Big Summer(70)

“So why give me a fake last name? I wouldn’t have known you weren’t on the guest list.”

He looked down, his expression unhappy. “Because people here know my aunt and uncle, and they know the story. They might not have recognized me, but they’d recognize my last name. It was more than twenty years ago, but out here, that’s like yesterday. The Outer Cape’s like a small town. People talk.”

“So what about last night?” Darshi prompted. “Why’d you take off?”

Nick raked one hand through his hair. From the way it was standing up, I guessed he’d been tugging at it all morning. “Okay. After we…” He looked at me and rubbed his face again. “Um.”

“I know you guys hooked up,” Darshi said. “Cut to the chase.”

He nodded. “After you fell asleep—I wanted to look around, to see if anything was the way I remembered it. I got dressed, and I went upstairs, and I heard a man and a woman in the living room, on the sofa all the way by the far wall, having an argument.”

“What about?” Darshi asked.

“The man was saying stuff like, Just be patient. Stick to the plan, and the woman said, I’m done waiting. I’ve waited long enough.”

I shuddered and wrapped my arms around my shoulders. “Who were they?”

“I think the man was Drue’s father. I didn’t get a good look at him during the party, but I heard his voice, and I looked him up later.” He nodded toward his phone, plugged into an outlet at the baseboard. “The woman, I’m not sure.”

“Not Drue?” I asked. Nick shook his head.

“Not Drue’s mom?” asked Darshi.

He shook his head again. “She sounded younger.”

I thought it over. Maybe the mystery lady was Mr. Cavanaugh’s mistress, some side piece who’d shown up at the wedding to claim her place or make trouble. I’m done waiting. I’ve waited long enough.

“So then what?” I asked.

“I was standing there in the dark, holding my breath, trying to figure out how I could sneak back downstairs, and they heard me.”

I tried to picture it—Nick in his Nantucket Reds and white shirt. The shadowy figures, tucked into the deep couch by the windows that looked out over the bay. The man narrowing his eyes, calling, Who’s there?

“Mr. Cavanaugh stood up. He didn’t come toward me, he just stood there, and said, ‘Get out.’?” Nick gave me a look somewhere between defiant and pleading. “And, you know, I thought, if he caught a random guy in the house…”

“Got it. So then what?” I asked.

“So I ran.” Nick sounded disgusted at himself. “I went down the stairs, and out the door. I had to circle around to get my shoes, because they were still on your deck. Then I went back down to the beach, and I just started walking.” He dragged both hands through his hair and gave a brief chuckle. “Running, actually. I was almost to the top of the hill when I figured, even if I ran for the next three hours, I’d be somewhere on Route 6 when the sun came up. Not anywhere near where I had to be for work, and I didn’t have anywhere else to go. So I just figured. Well.” He nodded at the inflated bed, and his phone, and the book. “I remembered this room. Sometimes I’d hide here when I was a kid. I figured, if someone had recognized me and was trying to track me down, they wouldn’t look for me inside the house. I thought I’d just stay here, wait until the house emptied out, and then try to find you and explain. At least leave a note.”

Darshi made a scoffing noise. I rolled my eyes. Nick must have seen me do it, because he bent down and found a scrap of paper that seemed to have been torn from the paperback. He handed it to me. I moved until I was directly under the bare bulb, which gave me enough light to read what he’d written.

Dear Daphne, I had a wonderful time with you last night, and I’m very glad we met. I am sorry for running out on you, and I am even more sorry to say that I misled you. I told you that I was an acquaintance of Drue’s from sailing camp, which is true. However, I also let you believe I was a wedding guest, which is not true. I would like to tell you the whole story, and explain myself, if you’d be willing to listen. I know this isn’t the most auspicious beginning, but I’d like to see you again. If not, I understand, and I thank you for a memorable evening.



He’d signed his name simply Nick, and written down a phone number.

I read it through twice, flushed with pleasure, even in the midst of my fear. A wonderful time. I’m glad we met. I’d like to see you again.

“Does your family still have a house here?” It was far from the most essential question, but it was all that occurred to me to ask.

He shook his head. “My grandparents sold this place, and the big house, after my mother died. My aunt and uncle sold their place years ago. They made a kil—a fortune,” he said, cutting himself off before he could say killing. “I’ve got an apartment in Wellfleet that I’m sharing with three other guys for the summer.”

“How long were you planning this?” asked Darshi. Her voice was crisp, not unpleasant, but not especially friendly, either.

“I didn’t plan it at all, I swear. The whole thing was a… a whim.”

“I don’t think I believe you,” Darshi said.