1
Nova
I am clenching my jaw so hard that it throbs, and I swear I hear a molar crack. Lucy doesn’t notice because she’s busy clearing plates off the counter. Terra heard the sympathetic comment from Patti though, so she’s watching me and must see my jaw clench because she bounces over like the little, happy sprite she is and announces, “Nova is going to work here for as long as she wants because she’ll always be family.”
Patti blinks, and a look of understanding flashes across her face. Like ‘Oops. I stuck my foot in my mouth’ type look. Yeah, you did, lady. Normally I adore Patti, who runs the local ice cream parlor in Ocean Pines, and I will forgive her for her invasive question one day… probably.
“I mean, I didn’t think you… of course you will continue working here after the divorce. I mean, you don’t have to be married to a Hawkins to work here. And, I mean, he’s not even here anymore, so why would it be awkward?” Patti rambles on, back-tracking in the worst possible way. She raises a hand to her forehead, and the nine hundred thin, silver, copper, and gold bracelets she always wears jingle loudly. “I’m so sorry, Nova. I know a divorce is painful, and I am being… well, I’m being Mrs. Green. God I’m an ass.”
I smile, but it’s tight and forced and probably looks it. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I was married for like sixty days in the seventies, and I tell you, that was still painful when it ended, and he didn’t even abandon me. I left him when I found him getting a BJ from my aunt.” She pauses to take a breath, and Terra interjects again.
“Declan didn’t abandon Nova,” Terra’s voice is hard now. “He left Ocean Pines and his entire family, not just Nova. That’s different. And no one has mentioned divorce. Except you. This is simply a separation. For now.”
“Yes. Of course. Oh my God, I am just so sorry I keep talking,” Patti throws an additional five dollar bill on the counter on top of the tip she already left and slinks out of Hawkins Lobster Shack, her head hanging and cheeks pink.
I grab Patti’s empty plate, which used to contain a California lobster roll, one of my inventions for the menu. It’s lobster meat, aioli, avocado, and a dash of hot sauce. I glance up at the chalkboard menu above the counter while I place the dirty dish in the bucket with the others. I invented about five out of the fifteen different lobster rolls on the Hawkins Lobster Shack menu. I’m very proud of that fact and make a mental note to add it to my resume.
“You okay?” Terra asks me softly because I’m still staring up at the menu board.
I give my head a small shake. “Yes. Fine. Patti is a good person. She didn’t mean anything by it.”
“She really didn’t,” Terra agrees.
I give my soon-to-be ex sister-in-law a brief smile and get back to work. Thank God the restaurant really picks up in the spring and we start extending our business hours again. Declan left me in January, and it was shortened hours and shortened days and long, dismal nights, and it was hard. Really hard. Being busy helps me handle all the changes, so working a lot makes it easier. But also harder because one day soon, my tie to the Hawkins family will be officially severed, and my job could be too. Should be… right? That question has kept me up more nights than I can count.
Like I have for the last three months, I push the question from my mind and concentrate on the late lunch rush. By the time most of the tables are cleared, the restaurant is almost empty of customers, and I’m done scrubbing the last dirty tabletop, it’s almost time for my shift to end. Lucy Hawkins, my mother-in-law and the matriarch of the restaurant and the family, is at the cash register whispering with one of her church friends, Rosemary Adams. I accidentally overhear the conversation as I walk toward the kitchen, and I immediately wish I didn’t.
“I call his cell phone at least three times a day,” Lucy says to her friend. “He has never picked up, and I know he’s not going to. But last week, I called, and the number was disconnected. I… I just want to hear his voice.”
Oh my God I hate this so much.
Rosemary reaches over the counter and takes one of Lucy’s hands and gives it a squeeze. “Oh Lucy, honey, I will pray for Declan and you and…”
Her watery eyes drift over to me. I give her a small smile. “Hello Mrs. Adams. Hope you’re doing well.”
I know Mrs. Adams because I’m the only one in the family who ever went to church with Lucy. Although Charlie Hawkins, her husband, says he is a devout Catholic, he only goes on holidays. The kids, Terra, Declan and the twins Finn and Logan, stopped going as soon as they were old enough to make their own decisions. When Declan married me, I agreed to go with her. My Dad had been fairly religious, and it felt like a way to bond with her. But I stopped in January when Declan left. Too many sympathetic stares during service.
