“She’s okay, isn’t she?” I asked. She was doing well the last time I’d asked.
“Well, she’s fine, if undergoing a complete personality change is fine—and in her case, well…’’ Charlie gave Winnie a sharp look. “I haven’t told you the best part. She’s getting married.” I felt as if my heart were contracting into a fist. “You won’t believe who she’s marrying—not in a million years, not in a zillion.”
“Who’s marrying who?” Miranda said, obviously bored.
“Lindsay is marrying Max Wellman,” I said, putting it out there on the table. It was my way of taking control of the inevitable.
“Oh, right, that famous author. You already told me that, didn’t you, Jane?”
Winnie looked at me.
“No she isn’t,” Winnie said.
“She isn’t what?” I asked.
“She’s getting married, but not to Max Wellman. That’s what’s so strange. She’s marrying Basil Funk.”
I couldn’t make sense of this right away so I drank my beer, swallow after swallow, without saying anything. I think I had gone completely blank.
“The thing is,” Charlie said, “Basil went to the hospital every day. He sat by Lindsay’s bed and read to her. He was the first face she saw when she woke up—very Sleeping Beauty and all that. Max had gone downstairs for a cup of coffee. They shared that moment and then a bunch of others. Basil was there every day, every hour, at the hospital. Even more than Max. When Lindsay went home, Basil went with her. He wouldn’t leave her side.”
“Isn’t it romantic?” Winnie asked.
“I think it’s bizarre,” Charlie said. “Lindsay was, supposedly, in love with Max. Where did that go? Did it just disappear? It’s embarrassing to have such a fickle sister, despite the head injury. And Basil, how do you explain Basil? He was supposed to be so grief-stricken over Cynthia that he couldn’t even leave the Franklin estate. I don’t think it makes the slightest bit of sense. I can tell you, it wasn’t easy to explain it to Max.”
“Was he very upset?” I asked. My drink was empty and Guy, seeing that, got up to get me another.
“That was another weird thing,” Charlie said. “If anything, Max seemed relieved, so relieved that he couldn’t even hide it, though it would have been nice for him to hide it from me, her brother, if only for show.”
Guy came back with another beer, put it on the table in front of me, and shoved in beside me.
“And Max’s gone. We haven’t heard from him since,” Winnie said.
“He did buy a house before he left,” Charlie said.
“There’s that,” Winnie said.
Max, however, was not as gone as Winnie had led us to believe, because at that moment he came through the door, closed his enormous umbrella, and walked up to the bar. If a person’s heart can actually stop beating, I’m sure mine did, though I breathed on, smiled and nodded at the appropriate places in the conversation, and pretended I was still alive.
Guy was sitting on my outside and I needed to get past him with a desperation I’ve rarely experienced. I nudged him and he turned and smiled at me as if I were looking for some intimate physical contact.
“I need to go to the ladies’ room,” I said.
“Oh, sorry, of course,” he said. He slid out of the booth.
I didn’t even pretend to go toward the ladies’ room at the back of the pub, but instead went straight for Max at the bar and tapped him on the shoulder.
“Hi,” I said. He did not seem very surprised to see me, but his smile was welcoming. “May I sit down?” I asked. There was a stool beside him and I hoisted myself up without waiting for his answer.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked.
“I’ll have a white wine, please.” Guy had bought me a beer, but I preferred wine. Max motioned to the bartender. We sat quietly side by side. “What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I have a book signing at the Bunch of Grapes tomorrow night.” I usually kept track of who was reading at the local bookstore and I hadn’t seen anything about Max. More silence. Then, “You look good, Jane,” he said.
“I’m the same as I always was.”
“Maybe that’s what it is.” His smile was warm and knowing.
As tempting as it was, this was not the moment to mention that the first time he saw me after fifteen years, he had said I was so changed he would never have recognized me. “I just heard about Lindsay,” I said.
“Can you believe Basil. That dog. Who would have believed Basil had it in him? Lindsay’s turned into a freak for modern art.”
“I guess she doesn’t write anymore, then. Did you ever end up reading anything she wrote?” I asked.
“Of course. I was sleeping with her.”
I laughed, a short bark of a laugh in which mirth was joined with mild hysteria.
“How was it?” I asked.
“The sex or the writing?”
“The writing, of course. I don’t want to know about the sex.”
“Wretched.”
“Oh, Max. Did you think that at the time, or only after she left you.”
“I thought it at the time.” He turned toward me so his knees were touching my hip. Max’s hair was longer than usual and it flopped into his greenish eyes, but he stared out from under it as if keeping eye contact with me was one of the most important things he’d ever done.
“How are the Franklins?” I asked.
“They’re a little shocked by all this,” he said. “Duke’s meeting me down here tomorrow. He wanted a change of scene. He has a book he needs to finish so he checked into a hotel. We won’t see much of him, but I’m glad he’s coming.”
Max’s hand was on the bar. It was the same hand I’d seen on the table at the cottage in Hull, the same hand that would stray occasionally to my knee while we were talking. Max moved his hand to my knee now and I looked down, then up.
“I’m so glad to see you,” I said. I wanted those words to say everything I felt, but they were only a few words and could only say so much.
I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around. It was Guy.
“Oh, Guy. Hi. Max, this is Guy Callow. I think you might have met him briefly up in Vermont.” Guy offered his right hand and put his left on my back, laying claim to me. Max removed his hand from my leg. I turned toward Guy and shrugged him off the best I could, but he was slow to take the hint and I had to do it twice.
“Very nice to have a real chance to meet you, Max. Love your work.” He turned to me. “We’re going now.”
“That’s okay,” I said. “I’ll come along later.”
I turned around and saw that the whole table was staring at us.
“No, I really think you should come now. Must leave with the girl you came in with—isn’t that true, Max?” Guy was mock jovial.
I looked at Max, willing him to say that he’d drive me home.
“I don’t have a car. I didn’t bring one to the island,” he said.
“How are Winnie and Charlie getting back? Are they going to our house or to their bed-and-breakfast?”
“I think they’re going to the bed-and-breakfast. Either way they have to go back to Vineyard Haven. Max, where are you staying?” Guy asked.
“I’m in Vineyard Haven too.”
“How about this? My car is small and seven of us won’t fit, so why don’t I take two trips. I’ll take three people now, and then come back for three more. The rain hasn’t let up and it’s for shit out there.”
“That’s very nice of you, Guy,” Max said. What else could either of us say? Guy was being so agreeable. He was the ultimate manipulator—you couldn’t even see him doing it. He didn’t even insist on taking me first.
“How about if I leave Dolores with you and start with the family?”
“Fine,” I said. “We’ll go over to sit with her.” What else could we do? It would be impolite to leave her there all alone.
Max and I took our drinks and went over to the booth. We didn’t have much to say to each other with Dolores as chaperone. Maybe that’s just what Guy had planned.
When Guy came back to get us, he was all flushed from the cool wind. He loved taking charge, just like that
