I’d thought about leaving Narragansett. Sigmund would certainly be all for it. But for some reason, I couldn’t pull the trigger. We had already paid for our stay here through the end of the summer—not that money mattered if I truly wanted to leave.
“I have no desire to go anywhere else right now. It’s peaceful here and—”
She finished my sentence. “You’re not ready, because a part of you still wants to be near her.”
I hesitated. “Maybe on a subconscious level. She agreed to see me one more time before I leave and before she moves away to law school.”
“And you haven’t run into her in the meantime?”
“I haven’t left the house much—except to buy taffy and painting supplies.”
“Taffy and painting?” She laughed. “What are you painting?”
I popped another piece of taffy into my mouth and chewed. “Happy little clouds.”
“What?”
I chuckled. “Never mind, Nan.”
“Well, that sounds like a strange existence, my dear. You need to give yourself a good, swift kick in the arse. I realize the pressure your parents have placed on you. And I don’t entirely disagree that you have to follow through with your responsibility to carry on the Covington name and marry someone appropriate for that responsibility, someone who understands our world and can handle the stress. But I wouldn’t be opposed to you doing whatever it took to be happy despite it all.”
“I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”
“As I said before, what your mother doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Someday you’ll marry a woman your parents approve of. But what you do behind closed doors is your own business. Perhaps you can make an arrangement with someone—someone who may need to hide behind appearances as well.”
“Are you suggesting I enter into a sham marriage someday and proceed to live my life the way I want otherwise?”
“I’m just saying…there are options. Not everything is black and white, certainly not in the world we come from.”
While my grandmother’s suggestion was interesting, to say the least, I ultimately concluded that she was crazy for suggesting such a thing. It would be difficult enough to find a woman I cared about who also met my parents’ criteria. The only thing more difficult might be finding a woman willing to enter into a loveless marriage so I could be free to entertain any dalliance I wanted—not to mention reducing someone else I did care about to a virtual concubine.
I had to give Nan credit for thinking outside the box, though. She was a rebel. And creative, if nothing else.
The following evening, Sigmund took off on a weekend trip to Newport with yet another woman he’d met on the dating app. When she arrived to pick him up, he tried everything to get me to go along, but I refused.
Seeing as though he wouldn’t be home to cook dinner, I forced myself to put my paintbrush down long enough to head to the food shop.
It’s a cold reality when you realize that all the choices available at the store mean little because you can’t cook to save your life. I settled on a box of macaroni and cheese, something I’d been meaning to try since arriving in the States, and grabbed a can of SpaghettiOs while I was at it. I’d been spoiled my entire life with personal chefs, and never ate any of the processed foods I’d heard about. Junk food was a novelty.
I’d just exited one of the aisles when a flash of red caught my eye. My heart sped up at the sight of Felicity standing in the bakery section, looking down at the glass display. She hadn’t noticed me. I wasn’t sure if I should say hello or just keep walking. I knew the latter would be wiser, all things considered, but then the universe made the decision for me when Felicity turned and met my eyes.
Her mouth opened slightly. She looked like she didn’t know whether to run or say something.
I smiled and took a few steps toward her. “Fancy meeting you here.”
She let out a breath. “Yeah.”
“Are you buying a cake?”
“Yes, actually. It’s Mrs. Angelini’s birthday.”
“Ah. Very nice.”
Felicity looked down at my basket. “Some healthy choices you have there.”
“Sigmund is in Newport for a couple of days. So I’m planning a processed-food fiesta tonight. If it doesn’t come out of a can or box, it’s not allowed at my party.”
“Looks like you’re missing some SPAM. I think I saw that in aisle five.”
“Thanks for the tip, but I need to pace myself.”
She smiled nervously. “So…how have you been?”
“Keeping busy,” I said, noticing her fidgety hands. “You?”
“Same.”
A long moment of silence ensued.
Although it felt unnatural, I forced myself to leave her be. I assumed it was what she preferred. “Well, pass along my birthday wishes to Mrs. Angelini.”
“I will.”
I nodded. “I’ll see you.”
My chest felt tight as I walked away. I stood in line in a daze, refusing to allow my eyes to search for her again, keeping them fixed on the conveyor belt. The old woman in front of me seemed to have an endless number of coupons. I’d definitely gotten into the wrong line.