Page 7 of Trick of Light

“Everyone seems most surprised by that,” Ben said. “He’s not very popular around here.”

“No. He’s not.”

Memory throttled through Rod. He drank half of the cup of coffee, scalding his tongue.

“You know, he abandoned his family,” Rod said. “After they lost their son.”

Ben’s face darkened. “It sounds like a horrible time.”

Rod felt very stiff.

“But Victor is the reason our house stopped falling apart,” Ben said. “He donated some very old books to us. World War II memorabilia. And he’s been here almost every day, fixing up odds and ends. Rebecca hardly recognizes him.”

Ben spoke of Rebecca as though he knew her. Rod was reminded of the college students he’d been surrounded by. Rod had been able to read them easily. It had always been obvious who they were in love with and angry with. Ben was falling in love with Rebecca. That was clear.

Rod remembered that last January, Rebecca’s husband had died in a car accident up in Maine. He’d learned about that during one of his spring visits to Nantucket. Somebody had mentioned it to him at the grocery store, and he’d felt a horrible ache in his chest. He’d been helpless.

“The others were here, too,” Ben pointed out. “Bethany and Valerie.”

Rod’s knees swam beneath him, threatening to give out. “The whole family. Wow. But I take it they went back to where they came from?”

“Bethany’s in Savannah, I believe. And Val’s in California.”

Rod curled his fingers over the countertop and counted to five. His heart thudded as Ben told him another anecdote about the Sutton family. About the playful nature of Esme and Victor’s newfound friendship and Rebecca’s three children, all on the island, enjoying their first Nantucket summer.

Rod had the strangest feeling that he’d time traveled. He felt out of place.

After Rod finished his house call, chatting with Doug and Ben about how he could help them (not very much, apparently, now that the Suttons had saved the day), he drove around the island, checking in on other clients. Eventually, he met with Samantha Coleman for a brief coffee. Sam was a longtime social worker who specialized in those who struggled with addiction. When Rod had admitted his interest in her career, she’d urged him to go to college and do what he wanted. “We need more people in this field,” she’d said. “Nantucket seems like an affluent and wonderful place on the surface, but so many people are struggling. I’d love your help.”

“Tell me,” Sam said over coffee, her eyes bright, “how is your first week?”

Rod explained what he’d done so far, rubbing his palms together nervously. He did not mention the Suttons. He didn’t want to complicate the situation by giving more space for it in his mind.

“It sounds like you’re off to a brilliant start,” Sam assured him. “I’m sure you feel nervous. But all that goes away soon.”

After they finished, Rod checked his phone to find messages from his daughter. At twenty-four, she hardly ever picked up the phone to call and instead sent an endless stream of text messages. It made his head spin.

Instead of texting back, he called her. Renee answered on the third ring.

“Hey! How’s it going?”

Renee sounded snappy and bright. She’d likely been awake since six that morning, tending to her son and preparing for her work as a marketing coordinator for a luxurious hotel. What, exactly, a marketing coordinator did was beyond Rod. It sounded fancy when she talked about it, though.

“On my way home, actually,” Rod explained. “Finished up all my house calls. Now I have an hour or two of admin and am free.”

“Can’t believe you’re done with school already,” Renee said. “Three years flew by.”

“They always do,” Rod affirmed.

“Listen, I wanted to know about tonight,” Renee said. “Are you joining Felix and me for the fireworks?”

Rod burst into laughter. He’d completely forgotten it was the Fourth of July. As a social worker, he couldn’t take holidays off, unlike everyone else, and Nantucket summers meant perpetual American flag decorations from the harbor to the Historic District. He hadn’t noticed a difference.

“I’d love to,” Rod assured her. “Meet later for dinner?”

“Felix and I request bratwursts and hot dogs,” Renee said. “With extra ketchup.”

Rod chuckled. Felix was much like every other three-year-old. He liked hot dogs, ketchup, and not a whole lot else. Eventually, Rod hoped to help Renee broaden Felix’s palate a little by including vegetables and fruits. They hadn’t had luck so far.

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