Sofie answered, “The art historian who came to Newboro.”
“Oh,” Jake said. “Mom? What are you doing here anyway?”
“I actually came to ask Kristi if she’d take the canvas I had in my house . . . on commission.”
Kristi looked around the room. “Shawn already dropped it off. He said you’d probably come here about it.”
Annabelle laughed. “He knows me a bit too well, doesn’t he?”
Sofie walked toward Annabelle, stood in front of her and then hugged her. Annabelle took a moment to overcome her surprise, and then she reached her arms around this lost child and returned the hug. When she glanced over her shoulder, she swore there were tears in her son’s eyes.
When, later, they all paused outside the art studio, Jake pulled his mother aside. “Can Sofie stay with us until she figures out what she’s gonna do?”
She shook her head. “No, but I’m sure we can find her a place to stay. Mae has the apartment over her barn, or—”
“Hey, that’s a great idea.” Jake grabbed the cell phone from his back pocket. “Thanks, Mom,” he called over his shoulder as he returned to Sofie’s side, and they moved down the sidewalk together.
Now Annabelle could stop thinking about Liddy Parker’s life and concentrate on her own. Tonight she could return to the friends she had avoided.
Annabelle stood outside Cooper and Christine’s house, thought of that bottle of Tickle Pink she’d shared with Shawn, of the ties that had bound them together through so many wonderful, troubled and imperfect times. She entered the house without knocking. Cooper, Christine, Mae, Frank and Shawn stood in the living room holding wineglasses and talking. They all turned as she came in.
“Annabelle.” Shawn said her name with a smile, took the dish of peach cobbler from her hands.
Christine came over, pecked her cheek. “What a fantastic surprise. I thought you’d given up on us.”
“Never,” Annabelle said. “You don’t ever give up on best friends, do you?”
In minutes the dance of their friendships resumed with a only few missteps. Frank told very bad jokes; Shawn imitated the mayor being arrested; Christine bustled around the house, and Cooper cornered Annabelle in the hallway. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes, I am now,” she said.
“We’ve really missed you.”
“I’ve missed y’all, too,” she said. “I found out why . . . or at least part of why Knox was on that plane with Liddy Parker. I’ll tell everyone over dinner.”
Cooper smiled, kissed her cheek. “You are amazing.”
“Aw, shucks,” she said. “You’ve just had one too many martinis.”
Cooper threw his head back and laughed so loud that Shawn came into the hallway. “What’s up?”
Cooper slapped Shawn’s back. “What would we ever do without Belle?”
Shawn looked at Annabelle, then quickly averted his gaze. “I don’t know, Cooper, but if you figure it out, let me know.”
Cooper didn’t answer since he’d already moved down the hall to holler for everyone to come to the table, dinner was served.
When the night had wound down, when the wine bottles were empty and the peach cobbler gone, Annabelle told her best friends the story of Knox and Liddy and Sofie. Afterward, silence filled the room until Mae spoke.
“How could we have never known any of this?”
Christine looked at Cooper. “Did you know?”
“No,” he said, touched his wife’s arm. “Obviously no one did.”
Christine gestured toward Annabelle. “You okay about all this?”
Annabelle nodded. “Yes.”
“You don’t care that he kept this secret from you all during your marriage?” Christine asked.
Mae spoke in Annabelle’s silence. “Whether we know everything about the people we love or not, we know we love them,” Mae said and kissed her husband.
Cooper lifted his wineglass as if to make a toast, then set it down. “You know, we all need to keep pieces of ourselves that are ours alone.”
The table fell silent. Annabelle imagined each person thinking of the one or many secrets they kept to themselves, things they didn’t share even with those they loved most. How hard it must have been for Shawn to share one of the secrets he’d carried for years; in her heart she reached out toward him across the table. She caught his eye and smiled at him; he gave her a nod and half-smile in return.
Annabelle was ready to go home. “Thanks for a great night, Cooper and Christine. I’ll get my dish tomorrow. I’m more tired than I realized. The party is at my house next time.” They all agreed, and she offered hugs to her friends before she walked out the front door.
Shawn met her outside. “Hey, I know you walked here. Come on, I’ll give you a ride.”
“Thanks,” she said. “I’m so tired all of a sudden.”
He opened the passenger door. She climbed in, looked at him. “How’s the new business going?”
He slid behind the wheel, started the car. “Good. It should be off the ground by next month.”
“Great.” Annabelle leaned back on the seat, and they drove in companionable silence until he parked across the street from her house. She looked over at him. “Thanks, Shawn. No need to walk me in.”
He nodded. “I’ll wait until you’re safely inside.”
She left the car, then leaned into the window, stared at him for a moment. “We’re okay, aren’t we? You mean so much to me. . . .”
He opened the driver’s-side door and got out; she stood and looked at him over the top of the car while he spoke. “I can’t change the way I feel, but neither can you. We’re fine. Always have been. Always will be.”
Annabelle nodded. “Good night, dear friend.”
