do it. Thanks for your help.” Alissa hung up and Maddie turned her attention back to her inbox, which was overflowing, as usual. She’d just opened her next message when her phone rang again. This time it was the main number of the literary agency in Manhattan where she worked.
“This is Madeline Sharp.”
“Do you have a minute to chat, Maddie?” It was Kathryn, the head of the agency and Maddie’s direct supervisor.
“I do. I just hung up with Alissa. Her imprint wants to offer on Shelley’s book. We’re going to set up a Zoom call.”
“Oh, that’s great. Are any others interested, do you think?”
“At least two more, possibly three. They were all excited to read it.”
“It’s a good book. I’m not surprised. And you did an excellent job creating anticipation for it.”
“Thank you.” Maddie had signed the author eight months ago and had been blown away by her manuscript, which was an edgy psychological thriller. She hadn’t been able to put it down and got that sense as she read that others would feel the same way. Maddie had always been a big reader and had an instinct for what might go over in the market.
She’d started with the agency as an intern, the summer before she graduated. And she’d loved it from the moment she stepped through the doors over twenty years ago. Kathryn, the agency founder, was in her early seventies now. The agency was smaller then, just a few other agents, all women. Now the team was close to thirty people, half agents and half support staff and foreign rights specialists.
Maddie took to agenting immediately. She’d always had a knack for sales. Growing up in Chatham, she’d spent most of her summers working in the service industry and honed her people skills. As a waitress, she learned to deal with difficult personalities and she also learned that the more she hustled, the faster she turned her tables, and the more money she made.
That drive, combined with her love for books and ability to sense when something could be a commercial hit, had served her well. Over the years, her client roster grew from referrals of other happy authors and she was second only to Kathryn in total billing. Which meant that when Maddie wanted to spend more time in Chatham working remotely, she was allowed to do it and her sales continued to grow.
“How is Hannah doing with her book? Is she on track for her new deadline?” Kathryn asked.
Maddie took a deep breath. She’d only just hung up with Hannah and Maddie was concerned. She hoped that coming home to Chatham for the summer would help her niece to focus.
“Hannah’s great. I’m going to be seeing her soon. She’s going to spend the summer in Chatham. She is looking forward to writing by the beach.”
“Hmm. Everything is okay with her? We can’t push this deadline out again. That could slow her momentum. And her sales are increasing. There’s a lot of buzz around her book. We need to bottle that and keep it going.”
“She’s struggling a little,” Maddie admitted. “But I think she’ll figure it out and finish on time,” she assured her. “I’ll keep you posted if there are any issues.”
“Good! And we’ll see you next week, then? We’ll have to do dinner one night. There’s a restaurant in the West Village I haven’t been to yet, and their twenty-layer lasagna is apparently to die for.” Maddie smiled. Kathryn was a foodie, too, and they always tried to go out to dinner at least once whenever Maddie was in Manhattan.
“That sounds great. I’m in.”
Maddie ended the call and made a list for shopping later that day. She wanted to pick up some of Hannah’s favorite foods, to help her settle in. And she would introduce her to her neighbors, Joy and Ben. They were a lovely older couple, and since Maddie would be heading to Manhattan for a week soon after Hannah arrived, she felt better knowing her niece could knock on their door.
With the decision made to head to Chatham, Hannah felt lighter the following week. She still wasn’t able to write much and felt anxious about it, but there were no additional panic attacks. She kept the bottle of Ativan in her purse, just in case she felt one coming on. She looked forward to going home to Chatham and just sitting in the sun, listening to the waves. The beach had always been her happy place. Something about the smell of the air and the breeze against her skin was so soothing. Hannah couldn’t explain it, but she felt certain that going home might help her to get unstuck. She was in such a better mood that she let Lucy talk her into going to a party with her.
The party was Saturday night at the apartment of one of Lucy’s coworkers and was right around the corner from where Hannah lived.
“If you’re having a miserable time, you can just run home,” Lucy said. It was impossible to argue with that. And Hannah was feeling a little stir-crazy and eager to get out. She was, however, a bit worried about running into Jeremy, her ex as of about two weeks ago. She’d met Jeremy through Lucy as they all had worked at the same marketing agency. Lucy handled event marketing while Jeremy worked in accounting.
“I don’t think he’ll be there. I thought I overheard him say he was heading out of town,” Lucy had assured her.
So, it was fun to get dressed up and wear a new outfit. Especially when there was no pressure to try to meet anyone. Hannah wanted to visit with friends, have some wine, and maybe eat something delicious. Lucy was a foodie and most of her friends seemed to be, too.
The host of this gathering was one of the directors at Lucy’s company. She lived in a huge apartment and had the food catered. There were all kinds of appetizers—cheeses, kabobs, sliders, dips. Hannah enjoyed a little of everything and sipped a very good glass of cabernet.
