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island, the refuge she retreated to in her mind, a promise of hope—as long as she didn’t try to cash in on it.
She pushed open the sliding glass door to the balcony,
stepped out and lit an emergency cigarette. At the wooden
railing she stood overlooking an ocean turned sideways with
the threat of a storm. Loneliness flapping on the wind. The
sun dropping into the water like a bright woman drowning
in a slow surrender to the sea.
Now in more darkness herself, Blue was struck with a sense
of doom, of doors closing all around her. She’d made a mis-
take, she realized, in allowing Jack to open this particular
part of her life again. She’d learned to live without love. To make her need small, store it like a child’s paper valentine in the attic of her mind. Now that she had opened the door, it
occurred to her that perhaps the worst thing wouldn’t be to
go through life unloved. Perhaps the worst thing would be
to have the opportunity for love only to discover you’re too
wounded, too self-protective to seize it.
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HANNAH
Hannah sat with Maya and Renee at the table where they’d
once all chugged cheap beer and played Truth or Dare until
they’d gotten so drunk they ran down to the beach in the
middle of the night—four girl-shadows dashing, so alive with
the universe, claiming the breeze and every star and the shiny black Atlantic as they splashed into it. Whoop! Whoop! They
thought they knew what their lives would be.
Now Blue was upstairs probably hating them all and Hannah
was googling symptoms of Lemierre’s syndrome on her phone.
Sore throat: check
Headache: check
Fever: ?
She turned to Maya. “Feel my forehead. Does it feel hot?”
“It’s summer. So yes,” Maya said without checking. “Now
tell Renee she’s staying for dinner.”
“Renee, you’re staying for dinner,” Hannah said. Maybe it
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wasn’t Lemierre’s. Maybe it was the measles. Vaccinations could lose their potency after time, couldn’t they? But that was stupid. She was fine. She’d been in therapy long enough to rec-
ognize that she probably wasn’t dying, that her fear was simply triggered by the stress of being away from Henry and the current tensions between her friends. Too bad that being aware of anxiety’s source never helped to quell it. Logic was happening in one part of the brain and fear in another and the two sections seemed to have no system in which to communicate with each
other. It made her feel like she couldn’t trust herself.
“I’ll stay until Blue comes back down,” Renee said. “Be-
cause it’s nice to talk with you guys. But then I’m out. You
wouldn’t eat dinner with someone who hated your guts ei-
ther.”
“I would literally light myself on fire and toast a marsh-
mallow off my own burning ass if it meant having lobster by
the ocean with my lifelong best friends,” Maya countered.
“Wow, that’s specific,” Hannah said.
Maya passed them each an Oreo. “And anyway, Renee,
Blue doesn’t hate you. Note that she didn’t even try to kill
me when I suggested it.”
Renee fingered a small silver cross around her neck. Han-
nah didn’t recall Renee being religious when they were
younger, though admittedly she changed interests and beliefs just about every week, so it was hard to keep track. It used to drive Blue and Maya crazy. They hated how Renee adopted
the tastes and hobbies of whomever she was dating—their fa-
vorite music or style of clothes or sports teams. They thought Renee was subjugating herself, letting boys dictate who she
was. Hannah always suspected Renee distrusted that who she
was would be enough. Or maybe she was trying to build a
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self from the outside in. It was hard to be sure because Renee had always been a bit of a cipher.
“That’s a pretty necklace,” she said, reaching out to touch
it. She often wished she could believe in God. It seemed eas-
ier. “I didn’t know you were religious.”
Hannah’s face like she was peering around a shower curtain,
making sure no one scary was lurking behind it.
Hannah smiled encouragingly and Renee continued.
“After my first marriage ended, I was walking down the
street one night, crying, just lost. I didn’t know what to do or where to go or who to call. It was pouring rain and there was this church on the corner with this warm glow of light coming from the open door. I ducked inside to get out of the rain and there was this organ playing and people were singing, and you know that feeling you get when a group of people sing together—that sort of rush of love for humanity? Anyway, I took a seat at the back and everyone near me turned and smiled at me, and it was like… I don’t know… I felt this unconditional love there…like regardless of who I was or what I had done or how
I had screwed up my life, all that mattered to them was that I was there. That was enough. And I just felt this sense of peace that I hadn’t had in so long.” She paused as if she’d revealed something she hadn’t meant to. Hannah caught her eyes and
they exchanged a knowing look. “Anyway, it was incredible. I
felt so…relieved. I don’t even know why. I guess because there was finally an answer. Someone had an answer to what I was
supposed to do. I was baptized like six weeks later.”
