Page 32 of Waves of Time

“Did she drink something?”

“She says she didn’t.”

Violet grimaced and eyed the ground of the restaurant, which was sticky with beer spills and ketchup.

“I’ll help you, Violet,” one of the kitchen guys called from the kitchen doorway, wiping his wet hands on his apron. “You head out, Aria.”

“That means a lot,” Aria told him as Violet reached out to squeeze her elbow.

“Go take care of your mom,” Violet said.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Aria promised.

“There’s no need,” Violet told her. “Just go.”

Aria went back outside to find Hilary leaning against the side of the restaurant. When Hilary spotted her, she fixed her face, smiling in a way that pretended nothing was wrong, that everything was fine and that she hadn’t run to Aria in the middle of the night like this, frantically, as though the house was on fire.

Reluctantly, Hilary gave Aria her car keys, and Aria got into the driver’s side of the convertible, watching her mother buckle her seatbelt. Aria felt very strange, as though this entire sequence of events echoed what would come in what she hoped was many decades— when her mother grew sick and old and wouldn’t be able to care for herself anymore.

As Aria turned the key in the ignition, the radio played a nineties song her mother loved, but Hilary seemed not to care. Very slowly, Aria drove them through the Nantucket night, back toward their home, where she watched Hilary walk up the staircase to her bedroom, calling out “good night” so quietly that Aria almost didn’t hear her. For hours, Aria sat awake in her bedroom, listening to the house creak around her as the August winds surged. It was only at three in the morning that she got the nerve to text Thaddeus, whose words had burned heavily in her mind.

ARIA: I believe you, Thaddeus. And I’m sorry that I ever doubted you.

Thaddeus wrote back almost immediately.

THADDEUS: I can’t thank you enough.

Flooded with the warmth of knowing someone cared so much for her, Aria allowed herself to fall asleep— if only till the light of the morning awoke her and reminded her of the shock of the night.

ChapterTwelve

Hilary awoke that Sunday morning in her bed, still in her clothes from yesterday. She hadn’t removed her makeup, and her skin felt craggy and dried out. As she made her way to her ensuite bathroom, a memory of the night before crept through her mind, and she winced in the doorway.

At the family party, Sophie and Sam had told her about Aria’s involvement with some druggy, and the idea of that had begun to eat through her brain, so much so that as everyone left Sophie’s house for the evening, she could do nothing but drive directly to Robby’s Crab Cabin to speak to Aria directly. A part of her suspected Aria would go out that night, perhaps even to do drugs, and she wanted to stop her, as irrational as that was.

But on the drive to Robby’s Crab Cabin, her dang eyes had begun to act up again. The bright lights of cars and streetlamps had glowed so horrendously that it had been difficult for her to make her way through the darkness. She’d felt nearly blind. By the time she’d managed to park downtown, she’d worked herself up into such a fright that she hadn’t felt like herself. So, when she’d finally gotten out of her convertible and begun to walk toward Robby’s Crab Cabin, at which point she’d seen a guy she assumed was the guy Sophie and Sam had told her about, she hadn’t exactly been in a brilliant mood. It had taken every bit of strength she had not to bite his head off.

Hilary couldn’t remember everything she’d said to Aria last night. She imagined much of it hadn’t been kind. Still, she was pretty sure she hadn’t come right out and asked Aria about the drug use, as she’d been too afraid of her answer.

But throughout their conversation, Hilary had struggled with the bright spots, so much so that she’d staggered around, unable to look Aria in the eye. Aria, who knew Hilary better than anyone, immediately picked up on it and demanded to drive Hilary home. Hilary had been too exhausted to say no.

Ugh.It was one of the bigger messes Hilary had ever created. And she wasn’t entirely sure how she could have avoided it, either.

In the bathroom, Hilary washed her face and applied retinol, moisturizer, and sunscreen, then put her hair into a ponytail and blinked several times, scanning the tiled floor, the light on the ceiling, and the shower, looking for some sign of those horrible bright bulbs in her vision. It seemed they were gone for now.

Hilary was still too frightened to google it.

When Hilary returned to her bedroom, she found a text message on her phone from none other than Frank Wilmington, which should have made her heart skip with joy but only increased her dread.

FRANK: Are we still on for dinner?

Hilary dropped to the side of the bed and placed her face in her hands, telling herself that Frank was her first chance at a normal relationship and that the beautiful romance they were building was worth all the fear. It had to be.

HILARY: I can’t wait. Seven?

FRANK: Perfect.

Downstairs, Aria sat at the outdoor table with a mug of coffee and a bowl of oatmeal with fruit. When she spotted Hilary, who came out with coffee and a piece of toast, she sprung up, her eyes large, and said, “Morning, Mom. How are you feeling?”

---