this?” Teddy said.
It was late Tuesday morning and they were leaning against Lincoln’s rental car in the Oak Bluffs ferry terminal’s vehicle reservation line. The boat pulling into the slip was half empty, but it would be full going back, more people leaving the island this time of year than coming to it. Yesterday, Teddy had taken the same ferry on foot, retrieved his car from the Falmouth lot and brought it over to the island. Tomorrow he’d call the college and resign from his position there, letting people know that unless they could find a new editor-in-chief he’d be shutting down Seven Storey Books. Later in the week he’d have the English department send a work-study student over to his apartment to gather up whatever he’d need for the autumn—warmer clothes, work boots, his laptop—and ship it here to the island. The apartment itself he’d hold on to until the first of the year, just in case things didn’t work out on the Vineyard. And they might not. He knew that. In the aftermath of a spell, a manic stage often ensued, with bright possibilities everywhere that would fizzle out after a week or two. Something about this new plan felt right, though, and anyway it had been a long time since he’d been really excited about anything.
“Actually, Anita likes the idea a lot,” Lincoln assured him. The Mosers had been on the phone half a dozen times yesterday making a long list of things that needed doing in the Chilmark house before they listed it in the spring. Teddy thought he could handle most of it on his own. He couldn’t do electrical work, and a couple other tasks would likely require two people, but he’d be one of them, and if things went as he hoped he knew who the other would be. “You’ll be saving us money.”
Teddy supposed that might be true, but he also worried that his proposal had caught Lincoln off guard and he’d been unable to come up with a good-enough reason to say no to an old friend. On the other hand, he seemed genuinely of two minds about selling the place, so maybe putting off the decision until spring made sense for them, too. “Well,” Teddy said, “if you change your minds, just let me know, and I’ll clear out.”
“We won’t,” Lincoln assured him. “I just hope…” But then his voice trailed off.
“I know,” Teddy said. What probably worried Lincoln, who’d always been a thorough planner and averse to risk, was that Teddy was acting impulsively, committing to such an important life change without really having thought things through. “You hope I’m not setting myself up for a major disappointment.” He hoped the same thing himself. Exhausted as he’d been the night Mickey told his story, he was unable to fall asleep afterward, partly because his eye was pulsing to the beat of his breathing. When the sky finally started to lighten in the east, he’d dressed quietly and gone out into the kitchen to make himself a cup of Keurig coffee. He was doctoring it when Delia appeared in the doorway. She started to say something, but Teddy put an index finger to his lips and indicated the front room, where her father lay snoring on the sofa. When she joined him at the counter, Teddy handed her his coffee, made himself another and whispered, “Take a walk with me?”
She looked dubious but followed him out onto the deck and then down to the lawn below. When they were out of earshot, he extended his hand. “I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced. I’m Teddy.”
When she took it, he noticed her fingernails were chewed down to the quick. “I recognized you from your photo in the Minerva yearbook.”
Teddy was surprised Mickey still had one of those. Did he dig it out to show her, or had she found it herself in a closet or on some dusty bookshelf?
“Plus he talks about you and Lincoln all the time. I know the two of you a hell of a lot better than I know him, actually. Is it true all three of you were in love with my mother?”
“Yes, it is.”
“So what the fuck was she thinking when she chose him?”
Teddy couldn’t tell whether this was supposed to be a joke or a sincere if rudely put question. “Hey,” he said, “the other two scenarios don’t result in you.”
“Big loss for the world, right?”
“Lose the sarcasm, and I’d agree with