“That’s lovely,” Hannah said. “I’m so glad you found it.”
And she was glad the church had been there for Renee, that it had helped her. But also, she wanted to say, Why didn’t you East Coast_9780778309499_TS_txt_277098.indd 142
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call us? When you were lost and scared and didn’t know what to do?
Why didn’t you call your best friends?
“Last time I walked into a place of worship, I was sure I’d
burst into flames,” Maya said.
Renee laughed.
“But Blue goes to church… I think. You should talk to her
about it. At dinner.”
“You’re relentless,” Renee said.
“You miss me though,” Maya said.
“I do. I miss all of you.” She turned to Hannah. “Tell me
about you. What have you been up to?”
Hannah tried to think of what she’d been up to. Worry.
Phobias. Isolation. Loneliness. “Not much,” she said cheerfully.
“Still working on the Great American Novel? You know,
Darrin has a friend in publishing. I’m sure he could get him
to take a look at your work.”
“Oh…ah…nothing that’s finished yet…” Heat rushed to
Hannah’s cheeks, her shoulders hunched over her shame. She
knew she should be writing. Everyone was always asking about
it like they were taking her emotional temperature. But ever
since that night, her mind had turned on her, created dark
terrifying pieces that always ended in
disaster, until finally she realized it was making things worse—the stories she was
telling herself. At Dr. Maloney’s recommendation she’d tried
journaling instead. But every time she stared at the empty
page, she thought, There it is. My autobiography.
“I get it,” Renee said. “There aren’t enough hours in the
day, as Darrin likes to say.”
Hannah could practically hear what Blue’s thought bubble
would be if she were here: Darrin, Darrin, Darrin—puke. But everyone was like that when they were in love.
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“You’ll write it eventually,” Renee said. “Hey, how’s
Henry?”
Hannah brightened. No one ever asked about Henry. She
understood it was too hard for her friends—that like all dif-
ficult things in life, it was easier to avoid the subject. But understanding why didn’t leave her any less alone with it. And
now here was Renee with her warm receptive eyes, asking
after him, treating him like he was still a person to be asked after. “Oh, he’s…” She caught Maya eyeing them. Hannah
often got the feeling Maya had opinions about Henry’s condition that she was politely holding back. She had a good idea
what those opinions were, which was why she let the subject
be avoided. “He’s good. Fine. Thanks for asking.” She smiled
painfully as her moment plunked and sank.
Blue reappeared in the kitchen. Her eyes were small and
red. Hannah didn’t know if she’d been crying or was stoned.
She made a beeline for the snacks.
Mystery solved.
“I’m gonna call Darrin. Excuse me,” Renee said, duck-
ing outside.
“Tell him you’re staying for dinner!” Maya called after her.
Hannah had a feeling dinner was going to be deeply un-
comfortable. She swallowed. Sore? Not sore? Already she knew her obsessive, malfunctioning brain would chew on this question relentlessly. Forever on high alert because of that one
time when she wasn’t. She tried to forgive it, be grateful for its hypervigilant, if misguided, efforts to protect her. But the truth was she wanted a new one.
“So glad you could finally join us!” Maya said to Blue.
“Care for a Funyun?”
Blue grabbed the whole bag, sat down and shoved a fistful
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into her mouth. “Why is she still here?” she said, eyeing the patio where Renee stood with the phone to her ear.
“You’ll be happy to know she’s leaving right after dinner,”
Maya said casually without looking up from the real estate
section of the East Hampton Star.
Hannah marveled at Maya’s ability to spin things. It was
truly a gift.
“Look at these insane houses,” Maya said, expertly changing
the subject. “Ten bedrooms! Who even knows ten people they
like? Hey, Blue, you ever think of getting into real estate?”
“Nope,” Blue said.
“I hear it’s a great investment. You could get a few houses.
You know, smaller ones. Not necessarily here. I’m thinking like… Jersey. Get some renters in them…”
“I already have one job I hate, but thanks,” Blue said.
“Well, just think about it,” Maya said. “I may know of a
place.”
Renee returned and the air was instantly tense and charged
again. It was like a storm front moving in and out. No won-
der Hannah had a headache. She dug into her purse for both
an aspirin and a Xanax.
“Jesus, you got a whole pharmacy in there?” Maya said,
peering into her bag. “Is there a little man in a white coat in your wallet taking prescriptions? Can I order some opioids?”
“No, you’re too happy,” Blue said. “It’s intolerable as it is.”
