“I’d love to,” Hanna answered, a bit flattered that he appeared to be nervous. He certainly didn’t come across that way with all his flirting for Derick’s benefit, but perhaps Eli unscripted was a different matter entirely.
They were nearing Uppercross now. Hanna could see the campfire, melting into embers as a shadowy figure with two heads sat close by. Derick and Ella, of course. She slowed, not wanting to make a big production out of her entrance or to see what had come after the whipped cream incident.
“So, should we meet downtown tomorrow?” she asked, turning to face Eli.
“Nah, I’ll swing by and pick you up. We can walk over if that’s okay.”
“Sure, what time?”
“Let’s say eleven? We can eat first and then get some photos.”
“Sounds good,” Hanna said, suddenly feeling awkward about what would be considered an appropriate parting gesture. A handshake or high five? Maybe a quick, one-armed hug? It would have been so much easier if there was a rule book for this kind of thing.
In the end her worrying turned out to be moot. Eli grasped her hand and grazed her knuckles with a chivalrous kiss.
“It’s a date, then,” Eli said, looking up at her from under his lashes.
“Can’t wait,” Hanna managed, trying to demurely pull her hand back to safety. The last thing she needed was Ella perking up and focusing on her.
Eli dropped her a teasing wink, fully aware of her discomfort and enjoying it entirely too much. “See you tomorrow,” he called out as he backed away.
Hanna waved and stepped into the house. She hesitated inside for just a moment, deliberating whether she should go clean up outside. Undoubtedly everyone had assumed someone else would take care of it.
Then she decided that since Derick and Ella had chased everyone else away with their antics, they could quite easily manage it by themselves. With a new bounce in her step she climbed the stairs to her room, thinking of what to wear for her date the next day.
FOURTEEN
SPIRES and SOUVENIRS
A very strange stranger it must be, who does not see charms in the immediate environs of Lyme.
—Jane Austen, Persuasion
The following morning passed uneventfully. Hanna woke early and made chocolate chip banana bread for breakfast. The boys had it gobbled up and were already outside making a mud puddle in the sand by the time their mother got up.
Mary had her health issues to be sure, but Hanna couldn’t help feeling that if her sister put forth a little effort, such as getting out of bed in the morning, she would feel better. As far as Hanna could tell, Mary was exhibiting symptoms of depression. She slept in most mornings, napped nearly every afternoon, and turned in early some nights. And somehow she seemed to be exhausted in between. Granted, having two energetic children under the age of seven was draining in and of itself, but as Mary spent little time dealing with them on her own, it wasn’t a likely excuse.
Mary insisted that she had Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, but according to Charles it was a self-diagnosis only.
“Did you put sunscreen on the boys?” Mary inquired as she stood at the back door looking out.
“They’re greased,” Hanna answered, biting the inside of her cheek as she scoured the bread pan. She hadn’t yet informed Mary of her imminent absence for the day, and she doubted it would go over well. It never did.
She decided to try presenting the information from an angle. “So, Eli asked me out last night.”
“Oh? When are you going?”
“He’s coming to get me around eleven. He wants to take some pictures downtown and get lunch.”
Mary said nothing. From the time they were children, she’d always hated being excluded from anything.
“And I’ve been thinking we should do a girls’ spa day sometime,” Hanna tacked on artfully.
That did the trick. “We could go shopping and grab a bite too! Maybe ask Ella and Sophie to come along.”
Gritting her teeth, Hanna agreed. Her only hope was that she wouldn’t have to listen to Ella’s effusions of fancy on Derick all day.
Hanna wiped down the kitchen table and then hugged her sister. “I’ll be home for dinner,” she told her, then sweetened the deal. “I’ll even cook. How does chicken Caesar salad wraps sound?”
Mary smiled, and Hanna silently congratulated herself as she went upstairs to get ready.
