Page 36 of Unspoken Tides

Hilary raised her shoulders. There were so many people in her life she wasn’t talking to anymore. Who could she possibly call? Somebody needed to use the phone.

It didn’t take long for Rose to move into one of Hilary’s guest rooms to get out of her horrific situation with her ex. Rose happily babbled all morning over coffee, went for long runs, helped Hilary paint one of the bathrooms, and created such an air of joy in Hilary’s home that Hilary went long stretches of time, hardly thinking about her broken heart. When Rose eventually got a job and moved into her own little apartment, Hilary made her promise to come over whenever she wanted. “My home is your home. You know that.”

Through autumn and into winter, Hilary, Rose, and Stella met a few other “stragglers,” which was what they called themselves at first. Many of them were carrying heaps of grief. They’d been divorced or were going through one; they’d lost someone important; they were very alone. Many of them were struggling to make sense of what was next. Hilary hosted dinner parties at least once a week, sometimes twice, and invited more and more women as time went on. For the first time since her wedding, the house on Nantucket was full and vibrant. Voices came from every room.

All the while, Jefferson was in conversation with Rodrick’s lawyer in California. He didn’t update her often. When he did, he explained that Rodrick’s lawyer was “respectable but not as good as” Jefferson—and that Jefferson was going to ensure that Hilary kept her “Hollywood gold.” His words, not hers.

By this time, Hilary was so exhausted from the entire experience that she asked Jefferson to hurry it up. “Give Rodrick whatever he wants!” she cried in his office one day. Jefferson looked at her with disappointment in his eyes.

Just before Christmas, the tabloids at the grocery store showed a photograph of Rodrick and the actress with a big red line between them. “A LOOK INSIDE THE BREAKUP,” the heading read. Hilary had to force herself not to put the magazine in her cart next to the Christmas ham.

When Hilary had one too many drinks on Christmas Eve, she got up the nerve to ask Stella what she knew about Rodrick’s breakup. Stella had read up on it—both for her own interest and for Hilary’s benefit, just in case she asked.

“The actress ran off with her new co-star,” Stella said. “Rodrick has been quoted as saying she was too young for him, anyway.”

Rose, who was sitting next to Stella with a mug of hot cocoa, giggled into her hand. “Too young! Men take issue with everything. They don’t know what they want, do they?”

Hilary wasn’t sure what to feel. “Did they say if Rodrick was okay?”

Stella squeezed Hilary’s knee. After a long pause, she said, “They said he’s seeing someone else, too.”

Hilary felt the words like a knife. “Who?”

“Another actress. A bit older than the last one,” Stella said with a sigh. “But remember, Hil! You’re through with him. It’s over.”

“You don’t need his crap,” Rose affirmed.

A few minutes later, Hilary made an excuse and went upstairs to put her face on her bedroom pillow. She felt the weight of the world upon her back. Expecting to cry, she steeled herself, pressing either side of the pillow onto her ears. She waited. And waited. But after three or so minutes, no tears came.

From downstairs came the sound of Rose singing Christmas carols. A moment later, the others joined, their voices filling the house. “Hark! The herald angel sings,” they cried. “Glory to the newborn King!”

Hilary clambered to her feet, sniffed, and set her jaw. She wasn’t going to hide from all the love and joy in her house. She wasn’t going to let Rodrick steal her Christmas. She’d been through enough.

It was one of the most beautiful Christmases of her life. It felt remarkable that it was the first without her family. But she had a new family now.

On the day Hilary signed the divorce papers, Stella and the others threw her a divorce party. It was spring already although that seemed impossible. Birds chirped from the trees, and a soft breeze came in off the sound. Hilary sat on the veranda in a light jacket as the girls doted over her, bringing her snacks and calling her a “free woman.” They all knew the trauma this divorce had caused her. They all understood the ache of her broken heart.

Best of all, nobody was telling her that her pain would be over soon. They knew it would last for a very long time. Maybe forever. But it was a cross she wouldn’t have to bear alone.

Stella sat beside her and took her hand. Warmth flooded through Hilary’s arm and into her chest. Stella was watching their other friends as they chatted off to the side about their personal stories and the baggage they had to carry.

“Isn’t this so nice?” Stella asked softly.

“It’s like a sisterhood,” Hilary agreed. “I’ve never had one before.”

Stella smiled and turned back to look Hilary in the eye. “You’re the heartbeat. You know that?”

“I think that might be you.”

Stella laughed. “No way. It’s a sisterhood with a Hilary Salt core. A salty core, if you will.”

“A dash of salt,” Hilary corrected. “Sisterhood with a dash of salt.”

“The Salt Sisters,” Stella said, her eyes sparkling. “Maybe we need a name.”

“We shouldn’t call ourselves that,” Hilary said, even as a smile played across her lips.

But when Stella called over to the group to ask their opinion, the girls agreed it was perfect.

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