“Isn’t it a little dangerous to be out here by yourself?”
She didn’t need to look to see who it was, and she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her tears either. “And your point is?”
Derick paused, probably taken back by her snark. “My point is, it’s probably not the best place for you to be.”
Surreptitiously, Hanna swiped the sleeve of her sweatshirt across her cheeks to rid them of tears, mortified when black streaks came away. “Thanks for the tip,” she said dryly, retracting her hands back into the cuffs of her sweatshirt and folding her arms around herself. How many times had she imagined having a conversation with Derick in the distant future? She’d envisioned countless scenarios of what she would say to him. One thing was certain: in none of those scenarios was she still single at twenty-eight, sitting alone on a beach in sweats smeared with peanut butter, and crying her mascara off over him.
“Look, I just wanted to apologize for offending you or making you uncomfortable back there. We weren’t thinking.”
Derick’s casual use of the word we gave Hanna more pain than the incident itself. As if their being a couple was a certainty, an afterthought. She took a moment to swallow the sensation before answering in a lifeless tone, “This isn’t about me. What if CJ had been the one to walk in?” It sounded cheap to her own ears, and she knew it wasn’t entirely true the moment it left her mouth. But what else could she say? Yeah, this really sucks, watching you fall for someone else . . . I never really got over you . . .
“If you’re going to act that way, at least have the decency to make sure you’re behind a closed door,” Hanna suggested, feeling the words tearing up her throat on their way out.
“So this has nothing whatsoever to do with how you may be feeling, after walking in on us?”
She looked over, disbelief causing her mouth to hang open. He pressed the advantage of her speechlessness. “This is purely about you protecting your stance on the moral high ground and has nothing to do with our history?”
Hanna threw her hands up. “What do you want me to say? That watching Ella mount you was on my bucket list? That I enjoy getting your relationship rubbed in my face every day? That this is the best summer of my life?”
She was immediately gratified by his reaction; it was clear that Derick had not expected honesty—let alone anger—from her. True, Hanna rarely had such outbursts, but considering the amount of buildup, it wasn’t unwarranted.
“I see you finally found your voice,” Derick observed coolly. “Any other questions you’d like to throw at me?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. You could explain why you never came to breakfast that day.”
A muscle in Derick’s jaw surfaced under his skin before sinking out of site. Apparently he didn’t need clarification on the day in question. “Would you prefer the short answer or the long one?”
“Both,” Hanna said, wishing a note of vulnerability hadn’t crept into her voice. But being on the verge of a resolution that evaded her for a decade made her a bit desperate.
His eyes roamed her face for a long moment, and Hanna felt her sun-and-tear-tender cheeks redden as he took in her disheveled appearance.
“The short answer is, I was young and stupid, and everything was black-and-white back then. The long answer is, I heard you talking to Maude that night.”
“That was your long answer?” she argued, displeased.
Derick sighed. “Do we really need to bring all this up? It’s not like it matters anymore.”
The words twisted the blade in her side. Of course he didn’t care—he’d already moved on. He’d had a career and a lifetime in between then and now. “It matters to me,” Hanna admitted, feeling exposed as the words left her mouth.
Whatever Derick saw in her eyes must have convinced him.
“I drove to your house that night,” he began in a distant voice, with a faraway look in his eyes. “The window was open. I heard Maude say that marrying me would be throwing yourself away. I heard everything she said about me, and I kept waiting for you to stand up for me. But you didn’t—you agreed with her.”
Suddenly a film was peeled from Hanna’s eyes. She remembered the conversation that Derick had obviously gotten only a piece of. “I’m guessing you didn’t stick around for the end of it.”
Derick lifted a shoulder, his eyes still avoiding hers. “I’d heard all I needed to hear.”
So, he didn’t hear what she told Maude over a cup of tea later that night. He didn’t know that she came to the restaurant the next morning with a mile-wide smile, barely able to contain her excitement. He didn’t know that she chose him.
