by Nancy Thayer
—
In her bedroom, as she slid out of her high heels and silk dress, her mind spun like a roulette wheel, binary, black or red, two different worlds. New York, Sally and Juan, her new book, Gray. Nantucket, Sebastian and Isabelle, Mr. Maxwell, her mother. She was unsettled and confused. What Gray had said about the Maxwell family and her obsession with them was perceptive and true. Wasn’t it? But her love for Sebastian was separate from her infatuation with the Maxwell family. Wasn’t it?
She had admired Gray tonight. He was unexpectedly cool, not at all unsettled to hear her say she loved Sebastian. Why didn’t he say goodbye and fly back to the city?
Why was she thinking about Gray at all?
She needed to drink lots of water and take a good long sleep.
“So,” Keely said, returning to the living room and plopping down on the sofa with her legs stretched out on a pillow. “Tonight was fabulous. An open bar, scallops wrapped in bacon, caviar, boned chicken drumsticks in honey and—”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Keely. I don’t want to hear about the menu. At least not yet. Who else was there and what were they wearing? How did you get on with Gray? Did you have a good time?”
Eloise had actually clicked off the television, giving Keely her full attention.
“I had a nice time with Gray. He is a true old-fashioned gentleman. And he’s going to take you and me to dinner tomorrow night at Topper’s.”
“Really? That’s extravagant.” For a moment, Eloise seemed to shrivel up again, back into her depression. “Are you sure you want me to go? I don’t know what I’ll wear and I certainly don’t know what I’ll have to contribute to the conversation.”
“Oh, get over yourself, Mom! We’re hardly going to discuss the latest UN resolution. Gray is a very nice person. He’s a doctor. He’ll have a lot in common with you. I promise, you’ll like him and he’ll like you.” Keely stood up. “I’m going to bed now. I’ve got to write tomorrow.”
* * *
—
All that day, Keely stayed in her bedroom, in her T-shirt and boxer shorts, writing and tossing back cup after cup of coffee. She was wound tight, and once she got started, her focus was entirely on her new book. She reread and rewrote the first three chapters, wanting them to be perfect, knowing they couldn’t be perfect until the entire book was finished.
It was a relief when evening came and she could shower and dress and coax her mother into preparing for their dinner out. Sebastian phoned once, to say that the hospital was keeping their father for another night, but not to worry, and that he was staying with his mother while Isabelle flew home to her own family.
Eloise allowed Keely to put a slight bit of makeup on her face. Lipstick, light eyeliner, blush. The style the hairdresser had given Eloise was becoming, slightly longer and bouncier than when she was working. Keely’s mother seemed pleasantly surprised.
Gray arrived, completely swoon-worthy in his navy blazer and white ducks. As he helped the women into the car, Eloise quickly mouthed “wow” to Keely.
The chat was light and easy on the drive out. When they were seated at a table at Topper’s with drinks and orders taken, Gray said to Eloise, “Keely tells me you’re a nurse at the local hospital.”
Eloise looked down. “Well, I was. I’ve retired now.”
“Did you happen to know David Vanbrack?”
Eloise lit up. “Of course I did. He was our only surgeon here for about thirty years. How did you know him?”
“He was a guest lecturer in med school one year. He was a great advocate for pediatric surgical instruments. He used to make rough sketches of the Ballenger sponge forceps and the Metzenbaum dissecting scissors, before they were actually designed and utilized. He would get so worked up talking about them that he’d storm out of the lecture hall down to his office and phone one of the many hospital directors he tormented in those days.”
“Yes, he was an emotional man,” Eloise agreed, nodding. “I worked with him often on difficult births. He really hated C-sections. He had all the latest statistics on the tip of his tongue. Too many unnecessary C-sections were given in the United States. He would roar that while he was getting ready to help a child being born with forceps. He had the most remarkable forearms.”
“I remember that. Large. Sturdy.”
