Page 38 of Unspoken Tides

Stella draped her head on Hilary’s shoulder. “No dog could beat Jasper. You’re right.”

“But maybe you could make space in your heart for a new best dog.”

Stella laughed. “Maybe I’m too old.”

“Stella, you’re forty-nine.”

“Minutes from turning fifty,” Stella reminded her.

“Fifty is the new thirty,” Hilary said.

Stella snorted, raised her head, and looked Hilary in the eye. The black dog barked excitedly, nipping at his owner’s heels.

“I wish you would tell me what happened,” Stella said.

“I will,” Hilary said. “I’m just still trying to make sense of it.”

“The girls and I have missed you.”

Hilary sighed. “I’ve missed you, too.”

Stella was hesitant. Hilary knew she wanted to probe deeper and ask more questions. But she didn’t want to scare Hilary off.

“Rose wants to have people over tonight,” Stella said. “Would you be up for that?”

Hilary should say no. She should close the black-out curtains, burrow herself back in bed, and let a few more days go by. She should do yoga videos, eat smoothies and consider the basic ways of returning to herself.

But instead, she said: “I’d like that.”

Because she knew the Salt Sisters needed her. And she needed them, too.

Chapter Fifteen

That evening, Hilary returned home, showered, dressed, and did her makeup, then drove over to Rose’s place. Like most of the Salt Sisters, Rose lived in a beachside home these days, one with big bay windows that swallowed gorgeous, sweeping views. Rose had cultivated a gorgeous rose garden up her walkway, one bursting with reds and pinks and yellows and whites. On her way to the front door, Hilary paused to drop her nose into a flower, close her eyes, and inhale. It wasn’t so very long ago that she’d met Rose in the divorce lawyer’s office. She still remembered how wild Rose had been—alternating between weeping and laughter in a way that nearly gave Hilary whiplash. She’d thought: “This woman should have been an actress. But I’m so glad she isn’t.”

Rose opened the door before Hilary had a chance to ring the bell. She beamed and threw her arms around Hilary, overjoyed to see her. As they stood in an embrace, Hilary listened to the whispered voices coming from the back porch. It sounded serious.

“Did something happen?” Hilary asked, bracing herself as their hug broke.

Rose grimaced and folded her lips. “That’s complicated. Can I get you something to drink? I have orange wine. Rosé. White.”

Hilary followed Rose to the back porch, where she poured her a glass of wine. Stella stood to hug Hilary, as did Katrina and Robby, all of whom sat on the side of the table closest to the door. Some of the others blew her kisses, their eyes enormous. Hilary felt put on the spot. They were probably angry with her for ignoring their text messages for so long.

“Hi, everyone.” Hilary raised a hand and then dropped it. “I think I owe you all an apology.”

“No,” Robby insisted, her hand on Hilary’s shoulder. “We’ve been talking. And we owe you an apology, actually.”

Hilary softened.

“We had no idea what was going on, Hilary,” Nora said sheepishly.

“And if you didn’t feel like you could come to us? That means you didn’t trust us,” Ada said.

Hilary’s stomach tightened. “It’s not that I didn’t trust you. I just felt I don’t know.” She wrung her hands. “I haven’t felt like myself.”

“When I saw what was going on, I wanted to call you immediately,” Rose went on. “But gosh, it’s huge, isn’t it? I didn’t know what to make of it.”

“I can’t imagine,” Robby agreed, puffing out her cheeks. She touched Hilary’s elbow. “You should sit down, Hilary.” She said it as though Hilary were on the verge of collapsing.

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