Page 11 of Saltwater Secrets
But she’d never imagined Aria would act like this.
“It’s the hardest day,” Hilary said, hoping it was. “Thaddeus just left, and she’s trying to figure herself out. But I think by tomorrow, she’ll be right as rain.”
Dorothy sighed and gazed out the window. It was impossible to know what she was thinking about. Hilary had to guess it was her late husband. Perhaps she still felt an ache, a love for him that she couldn’t escape. Perhaps it haunted her, the way Thaddeus haunted Aria.
And then Dorothy said, “I have another property. Another property that I’d liked to have redesigned.”
Hilary hadn’t seen that coming. But who was she to ever turn down more work?
“That’s incredible,” Hilary said, preparing a stream of further questions, questions that she needed to record on her phone. She needed to know if this other redesign should remain in line with what they were doing at the main house. Where was the other property? Was there a relevant timeline for both? Also, why on earth did a woman who never left her house have another property at all?
What question needed to be asked first?
“I think Aria should work on it,” Dorothy said, before Hilary had a chance to speak. “I think she should go there and throw herself into it and forget about this man.”
Hilary was surprised. More than that, she felt a hollowness in her chest at the prospect of Aria leaving her. First Marc, now this?Don’t be a baby, Hilary. It won’t be forever.
“Where is this other property?” Hilary asked.
Dorothy turned her head and looked her dead in the eye. “It’s the place where I once most felt like myself. The place where I found myself, so to speak.”
Hilary waited. There was an enormous mystery behind what Dorothy said. She was hinting at a dramatic past—one that might or might not be revealed.
“It’s in Manhattan,” she continued. “Greenwich Village.”
Hilary didn’t let her disappointment show on her face. “You have an apartment in Greenwich Village. That’s incredible. How long have you had it?”
Dorothy waved her hand. “Since the eighties. We got it first for my husband. He needed to spend more time in the city back then. The stock market was booming, and he needed to schmooze with city folks.”
“And you were here?” Hilary asked.
“During that time, yes,” Dorothy said. “But I used the apartment later on.”
Again, Hilary felt that exhilarating mystery. She took a breath.
“I think Aria should go to the city and see the apartment for herself,” Dorothy said again, her voice gaining confidence. “I have a feeling about that girl. She has a gorgeous eye for detail.”
“She does.” Hilary filled her lungs.
“She’ll go as soon as possible.” Dorothy threw up her hands. “I want work to begin immediately.” When she looked at Hilary, her eyes were like two black dots.
Suddenly, Aria returned to the parlor, wringing her hands and spinning apologies.
“Darling, don’t worry about any of that,” Dorothy said. “But please. Sit down. I have a proposition for you. Before I say anything, I want to say that I think you should take it. I’ve seen what can happen when women let their hearts break beyond repair. I’ve seen it happen to me, and I won’t let it happen to you. Do you understand?”
Chapter Six
Aria insisted on going to Manhattan on her own. She was tired of her mother looking at her like she was a bird with a broken wing, hobbling around, looking for a ledge to jump off. Thaddeus was gone—he’d been gone for an entire week by the time she left—and Aria had to find a way forward. With Thaddeus’s email permission, she’d found someone to sublet the house in Nantucket, a mother, father, and toddler not so much older than Aria and Thaddeus. She’d packed up the belongings she needed, put the rest in storage, and driven off for Greenwich Village.
When Aria reached Greenwich Village, she found the city teeming with life. Beautifully dressed city dwellers roamed the sidewalks, their haircuts asymmetrical and interesting, their outfits like something out of her mother’sVogue. If Aria was going to fit in here, she knew she needed to get a new wardrobe. She needed to re-assess her “island vibe” and become someone different. But that was what Dorothy wanted her to do. She wanted Aria to stop with the heartbreak routine and find a new “self.”
Dorothy had given Aria a key to the apartment. In Aria’s hand, the golden key looked like something ancient and noble,as though it were meant to open an old treasure chest. Aria entered the brownstone. It was like she entered another era of Dorothy’s life—a life neither she nor her mother knew anything about.
It looked like the apartment had been frozen in time. The decor was out of the 1950s, maybe, and the sofas were hideous. Monstera plants grew delicious green leaves that reflected green-tinted sunlight on the hardwood floor. There was no sign of technology—no internet and no phone—which gave Aria pause. She’d be staying here for a while to refurbish everything, giving it a refined and modern edge, and for that, she’d need internet. For now, she guessed she’d use her data plan.
She sat on the harsh dark-brown sofa and rested her hands on her thighs. There were moments in life that felt particularly lonely. Here, so far from her mother and so far from Thaddeus, she felt like an island.
Before she went back to the car to collect her things, Aria allowed herself a moment on Thaddeus’s social media. There, he’d been posting videos and photos of his first week in London. In one, he was drinking at a pub called the Red Lion. In another, he had his arms slung over the shoulders of two people who must be his new classmates. One was a woman, which Aria told herself didn’t matter. But it did matter. Her heart seized. She threw her phone to the far end of the sofa and wondered how in the world she could manage this project on her own.