“Like Popeye.” Eloise laughed.
Keely watched, amused and delighted, as her mother blossomed in the light of Gray’s attention. Clearly Gray was charming her mother, and Keely felt her heart softening toward him. Gray was nicer than he seemed in New York. Maybe that was Nantucket magic at work.
Gray said, “In his last years, he was obese. But many of us who work at the hospital eat for comfort.”
“Especially in a small, isolated hospital like ours,” Eloise agreed. “In the winter, the harbor often freezes over, or we have gale force storms that prevent the freight boat from coming, so fresh vegetables and fruits become rare or nonexistent. We have such long dark winters here, it’s easy to seek pleasure by baking dozens of chocolate chip cookies and eating them while reading by the fire.”
“Well, Eloise, you clearly have found a way to stay in shape,” Gray said. “Excuse me for being too personal, but I can tell from whom Keely gets her good looks.”
“Hey, are you hitting on my mother?” Keely asked playfully.
Her mother blushed, and with diplomatic skill Keely didn’t know she possessed, Eloise said, “So, Gray, tell me about your parents.”
Keely leaned back in her chair, letting the conversation between her mother and Gray flow past her like a spring breeze. Here, tonight, she was witnessing sides of both Gray and her mother that she’d never seen before. Was everyone this way, a kind of benign Jekyll and Hyde? Was she?
“Keely? Earth to Keely,” her mother said.
“Sorry,” Keely said. “I was lost in thought.”
“About your next book?” Gray asked.
“No. No, to be honest, I was wondering if we, especially Gray, you and I, are composed of two different people, and the city brings out one part and the island brings out the other.”
“Go on,” Gray urged.
“Well…you seem different here. Less formal, easier to talk with.”
Gray nodded. “I see what you mean. You’re different here, too, Keely. And maybe it is the difference in location. Maybe it is that here we feel on vacation, less pressured, but in the city we’re on red alert all the time. And maybe,” he added, smiling at Eloise, “it also has to do with our companions. Eloise is especially easy to talk with, not simply because she knows about the medical field. She’s like chocolate, tranquilizing and stimulating at the same time.”
“Goodness!” Eloise laughed, blushing. “I’ve never been compared to chocolate before!”
It was almost midnight when they gathered themselves and left the restaurant for the winding drive back to Eloise’s house. Gray walked both women to the door and told Keely he’d phone her tomorrow.
“Are you leaving tomorrow?” Keely asked.
His face was partly in shadow, and his tone was gentle but also distant. “We’ll see.”
Gray leaned over to kiss Keely’s cheek, and then, to Keely’s surprise, and to Eloise’s, he kissed Keely’s mother’s cheek.
* * *
—
“My goodness!” Eloise said when the two women were alone in the house. “He’s wonderful, Keely! He’s so intelligent and charming and handsome!”
“Mom, I think you’re in love,” Keely teased.
Eloise burst into embarrassed laughter. “Don’t worry, darling. I won’t try to steal him from you.” In the kitchen, she ran cold water into a glass and drank it straight down. Turning, she put her hands on Keely’s shoulders. “My sweet girl, thank you for tonight. I don’t know when I’ve had so much fun.” She hugged Keely. “I only hope I don’t have a han
gover tomorrow.”
“I don’t think it’s the wine that made you high,” Keely said.
Eloise smiled with a twinkle in her eyes. “I don’t, either.”
As Keely went through her evening routine, she realized she wasn’t tired. She felt like a child after a birthday party, all wound up and clueless about how to calm down. She knew what she wanted to do, and after tossing and turning in bed, she allowed herself to do it. She called Gray.
“Are you still awake?” she asked.
He laughed. “Are you?”
“Thank you for such a brilliant evening. You made my mother very happy.”
“You seemed happy, too,” Gray said.
“I am. I was.” Keely hesitated. “Listen, I don’t want to make any rash decisions tonight, but could you come over here for dinner tomorrow evening?”
