by Nancy Thayer
Alison gasped. “David, that’s generous of you, but it’s too generous. It’s lovely of you to will me the proceeds from your Boston home, but to give me a third of the Nantucket house, well, that’s too much. It’s not fair.”
“Look, it’s my house that I bought and paid for with my money, and you are going to be my wife. We will be spending a considerable amount of time there. More than Poppy and Ethan ever will. And your children and grandchildren enjoy the place. I’d like to see my grandchildren and your grandchildren vacationing there as adults.”
Alison laughed. “So you plan to live to one hundred.”
“Damn right I do! I know I’m not going to live forever. I’m very fond of the Nantucket house and I know it’s a rare and marvelous gift to leave to my children and to you and your children. Maybe their children will talk about their eccentric old man who bought the place.”
Alison reached out and gently stroked the side of David’s face. “Dear one. What generous thoughts.”
But as David wound his way through the congested streets, Alison worried. What would Poppy think? What about Ethan?
“I want to be with you when you tell your children about the will,” Alison said at last. “I think they will have some issues about it, and I want to be clear about what you say and what they say. And as grateful as I am for your generosity, I don’t think Poppy is going to like it. You should be prepared for a fight, I think.”
David smiled. “I’ve fought lots of battles over money in my life, Alison. And I know my children well. I think I can handle this.”
I’m not sure I can, Alison thought. But she kept her peace until they were home. They were quiet as they went through the small foyer and took the ornate brass elevator up to David’s apartment.
“Hungry?” Alison asked.
“Not really.” Clearly, he was preoccupied.
“I could scramble some eggs…”
“Give me about thirty minutes. I’ve been going over accounts and I want to finish.”
“Fine. I’ll unpack and have a shower.”
Alison stood under the hot running water for a long time, not thinking, but relaxing, catching her breath. She always seemed to be trying to think ahead, about ferry and plane schedules, whether she had enough food, enough beer, and where the grandchildren were…It was luxurious to be alone as she rubbed lotion into her arms and brushed out her wet hair. She slid into a light silk kimono and went downstairs and into David’s study. While David slowly put his computer to sleep and organized his desk, Alison poured them each a drink and handed one to David. He sank into a chair, sighing as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“What’s wrong?” Alison asked.
“It’s Poppy,” he said. He leaned back in his chair and ran his hands through his hair.
“Poppy? What’s Poppy?”
“She’s screwing up at work. I’ve found a load of errors, and I’m fixing them and now I have to go through everything. This isn’t like her at all. I don’t know what’s gotten into her.”
Alison laughed. “I know exactly what’s gotten into her. She’s pregnant, David! She’s building you a new grandchild. Cut her some slack.”
“I wouldn’t cut any other employee some slack, especially not the women. I’ve been lectured too often about equality in the workplace. Anyway, it can’t be the pregnancy. She wasn’t this scattered with the first two children.”
“Every pregnancy’s different.”
“Emma’s were the same. And she never got so absentminded.”
“Poppy and Emma are two different women. And from what you’ve said, Emma was never involved in your business.”
“But she was. Emma gave elaborate parties and dinners.”
“Now, David,” Alison said, keeping her voice light, “you’re just being perverse. Do you mean to say that hosting parties and dinners is equal to what you’re expecting Poppy to do?”
“Humph.” David did not lose any argument easily. He sipped his brandy and rubbed his forehead. “Okay, yes, of course you’re right. I suppose I do need to give Poppy a break.” He hesitated before admitting, “You know, I hate to say it, but I’m finding it difficult, handing the reins over to Poppy—not because she’s a girl—”
“—woman,” Alison softly corrected.
“—but because I’d find it hard giving over control to anyone. I know I don’t have the energy or quick wits I used to have, but I’ve spent my life building the company and it’s wrenching to give it away.”
For a long moment, Alison was quiet, thinking. “Okay, then, how about this? Why not wait until Poppy’s had her baby, and had a few months to enjoy her new child—babies are so delicious when they’re small. Plus, Poppy won’t get a good night’s sleep for a year. You must remember that from when you and Emma had your babies. Give yourself another year or two before handing the company over.”
“But we’re going to travel, you and I, after our wedding. We’ve booked a cruise through the Baltic and up to Saint Petersburg.”
Alison smiled. “I think Saint Petersburg will still be there in another year or two.”
David stared. “You’re unbelievable. Any other woman would be furious to have to wait another year for a honeymoon.”
Alison cocked her head and looked stern. “Well, there is one condition.”
“Really? What is it?”
“You have to come to the island more often. I don’t mean just this summer, I mean all through the year. They’ve got so many fabulous events there, the Daffodil Festival, the Cranberry Festival, the Christmas Stroll. We should definitely come for those. Celebrations of each season. We should enjoy each day, every day. You know that saying about putting things you want to do on your bucket list and doing them before you die? I saw someone wearing a T-shirt that said, ‘I’M LIVING MY BUCKET LIST.’ Isn’t that clever? We don’t have to go on a cruise to enjoy life. You just need to ease up on work, come to the island more.”
