“What?” Elise asked with a laugh.
“I’ve given this a great deal of thought,” Moira began. “It’s not a rash decision. But I’ve made up my mind.” She smiled pensively. “I know what I’m going to do.” She handed the papers to Elise.
Shifting her weight on the mattress, Elise held them closer to the light on the bedside table. She looked up, questioning. “This is an application to veterinary school.”
Moira nodded. “Yes. I’m applying again. I talked to the admissions department. Because I’d applied before and was accepted, they don’t feel I will have any difficulties getting accepted again.”
Elise was shocked. “You were accepted?” When Moira nodded, she added indignantly, “And you didn’t go?”
“Water under the bridge. I’m going now. That, my dear friend, is the salient point.” She brought her hands together. “Oh, Elise, I feel like my old self! So full of purpose. I’m bursting with enthusiasm. I can’t wait to go back to school. To study. Oh. My. God.” She turned and fell back on her pillows with a plop. “I can’t tell you how good it feels to know what I want. It’s empowering. I want to dance in the streets, shout it out from the rooftops.” She laughed and kicked her legs. “I’m back, baby!”
Elise laughed, happy to see her friend so full of life again, so full of purpose. But even as she smiled, deep inside she felt a pain that shamed her. Jealousy. She wanted to feel that sense of purpose, that excitement for tomorrow. For the last couple of days, she’d felt closer to Moira because they were both going through the same malaise. She hadn’t felt so alone, so out of step, knowing that they were both lost. Now, once again, Moira was pulling ahead. She’d grabbed her brass ring and was going full-out to win. And again, Elise felt left behind.
“Elise?” Moira’s smile slipped as she rose up on her elbow to look closer at Elise’s face. “Are you crying?”
“No,” Elise said with a huff, wiping her eyes. “I’m just happy for you.”
Moira rose to grab Elise’s shoulders and give them a gentle shake. “But you’re upset. What’s the matter?”
“Nothing’s the matter. At least, nothing I can name. It’s just . . .” Elise shrugged, embarrassed by her show of emotion. She felt like a spoiled child.
“Just what?”
“I just wish I knew what I wanted to do with my life.”
Moira was quiet, considering. Then she said, “Go to the hill to visit the Queens.”
“The trees?” Elise grew wistful. “I haven’t thought about them in years.”
“They’re still there for you.”
“I wouldn’t know what to ask them.”
“Ask them for their advice. I’ll go with you.”
Elise shook her head. “No, thanks,” she said with condescension. She saw Moira cringe, and realized she’d been rude. “I’m sorry. It’s just, I’m not like you,” she said in a gentler tone. “I’m not into that kind of thing.”
“That kind of thing?” Moira tightened her lips.
Elise could feel the chill settle around them. “You know what I mean,” she said with a sigh.
“Suit yourself. But, Elise, if you don’t mind my saying so—”
“Uh-oh, here it comes.”
Moira ignored her attempt at humor. “I’m serious. If you don’t want to listen to the trees, I get it. But listen to me—your friend. You’ve been trying to make your mother proud for as long as I’ve known you. Maybe it’s time to find out what will make you proud. You told me you weren’t sure you wanted to do dressage anymore. That’s huge! Immense. You know what you don’t want to do. So why are you still doing it?”
Elise felt her throat closing. She shrugged.
“Wait.” Moira held out her hand in an arresting gesture. “Don’t tell me. I already know the answer. Because your mother wants you to do it.”
Elise didn’t want to hear this anymore. “Okay. I get it. Let it drop, Moira,” she said, a tone of warning in her voice.
But she wouldn’t. This was the Moira Elise knew too well, trying to make her friend feel better. If only she knew that all Elise wanted right now was for her to stop talking so she could lie in her own misery! She gritted her teeth as Moira went on.
“You and I, we both try to please others,” Moira said. “We always have. When I went to the trees today, they told me it was time to please myself.”
“Yeah, well, self-pleasure is never a bad idea.”
Moira didn’t laugh. She seemed deflated. “Go ahead, make jokes. But don’t tell me you’re jealous because I’m making decisions and moving forward while you don’t even try to change.”
“It’s not like I can just chuck my equestrian career.”
“Why not?”
Elise threw up her hands in frustration. She was mad now, and when she got mad, she had no filter. “Why not? God, Moira, you should know why not. Or has it been so long since you’ve had anything real to give up that you’ve forgotten?”
Moira looked shocked. “How can you say that? You know I’ve been struggling.”
“Sure. But think about it. What have you done since I last saw you?” She raised her eyebrows, daring her to answer.
Moira stared back at her, blinking rapidly.
“You got married and—oh yeah, you bought a house. A house you don’t even like. And me? Poor loser me? I’ve been winning show after show around the world. And I’m shortlisted for the Olympics. I guess that’s not important in your playbook. You can hold on to your failing marriage. But me? I should just toss up my hands on my ten years of day-in and day-out goddamn hard work and just chuck it.”
“Okay!” Moira said, swinging her legs off the bed onto the floor. “I’m sorry. Forget I said anything. I was just trying to be supportive. I didn’t mean to make it sound like you weren’t successful. I know you are. I’m jealous of you.”
“Don’t,” Elise said, putting her hands up to ward off Moira’s words. They were both on high horses now and needed to climb down. “Shit. I’m sorry too. You hit a nerve. Please, just let it drop.” Elise rose from the bed and grabbed her clothes. She began ramming her legs into her jeans, almost losing her balance.
“Don’t go,” Moira said. All the joy was gone from her voice. Now she sounded defeated.
“I need some air.”
“You can’t go out in this storm.”
Elise grabbed her bag. “Watch me.”
SIXTEEN
August 22, 10:30 p.m.
Freehold Farm, North Carolina
South Carolina residents warned to move away from water as a life-threatening surge of ten to fifteen feet is forecast
Angel helped himself to a third beer. He sat on the burgundy-and-white checked sofa, his pillow in his lap, his legs stretched out. He started peeling the label as thoughts of Gerta crowded his mind. Her vulnerable blue eyes haunted him.
Max jumped up on the sofa beside him and stretched out on the cushions, his giant body crowding Angel to the corner.