“I wish I could. I’m flying back to New York tomorrow afternoon.”
“Oh.” Keely was surprised at her disappointment. “I thought you were going to be here for three days.”
“Yes, so did I. But things change.”
“Gray—”
“Besides, I’ve been called in to consult about a new patient. It’s urgent. I need to be there.”
“I see. Yes, of course. Maybe some other time.”
“Maybe.”
“Gray, I’m sorry—”
“We had a great evening together, Keely. I thank you for that. I’m off to bed. Good night, Keely.”
“Good night, Gray.”
Keely turned on the small fan on her dresser to allow the white noise of the spinning blades to lull her to sleep. She snuggled down in bed and closed her eyes. But it was a long time before she slept.
* * *
—
She woke with the morning sun beaming into her room. The rest of the house was quiet. So her mother wasn’t up yet, and it was after eight. Keely realized that she was unconsciously hoping that the dinner last night had changed her mother, at least a little. Eloise had been so happy and talkative. Clearly she had enjoyed herself. Keely prayed Eloise wasn’t retreating back into her solitary state.
Maybe her mother was simply sleeping late.
She brought her laptop out to the patio and began to work. First, she answered emails and checked on Instagram posts, but before long, as it often happened, scenes and dialog for her new book began to intrude into her mind. She opened the document file and wrote.
* * *
—
At some point in the morning, Eloise rose, poured a cup of coffee, and settled into her chair facing the television. Around noon, Sebastian phoned.
“I can’t talk long. I just wanted to touch base. I’ll be up here another day.”
“How’s your father?”
“The doctors say he’s recovering, but it’s not that obvious to us,” Sebastian said. “Poor Mom is beside herself. He needs physical and speech rehabilitation, but when we talk about taking him to the facility on the Cape, he roars and pounds his bed. He wants to go home.”
“I can understand that.”
“Yes, but it makes it harder for the rest of us. Well, for Mom. She’s overwhelmed. I’m afraid she’s going to have a stroke or a heart attack. Dad is a frightening sight. His right side isn’t working well, and the right side of his face sags.”
“Your poor father.”
“I know, but he’s not in pain. He’s going to recover. It will take time, and it will take a lot of work, but he can do it. Every stroke is different, they said, and we don’t know how well he’s comprehending what’s going on, or the future, or even the present.” Sebastian’s voice hitched. “We’ve been told to be gentle with him. Not to rush him. So we’re trying our best, but it’s as if an alien has taken over our father. You know what he was like. So strong, so powerful. Suddenly, he’s a little old man.”
“Oh, Sebastian. I’m sorry.”
“It’s going to change everything, Keely. Everything for him. Everything for us.”
* * *
—
Later, Keely wished she’d asked exactly who was included in that “us,” but in the moment she sensed that Sebastian was focused entirely on his father. Their own relationship was on hold; that was obvious. It wasn’t what Keely had dreamed of happening, but then it surely wasn’t what Al Maxwell had reckoned for.
Did Keely think for even one brief moment that Karma had given Al Maxwell what he deserved for the way he had treated Keely so long ago? She allowed herself to consider that thought. It was shabby of her to think that way. Quickly, she let the thought dissolve, disappear. She was truly sorry for Mr. Maxwell. She wished him well.
Which was a good thing, since she wanted to marry his son.
For the rest of the week, Keely kept to a strict writing routine. An odd sort of dynamism operated inside her, so that she could use the pressures of the real world to fuel her fiction writing. By the end of the week, she sent three chapters to Sally and to Juan. She was anxious about what Sally would say. Would this be the book that Juan hoped for?
Her mother continued to come out of her shell. She had lunch with friends. She volunteered at the Seconds Shop. She tried on the new clothes Keely had ordered and was quite pleased with how she looked. She was happier, and Keely went with her to a movie, and a lecture at the library, and out to the Seagrille again.