“I’m well, Nova. We miss you at St. Joseph’s,” Rosemary says.
“Thank you,” I say and slip into the back before I can overhear anything else. Or before Rosemary can say something stupid. I ran into her at the grocery store the other night. It was almost eleven and about to close, and I had run over in my pajamas, winter boots, and a parka to get a tub of Ben and Jerry’s. And I mean I ran because I was too tipsy to drive. My dinner consisted of a bottle or Merlot. She was there buying ginger ale because her grandson had the stomach flu. She looked both horrified and sad at the sight of me. Did I mention my hair was fresh out of the shower, wet and wild waves were everywhere and half frozen thanks to the fact that frigid winter nights are sticking around Ocean Pines even though it’s mid-March.
Rosemary had walked over to me and hugged me right there in the frozen foods aisle and said, “Honey, you’ve given up. Don’t give up! You need to clean yourself up. Declan still might come back, and you want to be ready for him.”
I almost screamed. But instead, I just grabbed my ice cream, lied, and said I had tonsillitis and stormed off to the sound of her yelling. “I’ll pray for your marriage and your tonsils!”
The kitchen is bustling with clean-up and restocking after the rush we just endured. My brother Javi glances up from his head cook duties, his brown eyes worried. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine,” I reply and give him a nod. He doesn’t look like he believes a word I say, but he nods back at me anyway. Javi is the only person who knows most of the truth. Not all of it, but most. He knows my truth, that is. My side in all its gory details. Because Javi was just sixteen when my troubles started. They were his troubles too, in the beginning.
I weave my way through the kitchen to the break room where the staff also keeps their personal belongings and where the computer is that we log our hours on. I sit down at the computer and log my hours, and then I let out a long, slow sigh.
“Rough shift?”
I jump and spin in the office chair to face the door that leads to the alley outside. Logan Hawkins is standing there, and his dog Chewie saunters in as Logan closes the door and walks right up to me. He licks my hand until I pat his head, and it’s my first real smile of the day. “Late rush.”
Logan nods. “Those can be brutal. Are you headed home now?”
I nod.
“Because Chloe said she would be done with work in about half an hour. She’s just finishing up a cool website for a company or something. I don’t know. She’s been locked in her office all day,” Logan shrugs. “But she said to ask you if you wanted to swing by and watch movies with her and Aspen.”
I shake my head immediately, and Logan’s face falls. “She’ll be disappointed.”
“I know. I’m just so wiped. I don’t sleep really great, and so the morning shift always kills me, and I covered for Mary, too, who called in sick. Again,” I explain, and it’s the truth covering a lie. I am always tired. I don’t sleep well. I did pull a double because Mary flaked again. But I’m not too exhausted to hang out with Chloe and Aspen. I would love to hang out with them if I was still a part of this family. But I’m not, and I need to start distancing myself.
Logan slips out of his jacket and hangs it on the coat rack with the staff jackets. He’s wearing his Hawkins Lobster Shack long-sleeved T-shirt, which makes me smile. He’s the one who always forgets to wear it. He sees my grin, and his eyes slip down to the logo on the chest and back up. “Chloe makes sure I dress properly now.”
“We should be giving her a paycheck too,” I quip and instantly back-track. “I mean Terra should. She’s the manager.”
“She’s part-owner just like every family member, including you,” Logan says, and I feel worse. It’s not true. They can say it all they want, but I’m not a true Hawkins, and any tie I have to them is days away from being severed. They just don’t know it yet. “Speaking of Terra. She’s graduating next month.”
“I know. It’s incredible,” I reply and stand up, stretching a little and rubbing the small of my back which is aching like crazy from being on my feet almost twelve hours.
“I think we should throw her a party,” Logan says. “Lord knows a happy memory for this family is long overdue. This is definitely worth celebrating.”
“Surprise party or not?” I ask.
“Not. This family only seems to be able to master bad surprises,” He replies and a goofy grin takes over his whole face, which makes him look identical to his twin Finn. I mean they are identical, but Logan spent years wearing nothing but a scowl on his face, so I used to be able to tell them apart really easily. But now that he’s happy and found a way to manage his inner demons, I have mixed him and Finn up more than once. “And if she knows about it, Terra can invite whoever she wants, like her friends from school.”
