The Sweetness of Salt



I went from room to room again inside the house, turning off the lights, searching behind the doors, but it was empty. When I called Sophie’s name, it reverberated against the walls, a sad, frantic echo. At least my car was still in the back, parked next to the garage. Still, when I thought about it, Sophie could have gone anywhere. This was her territory, not mine. Where had she disappeared to? When would she return? And where.… The thought made me shudder, bringing hot tears to my eyes.

Where was Goober?

Suddenly, I remembered the phone number on the refrigerator. Racing down to the kitchen, I grabbed it and then dialed the number with trembling fingers. It rang once, twice, three times.

“Hello?”

“Greg?”

“Yes?”

“This is…” I pressed my hand gently along the hollow of my stomach. “This is Sophie’s sister. Julia.”

“Oh.” He paused. “Hi, Julia.”

“Hi.” A nervous laugh escaped my lips. “How are you? I mean, how are things?”

Another pause. I knew how weird this must be. I’d only met Greg once. The day Goober was born, he had shown up at the hospital just as Mom and Dad and I were leaving, holding a bouquet of sunflowers. Sophie had made the awkward introductions, shifting uncomfortably in her bed as Greg set the flowers down carefully on the windowsill. I remember just watching him, how he moved with unease around Sophie, kissing her stiffly on the cheek, avoiding her eyes. And then, how his whole face changed, flushing pink, as he leaned over the bassinet and stared down at their daughter. “I’m…fine,” Greg said now. “And you?”

“Oh, I’m good.” I coughed lightly. “I’m actually at Sophie’s place. In Poultney.”

“How’s that coming along? She get it fixed up yet?”

My heart skipped a beat. So he knew about Poultney. He knew she was down here. Okay. It was a start.

“Yeah. She’s working hard on it. I’ve been sort of helping.” My eyes fell on the wall across the kitchen. My mural of Main Street. There was the Laundromat and Perry’s with the wooden tables out front and the pizza place too. They were all there, set back a little against the street itself. A wrought iron lamppost stood in the left corner, and next to it was the chokecherry tree, its leaves small and pointed like elf ears. Just like outside. I had done that.

“Are you staying for the summer?” Greg asked.

“Yes. I mean, no.” I turned away from the mural and leaned against the butcher block. I didn’t know anything anymore. “I mean, I’ll be here for a little while.”

Greg didn’t say anything for a moment. I could tell he was trying to guess the real reason for my call. Suddenly, in the background, I heard a little voice.

“Daddy, come finish your picture.”

My knees buckled at the sound of Goober’s voice. I pressed my knuckles against my lips as Greg answered her. “Hold on, baby. Daddy’ll be right there.”

“That…that’s Goober?”

“Yeah.” Greg answered. “We were just coloring.”

I began to cry. “Then she’s…okay? Goober, I mean? She’s okay? She’s safe?”

“Julia.” I could hear the sound of Greg’s footsteps as he moved out of the room, out of Goober’s hearing range. “What’s going on? Why are you calling me?” His voice was considerably softer, but firm.

I struggled for the words. There was no possible way I could begin to explain things to Greg. “There’s just been some stuff…going on. Sophie’s been making all these excuses about why Goober isn’t down here with her, and I didn’t know where she…really was. And I…”

“Sophie didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“Goober lives with me now,” he said simply. “Sophie and I are in the process of getting the whole custody order changed so I’ll be the primary custodian.”

“What?” I could feel the breath leave my body. “Why? Why would you do something like that to her?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Greg answered. “Sophie came to me with the idea, not the other way around.”

“But…that doesn’t make any sense! Goober’s her whole life, Greg! You know that! She loves her more than anything. Why would she do something like that?”

Greg was quiet for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was unsettlingly calm. “You know, Sophie and I have never really been close. I mean, aside from the fact that we had a child together.” There was a pause. “It’s been five years since we met, and I still don’t know a lot about her. She doesn’t share anything with me. Never has and, I realized quite some time ago, never will. So when she came to me a few months ago and told me that she was having nightmares about hurting Goober, I knew better than just to blow it off. It was the first time she’d told me anything real about herself. Anything honest. And when she followed it up with the custody discussion, I kept listening.”

Cecilia Galante's books