I haven't been to the coast in ages and the walk is only a quarter of a mile away. I make my way through the meadow, past the weeping willows, and finally onto the rugged coastline of Cape Cod, filled with swaying grasses and dunes of sand. The stars are out and the sky is clear for once. But an arctic blast chills me to my bones even though I'm wearing a hefty winter jacket.
I scramble over the dunes, trying to find the path which had been swept over with sand and snow. When I finally get to the shoreline and see a figure walking in the distance.
Who could that be?
This isn't a private beach, but about as close to being private as you can get. The nearest house is five acres away and no one is usually around this time of year, except for my mom and a few other locals.
I pick up my feet.
Gaining ground, she hears me and when she turns back to look at me, moonlight hits her face and I see that it’s Marguerite.
30
Dante
"Hey, what's up? Is everything okay?" I break into a jog to catch up even though she averts her face and speeds up.
“What’s wrong?” I ask when I get to her.
Marguerite’s nose is a little runny, but she doesn't look like she's been crying.
"Why are you all the way out here? It's so cold. I thought you went to bed."
"I can go on a walk if I want. I don’t need your permission," she snaps.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by…” My voice trails off.
She is right, of course. It’s none of my business.
I take a few steps back and let her get ahead, but she turns back on her heels.
"Listen, I'm sorry for snapping. I just needed to leave that house. Your mom is very difficult to deal with."
Marguerite and I were pretty close when they first started dating, but over the years, we sort of drifted apart. The only time we ever saw each other was when they were a couple doing couple things. If I were ever alone with one of them, it was always my brother. Talking to her like this feels a little odd.
"Thanks for coming out…to Cape Cod, I mean,” she says, gesturing for me to keep walking. “This whole announcement would have been so much harder if you weren’t here.”
I nod.
“You like to go out on walks in freezing cold weather?” I ask.
“I need some fresh air and to get my steps in, especially when I'm having a hard day and I can't have alcohol.” Marguerite checks her Apple Watch.
"I just realized this was probably the first time that you've interacted with her without being properly lubricated and that can be quite challenging.” I laugh.
"You have no idea. Plus with the pregnancy hormones, I'm just really out of whack."
We walk for a little bit listening to the sound of our footsteps against the wet sand.
"What are you doing here?” she asks.
“I need to make this phone call that I'm really dreading. Had a little bit too much to drink, so just trying to, you know, freshen up."
"Yeah. That sucks.” She nods.
"Listen, I'm really happy for you," I say, putting my hand on her forearm.
She's dressed in multiple layers and a thick puffy coat, but she still looks small and a lot like the girl I met in college: a little too studious, a little nerdy, perfect for my brother, but not exactly the pristine daughter-in-law that my mom was always hoping for.
"I wouldn't let you do this alone," I say. "I hope that you two remember that when it's my turn."
"Your turn for what?"
"Well, you know, if I ever meet anyone."
"Oh my God," Marguerite says sarcastically, throwing her mittened hand on her chest. "Dante Langston has met someone special?”
"No, I'm not saying that."
I add quickly.
"You have to tell me about her!”
"I don't know what you're talking about," I backtrack, but not too well.
"I've known you long enough. You're like this George Clooney bachelor-type. So to have you even mention that there might be someone that you might bring home and subject to your mother…That’s, God, I feel bad for her," she adds.
We both crack up laughing.
"Okay, maybe I like her too much to do that to her,” I say.
”No, seriously, tell me about her," Marguerite says after a moment.
"She's very nice, sweet. We met at a club. Had this thing where neither of us were really making any long-term plans.”
”Oh, really? You, not wanting something serious? I’m shocked,” she says, her voice dripping in sarcasm.
“I’ll ignore that,” I say with a coy smile, returning to the story. “I ran into her again and we started spending time together. I don't know, I just feel different about her. Like I'm waiting for her to call. I want to text her. I feel like an idiot most of the time.”
”You know what this means, right?” Marguerite says, just as a strong gust of wind collides with our faces. “You’re in love!”
She pulls her scarf up a little bit and I can barely hear her over the howls. I bend my body into the wind to keep it from toppling me over.
Despite what Marguerite might think, I don't think I'd be able to have this conversation anywhere else. Somehow the wind and the noise and all of the physical obstacles make me feel comfortable about talking to her about something so private.
If we were back home with a cup of tea and her eyes were on mine the whole time, I wouldn't be able to be as honest.
"Her mom is really sick,” I finally say, “Cancer. They're trying experimental treatments in Minnesota, but I've read about them and chances aren't great."
"Oh, wow."
"Her brother just died a few months ago. So she's going through a lot,” I add.
"Wow. You know, I wouldn't recommend you start your first serious relationship with someone who's going through so much. Despite how you feel about her.”
"Why is that?” I ask, nodding.
"Because you're kind of a fuck-up," Marguerite says a little too quickly. "You have a lot of issues and if you're not ready for something serious with her, then don't keep her waiting. Be honest. Tell her straight up. Tell her you're not interested."
I push my hands deep into my pockets. She's right. I know that she's right.
"Are you having some doubts?" she asks.
I shrug.
"You are, aren't you?"
"No, I'm not having doubts about Jacqueline. I'm just…you know, you're right. I haven't really dated anyone that much."
It was always a rule of mine to not get involved, not be looking for someone, but maybe it was just that I never connected with anyone before.
We walk a little bit further and the sand gets deeper and more difficult to wade through. When we turn around, the wind immediately dies down and suddenly we don't have to shout to hear each other.
"You know, I wasn't sure if I wanted to have kids,” Marguerite says, rubbing her hands together to stay warm. “I mean, I love Lincoln and you know that we've been together for ages, but I was always really hesitant about children. I wasn't sure that it was something I wanted to do. I wanted to be a doctor and I am one, but the hours are hard. Seeing all that trauma in the emergency room, it takes a toll on you."