that they weren’t talking about.
She stood up. “Right, fair enough. Okay, I should go and do work for a little bit.”
“Oh, right. Andy said you work with journalists.”
“I do,” she said. “I’m transcribing an interview one of my clients did with an extremely famous musician whose name rhymes with…Baylor Biffed. And Baylor has got some tales to tell.”
“Baylor’s got nothing on you,” he said as he went back to unpacking a couple of boxes. “You tell a good story.”
She smiled. “If that’s true, it’s all the years of hearing other people do it.”
“I appreciate all this,” he said as she paused at the door.
“Appreciate what?”
“Just, you know, place to stay. Cereal-box story.”
“Ah. Well. You’re very welcome. If you ever want to see the Claws play, let me know; they’ll be starting up again in the spring if you’re still here.” She paused. “Is that weird? To take you to the game?”
“Because I’m a head case?”
She put her hand up. “Never mind. I’m asking about baseball.” She paused, then nodded. “Okay. I’ll see you around.”
IT WAS A PRETTY DAY for a tree-planting ceremony, Evvie had to admit.
Assertively crisp, she’d call it, though that only made her want a glass of wine more than she already did. Andy met her in the parking lot, and they made their way across the lawn to the stone bench. There was Dr. Schramm. There was Tim’s friend Nate, and there was Tim’s favorite nurse, with whom Evvie knew he had flirted incessantly. There were a few other people she didn’t recognize, maybe from Camden or Portland, wearing fall jackets and sad expressions. And there was a hole with the wrapped ball of a tree in it. All that was left now was to put back the dirt they’d disturbed, like they’d done a year ago on a similar day, in similar company, when they’d buried him.
Evvie found Tim’s mom and dad among the subdued faces. Lila was wrapped in a navy blue car coat, with her mostly gray hair twisted into a bun. Pete had his arm around her, and the two of them were looking at what seemed to be the same spot on the ground in front of them. Evvie went over to them, forcing every step like she was sinking into the grass, even though she knew she couldn’t be. When she came near, Lila stood up and embraced her. “Hello, sweetheart,” she said, hanging on tight. She smelled like roses, as always, even now. Lila had spritzed Evvie with this scent on the night of the senior prom, and on the day of her wedding.
“It’s good to see you. I’m so glad we’re doing this,” Evvie said. Lila deserved for this to be true, and in the moment when Evvie felt Lila rub her back, it was.
“I still can’t believe it.”
“I know. I know.” Evvie pressed her hand to the back of Lila’s head.
Paul Schramm stepped up to them and said quietly, mostly to Pete, “We’re going to get started.”
Evvie and Lila stepped back from each other and Lila sat down beside her husband, who reached up and, with an even smile, squeezed Evvie’s hand.
Dr. Schramm began to speak to the little circle about how they were all gathered for this purpose, in this place, to remember one of the kindest doctors and one of the best men any of them had ever known. Andy had an arm around her, and she leaned against him a little. She was sure there were people standing around this lumpy little dirt ball, staring at a tree that wasn’t even a tree yet, who had drawn the wrong conclusions. About their breakfasts together, and about the fact that his girls would jump into her arms with such familiarity. She was sure there was talk about this, some of it excited and some of it about whether she was moving on too soon, like there was talk about everything else. Why wouldn’t there be? This had to be much hotter gossip than cereal-box racing.
She wondered sometimes if they’d ever thought she was good enough for the doctor. For them, she had gone directly from lobsterman’s daughter to doctor’s wife, and because they didn’t know anything, they figured it was a promotion. This was how she knew without a doubt that reputation, in many forms, was bullshit.
Tim had been effortlessly charming to nearly everyone who hadn’t married him. He was especially good with patients and people he outranked, because they most obligingly did what he