“Good idea.” Then the smallest drop of excitement lands in my gut and ripples through me. “I can cater it if you want?”
“Nova, we own a restaurant. The food part will be easy.”
“Yeah of course, I meant like desserts. I can do the dessert bar,” I explain, my excitement growing. “I took those pastry courses, remember? And the cake decorating class. And I haven’t had a big opportunity to use my newly acquired skills. So can I be in charge of desserts? All the desserts?”
Please say yes. Please say yes.
Logan scratches his face scruff with one of his big, burly hands. “I don’t see why not. But are you sure you want to take all that on?”
“I most definitely do!” I exclaim, and he looks shocked, so I tone it down. “I like being busy. It helps.”
Also I can take pictures of everything and add it to my website for when I start my own business or apply for a new job. That part isn’t said out loud. It’s not the time. They’re all already dealing with so much, and the pity they feel towards me will make them beg me to stay. Them, being the entire Hawkins clan and all its associates like Logan’s girlfriend Chloe and Terra’s boyfriend Jake.
“Okay, sure. I’ll tell Chloe you are handling the desserts, and I’ll give you a head count when we get one,” he concedes, and I clap excitedly. “That brings me to why I brought this up to begin with. The head count. I want Declan on that list.”
“Yeah. Of course. Terra is his sister.”
Logan looks confused. “Right. So, you’ll make sure he’s there?”
“Me?” I blink. Rapidly. “I don’t know where he is, Logan.”
Logan sighs, short and hard. “But you’re the only one he contacts.”
“Shh!” I hiss and glance at the open door that leads to the kitchen. “You are the only person who knows that happened, and for the record, it only happened that one time.”
“Really?” Logan’s voice is filled with disappointment.
“Yes. Really.” I walk over to the coat rack and grab my own coat. “He texted me once to make sure that everything was okay after that wicked Nor’Easter last month, and when I wrote back everything was fine, he never responded.”
Logan runs a frustrated hand through his hair as Chewie jumps up on the couch. Logan points at the floor, and Chewie whines but jumps down and circles twice before plopping down on the dog bed in the corner. “Well if we get another storm and he texts you again, tell him everything is not fine. Tell him Ma is in the hospital or Dad broke something shoveling snow or that I’m drinking again. Whatever it takes to get his ass back here, do it.”
“Logan, you know I can’t cry wolf,” I whisper back and feel that urge to cry start to build in my chest again. “He may come back because of a lie like that, but he won’t stay. And then if something really is wrong in the future, he won’t believe me. But if he texts or calls, I will tell him about Terra’s party.”
“Thanks.” Logan’s face falls into the look of anguish I’m used to, which hurts. Like with everything, Logan probably feels guilty because his relationship with Declan has never been without its problems. He probably thinks he was a small part of the reason Declan left, but he would be wrong. I wish I could explain. I wish I could tell all of them what’s going on, but Declan’s truth is his to tell.
I open the door to leave. “Oh, and by the way, if there’s another Nor’Easter this late into March, I’m moving to back to California.”
Logan smirks, and I head out into the blustery Maine evening. Alone. Ruby red hues streak the clouds, and a chilly breeze swirls through the skyscraper pines. I take a deep, slow breath, inhaling the scents of salt and pine mingled together, and pull my keys out of my pocket. “Red at night sailors take flight. Red in the morning sailors take warning.”
Declan would mutter that right now if he was here, looking up at the sky with me. And then he’d add that his dad would be out on the boat early tomorrow morning. And I would nod and ask him what he wanted for dinner, and we’d debate our food choices the whole way home, and then I’d cook while he jogged or he’d cook while I caught up on my television shows or Facetimed with my Dad. After dinner, I’d do laundry or go to a pastry or cake course, and Declan would watch docu-dramas or listen to music in the guest room-slash-office. Usually, he heads to be before me, and he always makes sure to turn the heat on the weighted, electric blanket on my side of the bed so it’s cozy when I crawl in.
But all of that is gone. It wasn’t passion and fire, but it was comfort and reliability, and unlike most of the heroines in the romance novels I read, I craved that. I valued it. And it no longer existed. And the worst part is, I don’t blame Declan for it. I don’t hate him. I understand his decision and even respect him for making it. But I do have anger toward him for the way he just blindsided me with it and disappeared. Leaving me alone to stare daily at the pained faces of his family and endure the whispers and assumptions of everyone else in this town.