Renee laughed and Blue looked up in surprise. Their eyes
met. Renee had always been Blue’s best laugh track. Both
Hannah and Maya watched with held breath. Then Blue
pushed out her chair with a scrape and went to the window,
turning her back to them. Renee cleared her throat. Hannah
sighed, resumed her search for pills. She checked the pock-
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ets once, twice. All the bottles were there except the Xanax.
She felt another twinge of anxiety, a discordant pluck of her nerve strings.
“Maya, do you remember where you put my Xanax?”
“What?” Maya said.
“Please tell me you didn’t leave it at the motel…”
Maya swallowed.
Hannah’s panic spiked.
“Nope,” Maya said. “I for sure did not.”
Hannah breathed. It was somewhere around here.
Renee stared down at her phone. “Darrin’s not answering
calls or texts.”
“He’s probably not answering because you’ve already called
and texted and you just left him like four hours ago,” Maya
said.
“I just want to make sure he’s not worried about me,”
Renee said.
“It doesn’t seem like he is,” Maya said.
“No, of course. Right. Why would he be?” Renee said,
with a quick smile. “Anyway, he’s probably just at a movie or something.”
Hannah noticed Renee’s brow still held the crease.
“I should reserve tickets for Sunday’s whaling adventure on
the high seas,” Maya said. She pulled out her phone, tapped at it, scanned the website. “Jeez. This shit is expensive! Well, it is the Hamptons. The life preservers probably have Hermès belts.”
“I’m not going,” Hannah said. “I can shop while you guys
hunt Moby Dick.”
“I will refrain from a hunting dick joke since there’s some truth in it,” Maya said, scrolling. “Anyway, of course you’re coming.”
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“No way. You ever read the story of that guy who got
stranded at sea and ended up eating half the crew?”
Maya didn’t even look up. “He survived, didn’t he?”
“And half the crew did too,” Renee pointed out.
“All set,” Maya said, putting her phone down. “Four tick-
ets reserved.”
“Four?” both Renee and Blue said at once.
“Three!” Maya said. “I meant three. Didn’t I say three?”
Hannah suspected Maya in fact meant four and bought four,
but she wisely kept her mouth shut.
“Now let’s eat,” Maya said. “I say we hit that overpriced
tourist trap on the docks. My treat.”
Hannah’s jaw dropped.
Blue feigned a heart-clutching stumble backward in sur-
prise. “You lift someone’s credit card?” She checked her pockets for her wallet.
“I’ve got a job, remember? I’m very responsible now. One
hundred percent trustworthy with money.”
Hannah and Blue eyed her skeptically.
Maya grabbed Renee by the shoulders and led her out to
the car like she was her prisoner—which she kind of was.
The others followed, and soon they were all buckled
in and
oddly silent, and everything was super awkward again. They
took Star Island Road to the docks where a small village of
shops and restaurants huddled in a corner by the bay. The
dark water panted, casting a slight fishy tang into the air. To the east, the sun’s purple finale slashed the sky where it fell, black night dropping around it. A breeze swept up, warm and
salty as a kiss.
Maya parked the car and the others climbed out. “Hold
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on,” Hannah said. “I’m still looking for my Xanax.” Maybe it
had rolled into the front. Or fell out of her bag in the trunk.
“It’d be easier to look in the light of day,” Renee said.
“I need it now.”
“Well, I’m going to eat the maître d’ if we don’t sit down
soon,” Blue said.
“Go in,” Hannah said. “I’ll be right behind you.”
She watched them leave and then pressed her hands under
the seats. Nothing but the paperback she’d brought and Ma-
ya’s empty candy bag. She searched the trunk.
Please be here, she thought. Please. Her body revved. The night turned ominous, seemed to breathe down her neck.
“Come on!” Blue called from the door. “They won’t seat
us without you.”
A sudden flash of light. That clicking sound.
Henry at the party. Come on! We gotta go!
She blinked hard against it.
“In a sec!” she shouted back to Blue.
She gripped the back of the car, trying to ground herself
here. Solid road under her feet. Dense sultry air and swishing bay and friends nearby.
But it was too late.
Some part of her was back there.
The cops breaking up the party.
Henry desperate to leave. “I could lose my scholarship!”
The two of them running through the crowd to get the
others.
They’d found Blue and Renee lying on lounge chairs by
Check’s pool, staring up at the stars.
“We gotta go!” Hannah cried.
“Shh,” Blue said. “We’re getting a tan.”
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Renee laughed. “She’s stoned. She just told me she thinks
she was a carrot in a past life.”
“She’s gonna be in jail in this life if we don’t get out of