Persuaded (14 page)

Derick
paused, probably taken back by her snark. “My point is, it’s probably not the
best place for you to be.”

Surreptitiously,
Hanna swiped the sleeve of her sweatshirt across her cheeks to rid them of
tears, mortified when black streaks came away. “Thanks for the tip,” she said
dryly, retracting her hands back into the cuffs of her sweatshirt and folding
her arms around herself. How many times had she imagined having a conversation
with Derick in the distant future? She’d envisioned countless scenarios of what
she would say to him. One thing was certain: in none of those scenarios was she
still single at twenty-eight, sitting alone on a beach in sweats smeared with
peanut butter, and crying her mascara off over him.

“Look,
I just wanted to apologize for offending you or making you uncomfortable back
there. We weren’t thinking.”

Derick’s
casual use of the word
we
gave Hanna more pain than the incident itself.
As if their being a couple was a certainty, an afterthought. She took a moment
to swallow the sensation before answering in a lifeless tone, “This isn’t about
me. What if CJ had been the one to walk in?” It sounded cheap to her own ears,
and she knew it wasn’t entirely true the moment it left her mouth. But what
else could she say?
Yeah, this really sucks, watching you fall for someone
else . . . I never really got over you . . .

“If
you’re going to act that way, at least have the decency to make sure you’re
behind a closed door,” Hanna suggested, feeling the words tearing up her throat
on their way out.

 “So
this has nothing whatsoever to do with how you may be feeling, after walking in
on us?”

She
looked over, disbelief causing her mouth to hang open. He pressed the advantage
of her speechlessness. “This is purely about you protecting your stance on the
moral high ground and has nothing to do with our history?”

Hanna
threw her hands up. “What do you want me to say? That watching Ella
mount
you was on my bucket list? That I enjoy getting your relationship rubbed in my
face every day? That this is the best summer of my life?”

She
was immediately gratified by his reaction; it was clear that Derick had not
expected honesty—let alone anger—from her. True, Hanna rarely had such
outbursts, but considering the amount of buildup, it wasn’t unwarranted.

“I see
you finally found your voice,” Derick observed coolly. “Any other questions
you’d like to throw at me?”

“As a
matter of fact, yes. You could explain why you never came to breakfast that
day.”

A
muscle in Derick’s jaw surfaced under his skin before sinking out of site.
Apparently he didn’t need clarification on the day in question. “Would you
prefer the short answer or the long one?”

“Both,”
Hanna said, wishing a note of vulnerability hadn’t crept into her voice. But
being on the verge of a resolution that evaded her for a decade made her a bit
desperate.

His
eyes roamed her face for a long moment, and Hanna felt her sun-and-tear-tender
cheeks redden as he took in her disheveled appearance.

“The
short answer is, I was young and stupid, and everything was black-and-white
back then. The long answer is, I heard you talking to Maude that night.”

“That
was your long answer?” she argued, displeased.

Derick
sighed. “Do we really need to bring all this up? It’s not like it matters
anymore.”

The
words twisted the blade in her side. Of course he didn’t care—he’d already
moved on. He’d had a career and a lifetime in between then and now. “It matters
to me,” Hanna admitted, feeling exposed as the words left her mouth.

Whatever
Derick saw in her eyes must have convinced him.

“I
drove to your house that night,” he began in a distant voice, with a faraway
look in his eyes. “The window was open. I heard Maude say that marrying me
would be throwing yourself away. I heard everything she said about me, and I
kept waiting for you to stand up for me. But you didn’t—you agreed with her.”

Suddenly
a film was peeled from Hanna’s eyes. She remembered the conversation that
Derick had obviously gotten only a piece of. “I’m guessing you didn’t stick
around for the end of it.”

Derick
lifted a shoulder, his eyes still avoiding hers. “I’d heard all I needed to
hear.”

So, he
didn’t hear what she told Maude over a cup of tea later that night. He didn’t
know that she came to the restaurant the next morning with a mile-wide smile,
barely able to contain her excitement. He didn’t know that she chose him.

“Was I
wrong?” he asked in a casual tone, as if he were barely interested, but the
stiffness in the line of his shoulders belied him, betrayed the way he was
bracing himself for her answer.

“Like
you said, it doesn’t matter anymore,” she muttered.

“That’s
not fair,” Derick said through clenched teeth. “It obviously matters or we
wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

He had
a point. “We were both wrong,” she said, suddenly not caring about the answers
to her questions anymore. She had gotten the big one, and seeing her weak,
mousy self through his eyes was quite enough self-realization for one day.
Besides, she had already made herself as vulnerable as she cared to be for the
moment.

“If I
had shown up for breakfast, what would I have found?” he ventured.

“Let’s
just say I had my bags packed.”

They
sat quietly for a long time, both looking at the view in order to avoid the
other’s eyes. Then Derick said, “I’m sorry, Hanna.”

What
did he mean by those three words? Sorry for the past? For today? For life’s
having a will of its own and being disinclined to oblige at any given moment?
She couldn’t bear the weight of that “sorry,” so she stood and brushed off her
pants. The need to escape now was only slightly weaker than the one that had
driven her out here in the first place.

Derick
copied her, chaffing his hands up and down his cargo shorts to rid them of
sand. In silent acquiescence they turned and meandered down the breakwater’s
stone ridge toward the beach. A strange sensation came over Hanna as they
abandoned the Lymelight—as if all the turmoil and unpleasantness had been left
at its base, forgotten and untended in the hope of its washing away. It wasn’t
closure, exactly, but a new place to start from.

After
walking in silence for a few moments, Derick cleared his throat and took a stab
at small talk. “You seem like you’re having fun with your nephews.”

