“No! It’s not like that,” she said, trying to pull open the washing machine’s door. It was stuck and would be until the machine eventually stopped. Whenever that would be. “He’s nice, very nice, I think. And really handsome and it’s just a whole thing. Never mind, I was going to call you and talk Irish pleasantries, but I think there’s something wrong with my washing machine.”

Octavia sighed. “How long has it been running?”

“Close to an hour and a half maybe?”

“What setting do you have it on?”

Antonia checked it again. “Wash, I think. It’s got, like, a million settings.”

“And how can I help you?”

Of course she didn’t know how her sister could help her. She just needed someone to talk to. Antonia was lonely in her five-person cottage, stuck in her writing, and unsure what to do in another country. “I need you to talk me down,” she said, hearing the weariness in her own voice.

“Well, I can do that,” Octavia said. “But, you’re going to have to talk to the rental guy about the machine.”

“Thanks.”

“I got your long email before I went to bed. It sounds like Derek tried to screw you over.”

“He did screw me over,” Antonia corrected, as she walked to the door and slipped her sneakers on.

“I said what I said. He tried, but you rebounded.”

“Why would he do something like that?” Antonia asked, leaving the house. Outside, it had warmed up enough for her to walk to Mr. Creely’s house without a jacket. Aiden’s car was gone. It brought her some relief to know that he was away. “Do you think he did it on purpose?”

“You did tell him what your plans were, so yes. Maybe he thought that would be a parting blow,” Octavia said. “He knows what makes you anxious and insecure. I imagine abrupt change is at the top of that list?”

Octavia knew her well. Like any reasonable person, Antonia appreciated a good plan. No one likes for their world to be turned upside-down. She’d lost her job and her wedding in the same 24-hour period. It was enough to make anyone a little tight. “Still, it was a real dick move,” she muttered.

“Oh, of course,” her sister replied. “I’m just saying that even though he threw you a curve ball, you’ve managed to sidestep it beautifully.”

Antonia’s face lit up with a smile. “You think so?”

“Definitely. Everything from here is smooth sailing,” Octavia said in a tone designated for her toughest patients.

“I don’t know about smooth sailing,” she said, returning to realism. “I haven’t told you about this village.”

“Lemme guess,” Octavia said with a chuckle. “You’re the only black person there?”

“Yes,” Antonia said in an exasperated voice. “My god, I don’t think I’ve ever been this alone.”

“Think of this as your James Baldwin experience,” Octavia offered. “He left a terrible America to experience Europe. It gave him some time to reflect on his life back home.”