She walked across the street, and stopped on the sidewalk in front of her house. Two figures sat under the porch light, where a blue hue from the painted ceiling fell onto their faces. Jake and Sofie.
Jake’s laugh echoed across the night; his fingers touched Sofie’s cheek and she leaned into his palm, answered his laugh with hers.
After Shawn had revealed his love, Annabelle had told him that his confession broke life into pieces she couldn’t put back together.
She’d been wrong.
Jake and Sofie—imperfect, rough-edged and broken pieces—were coming together to make something beautiful.
She glanced to where Shawn stood waiting for her to enter the house safely. She knew he couldn’t see her; she walked across the street, startled him when she came to his side and spoke. “I once told you that our lives were broken into pieces I couldn’t put back together.”
“I know, Belle. I remember.” He leaned on the car door.
“Well, maybe broken things can’t be fixed, but maybe they can come together to make something that is a little imperfect, rough around the edges, but entirely new.” She took his hand, wound her fingers through his.
His smile showed in the dark before he whispered, “Entirely new.” He lifted their entwined hands to his lips.
Behind Shawn, a full moon trembled on the very edge of a horizon into which Annabelle had once wished she could disappear. Now she wanted to stay exactly where she was, until a new day lighted the thin edge of beauty where water met sky.
Patti Callahan Henry lives with her husband and three children near Atlanta, Georgia, along the Chattahoochee River. Visit her Web site at www.patticallahanhenry.com.
The Art OF KEEPING SECRETS
PATTI CALLAHAN HENRY
This Conversation Guide is intended to enrich the
individual reading experience, as well as encourage us
to explore these topics together—because books,
and life, are meant for sharing.
A CONVERSATION WITH PATTI CALLAHAN HENRY
Q. This novel taps into a fear that many married women share—that they can never be certain of their husbands’ fidelity. What inspired you to explore this issue, and in particular, why did you
decide to set up the story so that the husband has already died?
A. I’m not sure I meant to explore infidelity or women’s fears about their husbands. What I did mean to explore were the issues of faith, trust and belief in our uncertain world. I always start a story with a what-if, and this story began with “What if everything she ever believed about her marriage was challenged, called into doubt?” For both the reader and myself, I wanted to ask the hard question: can you still believe when everything points in the opposite direction, when certainty is crumbling?
Annabelle has two choices—to let her faith disintegrate or to continue believing in her marriage. Her decision to believe in her husband, and their life together, prompts action, sending her to Newboro to discover what he was doing before he died.
I set up the story so that the husband has already died so that the person who can best answer Annabelle’s questions, and provide the proof that will dispel her doubt, is gone forever. Annabelle must examine her own beliefs and move toward her own truth, and if Knox were there to answer all her questions, she would never make the journey that has the potential to make her a stronger woman.
Q. Often Sofie appears to love the dolphins in her life more than the humans. Why do you give dolphins such a central role in this novel?
A. Dolphins have appeared in myth and story, and in countless pieces of art, for thousands of years. They often represent innocence and beauty, and frequently appear as “helpers.” Humans seem to feel a compelling need to understand the dolphin, and we often attempt to do so through story, making the dolphin a god, a healer or a force for good.
I decided to explore the dolphin world because of my own interest in them, and I thoroughly enjoyed the research I did for the book, learning about their signature whistles, how they give birth and many aspects of their behavior. I’ve stood on the beach and watched dolphins, reached over the sides of boats to touch their sleek backs. and wondered: what do they think about us? Do they talk to each other? To us? Are they capable of love? Just as Annabelle wants definitive answers about her husband, I found myself wanting solid, provable answers about the dolphins. But as Sofie learns and Annabelle comes to accept, answers aren’t always possible. Often we must learn to live with uncertainty, believe without confirmation.
Q. Liddy has died before the book opens, yet her actions have a profound effect on other characters—especially Annabelle and Sofie. What factors did you consider in shaping Liddy’s character? Do you think she was a good mother?
A. I hoped to show that just because someone is gone—to either death or another location—does not mean their influence has left with them. Both Knox and Liddy are dead, yet they remain vital to those who loved them. But memories are hazy at best, formed and shifted through time. Sofie and Annabelle must wrestle with their memories—the words said, the actions taken—without the assurance that their recollections are exactly true. When I shaped Liddy’s character I knew that her words and actions, which take place before the novel begins, would continue to have authority over Sofie’s and Annabelle’s lives. Liddy’s past deeds needed to be powerful and real. Although she is gone, the ramifications of the lies she told and the decisions she made are still being felt.
I’m not sure I think Liddy was a good mother, as much as she was the best mother she knew how to be. Lies, deceit and fear are not good mothering techniques, yet they were all she knew to use to keep control of her life and protect her daughter.
Q. Sofie’s life is defined and constrained by the lies her mother told her, and the lies she tells others. What intrigued you about Sofie? Why did you decide to explore a character with such an unusual background? Do you think Sofie will be capable of living an honest life in the future?
