“What? They always seemed so . . . obnoxiously happy.”
“Yeah, right,” Hannah huffed. “It seemed like every day, one of them was yelling at the other, or Mom was giving us the silent treatment while Beatrice overcompensated. They also drank way too much. By the end of the first month there, I knew how to cook a huge pot of French onion soup so we could have it on hand. Remède contre la gueule de bois. Their hangover cure.”
“They got drunk and fought? My God! I mean, I knew they could put away a few cocktails and wine, but . . .”
“More than a few.” She glanced at me. “I mean, yes, I had Beatrice to be a mother to me, or at least a cool aunt, but I was still with Mom, and you know how she is. The insults that trick you by seeming like compliments until you find out she’s slicing you up. The nit-picking, the perpetual disappointment, the sheer boredom of being a mother. I never wanted kids, and I think that’s the reason why. She made it seem awful, and I was sure I’d screw it up.”
“She was disappointed in you? You? You were the perfect child! I was the filthy urchin from the woods.”
She looked at me and sighed. “I missed you and Dad so much, but I didn’t think I was allowed to say that. So many times, I wanted to call Dad and ask him to pick me up.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I did, once. Mom didn’t speak to me for weeks after that. The message was received.” She paused. “It’s kind of terrifying to think that your mother can stop loving you. Can just . . . make you nonexistent.” I handed her a tissue from the box on the coffee table. “So I learned pretty fast that I was only allowed to be funny and calm and smart. I kept that up for four years, you know? Because I skipped eighth grade.”
“Oh, I remember. Mom loved to rub that in.”
“Why do we put up with her?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “If she was my friend, I’d dump her.”
Hannah laughed, and Zeus came to worm his way onto the couch to lie on her other side. “Me too. If I hadn’t been such a freak back then, I would’ve stayed with you. I’m sorry.”
“You were never a freak,” I said fiercely.
“Sure I was. I still am. I’m all smoke and mirrors, too. Take away the cool job and the clothes and the lipstick and the makeup and the haircut, and I’m just an unattractive female having hot flashes.”
“You’re not unattractive! Come on! You saw how Ben was flirting with you.”
“He’s just being kind. Believe me, I can tell. I’ve been told.”
“Told what?” I asked.
“That if I was prettier, or shorter, or had a better body, some guy might be interested.”
“Ben said that?”
“No, of course not. He was just a sweet guy who worked for Dad and then got married.” She sighed. “Other men told me. At least four or five over the years.”
“You’re so elegant, Han! You are!”
She rolled her eyes. “One guy walked out when he saw me in the restaurant. Another guy couldn’t get it up and blamed my ‘horse face,’ as he so kindly put it. Toby at the vineyard told me if I was prettier, he’d ask me out. Justin Cardi? We went out once, and he said at the end, ‘Hannah, you’re perfect for me, I love your personality, you’re so smart and funny, but I’m just not attracted to you.’?”
“Justin Cardi, huh? I know him.”
She laughed. “Don’t shiv him on my behalf,” she said. “Though I do love seeing you getting your Portuguese up.”
“I thought you wanted to be single. I really did. You make it seem so cool.”
“Nope. I wanted . . . well, not to be alone.” She shrugged.
“Didn’t you date a nice guy in college?”
“Yep. Steve. He broke up with me just before graduation.” She sighed. “I thought I’d meet someone else, you know? I mean, by the time I was twenty-four, I owned my own business, and it was high-end and classy. I joined the Cape Cod Young Professionals and networked and met people . . . but nothing ever happened. I’ve had three flings since college. The dating pool up here isn’t very deep, as you know, and most of the men I meet are engaged, married, way too old or way too young.” She sighed. “I’m sorry to be dumping all this on you.”
“No! No, I think we’re having a sisterly moment.” I refilled her wineglass. “I insist that you stay over, so go ahead, enjoy. It’s the wine you brought, so you know it’s good.”
She gave a small smile. “I never guessed Beatrice would leave. She taught me how to dress, walk, talk, be. She helped me build my business. She gives me design ideas if I’m stuck. We go to lunch every week.” She swallowed. “Beatrice is my best friend. Kind of my only friend. And I know it’s not the same as your situation with Brad, but I just . . . I feel for us both.”
My heart squeezed. “Well, Han . . . you and I can do better, right? I mean, we can have lunch and stuff. I can even help with weddings.” I thought a minute. “The flowers, anyway. And I can definitely eat lunch with you.”
She smiled. Her lipstick was still perfect. “I’d really like that.”
“I’ve missed you. I’d be so happy to be close again, Han.”
She burst into tears, wrapped her arms around me and cried on my shoulder.
It felt strangely wonderful. A few tears leaked out of my eyes, too.
“Regarding your hot flashes, come see me at the office,” I said, patting her back. “No one should suffer through those.”
“Right? If men had them, there’d be seventeen cures, and Nobel Prizes all around.”
“You are so right.” I looked at her face, now smeary from her tears. “Come on. Let’s go downstairs and make macaroni and cheese.”
“Okay. But only if we can talk about you now. Your idiot ex is having another kid. That must be . . . weird.”
“It is,” I said. “I’m mostly worried about Dylan. I think Brad told him, but he hasn’t called me. And I’ve been thinking about the Fairchilds, too. I wonder if that’s why they didn’t . . . fight for me, I guess. Because they didn’t want to be estranged if Bralissa reproduced.” I hesitated, but since we were doing the sisterly bonding thing, I figured what the hell. “He tells everyone he’s never been happier, and they feel compelled to report that to me.”
“People who are truly happy don’t walk around proclaiming how happy they are.”
“You’re a wise woman, Hannah Silva Chapman.”
“And then there’s that video showing him for the asshat he is.”
“That video gives me so much joy, Hannah. So much joy.” I swallowed. She’d bared her soul to me, so it was only fair that I did the same. “But his life is better now. He lives in this huge house on the water, has a hot young wife, all this money to do whatever he wants. He has a stepdaughter and a baby on the way. The Fairchilds lost me as a daughter-in-law, but they instantly got another one. Even Dylan will have a half sibling and stepsister. Everyone’s family is growing, except mine. My only child is an adult now, and he’s so far away.”
“Well,” she said. “Your big sister is here for you. I have years to make up for.”
It was my turn to sob.
Which did not prevent us from making the world’s best mac and cheese and eating it well after midnight.
CHAPTER 22
Melissa
Melissa had seen Dr. Owens twice since she’d first gone to Wellfleet OB/GYN. Driving to Hyannis took too long, and she didn’t know anyone down there. Everyone in town said Dr. Owens (and Lillie) were the best, and she did want a blissful, calm labor (filmed, of course), maybe in a birthing pool, because the babies got an instant rinse that way and weren’t covered in blood.