just as well for him, too, though he had to admit he was sorry to see Theresa go. In addition to mutual attraction—he hadn’t imagined that, had he?—they had a fair amount in common. As a young woman, she also had thought she might have a vocation and had flirted with the convent much as Teddy had with divinity school. And he sensed that somewhere in Theresa’s past there dwelt a profound sadness or disappointment that she never spoke of, something she’d either prevailed over or fought to an honorable draw. Did it have something to do with her being biracial? Had she been made fun of as a child? He’d thought about inquiring, but if she was generous and trusting enough to confide in him, he would’ve needed to decide on the spot whether to reciprocate, and he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to.
Of course this worm had been in the apple long before Theresa appeared on the scene. Maybe it’d been there from the start. Fixing Everett’s book, helping him get tenure, had looked so much like acts of kindness that Teddy had almost convinced himself they really were. But face it, he hadn’t even liked the guy. Genuine kindness would’ve involved sitting down with Everett and helping him understand what he was doing wrong, showing him how to fix everything that required fixing. Teddy had told himself there wasn’t time for any of that, but truthfully he’d just been impatient, and this, when examined honestly, looked a lot like contempt, maybe even misanthropy. Worse, he knew all too well how he came by it. How many times as a boy had he asked his parents for help only to have them snatch the paper or pen out of his hand and just do whatever it was he needed help with, as if his presence in their lives and incessant demands on their time were just too exhausting for words. Clearly, he wasn’t worth their effort. If he had been, they’d gladly have spent that time with him.
Apparently, this was the kind of man he’d become. Not just odd—Theresa’s verdict—but the sort of person who snatched things. Definitely not the kind you take with you on a new adventure.
So, what next? Retire? With only himself to provide for, he could afford to. Maybe move someplace warmer and nicer than Syracuse. He had no desire to return to teaching when the press went under, which was probably just as well. His department chair had long been resentful of Teddy’s cushy editing job, and with Theresa gone there was nothing to prevent the man from terminating his contract. If that happened, he’d have to find some other way of keeping busy. Possibly as a freelance copyeditor. A lot of books he read these days needed one, and copyeditors weren’t expected to work with writers, just to correct their mistakes and pick the spinach out of their teeth. Necessary work. But was it necessary for him? A whole new endeavor would make better sense, but what? How could he decide? It would be like being asked to choose a college major all over again at age sixty-six. Maybe life didn’t allow you to remain a generalist forever.
When the announcement came over the speaker that the ferry would be docking shortly and that drivers should return to their vehicles, Teddy discovered that he’d edited less than a page since leaving Woods Hole. He might as well’ve gone out on the deck and basked in the soul-warming sunlight. Why the hell hadn’t he?
Outside, the glare was so intense that Teddy, emerging from the relative dark of the snack bar, had to shut his eyes tight. Could it really be this bright, or was the intensity a harbinger of nasty things to come? Sometimes his spells were preceded by general heightening of the senses. At the railing, with one hand shading his eyes, he squinted down at the crowded pier, hoping to spy Lincoln, who’d promised to meet his boat. He’d just about concluded that his old friend must’ve been delayed when he spotted him among the throng. In the nearly a decade since they’d last laid eyes on each other, Lincoln’s hair had gone completely white, and his posture was ever so slightly stooped. The real shock, though, was his companion, the dark-haired young woman whose shoulder he had his arm around. Jacy! Was it the sight of her after all these years or the side of the ferry