A. What intrigued me about Sofie was how she chooses to deal with the lies: she turns to the sea, and to dolphins, in particular—to the world of the unknown. She looks for meaning and solace in a place outside human love and connection. I wanted to explore how a young woman like her could possibly love when lies and deceit were all she’s ever known. Can she reach out to another human? Can she ever trust?
I do believe Sofie can live an honest life, but not without cost. (Can anyone live an honest life without cost?) She must let go of certain fears, beliefs and doubts to truly love. Sofie didn’t consciously choose to shut herself off from other people; she merely offered her love and soul elsewhere. Once she trusts someone enough to open her heart again, she will be able to love again. Yet I also wanted to make Sofie an example—we might not all have as many secrets as she does, but we all must let go of certain fears in order to love fully.
Q. Both Annabelle and Liddy face significant challenges as mothers. As a mother of three children, ages fifteen to ten, do you particularly sympathize with what Annabelle and Liddy confront as mothers?
A. The challenges and joys of being a mother are endless. Each age and each stage of life offer new moments to appreciate and new tests to endure. One day I’m teaching them to ride a tricycle and, blink, the next I’m teaching them to drive. The overriding emotions, for Annabelle, Liddy and myself, are unconditional love and the need to protect, mixed in with a dash of exhaustion. So, although I’ve never had to face any of the situations Annabelle and Liddy do, the needs and passions remain the same.
Q. Do you ever have time to read for pleasure, and if so, what have you particularly enjoyed lately?
A. So many books, so little time. My to-read pile has grown completely out of control. I believe reading is imperative to good storytelling, yet it’s hard to find time to keep up with all the good new books being published. Out on the road, talking to booksellers and readers, I hear about new authors. I buy their books, put them in the pile. . . .
If I start listing my favorite books and authors, I’ll waste pages and pages on this conversation, and still inevitably leave someone out. My Web site (www.patticallahanhenry.com) lists some of my favorites, and I also recommend new and upcoming titles. Also, I am part of a blog with some of my very favorite authors—go check them out! (www.southernauthorsblog.com)
My recommendation for finding a good new book: don’t just go to the “bestseller” table. Visit your local bookstore, ask the bookseller what she recommends. These book lovers have their finger on the pulse of the reading community; they know what is coming out soon, and have heard about or perhaps already read terrific novels that you might not see prominently displayed or advertised.
Q. Many of your good friends are writers and artists. What do you particularly enjoy about those relationships? What have you learned from them about the creative process?
A. I won’t sugarcoat it: when I first started stepping into the unknown world of creative work, I was scared. Truly frightened. This new life threatened to expose the softer side of my heart and soul, a vulnerability that most people who know me might not suspect is very much a part of me. I walked on tiptoe, carefully and slowly, into writers’ groups, conferences and classes. I began to talk to other writers, other artists, and I discovered that many of them share a conviction—that not writing, taking photographs, painting or whatever their creative endeavor would be more detrimental to them than the possibility of rejection or defeat.
What I enjoy most about these relationships is the camaraderie that comes from being in the trenches together. Only another writer (or artist) can understand when melancholy takes over your heart, when a deadline threatens to break your spirit, or when a breakthrough thrills your soul. What I have learned from other writers is that this is a journey with ups and downs, that learning never ends and quitting is not an option. We remind each other of why we write, and in doing so, we help each other move forward.
Yet I also cherish the relationships I have with those who do not write—friends, family and loved ones who enrich my life with their presence and affection, and with their acceptance of my chosen path. I am blessed.
Q. You have been writing and touring over the past five years. What is your favorite part of the writing life? Wh
at is the hardest part?
A. My favorite part is creating the stories—forming new worlds and exploring my characters’ lives. I thrive on thinking about, researching and discovering the story. Blaise Pascal says, “Things are always at their best in the beginning,” and maybe they are, because I love my story when I first meet it. Yet I also adore getting to the end and in rereading the story, discovering the themes and meaning I wasn’t fully aware of while I was caught up in the journey.
I also value the lessons inherent in any artistic pursuit. Every time I learn something about “craft,” I also discover something about myself and my life (and it isn’t always pretty). Sometimes I believe that I’ve been led to write because I’m so stubborn, I wouldn’t learn some of my harder life lessons any other way. In addition, the relationships that have come from this writing life are amongst the most beautiful I’ve known.
The hardest part about writing is, for me, the editing, the cutting and changing. Although I am always thrilled with the outcome, since the book ends up being better, I liken the process to exercise: I’m glad when it’s over.
Q. You’ve written five novels in five years. How do you stay inspired and energized to continue writing at this pace? What are you working on now?
A. I have discovered that even in a dark and doubtful moment, quitting is harder than continuing. I’m not sure I can explain why this is so—I just know that stopping would quell something significant inside of me. I’m not always energized, or inspired, but I am committed. I believe in the power of story, and so I write. There are days when I am so inspired, I believe I could write a book in a day. Then there are days when I’m not sure I can force myself to sit down at the computer. But on both days, I write.
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