Amelia couldn’t say anything. She waited until Blythe was gone, until she was probably already in bed, before looking down at the paper in her hand.
On one side, a drawing: high cliffs framing a stretch of beach and the wide, expansive sea. It was black-and-white, but so finely etched it hinted at color. The water, blue stillness. The pristine, ivory beach. She traced his lines with her finger, imagining him bent over this very sheet of paper, his brow furrowed in concentration, his hair—always too long—falling into his eyes.
She blinked back tears. Was Blythe right?
His words could speak for themselves. Finally. She read them eagerly, her breath in her throat, her pulse racing.
Dear Blythe:
Sorry to leave in a way that I guess seemed out of nowhere. But now that I’m back near the sea, reunited with my sister, there’s no question it was just what I needed. I’m drawing again, finally. This is where I belong. So I guess you were right: it was good-bye. But I do think of you. I imagine what this relentless sun would do to your pale beauty, burnishing it into something new and exotic. If we see each other again I hope it will be here. Though I suspect you are back in the arms of your husband, happily now, I hope.
He signed it Always, Nick. When she was finished, she read his words again. And again. How many times until she was satisfied? She didn’t know. How many times more would she drink in his words? Endlessly. But for now, she closed her eyes, pressing the letter to her chest.
He had been happy.
Amelia, overcome with a sense of urgency, rushed back inside the house. She had to tell Kelly. Kelly, who had been right all along about Nadine, the extent of how unfairly punishing she had always been toward them both. That Amelia did not have to bear the weight of Nick’s death so completely.
She made her way up the stairs, feeling light and energetic. She paused on the second-floor landing, catching her breath before ascending to the studio. Outside the door, she hesitated; she hated to disturb Kelly when she was working, but this was worth it.
“Kel?” she said, knocking. She looked down at the letter in her hand. She still couldn’t believe it! She knocked again. No response. “Kelly?” She tried turning the doorknob, but it was locked.
She knocked again, feeling the first prick of alarm. “Kelly, open up.” She banged on the door, open-palmed, so hard it hurt. She again tried to turn the doorknob, then stepped back. Her whole body had broken out in a sweat.
There was a key to the studio behind the front desk. She ran down the stairs, taking them nearly two at a time, ignoring the pain in her legs. In the dark, she bumped into the living room couch but didn’t miss a step. She reached the desk, breathless, and pulled open the drawers, rummaging through the messy contents, dumping rubber bands and pens and Beach Rose Inn notepads onto the floor. There were a few loose keys, and she grabbed them all.
When she looked up from the base of the stairs, the climb seemed like Everest. Cursing her age, cursing the body that was betraying her as she wanted to leap up to the third floor, she huffed and dragged herself as fast as she could. Hands shaking, she tried the first key in the door.
“Kelly, open up!” She dropped the useless key and moved on to the next one. Mercifully, the knob turned. She burst into the room, rushing blindly and knocking over a chair and a container of tiles, sending it clattering to the floor. “Kelly!”
Kelly, wearing her green cargo pants and NO ONE LIKES A SHADY BEACH T-shirt, was curled up on the small couch near the window. Amelia, less panicked now that she was inside the room, rushed over to her.
“Kelly?” She knelt beside her, shaking her gently. Kelly didn’t stir. It barely seemed like she was breathing. Amelia shook her harder. “Kelly, wake up.”
Amelia shifted position, knocking over a glass of water Kelly had set by the sofa. That’s when she noticed the prescription bottle. Feeling like she was moving in slow motion, she picked it up.
It was empty.
“What did you do?” Amelia shrieked. “Kelly, what did you do?”
Blythe and Marin rushed into the room. “What’s going on?” Blythe asked.
“Call 911!” Amelia yelled, holding Kelly against herself, cradling her like a child and sobbing. She pressed her head down, burying her face in Kelly’s hair, which had come loose from its ponytail. “I need you,” Amelia cried. “I love you. Please, please don’t go…”
Amelia didn’t know what she was saying, she just knew she had to keep talking. She had to keep Kelly with her, even as a man tried to pull her away. “I’m sorry, ma’am. You’ve got to let us—”
Blythe was beside her, taking her by the arms, forcing her to let Kelly go.
Kelly, goddamn it. Don’t leave me!
Chapter Forty-Five
The Church of Saint Mary of the Harbor was, like most everything in Provincetown, just a little bit different, with its rainbow flag and the carved words over the wooden doorway that read WHERE THE LAND, THE SEA, AND THE SACRED MEET.
The funeral was standing room only. Marin and Blythe made their way to the front. Paul, Bart, and Thomas sat behind them in the second row. Paul sobbed, and Marin reached over to hug him.
“I had no idea it would end like this,” he said, his voice breaking.
“Paul, of course not. How could you?”
“The other day? When we were getting high in the studio? She seemed so peaceful. So calm. I should have known she was going to do something.”
“How would you have known?” Marin said, though she too had struggled with what-ifs. She’d combed through every conversation they’d had since Kelly confided her diagnosis; her fear of losing control, her frustration with not being able to work. Her acceptance of the inevitability of death. That this was her last summer. “And even if you had suspected, you know how strong-willed Kelly was. There was nothing you could have done.”
He cried harder. Marin hugged him harder. She wished she could let it all out like that. She could never cry in public.
“Hey, Marin—I’m so sorry.” She turned to find Luke Duncan. She couldn’t help noticing that he sure cleaned up nice. No wonder Rachel was losing her mind over the whole disastrous fling.
He asked her if she’d seen Rachel.
“We took the car over together but I’m not sure where she is right this second,” Marin said. Luke went off to find her, and she felt a pang. She hadn’t called Julian to tell him about Kelly. As much as she wanted him there, as comforting as it would have been to be in his arms, to feel his steadying hand on her shoulder, she didn’t want to want him. She didn’t need him. Besides, the phone worked both ways. If he’d called, she would have told him. But she wasn’t going to beg him to be by her side.
A stately, handsome older man stopped to talk to her mother. He kissed her on the cheek before moving on to talk to Amelia, who was making her way toward the pew.
“Who’s that?” Marin said.
“Just a friend.”