She was having a great time, until she heard a familiar voice.
“Hannah. I didn’t expect to see you here.” Jeremy, of course.
Lucy looked horrified. “I thought I heard you say you were heading out of town?”
“I was. But my plans changed. Hannah, can we talk for a minute?”
Lucy shot her an I’m sorry look and backed away.
“Sure.”
Jeremy led her to a quiet area away from the crowd. Hannah cupped her glass of wine and took a sip.
“So, how’ve you been?” he asked. It had been two weeks since the breakup.
“I’m okay. I’m actually heading home next week. I’m going to spend a few months at my aunt’s place on the Cape. I need to focus and get this book done, and as you know, I’ve been struggling with that.”
He looked sympathetic. “With your mom and all, I know it’s been hard. I just wondered how you were doing and if you’ve thought about us at all. You said you needed some time to figure out what you wanted. So I’m wondering if maybe you wanted to give it another shot? I’ve missed you.”
Jeremy looked so sincere that it made Hannah feel like a terrible person. She wanted to like him more than she did. She’d tried, but after almost two years, she just couldn’t see herself taking the next step and getting married. She knew she probably should have ended it long ago. But she liked Jeremy and thought maybe her feelings would grow. She just didn’t love him enough to marry him and didn’t see that changing.
“I’ve missed you, too,” she said truthfully. But she’d also liked having some space and alone time. She’d wondered more than once if she was being too picky. Maybe missing someone that you liked meant you should be with them. In a weak moment, a week after the breakup, she’d run the idea by Lucy, who’d looked like she wanted to shake her.
“If you stay with Jeremy, you’ll miss out on the kind of love that you dream about. Has Jeremy ever made your toes curl? Do you eagerly anticipate seeing him and hate to be apart?”
“Hmm. Not exactly. You may have a point.”
Hannah tried to gather her thoughts to tell Jeremy that she didn’t want to give it another shot. Before she could speak, he tried again.
“We could go to dinner tomorrow night. There’s a new place that just opened that we could try.”
Hannah shook her head, sadly. “I’m sorry, Jeremy. I think I really need to be by myself for a while. I need to focus on getting over my mother’s passing and give all my energy to this new book. I think we should probably both try to move on.”
Jeremy nodded sadly. “Okay. If anything changes, let me know.” He turned and left and Hannah went in the opposite direction.
She found Lucy by the charcuterie board debating between salami and ham. “Go for the salami, it was good. Peppery.”
“Thanks. How did it go with Jeremy?” Lucy asked.
Hannah sighed. “He wants to get back together. I told him we should both move on. Now I feel mean and think I should probably go. He’s a nice guy. Am I making a big mistake?”
“Come with me.” Lucy led her to the kitchen and topped off her wineglass before leading her onto an outside balcony. It was a warm night and there was a soft breeze that felt soothing as it brushed across Hannah’s face.
“Do you regret breaking up with him?” Lucy asked.
“Not until I saw him,” Hannah admitted.
“And when you ended things you felt more relieved than sad?”
“Yes. So, you’re saying I made the right decision. I think I know that. But then seeing him. Jeremy is a nice guy. What if I never meet anyone better than him?” She paused for a moment, her thoughts swirling. “I could get married to Jeremy. He told me a month ago that he wanted to ask me, but wanted to make sure we were on the same page.” And she’d instantly realized she had to break up with him, for his sake as well as hers.
“Clearly you’re not. I think you will meet someone that you will fall madly in love with. And if you don’t… well, at least you gave it your best shot. That’s better than staying with someone just because you’re afraid you’ll never find that kind of love.”
“You’re right. I know you’re right. Honestly, the last thing I feel like even thinking about right now is meeting someone anyway. I just want to feel better, not have any more panic attacks, and have my book start talking to me again.”
Lucy laughed. “Is that how it is? You wait for your book to tell you what happens next?”
“Sort of. When I’m in the zone it’s like everything falls away and I’m in the story and I see and feel what the characters do, and it just comes to me. Lately, nothing has been coming.”
“Because you’re so stressed?”
Hannah took a sip of her wine. “Yes. It is a creativity killer. But I have a feeling once I’m at my aunt’s place I’ll start to feel better and the words will come again.”
“It won’t be too sad for you, being in Chatham?”
“It would be if I stayed at my mother’s house. And I’m sure when I go to the places she used to go, in town, it will hit me. But my aunt’s home is so beautiful. It’s right on the water and she and my uncle never had kids, so it’s just a big, quiet house.”
“That sounds perfect,” Lucy said.
“Once I get caught up, you’ll have to come and visit. I’d love to show you around.” They’d been talking about doing that for years but one summer passed after another and they were always so busy that it had never happened.
“I’d really like that. I can take a week or so off later this summer. If things are going well for you then, we can make a plan.”