David said, “Alison, your cheeks have gone red. Are you having a hot flash?”
“No, idiot, I’m excited! Excited about having you with me on that fabulous island. I enjoy my girls and grandchildren, and your family, too, but it’s you I want to be with.” Suddenly, she had a thought. “And, David! You could make Poppy co-CEO of your company. You could share the work. That would be good for both of you. She’d have time for her baby, and then she’d take over the tiller and you’d have time with me.”
“Okay, I see what you’re getting at. You really believe I should continue working for a year?”
“Actually, David, I think you should continue working for years. I don’t know why we didn’t think of this before, but the man I fell in love with is a lion, a tiger. You’ve built that company from a small enterprise into a towering success. You’re working with young techies on ways to increase your sales through the Internet, and I know you like to be hands-on. Gosh, why didn’t I see this before? You love your work! You shouldn’t retire.”
David ran his hands through his hair again, thinking. “You’re right. If I’m honest, I don’t want to retire. I don’t want to hand over the reins to Poppy. But Poppy wants to be head of the company.”
“But remember, Poppy is young. She knows stuff you don’t know. She has ideas you don’t have. You need to share the work—and the glory. And you need to start taking a couple of days a week away from work. We can go to the island. We can go to museums and concerts in Boston. You can lead a more balanced life.”
“What about you?” David asked. “No honeymoon?”
Alison ran her hand down his beloved face. “Whenever we’re together, that’s all the honeymoon I need.”
sixteen
Felicity understood that she possessed an unrealistic view of marriage. Her parents had been happy together, and Felicity had assumed her marriage would be happy, too.
Or, wait, she thought. She didn’t mean happy or even easy. She’d thought marriage between two people would be a joint effort. Fifty-fifty. Maybe sixty-forty.
Now she knew she’d been naïve.
Her situation was compounded by the fact that in the group of mothers Felicity saw on a regular basis, usually at someplace like the park or the school with the kids, no other mother seemed as conflicted about her own marriage as Felicity was about hers. She knew, of course, they couldn’t all be floating on rosy clouds of matrimonial bliss, but while they all complained—with laughter—about their husbands, no one expressed the doubts and the downright anger Felicity felt.
She spent three days muttering to herself, and finally, in the middle of the week, she called Jane.
“I was just going to phone you!” Jane said.
“You were?” Felicity couldn’t help smiling.
“What’s going on?” Jane asked.
“Do you have a moment?”
“Of course. Where are you?”
“I’m in the attic.”
Jane laughed. “Isn’t it hot up there?”
“Sweltering. But this way the kids can’t hear me.”
“Wow. Tell me everything.”
“You first,” Felicity said.
“No, you first,” Jane said. “Please. I need to get out of my Slough of Despond.”
“Your what?”
“It’s from The Pilgrim’s Progress…never mind. Tell me.”
“All right, well, the coming weekend is the Fourth of July. Fireworks, cookouts, the All-American day, right? Mom has invited us all down for the long weekend and it’s going to be wicked hot those days. Plus, I’ve been to the island twice and Noah hasn’t deigned to come even once.”
“And he doesn’t want to come for the Fourth?” Jane asked.
“He doesn’t! He won’t! And do you know why? Because Ingrid, his ‘office wife,’ is having a huge cookout for everyone who works for Green Food.”
“But the Fourth is a family holiday, isn’t it?”
“Exactly! That’s what I told Noah and he said children are invited, too, and get this, the astonishing Ingrid has a swimming pool!”
“Um, Mom’s got the ocean…”
“Noah says the salt in the ocean bothers his eyes.”
“And the chorine in a pool doesn’t?”
“Noah says he has to be at Ingrid’s cookout. He says it will be a perfect time to network with his employees on a personal basis.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I called you.”
Jane laughed. “Yes, because I’m such a wizard in the marriage department.”
“Wait, tell me more about you.”
“Well, guess what. Scott won’t go to Nantucket for the Fourth, either. We’ve always gone to the summer home of one of the partners of his firm, and he’s insisting he’ll go there even if he has to go without me. We had a major fight. I’m really angry, Felicity. I’m angry enough to end this.”
“Oh, Jane, no. You and Scott are so perfect for each other. With each other.”
“I thought we were,” Jane said sadly. “I’m not so sure anymore.”
The sisters were quiet for a long moment, deep in thought.
“Well, Filly, this ought to put your Independence Day picnic in perspective,” Jane said with a wry laugh.
“Actually, it does. You’ll be going to Nantucket, won’t you?”
“You bet I am. And I hope that yummy Ethan is there, too.”
“What? Why? Oh, Jane, don’t be a fool.”
“Why not? Ethan’s handsome and sexy and willing.”
“Don’t even. You know Ethan’s just a serial flirt. What you have with Scott is profound. You don’t want to muddy your marriage with some stupid flirtation.”
“Don’t worry, Felicity, if I muddy my marriage, as you say, I’ll be sure it’s more than flirtation.”
“Jane!” Felicity burst into tears. “Infidelity is nothing to joke about!”
