Page 44 of Summer Light on Nantucket

“I have not. Haven’t even considered it. You must really like to hike.”

“It’s cheaper than therapy.” Nick put his bottle of water on the table and was quiet. Then he raised his eyes to meet Blythe’s. “When Brielle died, I lost part of myself with her. I’ve never been strictly religious, but I’ve always believed insomething.I don’t think you can be a musician and not believe in something. Those days were so hard, for her and for our sons. It was five years ago. The boys were in high school. I took a leave during Brielle’s last few weeks, but we made the boys continue at school. Jason with sports. Seth with music. They took Bre’s death hard, but they had more of a balance than I did. I was kind of lost. I still taught, but I wasn’t myself. I was a robot. A minimum-functioning teacher and father.”

Nick closed his eyes. Blythe sat with him in silence. No one else was on the deck and the only sound was the cry of the gulls.

Nick continued, “The boys went off to college. I still had casseroles from kind friends in the freezer, but eventually I had to cook for myself. Worse, I had to eat by myself. When I was teaching, I began to enjoy being with the students. I even enjoyed the endless faculty meetings. In the fall and winter, I attended the symphony and other venues where Seth played. The music has it all, the beauty and the grief. It helped. But the summer was long and lonely.” He cleared his throat. “Loneliness is a killer, isn’t it? I was lonely for someone to hold me and laugh with me and dream with me. I miss the touch of loving hands, the warmth of someone else’s skin next to mine. I had plenty of friends and I loved teaching, but at night I was so lonely…”

Blythe was quiet, waiting. Understanding.

“Then Jamie, who taught science at my school, insisted I start hiking with him.” Nick smiled and rolled his eyes. “He told me I was sadly out of shape. So I started hiking. I liked it. The world looks different from a mountain trail. It’s all so much bigger. When you look down from a mountaintop, you can believe anything exists. Plus, it always seems like an achievement. I asked my sons to go with me, but they have their own lives. Last summer I went with Jamie to Scotland. We hiked and drank Irn-Bru and ended our evenings with Scotch. I came home believing in something again.”

“I’m glad,” Blythe told him.

Nick turned to her. “I’ve talked too much. Tell me something about yourself.”

Blythe took a moment to gather her thoughts. “I know about loneliness. I was lonely during my marriage to Bob. We were kind of like workers on a conveyor belt, dutifully taking care of our children. The children were the center of our marriage, and they were happy, but we were miserable. When we began to talk about divorce, it was as if we could see the sun rising after a long dark night. We’ve been nicer to each other after divorcing than we were before. I’ve been less lonely.”

Nick said, “Good.”

After lunch, they walked down to the beach and waded in the cold Atlantic water. The sun was high and strong.

“You’d better take me home,” Blythe told Nick. “I’m afraid I’ll lie down on the sand and fall into one of those snoring, twitching, drooling sleeps that happen when salt air and sunshine combine.”

“That sounds intensely attractive, Blythe,” Nick joked. “I’ll have to bring you out here again.”

Laughing, they walked back to the air-conditioned Bronco. As they rode home, Blythe closed her eyes and simply relaxed in the pleasure of the day.

“Thank you,” Blythe said when they returned to her house. “I had a great time.”

“So did I,” Nick said. “We’ll do it again.”

“I hope so.” She unsnapped her seatbelt.

“And some night we’ll go to the theater or a movie.”

“I’d like that a lot.”

He had such beautiful eyes. She couldn’t look away. “I have to get out of this car, don’t I?”

“Unfortunately, yes. But you can come sit in it anytime you want.”

“And the Greens won’t think I’m odd, sitting out on the drive in your Bronco?”

“No. Because when you’re sitting here, I’ll join you.”

He made her so happy! Impulsively, Blythe moved toward him and kissed his cheek, then jumped out of the Bronco before she did anything else.

Nick waited until she was in the house, then drove away.

—

No one else was home, so Blythe took a cool shower and pulled on a sundress.

She was glad she’d told Nick about her marriage, but she hadn’t told him everything.

Blythe and Bob had had terrible, bitter arguments. They’d always waited until the children were in bed, and they’d always shut themselves into the den, but did they shout? Maybe. Did they call each other names? She wasn’t sure.

Blythe had wanted to teach full-time. Substitute teaching was so hit or miss.

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