I start up the car and drive home on autopilot. It’s the same roads I’ve been taking for almost five years. I pass St. Joseph’s Cathedral, which has been the Hawkins’ family church since Lucy and her husband Charlie were kids. Every single Hawkins child was baptized there and had their communions there. Declan and I were not married there, though. We eloped, doing the paperwork at the courthouse. When Lucy found out, she was heartbroken, so we agreed to have a ‘proper ceremony’ anyway. Declan steadfastly refused to do it in the church, so we exchanged vows on the back patio of the restaurant, overlooking the ocean and then had a big party afterward. It turned out to be the best day of my life. To date. I’m hoping better ones will come… ones that stay good memories forever. Those exist, right? I must deserve at least one of those.
I sigh and turn into the driveway of the modest but immaculate bungalow Declan and I called home. The one I need to have a realtor come and look at sooner rather than later. We need to list it. I leave the car in the driveway, but instead of walking up to the long flagstone path to the front door, I head around the side of the house to the backyard to check on Thelma and Louise.
I follow the steppingstones to the penned-in chicken area, avoiding the muddy grass and the very few mounds of snow still left. I opened the door to the covered, insulated, heated pen first thing this morning because I knew the weather would be mild enough for them all day, Thelma and Louise were taking full advantage, clucking and bouncing around their wire and wood enclosure, which takes up half the yard and is high enough for me to stand up in. I open the door and duck to get inside.
“Don’t worry ladies, in a few months, you’ll get free reign over the whole backyard during the days,” I promise.
Thelma clucks. Louise is off in the corner ignoring me. She’s always the standoffish one. I check their coop and find two eggs. After I thank them and make sure they have enough feed, I usher them back into their coop for the night. It’s a ridiculous task. Declan used to love to watch me do it. Said it was like watching someone trying to herd drunk kittens. He hated that I wanted and loved having chickens. Said it made him feel like a hillbilly and was miffed it meant we couldn’t get a pool, but I pointed out we were walking distance from the beach. Besides, he didn’t want a cat or a dog or kid, and I wanted something to nurture. And I always made sure he knew when I cooked one of his favorites like quiche Lorraine or Spanish tortilla that he knew the eggs were courtesy of my girls.
After about five minutes, Thelma and Louise are safely tucked away and I march back around the house and in the front door. The house is so quiet it hurts. So as I peel out of my winter coat and drop it on the floor next to where I kick off my shoes and drop my purse, I call my brother Javi.
“Nova. You okay?” He asks as soon as he answers.
“Yes. Just…bored,” I confess as I wander through the house, which is more than half empty right now. Declan didn’t just take his clothes. He took a lot of furniture too.
“You’ve been home, what? Fifteen minutes?” he asks.
I wander through the living room, which has only a beanbag chair, a credenza, TV, ottoman, and the stained glass lamp my mom made before she died. I turn on the lamp as I pass. The colors it throws over the pale gray walls always soothe me. “Yeah. But you know…I don’t like the silence. Do you want to come over after your shift?”
“I’m here until close. And I have to clean up and everything. I wouldn’t get to your place until almost eleven,” Javi explains.
“I’ll be up. I’m always up now. At first, I couldn’t stop sleeping. Now I can’t sleep to save my life,” I explain and wander through the dining room into the kitchen. I open the fridge and stare at the contents. “This divorced life is a rollercoaster.”
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Javi grumbles. “Thank God that asshole left because if I ran into him, he’d be nursing a broken nose, at least.”
“Javier,” I say his full name to emphasize the seriousness of my statement. “I am not going to tell you again. Do not threaten violence, and do not call him an asshole.”
“I don’t know what I’m more baffled by,” Javi snaps. “The fact that he just walked out on you without warning or the way you don’t hate him for it.”
“It’s not like I haven’t been abandoned before,” I snap back and regret it before the words make it to his ears. Fuck. That isn’t fair. “I mean not that it was intentional, but Dad left without warning too.”
“Yeah, not the same thing at all,” Javi says angrily.
“I didn’t call you to rehash this or to fight,” I reply tersely.