“Was I wrong?” he asked in a casual tone, as if he were barely interested, but the stiffness in the line of his shoulders belied him, betrayed the way he was bracing himself for her answer.
“Like you said, it doesn’t matter anymore,” she muttered.
“That’s not fair,” Derick said through clenched teeth. “It obviously matters or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
He had a point. “We were both wrong,” she said, suddenly not caring about the answers to her questions anymore. She had gotten the big one, and seeing her weak, mousy self through his eyes was quite enough self-realization for one day. Besides, she had already made herself as vulnerable as she cared to be for the moment.
“If I had shown up for breakfast, what would I have found?” he ventured.
“Let’s just say I had my bags packed.”
They sat quietly for a long time, both looking at the view in order to avoid the other’s eyes. Then Derick said, “I’m sorry, Hanna.”
What did he mean by those three words? Sorry for the past? For today? For life’s having a will of its own and being disinclined to oblige at any given moment? She couldn’t bear the weight of that “sorry,” so she stood and brushed off her pants. The need to escape now was only slightly weaker than the one that had driven her out here in the first place.
Derick copied her, chaffing his hands up and down his cargo shorts to rid them of sand. In silent acquiescence they turned and meandered down the breakwater’s stone ridge toward the beach. A strange sensation came over Hanna as they abandoned the Lymelight—as if all the turmoil and unpleasantness had been left at its base, forgotten and untended in the hope of its washing away. It wasn’t closure, exactly, but a new place to start from.
After walking in silence for a few moments, Derick cleared his throat and took a stab at small talk. “You seem like you’re having fun with your nephews.”
The tightness in Hanna’s chest eased a bit. Finally, they were on verbal safe ground. “They keep me young,” she agreed. “The boys can be a little energetic for Mary, though. She doesn’t deal well with them on her own, as I’m sure you noticed.”
“Do you mind if I ask . . . is Mary . . . medicated, or anything?”
Hanna smiled, just a little, before she could stop herself. “She is. Probably a little overmedicated, actually.”
Derick shook his head, his eyes widening, and Hanna found it almost funny. “Mary is one of those people that has to be heard,” she began. “But I can’t figure out why the kids upset her so much . . . it’s not like she was an only child or something. We made plenty of noise when we were little.”
“Boy noise is different than girl noise, though.”
“I guess so . . . but you’d think she’d be used to the testosterone by now.”
Smirking, Derick said, “Well, the boys don’t have much of that yet, and I’m pretty sure Charles’ levels are fairly low, what with Mary’s grip on his . . .”
Stifling a snort with her hand, Hanna looked up at Derick. He laughed back at her, and for a moment there was nothing but the sound of their shared levity evaporating off the surf. How topsy-turvy life was. Only a moment ago it felt like they had both been chained on the ocean floor.
Hanna watched Derick for a moment, the way she had not yet dared to. His hair was very light, like a new strawberr
y just starting to ripen. It must have been bleached by the sun during all the hours he’d spent out on the water. Golden freckles dotted the pale skin of his cheeks, nose, and forehead. Hanna looked around, relieved to see that they were only steps from the beach.
Derick scampered effortlessly off the breakwater, then turned to watch Hanna’s progress. She made it a point to pick her way carefully down, hoping that she wouldn’t slip in her worn flip-flops and land at Derick’s feet. That would be the perfect end to the night. But she made it without falling, and they continued toward Uppercross in companionable silence.
As they neared the house, Derick slowed. Hanna sensed there was something he had to say, but didn’t quite know how to get it out. He walked her to the back door and stood awkwardly with his hands in his pockets.
“Hanna . . .” he began then broke off and looked out at the ocean. He tried again. “Do you think it’s possible to start over, after all this time? Do you think we could be friends?”
