Arietta rolled her eyes.
“Really, Mom,” Shannon pestered her. “Go on. Don’t say no.”
Reluctantly, Arietta said she would “stop by” the party before coming back home. She got off the phone and made up a big story about Jasper, about how needy he was. “He said he won’t know that many people at the party and wants someone to talk to.”
“Of course he wants that,” Shannon said.
Arietta grimaced. “You’ll be okay here on your own?”
“Of course!”
“It’s a bit backward, isn’t it? You’re twenty-four. You should be going out with men. You should be going to parties,” Arietta said. “I’m married. I should be home with your father.”
“You’ve been here almost every other night,” Shannon said. “Let me help.”
Finally, Arietta went upstairs to get ready for the party, leaving Shannon on the veranda, sipping her wine and considering the night ahead. With her mother gone, Shannon could go into her father’s study and do what she should have done yesterday: dig around.
At eight thirty, Arietta left for her party, leaving Shannon with the same list of instructions about what to do to take care of her father. As soon as Arietta drove her car out of the driveway and disappeared around the corner, Shannon shot up the stairs and entered her father’s study.
Nobody had been in the study since before Fred’s stroke. Arietta had been doing all the house cleaning herself (which was a rare thing on Nantucket Island), but she hadn’t bothered with the dusting or vacuuming in here, so a thin layer of dust stretched across the desk. Feeling jittery, Shannon sat in front of her father’s desktop computer and searched through the drawers. What was she looking for? In the olden days, people kept journals. They wrote down both the good and the bad things they’d been up to. This had made it easier to pin the blame on people.
But she guessed whatever her father had been up to wasn’t in a journal anywhere. Her father had never been the most introspective of men. He hadn’t read a book in the past ten years, at least.
She needed to get into his computer.
Frantically, Shannon began to dig through the bottoms of the drawers. She guessed that her father was the sort of guy—a Gen X slash Boomer—who’d written all his passwords down. That list had to be somewhere. Unless, of course, Arietta had been in charge of writing down the passwords? But if she’d had his passwords all that time, then he couldn’t have hidden whatever he was hiding.
What on earth was her father hiding?
Shannon collapsed back in the chair and swiveled back and forth, staring at the screen. By now, the computer was on, and she’d made her way to the login for his email, which was probably connected to his calendar and maybe a notes system. If only she could get in. Feeling lost, she decided to try random passwords. She focused on his favorite daughter—Felicity—and typed her birthday, her name, her first name, her middle name, and on and on. She tried Isabelle next, but that was no dice. She tried Arietta, herself, and Shannon, but none worked.
Obviously, Fred hadn’t cared enough about his family to make them his passwords.
Eventually, Shannon went downstairs to check on the man in question. The television in his room was on because Arietta liked to give him something to do while they were out of his room. His eyes were open, but it was clear nobody was home. Shannon sat beside him and squinted at him. “I need to get into your email,” she said softly. “How do I do that?”
At that moment, it smacked her over the head: his phone. But had Arietta brought his phone to Nantucket? It was probably in a drawer somewhere in Boston.
“I want you to know,” Shannon said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I love you. I will always love you. But if you’ve done something to mess up Mom’s life down the line; if you’ve ruined our world for our own selfish gain during your life, I will never forgive you.”
18
When Arietta arrived at the party, she was surprised to find Jasper waiting for her at the front door. He wore Ray-Ban sunglasses, a pair of jeans, and another expensive shirt, and he welcomed her with a hug that made her feel small and cared for. Arietta felt tears fill her eyes. She thought,I never thought anyone would look at me like that again. But she quickly put the thought away.
“I’m so glad you could make it,” Jasper said.
Arietta blushed and followed him into the party, where he introduced her to his best friend from college and his wife, Hilda. Apparently, they were why he’d come here in the first place. Hilda welcomed her with a hug, then whispered in her ear, “I’m sorry to say this. I’m sorry if it catches you off guard, but I’m a fan of yours. Really.” She pulled back but kept her hands on Arietta’s shoulders. “My father died of Alzheimer’s late last year. I read almost all of your articles as we prepared for the end. I can’t thank you enough. You helped me let him go, as strange as that sounds. I knew I needed to let him go.”
Arietta wanted to throw her arms around this woman again. She wanted to tell Hilda that they were sisters in this terror,that she’d lost her mother to that wretched disease, too. But soon, before she could compose herself enough to have a good conversation, Jasper took her by the arm and whisked her elsewhere, to meet other people and drink wine and grab a snack or three. It didn’t matter that Arietta had already eaten tacos with Shannon earlier that evening. She knew she’d lost weight after Fred’s stroke, and she knew she needed to regain some of that weight at least. Snacks it was! More drinks, it was! Often, she heard herself laughing louder than she had in ages. She didn’t recognize herself. She imagined Fred leaning into her ear and whispering, “Calm down on the wine, maybe? People are starting to talk about you.”
It was true that Fred had always been very worried about what people thought. But this was because of where he was from; it was because of his family, his mother. He’d usually apologized for it afterward. Usually.
After nearly an hour of conversation and meeting Nantucketers, Arietta found herself on the veranda, where she spotted Hilary Salt. Maybe she shouldn’t have been surprised to see her, roaming through these beautiful islanders wearing a sensational silk dress. It seemed that she was everywhere at once, that no matter where Arietta found herself, Hilary Salt would be there with a bit of wisdom and a perfect outfit.
“Hilary!” Arietta called. She half expected Hilary to wave and continue her conversation with whoever she was with, but Hilary interrupted it in an instant and made her way over to Arietta.
“I can’t believe you’re here, too!” Hilary said, hugging her. She smelled wonderful. “The newest edition to the Salt Sisters. That makes you a member of my family.”
Arietta laughed, throwing her head back. There was a strange joy in her heart, one that allowed her, briefly, to ignore the blackmail letter at home, one that allowed her pockets ofhappiness. Hilary studied her face, then asked, “I hate to bring this up, honey. But I’ve been worried?”