Page 74 of Summer Reading

“Not in an overt way,” he said. “I think she’s counting on me containing my search to old library archives and stuff, which have been a bust, since I have nothing to go on.”

We walked down Circuit Avenue, around clusters of tourists and residents, toward the Ritz Cafe. We’d be lucky if we were able to get in given that this was the hot spot to catch live music in Oak Bluffs—or the whole island, for that matter.

Unsurprisingly, the Ritz was hopping. A rock band was playing, and it was standing room only. Ben and I squeezed in, muscling our way to the bar, where a harried bartender took our order.

“I don’t know how anyone will hear us when we ask about your mom,” I said.

“What?” Ben shouted over the music.

“Exactly,” I replied.

We were crowded up against a wall. Ben put his arm around my front and stood at my back, letting me lean against him while we sipped our beers and enjoyed theshow. The singer was a female. She had short, curly hair and full red lips. She was wearing a glittering dress and high heels, and she stalked in front of the band, her voice a bluesy combination of rock and spoken-word poetry. It was impossible not to bob my head to her groove.

We finished our beers, and when the band took a break, Ben leaned over the bar and asked to speak to the manager. The bartender shook his head.

“He’s not here tonight,” he said. “If you want, I can have him call you.”

Ben handed him a business card. We left our empties on the bar and headed out the door. The night air was refreshingly cool after being in the crowd.

“I can’t say that this feels very successful,” he said.

“We might have better luck in the daytime when they’re not so busy,” I said. “Do you have any weekdays off?”

“I can probably manage one,” he said.

“Excellent, we can hit the older restaurants in Edgartown like the Square Rigger and l’etoile,” I said. “Of course, there’s always Coop de Ville and Net Result in Vineyard Haven, too. We have a lot of places to check out. Don’t give up yet.”

We walked toward the large town green that was the first point of entrance to Oak Bluffs from the ferry. The tall gazebo was empty but kids were running across the grass, and several people were enjoying ice cream cones.

Again, Ben put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close, then kissed the top of my head and said, “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“The pep talk,” he said. “I needed that.”

He looked so forlorn. I just wanted to help him in any way I could. The thought of not knowing my dad, I couldn’t conceive of it. Despite the divorce and his current midlife conundrum, my dad was one of my closest friends. I’d be lost without him.

“ ‘I can’t carry it for you, but I can carry you,’ ” I said. I waited to see if he’d recognize the quote.

“Samwise fromThe Return of the King.” Ben looked impressed.

“Another movie that was better than the book,” I said.

He gasped and staggered, leaning heavily on me. “Heresy! Although I have to say theLord of the Ringsmovies were very, very good.” He straightened up.

“And in all fairness, I never read the books,” I said. “Or listened to them either.”

“It appears you have a lot of listening to do, Samwise,” he said.

The nickname made me smile but the reference to listening instead of reading made me feel dumb, less than, stupid. I felt my gut clench. How long before Ben, too, thought of me as Simple Sam?

In every relationship I’d ever been in, at some pointthe boyfriend of the moment would find the burden of my dyslexia to be too much. It usually happened when the guy was embarrassed that I struggled to read a menu, or a meme he wanted to share, or in one case a grocery list—in my defense, that particular guy had terrible handwriting—and then the ghosting began.

I glanced at Ben out of the corner of my eye. Should I say something or let it pass? I didn’t want our evening to be ruined by my insecurity, and I definitely didn’t want to bring attention to my deficiencies, but I didn’t want to pretend that nothing was wrong. I felt it was important that he understand how much my dyslexia had shaped me.

“I like that nickname,” I said. I swallowed the lump in my throat. “It’s much better than the one I got in high school when everyone found out I struggled to read.”

He stopped walking and went very still. I could see he was bracing himself as if he expected a big wave to hit.

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