Hanna’s answering emotions swirled within her, like a twister with its hot and cold currents of air. Start over whispered a remembrance of the love they had once shared, but friends stomped on that remembrance like a bug. A headache began pinging behind her eyes. In that moment, Hanna decided to stop searching for whatever might or might not be behind Derick’s words, behind his stormy eyes, and take everything at face value.
Coming to terms with his offer, she looked up at him. “I think I can manage that. Friends?” She asked, holding a hand out and noting the appearance of an almost smile on Derick’s face.
“Friends,” he agreed, pumping her hand once. “I’m taking the Laconia out tomorrow if you want to come.”
Hanna hoped her mouth wasn’t hanging open, but whatever he saw on her face prompted him to clarify.
“Adam and Sophie will be there too, and Benny.”
Don’t forget Ella, Hanna mentally added. She wasn’t nearly as offended at his making it clear it wasn’t a date as she was flattered that he’d pointedly invited her. “I’ll have to run it by Mary.” Her sister wasn’t likely to be thrilled at the prospect since Hanna had been gone most of today.
“I like to start early, when the water is calmest, probably around six. Will that be a problem?”
“Not at all,” Hanna said, wondering if Derick knew that his preference for smooth sailing had just solved her sisterly dilemma.
“Great,” Derick said, some nameless emotion ghosting across his face. It was so brief that Hanna decided she had imagined it.
“See you tomorrow, Banana,” he teased, framing CJ’s appellation for his aunt. Just before turning away, Derick threw a half glance and a partial smile over his shoulder. Then he disappeared into the mist that shrouded the path to Kelynch, leaving Hanna bewildered.
SEVENTEEN
HUMBLE PIE
At Lyme, he had received lessons of more than one sort.
—Jane Austen, Persuasion
When Derick had gone after Hanna earlier, he hadn’t told Ella where he was going, only that he would be back. But now the last thing he felt like doing was returning to the scene of his transgression, so he texted Ella to let her know that something had come up and he would see her in the morning. He didn’t feel like going home either, so he pushed on down the beach.
The carnival was in full swing, the scent of popcorn and roasted nuts permeating the air. The off-key carousel music, mingled with crowded voices and the calls of vendors, drowned out all the other noise in Derick’s head. It was a welcome, numbing sensation. In the bustle he found a place carved out for him, as if he were walking around in a bubble of invisibility. A place of safety where he could come to terms with what he’d just learned.
He’d blown it. Hanna was willing to drop everything and run off with him that day, and like the schmuck he was, he hoisted the mainsail and sent his phone to a watery death. The moral absolutism of the young really was a disease; there should be an inoculation against such stupidity.
Derick had come to view the past as a filthy, vicious beast, one that he’d stuffed in a dungeon that he never entered. But he decided it was time. Carefully he unlocked the cell, eyed the pathetic creature warily, and took a few turns around it. Then he held out a hand, helped it to its feet, and ushered it out the door.
It was time to change.
It was time to move on.
☼
When Derick finally got back home, it was fully dark outside. Adam and Sophie were sitting at the dining room finishing off an apple pie.
“Hey,” Sophie greeted her brother in a flat voice.
“Hi guys,” Derick said, trying to sound brighter than he felt.
Sophie eyed him for a minute. “No Ella?”
Was it his imagination, or did she grimace slightly at the name? Derick shook his head, clamping his hands on one of the empty kitchen chair backs. “Not tonight.”
Pleased, Sophie nudged the chair with her foot. “Have a seat, then.”
Plopping in the chair, Derick took a breath. It was best to get it all out of the way here and now.
“I, uh, actually wanted to talk to you guys about that.”
“About Ella?” Sophie clarified, her eyes darting to her husband and back to Derick. Sometimes he wondered if marriage enabled mind reading.
“Yeah. I think I’m going to . . . slow things down with her.”
A pregnant pause, another glance between the marrieds. When Adam broke the silence with, “Dude, are you—” Sophie kicked him under the table. Maybe saying I do didn’t give one telepathic abilities after all. Abandoning whatever he’d been about to say, Adam shoveled a forkful of pie into his mouth.