After showering, brushing her teeth, and drying her hair, it took Hanna a only moment to choose her outfit. She wanted to look nice, but Eli struck her as a flip-flop kind of guy. Deciding on a floor-length peasant skirt, she topped it with a cap-sleeve T-shirt. Obviously they would be walking around, so she wanted comfortable shoes. Coming to the conclusion that her skirt would mostly cover her feet, she put on her canvas TOMS. Next she applied light make-up and plaited her hair loosely over one shoulder. When Hanna stepped out of her room, with the intention of checking her reflection quickly in the bathroom mirror, she was surprised to find Eli leaning against the banister in the hall, waiting for her.
“Eli? When did you get here?” More importantly, what are you doing outside my room?
“A few minutes ago,” he told her with a sparkle in his eyes. “I saw your sister outside, and she said to come on in.”
Hanna frowned. A little warning from Mary might have been nice. What if Hanna had been traipsing around in her bra or something? Not that she ever traipsed, and definitely not half dressed. But still . . .
Eli pulled her from her thoughts. “You look pretty,” he said, his voice and face full of admiration.
“Thanks. So do you.” She colored. “I mean, not pretty, but—”
“No worries.” Eli offered her his arm. “I have no problem being called pretty.”
Hanna laughed as they descended the stairs, feeling her discomfort evaporate. Did Eli have any clue as to the power he wielded with his disarming smile? Probably. Beautiful boys like Eli, the ones who had won the genetic lottery, usually did.
“Would it be okay if we stopped in a couple of the shops after lunch?” Hanna asked as they closed the front door behind themselves.
“Sure. This pretty boy has no problem with shopping either.”
☼
“I’ve heard this place is really good,” Eli said, pulling open the door of a restaurant called Olives and waiting for Hanna to go inside.
“It smells amazing,” Hanna answered, breathing in the rich scents of butter and cream.
Each table was covered with clean white paper, and dotted with a centerpiece that consisted of olive oil, Parmesan cheese, and salt/pepper grinders. Eli and Hanna were seated by a hostess and moments later a server appeared with two glasses of ice water. They looked over the menus, placed their respective orders, and dug into a loaf of rosemary Focaccia bread, fresh from the oven.
“So, last night I realized that I don’t know what you do for a living,” Eli said to Hanna.
“I’m a kindergarten teacher.”
Eli took that in. “I guess that fits. What do you do when you’re not at work?”
“I like to draw. When I don’t have the energy for that, I read. What about you?” she tacked on, dunking a chunk of bread in a puddle of olive oil.
“My job is my hobby,” Eli replied as their salads were brought to the table. “I’ve done some writing in the past, but it’s never really come to anything.”
“What kind of writing?”
Eli paused, long enough to spear some salad into his mouth, chew, and then swallow. “Short stories, mostly.”
Hanna waited for more information, but he didn’t offer any. “Do you think you’ll publish?”
He shrugged. “Probably not. Querying publishers and agents is a tedious process, and then there’s the slush pile.”
She took a sip of her water. “Tell me about one of your stories? Your favorite one.”
Eli gave her a dazzling smile. “It starts out with a damsel in distress over a broken kite. I haven’t decided how it ends yet.�
��
Hanna felt her face reddening, so she focused on her salad. As if in answer to a prayer, the food arrived a moment later.
After lunch, the pair wandered up and down the streets of Old Lyme. If Hanna had known what she was missing by going dutifully to Uppercross when she’d first arrived, she would have made it a point to visit much sooner. The downtown shops had a distinct mom-and-pop feel to them, an antique sort of charm that hooked her right off. She itched to browse the boutiques that sold custom pieces of clothing and hand-made jewelry, but decided those would be better in feminine company. The many souvenir shops were completely overwhelming, carrying everything from T-shirts to shot glasses to snow globes that all read Old Lyme. Hanna was particularly drawn to a miniature Lymelight, which stood about ten inches tall and sprouted from a realistic foundation of rocks, just like the original. Deciding that it would make a nice desk decoration at school, Hanna purchased it, and she and Eli went next door to the retro shop.
