Winter Solstice (Winter #4)(69)

“I’m really going to miss you,” he says.

“It’s only two days,” she says. She gives Potter another kiss, longer and very inappropriate for the workplace, then she shoos him out. “Have a safe flight,” she says. “Text me when you land.”

“I love you,” Potter says.

“And I love you,” Ava says. She walks Potter out to the main hallway and waves to him until he disappears around the corner.


It’s ten o’clock that night, and Ava is lying in bed listening to Schubert’s Impromptu no. 3 in G-flat Major on her headphones, her eyes searching out the window for what she imagines to be the contrails of Potter’s plane.

Ava’s phone rings.

Potter? she wonders. It’s too late for it to be anyone else. His flight was supposed to take off at 9:45. He texted to say he was boarding, then again to say he was powering down. Maybe they’re delayed, sitting in an endless line of jets waiting to head to Europe, and Potter is bored and he wants to hear Ava’s voice one last time.

But when she checks her phone, she sees it’s Margaret calling.

“Mom?” Ava says.

“Oh, honey,” Margaret says.





BART


When he and Allegra have been dating for six weeks and three days, Bart receives an e-mail from the Marine Corps, and suddenly, Bart realizes, he and Allegra have to have a conversation about the future.

He takes Allegra to dinner at the Greydon House, and they are seated at one of the tucked-away tables in the bar. The Greydon House is the new hot spot on Nantucket; Bart remembers when it was his dentist’s office. It has been reimagined as a hotel and fine restaurant. The bar is dark paneled, the lighting is low, the furniture is ornate, and the overall effect is one of an exclusive club. Allegra mentioned that she has always wanted to come here, and since Bart is now in the business of Allegra wish fulfillment, he has brought her here for dinner.

He orders a cocktail called the Grey Lady, which is served in a cod-shaped mug. Normally, he doesn’t drink around Allegra, but tonight he needs to share his news and he’s not sure how he’s going to handle it.

“I got an e-mail today,” Bart says. “I’ve been approved for officer training. I report to Camp Lejeune on January thirtieth.”

Allegra nods slowly. “Where is Camp Lejeune?”

“It’s in North Carolina,” Bart says.

Allegra stares at her salad. It’s baby greens with all kinds of treasures hiding—radishes, roasted beets, pumpkin seeds. Meanwhile, Bart got the lobster bisque, which the server poured out of a pewter pitcher tableside. The food here is artwork.

“So you’re leaving?” Allegra says. “You’re leaving Nantucket?”

Bart reaches for Allegra’s hand under the table. They have been so caught up in each other, so busy enjoying the present and learning about each other’s past, that the future hasn’t mattered. But Bart did tell Allegra he wanted to go to officer training school. He told her at the very beginning, that first night at his party. Right? It seems so long ago now; Bart can’t remember. Bart’s positive he told her. She probably heard him but didn’t think twice about it because she didn’t realize they would fall so deeply, desperately in love.

They’ve been together six weeks. Six weeks from now Bart is leaving for North Carolina.

“I want you to come with me,” he says.

“You do?” she says.

“I do. You can live with me on the base. You can get a job. You can take real estate classes. We can be together.”

Allegra hunts through her salad like she’s looking for the answer there. Bart is waiting for her to say she won’t go or can’t go or she doesn’t want to. She’s happy on Nantucket, she has a job, she’s comfortable. Bart will try to explain that being uncomfortable is what helps you to grow. Allegra needs to leave Nantucket and get out of her parents’ house—maybe even more than Bart does.

Bart is so sure that Allegra is the woman for him that he won’t be told otherwise. Over Thanksgiving, Patrick pulled him aside and told him to “be careful.” Patrick said that things between Bart and Allegra seemed to be moving “a little fast.”

Patrick said, “Dad can’t exactly give you advice, so I’m going to.”

Bart was even-keeled with Patrick instead of punching his lights out, which was what Bart wanted to do. Patrick had always been Bart’s favorite brother, and all the times when Patrick had acted as a surrogate father, Bart had been grateful. Paddy was younger than Kelley, and way cooler. But Bart is a grown man now. He has endured things Patrick can’t fathom. Bart isn’t going to have Paddy tell him how to live his life.

Patrick does have a good marriage. Bart will give him that.

Long ago Kelley told Bart way more than Bart wanted to know about Kelley’s own marriages. Kelley and Margaret had loved each other, but they had lived in a pressure cooker. “It was Manhattan in the nineties,” Kelley said by way of explanation, but Bart had no idea what that meant. Ultimately, the relationship had proven unsustainable. “That sometimes happens when you get married too young,” Kelley said.

Bart is sensible enough to realize that his relationship with Allegra might not pan out. Allegra might be miserable, unfulfilled; she might prefer one of Bart’s superiors—or subordinates—to Bart. He knows there are risks. But he also knows that some relationships between young people do weather the storm. It takes hard work, dedication—and good luck. Bart feels like he’s due some good luck; he has had enough bad luck to last a lifetime.