“Well, I’m sorry I’m angry, Nova, but someone has to be,” Javi replies, and the anger in his voice is softening into confusion.
“Do I need to remind you that Terra found me curled up in the fetal position on the kitchen floor the day after he left me?” I reply, and my hand starts to ache because I’m holding onto the fridge handle so tight now my knuckles are white. “I was covered in mascara with swollen eyes, and I’d been there sobbing since I found his Dear Jane letter and the house half empty the night before.”
The line is quiet for a few seconds. “I remember too well. I saw you and… I was terrified. I’ve never seen anyone look so…broken.”
To Javi, I’m the big sister. Older by four years on paper but I’ve always taken care of him like I was his mother. It’s not that he’s immature. It’s that I’m overly mature for my age, and I just always felt like I had to protect him. Our real mother died when he was four and I was eight. Our father then moved us from Mexico to the United States for a better life. We did a few years in California before he got in contact with a second cousin in Massachusetts who could get my dad steady construction work, and we moved there. He was working too much to play the role of one parent effectively let alone two, so I stepped in. I didn’t even think about it, and I don’t regret it. And then, just as I was finding my own way, finishing up college in Maine and Dad had a stable job in Boston and was able to really be there for Javi… it all blew up.
I give up on the contents of the fridge, and I head back into the dining room, passing the near-empty wine fridge and grabbing a chilled bottle of rosé out of it. I sit at the dining room table and pinch the phone between my ear and shoulder. “I’m mad, Javi. I’m angrier than a wet rabbit.”
“Cat,” he corrects, and I can hear the slightest smile in his voice. “The expression is a wet cat.”
“Right. That,” I reply as I twist the cap off the wine. Declan hated that my favorite wine was a twist cap. It was from France for crying out loud, it’s not like it came from the bath tub. “But here’s the thing. Me being angry and calling him names isn’t going to fix the relationship or bring him back. That’s done. And he… he didn’t fall out of love with me on purpose.”
He didn’t fall out of love with me at all. At least according to his letter. Or the six-hour conversation we had a few weeks ago, in the middle of the night. The conversation no one knows about. He will always love me he just…
“Okay, whatever. I’m sorry I get so frustrated by this whole thing,” Javi says and pauses, and I know he’s chewing on his bottom lip because he’s done that when he’s upset since he was a kid. “I just…I’m worried about you, and to be a complete selfish asshole, I’m worried about how this might affect me too.”
“That’s not being an asshole,” I say and stare at the wine glasses tucked neatly on the hutch in the corner of the dining room as I take a sip straight from the bottle. “You have every right to wonder if this will affect your job at Hawkins Lobster Shack. I don’t think it will. Lucy swears we are still family, and right now, she means it. When Declan comes back, that might change. If it gets too awkward or uncomfortable, we will deal with it. Together. And we will be okay, Javi. We always are.”
“I know,” Javi says quietly. “I have to go back to work, but eat something tonight, okay? You’ve lost too much weight, hermana.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I say but my stomach grumbles as if to back up Javi’s statement. “I’ll eat.”
I end the call and wander back into the kitchen after another healthy swig of rosé right from the bottle. I grab what’s left of the sour dough and make a peanut butter and honey sandwich. I walk back to the living room, throw myself into the bean bag chair and flip on the TV.
About two hours after the sandwich is gone, and half the bottle of wine, I change into pajama bottoms and a T-shirt and go back to watching TV. I fall asleep and dream of summer and sitting on the dock in a beautiful dress that feels silky when the warm wind blows it against my legs. I’m watching the Hawkins lobster boat get closer and closer, and my heart gets happier and happier with every inch it gains on the choppy sea.
I wave to the man on the bow of the ship. He waves back and my heart swells with anticipation. I’ll be in his arms soon. I can hardly wait… he is my soul… I need him here near me… And then the man’s face becomes clearer and it isn’t Declan. It’s not some celebrity from a movie I watched or that I had a childhood crush on…. It’s Finn Hawkins. And before I can startle myself awake for that revelation alone, there’s suddenly a horrible sound coming from my feet. A screaming sound. I look down in the dream and see a lobster, screaming this horrible noise lobsters do not make.
I wake up with a start, falling out of the bean bag and realize…the sound is real. And it’s coming from the back yard.