Page 40 of Against the Current

Ryan’s hands were in fists on his thighs. He loosened them out and tried not to glare.

“What about bigger stuff?” Ryan asked. “Grandpa collected so many things. The boats? What are you going to do with them?”

“Oh, Ryan. You know you can take those things out on the water if you want to,” Dana said. “I have no use for going out to sea. I never really did.”

“You used to go sailing with Dad all the time,” Jackie reminded her.

“Until I put a stop to it,” Dana said.

Josh got up to make fresh cocktails, seeming eager to get away from the snippy nature of their conversation. Ryan cupped his hands. The car!How do I talk about it without bringing attention to it?He didn’t know. His head throbbed.

“I’m going out to look at them,” Ryan said, standing up and zipping his jacket to his chin.

“You want company?” Jackie asked.

“Nah. I’ll be fine.”

Ryan shot out from the porch and headed around the side of the boathouse, looking through the windows to see his grandfather’s old boats, stacked up and unused and growing dusty. Ryan’s heart felt bruised. He could still hear his grandfather’s voice, instructing him how to tie up a rope and steady the sails. From the side of the boathouse, he could see his grandmother, father, and mother stationed around the table with another round of cocktails. They weren’t looking at him. Very soon, he ducked the opposite way and headed toward the garage where his grandfather kept his sports cars. But when he reached the garage itself, it was locked, and he didn’t have the key nor the fob to open the garage door. Stumped, he stood by the door with his hands in his pockets, hoping for a sign. Very soon, one of the Sutton’s maids swept out of the side door ofthe main house, carrying three buckets awkwardly. She stopped in the center of the driveway and put them down, wiping sweat from her brow. Ryan waved a hand, and she smiled at him.

“Hello, Mr. Sutton,” she said, which was how she referred to all the men who came by the Sutton Estate, even Ryan’s father, Josh Lewis. “How are you today?”

“Doing just fine, thanks.” Ryan cleared his throat. “I think I might have left something in one of my grandfather’s old cars. Do you happen to know where the key to get into the garage might be?”

The maid hunted through her pockets to retrieve a key ring that she used to open the side entrance of the garage. “How long do you need?” she asked nervously. “I have to lock it up again.”

“Just five minutes,” he assured her.

“I have to dump the buckets,” she explained. “I’ll come back in five.”

Ryan thanked her and entered the oil-stinking garage, turning on the lights as he went. There was an empty spot where the red Cadillac had been, but otherwise, the garage was exactly as his grandfather had left it. Ryan wasn’t sure what he’d expected. Proof of a break-in? Probably the only person who ever came in here was the maid, and it wasn’t her business to ask if they’d sold or moved around some of the cars.

Would the car thief slip through Dana Sutton’s fingers unnoticed?

Ryan left the garage just as the maid returned to lock it up. “Did you find what you were looking for?” she asked.

“I didn’t,” Ryan said sadly. “But thanks for your help.”

He strolled back to the porch to politely decline his cocktail and tell his grandmother he’d be on his way. He had no interest in hanging around the Sutton Estate—not as long as they refused to accept him and his wife. Trisha and Ryan had a life to plan.Maybe that life would have nothing to do with the Suttons. Perhaps they’d be free.

When Ryan got home that night, Trisha threw her arms around him and kissed him. “Did they know about the car?”

“They don’t know anything,” Ryan said. “Maybe my grandmother will figure it out in three to five years. By then, it’ll be too late.”

Trisha wrung her hands. “I wish I could say I was surprised my family did this. But they’ve stolen all sorts of stuff over the years. Once, my brother tried to rob a bank in Delaware.”

Ryan’s heart seized. “You never told me that.”

“He didn’t manage to get any money!” Trisha said, trying not to smile. “He scared a ton of people and ran away when the cops showed up.”

Ryan and Trisha cracked beers and sat on the balcony of their apartment and talked about what they might do next. Ryan took one of Trisha’s feet in his hands and kneaded the knots that had accrued there—from stress? From the horror of the miscarriage? For the first time, they reckoned with the fact that nothing was keeping them on Nantucket Island. Ryan was in marketing and advertising, and those jobs were elsewhere with far higher salary opportunities. Trisha still wasn’t sure where she wanted her career to go. She was good at all kinds of things, but she’d never gone to college, and she was newly fixated on being a mother.

“Where should we go, my love?” Ryan asked softly, willing Trisha to name the next era. “Detroit?”

Trisha giggled and pressed her lips together, thinking. “California?”

“Hawaii,” Ryan said.

“Maine,” Trisha said.

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