Page 42 of Trick of Light

Bethany asked to be transferred to the surgical ward, where she asked the receptionist if Nick was at the hospital that evening.

“I thought you and Nick were taking the same leave of absence,” the receptionist said, sounding shocked that Bethany didn’t know where Nick was. “I assumed you were together.”

Bethany’s mouth was dry. “He hasn’t been at work in a while, then?”

“No. I haven’t seen him at all.”

Bethany thanked her and hung up. Now, her heart rate spiked, and she poured herself a glass of wine and struggled not to imagine the worst possible scenarios. Perhaps Nick still hadn’t left his office. Maybe he’d done something horrible to himself. Perhaps he’d run away.

What if Bethany couldn’t find him? What if he needed help?

“I think I have to leave,” Bethany said. “First thing tomorrow.”

Rebecca wrinkled her nose. “No sign of him?”

“No. I have a terrible feeling.”

Rebecca abandoned her sizzling onions and touched Bethany’s shoulder. “I’m sure he’s just nursing his wounds. Maybe he’s trying to get a rise out of you.”

“I know. But I’ll feel better when I know he’s safe.” Bethany sighed.

The following morning, Bethany woke up at three, unable to sleep a moment more. Because she’d packed last night, she tiptoed downstairs with her suitcase, drank two cups of coffee, wrote a letter to her children, and stepped into the fresh morning air. The first ferry left at four thirty—for those on the island who worked elsewhere every day—and she planned to make it.

Bethany got out and hung over the edge of the ferry as it embarked across the Nantucket Sound. The motor surged beneath the great vessel, and water burst out behind them, creating an enormous wake. The other islanders on the earliest ferry mostly kept to themselves, and many of them didn’t even get out of their vehicles. They were accustomed to the sight of the water this early in the day. Nothing surprised them.

Presumably, they weren’t on their way to figure out if their marriage was still viable. They weren’t on their way to face their husband.

As the ferry pulled up in Hyannis Port, Bethany considered the next several hours of her life. How could she make the drive bearable? She pulled up an audiobook but struggled to put the pieces together within the first ten minutes. Her brain was too frantic. Eventually, she found a radio station that played nineties hits, and she pretended that she and Rod were traveling to Manhattan together in 1997. The weight of the rest of her life fell away.

It took another nineteen hours to get to her home in Savannah—requiring a stop in Virginia at the same hotel where she’d stayed with her children. She ate a salad and had a glass of white wine in the hotel restaurant, listening to the families and married couples around her, all of whom seemed to be having normal, everyday conversations about where they’d driven today, going to the store before heading out tomorrow, or an incident at a child’s school that needed dealing with. Bethany ached with a strange envy. It had been a long time since she’d felt normal.

After another ten hours of driving the following day, she cut the engine in the driveway and stared up at the massive house, remembering the first time she’d ever seen it. She and Nick had been so sure they would fill the place with children. They’d joked about having five, even eight children. They’d imagined having to get an even bigger house.

The house was far bigger than Esme’s place. Ironically, it only held one lonely man, while Esme’s place was currently home to six children, Rebecca, Bethany, and Esme. Sometimes Victor even slept over.

Bethany pressed the garage door opener and walked through the darkness of the garage to enter the house through the kitchen. This was something she came to regret. The kitchen was a pigsty. Empty pizza boxes lined the countertops. The fridge was filled with beer, molding cheeses, and salami. There was a bottle of Jack Daniel’s near the sink—a brand Nick wouldn’t have deigned to drink prior to this “breakdown.” Bethany’s stomach curdled at the smell. It reminded her of Nick’s friends’ apartments back in medical school. They hadn’t been able to keep up with their own filth.

“Nick?” Bethany called, her voice wavering. “Nick, are you here?”

She knew he was. She could sense him lurking upstairs, maybe in his office. His car was here, and the keys were in the wooden bowl by the front door.

“Nick, honey? Are you here?” Bethany sounded pathetic. She hovered at the bottom of the stairs and peered through the darkness. She could hear music—rock music from the seventies. She went up the stairs, hating how much the wood creaked beneath her, announcing her. But she didn’t want to surprise him. She didn’t want to burst in on whatever he was up to. She wanted them to be adults, facing their problems with adult-level education and emotions. If possible.

Bethany stood in front of Nick’s office door. The music was louder than she’d thought, which meant Nick probably hadn’t heard her calls or the garage door. Hesitantly, she pressed her knuckles against the door, took a deep breath, then knocked. The knock rang out, echoing. There was a startled grunt. He turned the music down, then stomped across the office floor to reach the door. Bethany was frozen with fear. She couldn’t imagine what was on the other side, what he could possibly look like. She’d completely divorced this version of Nick with the one she’d married.

“Nick?”

There was the sound of Nick dropping his head on the door.

“Nick, can you hear me?” Bethany’s heartbeat pounded in her ears.

Finally, he said, “I can hear you.”

Bethany was taken aback. His familiar voice offered a direct connection to her heart and soul. Her eyes filled with tears.

“Nick, will you let me in? Please?”

Nick groaned. “I don’t know, Bethany.”

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