“I don’t know.” Lily’s chest heaved. “Maybe I was just jealous that you chose Marina instead of me. I never dreamed they’d arrest you. I only thought they’d give you a good scare. I didn’t think it through.” Lily’s face was blotchy with emotion. “I am so sorry. I am so so sorry.”
“Well, I’ll never forgive you for this, Lily. I’ll never trust you again in my life.”
“Hey, Emma, come on.” Abbie rose from the table, crossed the room, and put one arm around Lily, who was crying now. “Back off, Emma. Calm down. Come on. You’re not in jail, are you?”
“Oh, nice, Abbie, side with her, protect your little baby sister. The little princess.” Emma took a few steps away from Lily and stood for a moment catching her breath. After a long moment of silence, Emma confessed, “I was so frightened in that police car. I had a panic attack. It was awful. It’s awful being trapped in a car and you can’t get out; all I could think was what if there’s an accident, I can’t get out!”
“Oh, Em, I never meant for that to happen,” Lily said. “I didn’t think anything like that would happen.”
“It was so mean of you, Lily,” Emma said and now she was weeping. “Why would you do something so mean to me? You must hate me.”
“But I don’t hate you!” Lily protested.
“Well,” Emma’s voice was thick with emotion. “I hate you.” She turned and left the room.
43
Emma
Emma had agreed to help Marcia with her landscaping business this weekend, and as she dragged herself out of bed at five-thirty Saturday morning, she was glad. She hadn’t slept well, and it was a relief to see the dawn, to leave her hot, tangled sheets. She wanted to get out of the house before either of her sisters woke. She was so mad at Lily it made her jaw clench until her teeth ached, and she wasn’t pleased with Abbie, either.
She poured herself a glass of orange juice, slugged it back, and was ready at the curb when Marcia and Brian drove up in the green pickup truck. She squeezed into the cab next to Brian. Marcia was driving. The air was rich with the aroma of coffee and sugar, and to Emma’s delight, Brian handed her a traveling mug filled with hot coffee and a bag of Downy Flake doughnuts.
“Thanks, guys,” Emma said. “I need this.”
“Well, I need you,” Marcia said. “I can’t believe Karen just took off like that. She’d promised she’d work for me through August. Instead, she left the island without giving me one day’s notice.”
“Not to mention,” Brian added in his low rumbling voice, “everyone wants their gardens to look perfect, and we haven’t had rain for a week, and no one considers that they might wander out and water their gardens all by themselves!”
Emma sipped her coffee, listening to Marcia’s chatter, aware of Brian’s low chuckle and also of how his muscular thigh pressed against hers. They were crowded in the cab; he couldn’t help it. She didn’t mind it, really, and he smelled good, like Ivory soap and Barbasol. Idly Emma wondered if brothers and sisters had less friction between them than sisters. Would Brian ever try to get his sister in trouble? She doubted it. He seemed like a pretty easygoing guy.
Their first stop was on Wolf Lane. Brian mowed the lawn while Marcia and Emma weeded and watered. The day was hot and humid, and an irritating gusty wind yanked plants from Emma’s hands and slapped branches into her face. The humidity turned her hair into a giant ball of frizz, and when she tried to pull it back, her rubber band broke. Sweat washed away her sunblock and she knew her nose and shoulders were turning lobster red.
Really, she knew she was most angry at herself. In her own twisted, warped, pathetic way, she had allowed her attraction to Spencer Bracebridge to create some kind of bizarre and hopelessly doomed scenario. She’d imagined how she would discover that the lightship baskets were fake, and she’d tell Spencer, and he would be impressed by her acute perception and her deep concern for island historical artifacts and for his beloved grandmother …
And what? What then? What had she imagined? She hadn’t thought how horrified Spencer would be if it really was his own mother who was stealing the baskets. He might hate Emma for exposing his mother and putting them all in such a difficult position. Emma was only an employee—who did she think she was, to pry into the lives of such an important, respected island family?
At the next job, Brian trimmed the high privet hedge with electric trimmers while Marcia and Emma pulled out the annuals the owner was tired of and planted flowers in the colors the owner desired. Tearing healthy plants from the ground just seemed wrong, and it sent Emma’s mood tumbling. She couldn’t believe what Lily had done. She couldn’t believe that Abbie had defended her. She couldn’t believe that she’d thought Spencer Bracebridge would ever be interested in her, and her only consolation was that she’d never allowed her feelings for him to show, not to him, not to Millicent, not even to her sisters.
Her cell phone, tucked into the pocket of her cargo shorts, vibrated. She glanced at the caller ID. It was Millicent Bracebridge’s home. Her heart leapt. Perhaps Spencer was calling—
“Hello?”
“Is this Emma Fox?” It was Sandra Bracebridge’s chilly voice.
Emma closed her eyes, as if against an oncoming train. “Yes.”
“I’m calling to tell you you are relieved of your duties here. I don’t want you to set foot in this house again, do you understand?”
Emma swallowed. “I understand, Mrs. Bracebridge. But I’d like to tell your mother-in-law good-bye.”
“Did you not hear what I said? You are not to come into this house again. If you do, I’ll phone the police and have you forcibly removed.”
Emma snorted with surprise. What was it with everyone phoning the cops on her?
“I’ll send your paycheck in the mail,” Sandra Bracebridge concluded, and without saying good-bye, disconnected.
Emma squeezed the cell phone so hard she was surprised she didn’t crush it. She wanted to throw it hard against a brick, but she stuck it back into her pocket and savagely attacked an azalea bush.