The
tightness in Hanna’s chest eased a bit. Finally, they were on verbal safe
ground. “They keep me young,” she agreed. “The boys can be a little energetic
for Mary, though. She doesn’t deal well with them on her own, as I’m sure you
noticed.”

“Do
you mind if I ask . . . is Mary . . . medicated, or anything?”

Hanna
smiled, just a little, before she could stop herself. “She is. Probably a
little overmedicated, actually.”

Derick
shook his head, his eyes widening, and Hanna found it almost funny. “Mary is
one of those people that has to be heard,” she began. “But I can’t figure out
why the kids upset her so much . . . it’s not like she was an only child or
something. We made plenty of noise when we were little.”

“Boy
noise is different than girl noise, though.”

“I
guess so . . . but you’d think she’d be used to the testosterone by now.”

Smirking,
Derick said, “Well, the boys don’t have much of that yet, and I’m pretty sure
Charles’ levels are fairly low, what with Mary’s grip on his . . .”

Stifling
a snort with her hand, Hanna looked up at Derick. He laughed back at her, and
for a moment there was nothing but the sound of their shared levity evaporating
off the surf. How topsy-turvy life was. Only a moment ago it felt like they had
both been chained on the ocean floor.

Hanna
watched Derick for a moment, the way she had not yet dared to. His hair was
very light, like a new strawberry just starting to ripen. It must have been
bleached by the sun during all the hours he’d spent out on the water. Golden
freckles dotted the pale skin of his cheeks, nose, and forehead. Hanna looked
around, relieved to see that they were only steps from the beach.

Derick
scampered effortlessly off the breakwater, then turned to watch Hanna’s
progress. She made it a point to pick her way carefully down, hoping that she
wouldn’t slip in her worn flip-flops and land at Derick’s feet. That would be
the perfect end to the night. But she made it without falling, and they
continued toward Uppercross in companionable silence.

As
they neared the house, Derick slowed. Hanna sensed there was something he had
to say, but didn’t quite know how to get it out. He walked her to the back door
and stood awkwardly with his hands in his pockets.

“Hanna
. . .” he began then broke off and looked out at the ocean. He tried again. “Do
you think it’s possible to start over, after all this time? Do you think we
could be friends?”

Hanna’s
answering emotions swirled within her, like a twister with its hot and cold
currents of air.
Start over
whispered a remembrance of the love they had
once shared, but
friends
stomped on that remembrance like a bug. A
headache began pinging behind her eyes. In that moment, Hanna decided to stop
searching for whatever might or might not be behind Derick’s words, behind his
stormy eyes, and take everything at face value.

Coming
to terms with his offer, she looked up at him. “I think I can manage that.
Friends?” She asked, holding a hand out and noting the appearance of an almost
smile on Derick’s face.

“Friends,”
he agreed, pumping her hand once. “I’m taking the
Laconia
out tomorrow
if you want to come.”

Hanna
hoped her mouth wasn’t hanging open, but whatever he saw on her face prompted
him to clarify.

“Adam
and Sophie will be there too, and Benny.”

Don’t
forget Ella
, Hanna mentally added. She wasn’t nearly as
offended at his making it clear it wasn’t a date as she was flattered that he’d
pointedly invited her. “I’ll have to run it by Mary.” Her sister wasn’t likely
to be thrilled at the prospect since Hanna had been gone most of today.

“I
like to start early, when the water is calmest, probably around six. Will that be
a problem?”

“Not
at all,” Hanna said, wondering if Derick knew that his preference for smooth
sailing had just solved her sisterly dilemma.

“Great,”
Derick said, some nameless emotion ghosting across his face. It was so brief
that Hanna decided she had imagined it.

“See
you tomorrow,
Banana
,” he teased, framing CJ’s appellation for his aunt.
Just before turning away, Derick threw a half glance and a partial smile over
his shoulder. Then he disappeared into the mist that shrouded the path to
Kelynch, leaving Hanna bewildered.

SEVENTEEN

HUMBLE
PIE

At Lyme, he had
received lessons of more than one sort.

—Jane Austen,
Persuasion

When
Derick had gone after Hanna earlier, he hadn’t told Ella where he was going,
only that he would be back. But now the last thing he felt like doing was
returning to the scene of his transgression, so he texted Ella to let her know
that something had come up and he would see her in the morning. He didn’t feel
like going home either, so he pushed on down the beach.

The
carnival was in full swing, the scent of popcorn and roasted nuts permeating
the air. The off-key carousel music, mingled with crowded voices and the calls
of vendors, drowned out all the other noise in Derick’s head. It was a welcome,
numbing sensation. In the bustle he found a place carved out for him, as if he
were walking around in a bubble of invisibility. A place of safety where he
could come to terms with what he’d just learned.

He’d
blown it. Hanna was willing to drop everything and run off with him that day,
and like the schmuck he was, he hoisted the mainsail and sent his phone to a
watery death. The moral absolutism of the young really was a disease; there
should be an inoculation against such stupidity.

Derick
had come to view the past as a filthy, vicious beast, one that he’d stuffed in
a dungeon that he never entered. But he decided it was time. Carefully he
unlocked the cell, eyed the pathetic creature warily, and took a few turns
around it. Then he held out a hand, helped it to its feet, and ushered it out
the door.

It was
time to change.

It was
time to move on.

☼

When
Derick finally got back home, it was fully dark outside. Adam and Sophie were
sitting at the dining room finishing off an apple pie.

“Hey,”
Sophie greeted her brother in a flat voice.

“Hi
guys,” Derick said, trying to sound brighter than he felt.

Sophie
eyed him for a minute. “No Ella?”