It was working, Keely thought. Keely’s presence on the island was cheering her mother, reviving her. She hoped the same was happening for her manuscript.
* * *
—
By Saturday, Mr. Maxwell had been moved from the hospital back to his house, where he insisted, in his own loud but clear way, he wanted to be.
When Sebastian called, he was distracted, clearly stressed out.
“Dad’s home, but they’ve put a bed in the dining room and moved all the dining room furniture into the den until we can have it stored. He has a portable toilet next to his bed! A portable toilet in the dining room! Poor Mom is nearly insane. We’re supposed to spend as much time with him as possible, helping him to speak clearly or remember stuff, and I’m doing that, but I can’t tell if it’s helping him or not.”
“What can I do?” Keely asked.
“Come to my house tonight.”
Keely smiled. “Do you want me to bring some dinner?”
“Sure. Anything. I just want to see you. Well, I don’t want to just see you—”
“I know what you want.” Keely laughed.
During the day, she barbequed spare ribs, coating them heavily in her special sauce. She took over some cold Whale’s Tale Pale Ale and bowls of guacamole and salsa and a giant bag of chips. They ate in front of the television, watching the Red Sox battle the Yankees.
Afterward, Sebastian said, “Man, it’s good to relax.”
“Do you want to talk about it? I mean, about your father?”
“No. Not tonight. He and Mom are in my mind enough. I want to be purely selfish. I want to focus on my own needs.”
“I think I can help you do that,” Keely said.
* * *
—
Later, as they lay in bed together, watching through the bedroom window as the light faded from the sky, they talked.
“Isn’t it odd?” Keely said. “I came home to help my mother, and now you’re helping your father.”
Sebastian groaned. “That’s the easy part for me. I don’t mind spending time with Dad or helping him into his wheelchair, eventually helping him do easy exercises so he doesn’t lose muscle. I’m glad to do that, and the doctors and nurses have been brilliant, telling us what to do.”
“What’s the hard part, then?” Keely asked, and she knew she was being vain when she thought, silently, that Sebastian would say the hard part was being away from her.
“Mom,” Sebastian said. “She’s not
tolerating all this change very well. She’s angry—I think anger is often a kind of recycled fear. She…sometimes she’s not as patient with Dad as she should be.”
“Is there any way I can help?” Keely asked.
“I don’t know. Let me think about it. He’s known you since you were a kid, so he would probably feel comfortable with you. On the other hand, Isabelle might feel funny about you being there.”
“She knows you and I are seeing each other, right?”
“Yeah. She just needs more time to adjust to having you on the island again.”
“Well,” Keely said softly, struggling to keep any bitterness from her voice, “it’s not exactly her island, is it?”
Sebastian turned and burrowed his head into his pillow. “God, Keely, let’s not fight. I wish you and Izzy were friends again. It doesn’t feel right having you estranged. You don’t hate her because of Tommy, right?”
“Of course not. I don’t hate her at all.”
“I don’t think she hates you, either, Keely. I think she’s jealous of you, because you’re a novelist now. She hasn’t gotten anything published yet. I think she’s given up trying. I know she’s happy with Tommy and she’s crazy mad in love with Brittany. But I don’t think her life is complete without you.”
Keely ran her hand over his back, his beautiful, long, broad-shouldered, muscular back. “Okay,” Keely said softly. “Okay. I’ll think about what I can do…” She lay there quietly a moment, gathering her courage. “Sebastian?” She kept her hand on his back, keeping a physical connection between them. “We’ve all been so worried about your father, so I didn’t tell you, because really, it’s not worth bothering about, but Gray Anderpohl came here for a few days. I didn’t invite him. He came on his own. He had some leave from the hospital. He didn’t stay with me, he stayed at the White Elephant. I took him to a Maria Mitchell gala one night, and he took me and my mother to dinner at Topper’s one night.”
She felt Sebastian’s muscles tense as she spoke, but he didn’t say anything.
