When they walk back to their cottage, they take the long way. They cut through the path to the beach and walk barefoot at the water’s edge. Not that they say much. It’s more like they’re absorbing what’s really happening, said or unsaid. Fears and threats and worries and vulnerabilities—all of it exposed by one virus locking them in place, alone.
Yet the world keeps spinning; the waves keep breaking; the sun moves across the sky.
Once they reach the dirt road, they step back into their sandals and sneakers before walking toward their cottage. Their faces are drawn. Throats are tight around some dark emotion. Tears are fought. On that one packed-dirt road, a worldwide health crisis has drawn a clear line between Mack and Avery.
* * *
“Hey, there’s the Martinellis!” a man’s voice calls out as they walk the dusty road. “The newlyweds!”
Avery and Mack watch an older couple cautiously approach and fully stop about twelve feet away. They stand on the edge of their cottage’s lawn; their hands clap; their smiles beam.
“Rafe. Rosa,” Mack says, stepping forward before catching himself and holding up a hand. “Really good to see you both.”
“We saw your engagement in the Hatchett’s Point newsletter!” this Rosa says. She wears a sun visor; her sage-green tank top is loose over denim Bermuda shorts. And her happiness is genuine. If she could, if she didn’t have to socially distance, anyone could tell she’d rush right over and hug Mack and Avery, both. Her posture is bursting with the desire to do so.
Mack looks back to Avery. “These are my neighbors, Rafe and Rosa.” Returning to Avery’s side, Mack puts his arm around her and kisses her head. Quietly, he tells her, “R and R? Painted on the rocks?”
Avery nods and smiles at the older couple.
“Mrs. Martinelli,” Rafe calls out. He wears a cream-colored polo shirt with a windowpane print over brown shorts. “Welcome to our little neighborhood,” he says with a wide wave. “So nice to meet you!”
“My better half,” Mack tells Rafe and Rosa. “This here’s Avery.”
Rafe and Rosa inch a foot or two closer. It’s as if they can’t get enough of seeing pretty Avery, with her blunt-cut shoulder-length sandy hair. And the way she’s dressed in that white tee and white, faintly tie-dyed jeans, she could still look like a bride.
“Mack,” Rosa says with a shake of her head. “How’s the family? And the business?”
“Well, you know. Everything’s closed for the time being. But Mom and Dad are doing good. Tommy’s keeping them in line while I’m on my honeymoon here,” he adds with a wink.
“And Avery!” Rosa clasps her hands in front of her. “What do you do, when you’re not busy being a new bride?”
“I’m actually the visual display director at Windmill Plaza.”
“Oh?” Rosa asks. “Is that the place with all those quaint colonial-style storefronts? And the cobblestone walkways?”
Avery nods. “Yes. I coordinate all the window displays in those storefronts, to create a visual piece of art—one that tells a cohesive story among the shops.”
“How wonderful. I’ll have to look closely next time I’m there!” Rosa tells her.
Rafe motions to Mack. “Now how did you two meet, Mack? Online dating?” he asks.
Mack laughs. “No, Rafe. I’m very old-school. I met my beautiful wife when I picked up her dining room chairs last fall.”
“You see,” Avery adds. “I was getting them reupholstered in time for the holidays.”
Mack nods. “I told her Martinelli Upholstering was booked solid and there was only one way her order could be squeezed in.”
“And how’s that?” Rafe asks.
“If she agreed to have dinner with me,” Mack explains. “Now here we are—married. So a stroke of fate brought me to my sweetheart.”
“Aw, I love a special story like that,” Rosa declares.
“I couldn’t let this one get away.” As he says it, Mack squeezes Avery close. And kisses her head again, as though there’d never been an argument between them. As though Avery never doubted their decision to get married. As though they are blissfully in love.
“Please, Avery. Mack. Can you wait there for just a minute?” Rosa holds up a finger and turns to her cottage. “I have something on the porch for you.”
Rosa doesn’t wait for an answer. Instead, she hurries across her lawn and disappears onto the porch. Meanwhile, Mack talks to Rafe about the pandemic, and asks if he and Rosa have everything they need to safely stay here.
“We do, Mack. We’re even ordering our groceries online.”
“Yoo-hoo!” Rosa is waving and trotting across her front yard now. She holds a large cup in her hand. “Seeing you two like this, so close, well it’s really romantic—especially in these scary times. But remember, all you need to get through it is love. You be sure to lean on each other during this lockdown.”
“Oh, Rosa, let me assure you,” Mack says, keeping his arm looped around Avery’s waist. “There’s no social distancing between me and the Mrs. Can barely keep six inches apart!”
Rosa nudges Rafe to dig into the cup she holds, and suddenly they’re tossing rice across the dirt road so that it sprinkles down on Mack and Avery.
“Good luck!” Rafe calls out as the newlyweds walk away.
“Much joy to you both!” Rosa adds, taking another step closer as she tosses the rice at them.
Tosses it just as Mack loosens his hold and drops his arm from around Avery’s waist. And puts some space between them. Tosses more rice just as Avery dips her head and swipes at a tear on her face—before turning and giving a wave.
* * *
Back at the cottage, they hardly talk.
Instead, pots clang a little too loudly. And the flatware drawer is opened too abruptly, jangling the forks and knives and spoons. Avery makes a salad and sets the dishes on the teak deck table while Mack takes out a roasted chicken and baked potatoes from the oven.
Still quiet, there’s only the tense sound of forks clicking, deck chairs scraping.
Until Avery asks, “What was that all about before? With Rafe and Rosa?”
“What was what all about?”
“Oh, you know. That over-the-top lovey-dovey act you put on.”
“Listen. Rafe and Rosa are good friends of the family. Been our neighbors for years and years, as indicated on their graffiti rock?”
“And your point is …”
“Avery.” Mack sets down his fork. “We were in an argument, which they didn’t need to know. So I showed them what they wanted to see. Told them what they wanted to hear. Did you see how they lit up?” Mack stabs at a slice of chicken, saying under his breath, “Maybe I wanted to believe it, too.”
“Mack. You’re taking things wrong. The things I said at the pond—”
“That you’re not sure you would’ve married me if this pandemic hit earlier? There’s only one way to take that.” Mack looks at her for a long second, then stands and brings his plate to the kitchen.
Avery follows after him. “Everything’s just so uncertain with the virus. And unknown. And … and dangerous, Mack. Really, lives are on the line out there. And I guess that anxiety crept into my thoughts about everything.”