Page 44 of Novel Problems

I opened my eyes and peered down at Hannah. She was smiling into the sun, her eyes still closed.

“Well, now I know who to call when my laptop freezes,” Hannah said, her tone teasing.

I laughed. “‘Have you tried turning it off and on?’ will be about the extent of the tech support I can offer, I’m afraid. What about you? Did you always want to be a writer?”

“Pretty much. As I think I mentioned on Thursday night, I was one of those kids who was obsessed with reading and writing stories. My parents encouraged it but only as a hobby. They wanted me to go into academia or study law, like them. I studied English literature at NYU and did consider trying to get into academia, but my heart just wasn’t in it. I didn’t want to spend my life analyzing and dissecting other people’s writing. I wanted to create something new myself. So, much to my parents’ disappointment, after graduating, I increased my hours at the café I worked at to support myself, moved into a chaotic house full of artists and writers as roommates, and spent all my spare time working on what would become the firstRealmsbook.”

I frowned. While Mom had been disappointed when I decided to leave Florida, at least she’d always supported my career choices. “Did your parents change their minds about writing once that took off?”

“I didn’t tell them,” Hannah said after a pause.

I opened my eyes wide in surprise. “What?! Why not?”

“As you may have gathered from the whole‘I accidentallystarted working for you and then couldn’t get up enough courage to tell you who I was’incident, I have a tendency to shy away from difficult conversations,” Hannah said sheepishly.

“But being a bestselling author is amazing and your books are incredible. Surely they’d be really proud of you.”

Hannah sighed. “Honestly, I don’t think so. As you can probably tell, I’m not close with my parents. Mom is a philosophy professor, and my dad is a professor of law. Growing up, they were always working—writing academic articles, going to conferences, and teaching. It was pretty clear to me where their priorities laid, and it wasn’t me. On the rare occasions they were home for dinner, instead of asking me how my day was, they’d ask me if I were a train conductor about to plow down ten people and my only option was to divert my train onto another set of tracks, in which case I’d only kill one person, what would I do?”

Good lord. Hannah’s parents sounded like the worse mix of absent and controlling you could imagine. And so intense. “Yikes. That doesn’t sound like a relaxing dinner table discussion.”

“Yeah, especially not when you’re four years old and just want to tell them about the dinosaur you drew at preschool,” Hannah replied, a wry tone to her voice. “My nanny, Barb, basically raised me, and I’m still closer to her than Mom and Dad. I’ve called them a couple of times this year, and they haven’t called me back. Honestly, I’m not sure why I even bother. Meanwhile, Barb likes to send me emails in size eighteen font, filling me in on her nursing home gossip, and we FaceTime regularly.” I smiled at the warmth in Hannah’s voice as she spoke about Barb. Thank god she had someone supportive in her life. “All I’ve gotten from my parents since Christmas was an email with theirGreece vacation itinerary. They like to send me their travel itineraries in case there is a natural disaster or something, and they need help being flown out.”

My heart went out to Hannah. Her parents sounded like the absolute worst, pushing her to be someone she didn’t want to be and ignoring her all at the same time. It was rare for me to get angry, but rage at two people I’d never met welled up within me. While I hadn’t been close to my dad, at least Mom had always been there for me, even if we were very different people.

The kayak wobbled, and I peered down to see Hannah moving restlessly, her face serious but her eyes still closed. “I should have told them when I first got the book deal, but I didn’t because I was convinced it would be a flop, and they’d use it as evidence that I shouldn’t be a writer. And then, when it wasn’t a flop, I was convinced they’d say something that would put a damper on my success. They’re the sort of people who only read literary fiction and speak derisively about commercial fiction. And now it’s been five years since I signed the book deal and I’m about to publish my third book, and it feels like the opportunity has well and truly passed.”

I leaned back in the kayak, shutting my eyes again and taking it all in. So Hannah really wasn’t kidding when she said she had trouble with difficult conversations.

“I don’t know your parents, obviously, but I don’t think it’s ever too late to have a conversation. If you explained it to them like you did to me, surely they would understand?”

“Yeah, maybe.” Hannah did not sound convinced.

“So, what do they think you do?” I asked, intrigued.

Hannah let out an embarrassed-sounding laugh. “They think I’m a kept woman. While publishing doesn’t pay very well, my ex’s great-grandfather was the founder of HaynesInsurance, so she had a trust fund large enough that neither of us had to work.”

“Oh wow.” I couldn’t understand why Hannah would prefer her parents to think she was unemployed and reliant on her wife’s trust fund over being a bestselling novelist, but I didn’t want to press. I knew from first-hand experience how complicated parent-child relationships could be.

“Yeah. So in addition to my hatred of attention and public speaking, and the worry over my fans finding the real Hannah Taylor a disappointment, my parents are yet another reason why I guard my identity so fiercely.”

“I’m sorry.” My words seemed woefully inadequate. Hannah deserved better.

“George! Hannah!” a familiar voice yelled.

My eyes shot open, and I sat up as fast as I could, dazed. In the distance, I could see Blake and Jenny paddling toward us.

Goddamnit!In any other situation, I would have been relieved we were finally being rescued from our paddle-less state. But despite my disappointment over how our conversation about the kiss had gone, I’d quite happily spend another few hours stranded with Hannah on the kayak in the sunshine.

I managed a weak wave.

As they got closer, I could make out Blake’s and Jenny’s hair plastered to their foreheads with sweat and their faces several shades pinker than usual.

“What happened?” Blake asked, out of breath. “And where are your paddles?”

“We accidentally dropped them in the water. They were last seen heading down that way.” I pointed down the expanse of blue water, past Sapphire Springs, where theriver wound around the tree-covered Garrison Point and disappeared from view.

Blake shook her head, chuckling. “So you’ve been stranded here, waiting for someone to rescue you? Good thing we turned back early and the current wasn’t too strong.”