“Oh, silly Filly, don’t cry. I’m not going to sleep with him. I’m just hoping Scott isn’t drowning his sorrows with one of the female lawyers in his firm.”
“Scott wouldn’t do that.”
“No, I don’t think he would. He might want to, but he takes all his vows seriously.”
“So do I,” Felicity said, her voice thoughtful, forlorn.
“You’re thinking Noah doesn’t?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think he’s having a…sexual…affair with Ingrid, but I hate that he chooses her cookout over our family’s.” Felicity took a deep breath. “But I’m glad we talked. I’m going to give in and go to Ingrid’s party. With the kids. That will show Noah that I’m committed to helping him in his work. And it will remind Ingrid that Noah has a family.”
“Well, damn it, I’m going to Nantucket!”
“Jane, please. Be good.”
Jane snorted. “When have I ever been anything else?”
* * *
—
Alison was disappointed to learn that Felicity and her family weren’t coming for the holiday weekend. The fireworks, set off at Jetties Beach, were always spectacular.
Jane was coming for the full four days, without Scott. Ethan was coming, and Poppy and Patrick and their children. And most wonderfully, David would be there, and he promised not to talk about work. Alison did everything she could to get ready—stocking up on groceries and making breakfast casseroles and dinner stews she could freeze to go with the succulent veggies she’d buy fresh every day. The weather had skyrocketed into the eighties, with humidity swamping the air. The fireworks were to be held on Monday the third, if the island didn’t get the thick fog that often blew in. Alison’s resolution for this particular weekend was to be especially nice to Poppy, to get to know her better, to become, possibly, her friend.
But when Poppy and her family arrived on Saturday afternoon, Poppy huffed out a hostile-sounding hello before walking away from her. True, Poppy and Patrick were loaded down with suitcases and backpacks, and they were both trying to herd Daphne and Hunter upstairs to their rooms to unpack and change into bathing suits. David and Ethan didn’t see Poppy’s snub because they were outside, blowing up the rubber whale and hosing off some beach chairs.
“Have you all had lunch?” Alison asked Patrick as he headed up the stairs.
“We have, thanks. We’re good. The kids are eager to get down to the beach.”
“Great!” Alison went back to the kitchen to, as her mother had often said, have a little think. A bowl of fresh fruit sat on the kitchen table. Iced tea and pink lemonade were in plastic (unbreakable) pitchers in the refrigerator. Several kinds of beer waited in the refrigerator door. The sheets were fresh on the beds, bath towels and beach towels towered in the bathrooms, the kitchen was bursting with food to feed a mob, and yet Alison was troubled by a chill of foreboding, as if her very bones were warning of an approaching storm.
She wore shorts, a loose T-shirt, and flip-flops. This morning she’d had a lovely long swim to cool off after she’d finished cooking and baking. Jane hadn’t arrived yet. She would come in the late afternoon, and as she had before, she’d rent her own car. Jane liked to be self-sufficient. So Alison was free, really, to relax. She could read a novel or take a nap or sit out on the deck watching the others and being available—that was what her inner self was cautioning her to do: to be available.
She was in the downstairs bathroom applying another coat of sunblock when Daphne and Hunter thundered down the stairs in their bathing suits. Their father followed, yelling, “Wait for me, kids!” The back door slammed. Alison heard Patrick and his kids greeting David and Ethan.
“Alison.”
Alison turned. Poppy stood in the bathroom door, her face like a sto
rm cloud.
“Poppy! I didn’t hear you come down. Would you like some sunblock? I like this kind especially, it doesn’t sting your eyes…”
“We need to talk,” Poppy said bluntly.
Alison flinched at the other woman’s tone. “What?”
“In the den.” Poppy turned and walked away.
After a moment, Alison followed.
Poppy was pacing in front of the fireplace.
“Poppy, what—”
“What gives you the right to delay my taking control of the company?”
“Poppy, I don’t understand. Let’s sit down and—”
“Do you think, because I’m pregnant, I have to sit down?”
“For heaven’s sake, Poppy. No. I think because I’m older than you are, I need to sit down.” Alison sank onto a chair. “Okay. Now. Please. Tell me what you’re so upset about.”
“Don’t pretend not to know. You told my father he shouldn’t make me CEO of the company because I’m pregnant.”
“I see.” Alison tapped her lip. What a mess. David had mentioned in passing, in their flurried hours of packing for this weekend, that he had spoken with Poppy about waiting to take over the company, but he hadn’t give Alison any details. Had David told Poppy why he wanted to wait? Had he pointed out to his beloved daughter that she was making all kinds of mistakes and not getting necessary reports and directives done in a timely fashion? Alison needed to speak with David before she could talk truthfully. This wasn’t information Alison should give.
Alison equivocated. “That’s not what I said.”
“Are you calling my father a liar?”
“Of course not, Poppy.” Alison took a few yoga breaths. She thought she knew a way through this mess, for now. “I think your father has so much to deal with, professionally and personally. Taking control of the company—which I never said you shouldn’t do—and our forthcoming wedding and your pregnancy, will take a toll on your life for at least a year—”