“Where did this come from?” Sophie asked.
“It’s getting a bit heavy,” Derick said evasively. He wasn’t sure how specific he wanted to be at the moment.
“Someone complained about the PDA, didn’t they?”
“Scolded was more like it,” Derick admitted, bowing his head at the memory. “Hanna, actually.”
“Hanna?” Adam verified around his mouthful.
Sophie looked beyond impressed. “I wouldn’t have thought she had it in her.”
“She’s got spunk,” Derick said. His sister gave him a speculative look, and he felt the need to clarify. “From what I’ve observed.”
“Sounds like you need this more than we do,” Sophie said, sliding the pie plate over to Derick.
He dug in obediently. The three of them sat in silence for a moment, before Derick set down the fork and looked up. “I know I haven’t been the best brother this summer. I haven’t been myself. I just want you to know that I’m sorry and that I’m going to do better.”
Adam laughed. “I’m going to get you something to drink, bro. I think you need something to wash down all that humble pie.”
“Thanks,” Derick said without humor, but Sophie gave him an empathetic look and laid a hand on his arm. He only hoped sending Hanna a couple slots up on Sophie’s approval list wouldn’t turn and bite him later.
“I’m taking the Laconia out tomorrow morning,” Derick told them. “I want you guys to come, and Benny.”
“What about Ella?” Sophie asked.
“Ella will be there too,” Derick admitted. “But I invited Hanna as well.”
Sophie perked right up. “What did she say?”
“I think she’s planning on it.”
“I guess we can rest assured you’ll be on your best behavior, then,” Sophie reasoned, patting her brother’s cheek and then delivering the empty pie plate to the sink.
“Scout’s honor,” Derick agreed, his hand in the air.
Sophie beamed at her brother, actually hugging him tight before going to bed. If that wasn’t enough reward in itself, Derick felt that little “click” again—the one that told him he was on the right path. He had braved the dungeon, freed the beast, and made it back into the light. And he never had to live in the dark again.
EIGHTEEN
THE UN-DATE
He could not do it now . . . time had changed him.
—Jane Austen, Persuasion
Early the next morning, Hanna and Ella met the Kelynch party on the beach before heading down to the harbor. Sophie gave Hanna a wide, encouraging smile and expressed her delight at the addition of Hanna’s presence for their outing. Benny looked as if he weren’t fully awake yet, which left Hanna wondering if he slept in most mornings. Certainly a crab fisherman was used to rising early, but perhaps his dingy outlook on life didn’t give him quite enough motivation to spring out of bed each day.
If she hadn’t been so happily engaged with Sophie’s conversation, Hanna would have focused all her attention on cheering him up. Pledging to return her attention to the effort later, Hanna answered Sophie’s curiosity about Eli. Her questions felt nothing like the grilling Hanna had endured from her own family on the subject, and she didn’t blush even once.
The trip to the marina took no time at all, and soon Hanna was stepping onto the Laconia. For just an instant, Hanna thought she could sympathize with Neil Armstrong when he touched down on the lunar surface: That’s one small step for most, one giant leap for me. Derick chivalrously took her hand and helped her aboard, as he did with his sister and Ella. Hanna tried to smile gratefully at him, but her mind was elsewhere. She couldn’t help but remember the last time she’d been here. Was Derick reminded of it as well? Probably not. His memories of the Laconia had nothing to do with Hanna, while hers had everything to do with him.
Knowing that the whole experience would be miserable if she allowed herself to flounder in the nostalgia, she seated herself next to Benny and smiled brightly at him as the Laconia cut a path out of the harbor.
Despite the early hour, the sun curled its fingers into Hanna’s skin as the ocean blew a cool breath in opposition. The contrast was a curious, almost pleasurable sensation that raised gooseflesh on her arms and legs. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back until the sun kissed her full on the face. Was this what it was like for Derick when he’d sailed around the world?
Persuaded Page 10
