"So you guys were very religious growing up?"
"Yes, very."
"I wouldn't have guessed it," I muttered. I slapped a hand over my mouth—fuck, I did not mean to say that—but Nate only laughed.
"Think about our namesakes—Matthew, Seth, Nathaniel. All Biblical. Our parents took us to church twice each Sunday. Our uncle, not so much."
"Your parents," I murmured.
"Yes. Their loss was very hard on Matt. He was young. Old enough to remember them, too young to really understand. I still don't think he understands. He feels pain like no one I have ever known, and always has. He's such an emotional creature."
I watched Nate, silently willing him to go on. After a moment, he did.
"I remember once we were on vacation in Maine and our father went into a cave, and he disappeared from view. Matt..." Nate smiled thinly. "He plopped himself down on the sand and cried so hard. He thought our father was gone. He was inconsolable, even when dad came out. All day these huge crocodile tears were standing in his eyes and I could see—" Nate gestured to his eyes. "—I could see that it meant something more to Matt, our father disappearing into the dark. It was more than fear. It was like a betrayal to him."
"Every small separation echoed a vaster goodbye," I said quietly. It was a line from The Silver Cord. My favorite line.
"Yes, exactly."
"Did he always want to be a writer?"
"Oh, I don't know. He would say no. He rarely talks about it, though I once heard him say that the only thing he hates more than writing is not writing." Nate chuckled. "After he left graduate school, I thought he would be a drunk for the rest of his short life. But he wrote—and the writing became his addiction."
Until now, I thought.
"Yeah, I see. Thank you."
"You're welcome, of course. Between the internet and The Silver Cord, it seems you know quite a bit about me and mine."
I ducked and pretended to be searching for something in my backpack. How awkward. It was one thing to snoop into Matt's life in the anonymous privacy of the net, and quite another to be sitting next to his brother and discussing my research.
"Yeah, I... I guess."
"Fair enough, Hannah. I know quite a bit about you and yours, too."
My stomach twisted. How much did Nate know? How much had Matt told him?
My panic must have been obvious, because Nate quickly added, "Matt spoke very well of you and your family."
I smiled tightly.
That conversation set the tone for the rest of the trip. Nate and I had reached an uneasy camaraderie and there we stayed, skirting the obvious awkwardness of our adventure.
I kept hoping Nate would volunteer his thoughts on why Matt was in such bad shape, but he didn't. Maybe he didn't know. Was it because of me? Was it because his cover was blown? Both? I didn't seriously think losing me could drive Matt into the ground.
Nate's car, a silver Cadillac sedan, was parked at Newark.
"I live near Trenton," he explained as we put our bags in the trunk. "There are small airports between here and Geneva, but I looked into tickets and they'd really give you the run around—down to Florida, back up to Philly, over to New York—and even then you'd need to do some driving. This is much better, and it gives us time to talk."
I clutched my backpack on my lap.
Time to talk. Awesome.
"I wouldn't mind doing some driving," I said, but as we moved through Newark in the growing dark, I became increasingly relieved it was Nate behind the wheel.
"Oh, you'll get to drive. We'll pick up your rental car when we get to Geneva."
I glanced at my phone. It was 7:00 p.m. Even if we made great time, we'd reach Geneva at midnight.
"I don't think rental places are open that late."
Nate shook his head. Thank god Nate was a more attentive driver than Matt. He drove aggressively, but he kept his hawkish eyes on the road and his hands on the wheel.
"I pulled a few strings, got the manager to open late for us. It's an emergency, after all."
I smirked and gazed out the window. So Nate bribed him, too. I remembered Matt trying to buy everything I laid my hands on. I had a distinct vision of Sky men plowing through life, snarling and slinging money at their problems.
By the time we reached Pennsylvania, it was too dark to see. Staring out the window, I could just make out rolling farmland and fences.
"Beautiful country," Nate told me. "Very fertile. Is this your first time out east?"
"Yeah. I grew up in Colorado."
"Well, I'm sorry you can't see more. Waking up to the Finger Lakes will be amazing, at least. It's more of the same between here and there—lots of farmland around New York State."
I nodded and smiled, though farmland didn't jive with my idea of New York.
My mind kept returning to Nate's words.
It's an emergency, after all.
Was I really the right person for this? What was I supposed to do?
We passed into New York and something changed in Nate. He sat forward as he drove. He glanced at me from time to time and began to chatter. Did I want to stop for food? No. Did I need a cup of coffee? No. Did I want the radio on, off? The heat? AC? He sped up.
"I've got you set up at Geneva on the Lake. You'll like it. I got you a suite. I'm sure you looked over the papers I gave you."
"Yeah, briefly..." I had also Googled the resort and then rapidly closed Firefox because I didn't want to think about how much Nate was spending on me. "You really didn't have to, I mean, it's so nice—"
"Oh, please. You're doing me a favor here Hannah. If anything's not to your liking, or if there are hitches, anything at all, you call me. I always have my phone. And of course..." He adjusted the rearview mirror. He ran his fingers through his thick hair and drummed the wheel. "Of course you might want to go see Matt right away."
I watched the night outside my window, hoping to conceal the fear on my face.
I had gotten used to Nate's calm persistent presence on the journey. Maybe I didn't want a travel companion at first, but suddenly the thought of being abandoned in New York terrified me. Abandoned with an unstable Matt, no less.
Our whirlwind romance aside, Matt and I barely knew one another.
We were strangers. Again. Still.
"Is—" I hesitated. "I mean, why—"
"Hm? If you're tired, by all means, get settled in your room, sleep. See him in the morning. I'm sure he's around. He's—"