Page 3 of Saltwater Secrets
“Hello?” An older woman’s frail voice came through the line, barely audible.
Aria hurried to turn up the volume. “This is Aria Coleman?” Maybe the woman couldn’t hear her, or perhaps she’d called the wrong number. “Do you need help with interior design? My mother, Hilary Coleman, and I run a business here in Nantucket, but we’re also associated with Sotheby’s and various other interior design firms across both the East and West Coasts.” She parroted the information, feeling like she didn’t recognize her own voice.
“Yes, Aria,” the woman said finally. “It is nice to meet you. My name is Dorothy Wagner.”
The name didn’t ring a bell, although Aria wondered if it was meant to. There were plenty of important people in the world and across the island, important people who expected you toknow their name and why they were “famous.” It was up to Aria to pretend and look it up later.
“Of course, Dorothy Wagner!” she cried. “How lucky we are that you reached out to us.”
The woman chuckled good-naturedly. “I’m sure you’ve never heard my name.”
“That’s not true.” Aria’s heart surged with fear. She’d been called out.
“I’ve hardly left the house in years,” Dorothy told her. “But I was friendly with your grandmother and grandfather, as well as your great-grandfather, before he left Nantucket. Chuck Coleman. A wonderful man.” She didn’t mention Chuck’s affair, but it was implied that she knew all about it and refused to judge him.
Aria told herself to breathe easier. Dorothy was a friend of the family and no one famous. She didn’t want to trap Aria or accuse her of not knowing enough about her.
“I’m sure my grandma and grandpa mentioned you,” Aria said, keeping her smile firm. “The island isn’t so big. I’m sorry we haven’t met before!”
Dorothy was quiet for a moment. “I’ve been keeping tabs on your mother’s interior design work over the years. She’s handled many prestigious projects. She has quite the eye. I wasn’t surprised to see that you inherited her artistry. It must be wonderful to work with your mother. More than that, it must be wonderful to be so close.”
“It is,” Aria said, although sometimes she felt like her mother watched her like a hawk, wanting to say more about Aria’s life than Aria wanted her to. They were best friends, but that didn’t mean that Aria wanted feedback about everything.
“Is your mother with you?” Dorothy asked.
“She just returned from her honeymoon in the South of France,” Aria said. And then she couldn’t keep herself from saying, “She recently married my father, Marc Halton.”
“Your father!” Dorothy sounded joyful. “I did see photographs of the wedding in the paper. Everything looked divine. I wasn’t invited, but like I said, I struggle leaving the house these days anyway.”
Aria tilted her head. There was something mysterious about this woman. She tried to picture her and imagined Miss Havisham fromGreat Expectations, Charles Dickins’s famous novel, which she’d read in high school. Maybe Dorothy was just as old as Great-Grandpa Chuck, who was in his nineties and living in an assisted-living facility on Martha’s Vineyard. It was remarkable that Dorothy still lived in her own house.
“Can I take a message for my mother?” Aria asked.
“Yes,” Dorothy said. “I’d like to leave my number, if that’s all right, and I’d love to invite you both to my home to discuss an interior design project. I don’t suppose you have any availability this summer? I know it’s sudden, but it feels important to me to get started right away.”
Aria remembered what her mother had said, “We aren’t taking any interior design projects until after the wedding.” They hadn’t lined up anything until late autumn and early winter, which meant that technically, they had time. But maybe her mother was too exhausted post-wedding to get back to work. Aria had to leave that up to her mother.
Although maybe Aria could handle this task on her own? She certainly needed something besides Thaddeus to think about.
“I’ll have her call you to discuss everything,” Aria assured.
“I do hope we’ll meet soon,” Dorothy said. “Such a pleasure to talk to you.”
After Aria hung up, she tidied up the office, checked the time, and left for the day. It was nearly five, which meant thatThaddeus would be finishing up his final online class of the day and preparing for his evening shift at the restaurant, where he served fish dishes to tourists and scrubbed the floors late at night. It wasn’t the life he wanted any longer, but it paid his share of the bills while he put himself through school. It was true that he hadn’t decided on a major yet. He was frustrated with the state of his job and because everything seemed so “easy” for Aria, he was often at a loss. Aria wanted to protest, to tell him that it wasn’t so “easy” for her, but she knew that wasn’t true, not compared to him. Thaddeus had been born into an underprivileged family and had struggled ever since.
It made things difficult for them.
Aria drove home with her heart in her throat, trying not to think about what Thaddeus had said.“Are you happy, Aria? Because I’m starting to think maybe I’m not.”They’d been standing in the dining room, fighting furiously about something that neither of them could remember any longer. This had been happening lately, a sort of fugue state opening up that disallowed them from understanding what had led them to a disagreement.
Aria parked in the driveway of their little house, cut the engine, and watched the windows for signs of Thaddeus. She realized she was biding her time, too frightened to go inside. Last night, they’d slept in bed together, but they hadn’t touched at all, and by the time she’d gotten up, Thaddeus was already in his office, attending the first of the day’s classes. She felt cold and lonely in ways that she didn’t want to admit to her mother, nor her friends.
Her stomach rumbled with hunger. She couldn’t wait out here in the car until Thaddeus left for work. It would make everything that much worse. She took a breath and got out.
Inside, she found Thaddeus eating a sandwich at the kitchen counter. It was peanut butter and jelly, a staple from hischildhood and proof he was nervous. His eyes echoed his sorrow and fear.
Neither of them wanted to break up, Aria realized. But did that mean they had to stay together? Did it mean they had to remain miserable for the rest of their lives? She was only twenty-three years old.
She remembered her Aunt Samantha, who’d married a cruel man and been in the wrong relationship until very recently, when they’d gotten divorced. She’d opened herself up to someone else.People marry the wrong people all the time, Aria reminded herself. Her eyes filled with tears.