Eli had to practically drag Hanna out of the used book store, only managing the task by drawing her attention to the aroma of rich chocolate wafting in from the candy store a few doors down. After buying a dozen salted caramels covered with all varieties of chocolate, the pair decided to head back. Hanna found herself intrigued by the elegance of the architecture in Old Lyme: curling wrought iron gates, crumbling brick exteriors, turrets and spires—all flooding the whole downtown area with New England charm. Eli snapped photos of everything, and Hanna admired the shots. It was by far the best day of the summer for Hanna, at least so far.
FIFTEEN
KISS and DAGGER
Though becoming attached to another, still he could not see her suffer, without the desire of giving her relief.
—Jane Austen, Persuasion
It was nearly three o’clock when Hanna finally returned home. She felt the particularly draining fatigue that accompanies a day spent in the sun. The absence of chaos in the house told her that Mary and Walt were probably napping, and that CJ was likely outdoors with his father. Taking advantage of a rare opportunity to rest, Hanna slipped quietly into her room, traded her skirt for some sweat pants, pulled on her hoodie, and flopped onto the bed.
I’ll just close my eyes for a minute, she pledged.
When she woke, it was to the sound of shrieking children. The clock on her nightstand told her that the intended power nap had turned into a two-and-a-half-hour siesta. She sat up, rubbing her eyes with the shaky hands of someone woken abruptly from deep sleep. After a bathroom break she took a second to fix her messy braid. Across the hall in the bonus room, the boys were building towers with Mega Blocks while Charles watched Sports Center.
“Where’s Mary?” Hanna asked.
“Hey, Banana,” CJ greeted his aunt in a bored voice.
“‘Nana!” Walter repeated.
Hanna stooped and lifted him into her arms. Her brother-in-law hadn’t so much as looked up when she came in the room. One of Mary’s biggest complaints about her husband was that he tuned her out whenever the TV was on. Hanna tried again.
“Charles.”
“Oh, hey, Hanna. How was lunch with Eli?”
“Great.” She smiled. How many times had she suggested that Mary get her husband’s attention before talking to him? “Is Mary sleeping?”
“Do you even have to ask?”
Hanna had no response, so she just shrugged. “I promised her I’d make dinner tonight, so I need to run to the store. Do you need anything?”
“The boys and I went and picked up groceries earlier. You should have everything you need downstairs.”
“Okay, thanks. It shouldn’t take long, maybe half an hour.”
Charles nodded, his eyes back on the screen before she’d finished her sentence. Not for the first time, Hanna thought she understood the invention of the dinner bell. Setting Walter back down, she turned and headed downstairs. She had barely alighted from the last step when an invisible wall halted her progress.
Hanna kept a running tally of the worst moments of her life, all of which had to do with Derick: the day she’d found his note at the dock all those years ago, the day she’d knocked heads with him on the beach, the night she had a front-row seat to his and Ella’s first kiss . . .
But the sight that met her as she rounded the corner into the family room topped them all. It was as if all those moments had been written in dull pencil, and were now being scrawled over with angry black marker.
Derick and Ella were lying pressed together on the couch and kissing passionately. An incredulous squeak escaped Hanna before she could stop it, and Ella tore her lips from Derick’s with a sickening squelch.
“Sorry, Hanna!” On looking up and finding an audience, Ella laughed indelicately into her hand. Derick appeared to be a little more contrite, at least having the decency to fix his eyes on his shoes as he sat up and planted his feet on the floor.
Hanna was fully aware that her continued presence in the room was making it miserable for at least two of them, but she couldn’t move. Not until she’d spoken the words rolling around in her head.
“There are children in this house, you know,” she informed the couple in a quivering voice. It was all she could do to keep from yelling. “You might want to keep that in mind.”
And with that she let herself out the sliding door, relieved to feel the marine air on her scalding cheeks.
Whether it was an excess of negative energy building within her or just the desire to put as much space between herself and Uppercross as possible, she couldn’t say, but she took off running and did not stop until a stitch in her side crippled her. She hadn’t really paid attention to where she was going as she sprinted off, and she found herself at the breakwater. Walking out to the Lymelight probably wasn’t the best idea—the current was strong this far offshore and the tide could be unpredictable—but logic wasn’t winning any arguments with Hanna at the moment. Climbing onto the column of stone, she picked her way down the rocky outcropping.
☼
“Can you say ‘awkward’?” Ella giggled after Hanna left.
Awkward didn’t even begin to cover it. Scalding shame? Searing guilt? Even those seemed weak compared to the acrid discomfort Derick was experiencing. Standing, he told Ella that he would return in a minute and let himself out the back door. He didn’t know where Hanna had gone or why he needed to find her; he just knew it was necessary.
Deciding to head toward the breakwater, Derick forced himself to take a closer look at his behavior over the past few weeks. He didn’t like what he saw, especially seen through someone else’s eyes.
Sophie had never approved of Ella, and she’d made it clear. His sister had warned him about the age difference and Ella’s lack of regard for personal boundaries, but Derick had allowed himself to discount her advice on the grounds that no one else was bothered with it. He had shoved his sister’s complaints into a file marked disapproving older sibling and moved on. Adam’s opinions usually went along with his wife’s as a general rule, so his vote didn’t really count. Benny glowered at everyone, so there was no knowing one way or the other what he thought.
Charles, the only person with an authentic right to disapprove, seemed nothing but delighted with his sister’s conquest.
That left Hanna.
Her complaints could hardly be objective given the situation, but something in the way she’d looked at him, something in her voice when she’d scolded him, made Derick feel small. Like he’d disappointed her. Like she expected more of him, and he’d fallen short.
Kicking a soda can in his path, Derick shoved his hands in his pockets. He should have picked it up, but taking his anger out on the environment felt better.
SIXTEEN
THE LYMELIGHT
Captain Wentworth was all attention, looking and listening with his whole soul.
—Jane Austen, Persuasion
At the end of the breakwater Hanna kicked off her flip-flops, pressing her back into the brick exterior of the lighth
ouse and sliding down to its base. It seemed like ages that she sat there, watching the sun’s imperceptible progress toward the water’s edge, with nothing but the gathering tide to keep her company. At the moment Hanna didn’t think she would care if the sea rose up and swallowed her whole.
She couldn’t rid her mind of the image of Derick and Ella on the sofa. The way they hadn’t seemed to notice, let alone care, whether anyone else was in the room. What rotten luck, to have imposed at such a moment, and with no ability to control her reaction. A smarter spinster of twenty-eight watching her ex falling in love with a younger girl would have turned and fled the room. But Hanna didn’t move. She hadn’t been able to—she’d been torn between a morbid compulsion to keep watching and the urge to throw something at their heads. In the end, she couldn’t leave until she’d delivered the scolding they so desperately deserved.
Now she sat looking out at the horizon, hazy with approaching dusk. The thing that bothered her the most, more than the impropriety of their actions, was seeing Derick behave in such a way. It broke her heart. When they were together they’d had careful rules about PDA that prevented any such situation. What hurt the most was that even though Derick had come back into her life, it seemed that the man she had fallen in love with didn’t exist anymore. Like losing him all over again—if you could lose something you didn’t really have.
Tears, or perhaps the stiff wind, stung Hanna’s eyes. Or maybe it was the realization that the closure she’d never gotten had just been thrown in her face, slapped into her unwilling hands with deafening finality.
Rolling her sweats up to mid calf, Hanna pulled her hoodie tight around her face to conceal the tears. From whom, she didn’t know. This thought—the reality of her utter aloneness, not just at this moment but in general—washed over her. Yielding to her pain, Hanna pulled her knees to her chest, let her head droop forward, and cried.
Several moments later, when her sobs had quieted and nothing but the sea spraying off the breakwater could be heard, an all too-familiar voice broke the stillness.
Persuaded Page 9