What was she doing on this island?
What was she even doing on this planet?
No one was choosing her! Marina had gone off with her father. Abbie had sided with Lily. Duncan had dumped her for Alicia, her Boston firm had fired her and kept other people, and now she’d lost her connection to Millicent Bracebridge and the island, not to mention Spencer, because she’d never had any real connection to him.
She was a total loser.
She could understand for the first time how her mother had done it, why she had done it. Sometimes it all got to be too much, and there was nothing hopeful in sight. Then how did a person go on?
44
Lily
Lily woke on Saturday morning with misery sitting on her stomach like an elephant.
Last night after her sisters went to bed, Lily had phoned Jason to tell him she was sleeping at her house. She and Emma had had a fight, she’d told him. She’d explain it later.
She’d hoped that in the morning Emma would be less angry and more forgiving. She and Emma had fought before. A good night’s sleep would calm her down.
But the house was empty. Her sisters had already left for work. Without making coffee.
Crankily, Lily brewed a pot of coffee and drank juice, considering the day before her. The Life Saving Museum fund-raiser, the last big event of the summer, was tonight. After this weekend, families began to pack up in preparation for returning home. The weather was still hot and sunny, but hurricanes were spinning near the southern states, threatening to spiral north, to loom overhead, darkening the sky and kicking up high winds that made the ferry and plane trips uncomfortable and sometimes even terrifying.
The sense of a long, idyllic summer was ending. Everyone’s thoughts were turning to fall.
For Lily, it had all gone too fast. She felt she was only now hitting her stride, learning how to move among the truly wealthy as if she belonged there. The approaching storm, the flickeri
ng of the light as the winds batted the summer leaves, made her anxious about her future.
Low laughter drifted through the kitchen window. Lily leaned against the sink, curious.
Her father and Marina were walking away from the Playhouse. Her father’s arm was around Marina’s waist, a possessive and sexual grasp. He was looking down at her, and she looked up at him, and they stopped right there in the middle of the yard where anyone could see them and kissed. Really kissed. A full-body press, movie-moment kiss.
Gross, Lily hissed. Yet she couldn’t wrench her eyes away. Horrified, mesmerized, she watched as the couple walked on, leaning toward each other, to her father’s truck.
Everyone liked Marina more than they liked her. It was a childish thought, but Lily couldn’t ignore it. Eartha would be going back to New York any day now. Most of the parties were over. Was Marina going to go back to Missouri? Or would she stay here? And where did Lily belong?
Put on your big girl shoes and stop whining, she told herself. She had a ton of notes to type up for the magazine, so she got out her laptop and notepads and set to work. That helped.
She called Jason again. He was working all day on a deck. She called Carrie and took lunch over to her house and then, on the spur of the moment, she offered to take the baby for a walk for an hour or so, to give Carrie time for a nap. Carrie was thrilled and grateful, and as Lily pushed the stroller along the sidewalk, she felt helpful and generous and quite pleased with herself.
The house was still silent when she returned home. She had time for a good long soak in the bathtub and plenty of time to set and arrange her hair in the smashingly attractive sleek do that made her feel like a movie star.
At the fund-raiser, she snapped photos and jotted down names. Now, at the end of the summer, lots of people knew her. Important people. They smiled at her, and air-kissed her, and chatted with her. Her dark mood lifted. She actually felt rather glamorous. She went to Jason’s to spend the night, still on an emotional high.
Sunday she and Jason slept late, then spent a lazy afternoon at the beach. Sunday evening, for the first time in weeks, she had nothing scheduled for work. Jason ordered a pizza and suggested she kick back, watch TV, and relax.
But the basement was dank and mildewy with the worst of the summer’s humidity, and she got cranky again. Her shorts and baggy tee shirt seemed hideous. She kept checking her cell phone, and no one had called her, not Emma, not Abbie, not Eartha. It made her feel so unwanted.
“Stop checking for calls,” Jason told her. He padded barefoot to the refrigerator, got out two cold beers, and levered off the caps. He took a long cool drink, then returned to hand her a beer. “You deserve a little time off.”
“I wish I could get time off from my thoughts.” Lily yanked her long hair up off her neck with a rubber band.
“Emma will forgive you,” Jason assured her. “You know she will. You’re sisters. And Marina’s lease on the cottage is up in December, right?”
Lily snorted. “That doesn’t mean she’ll leave in September. I’m afraid she’s never going to leave.”
“All right, then, is that such a bad thing? Think about it rationally, Lily. It might be nice for your dad to have someone in his life. Someone serious, to live with him.”
“I live with him,” Lily reminded Jason.
Jason laughed. “Honey, you don’t want to live with your daddy all your life. That’s just sad.”
Why did his words hit her like a blow? Lily couldn’t understand her own emotions. “I know that. I just—it’s like I don’t belong anywhere, Jason.” She felt tears well in her eyes. “Oh, God, I am so sick of myself.”
Jason contemplated her for a moment, then rose and went into the bedroom. She heard the dresser drawer open and close. Jason returned to sit next to her.
“I was going to wait until some romantic occasion,” he said. “But we don’t have to do that clichéd stuff, do we? You don’t have to worry about where you belong, Lily. You belong with me.” He held out a small black velvet box. “Let’s make it official.”
Lily took the box, opened it, and saw, ensconced in black velvet, the smallest diamond ring on the planet. She stared at it as the world closed in on her, and this moment engraved itself in her memory. This was how she would always remember Jason asking her to marry him. Sitting here, in a rented basement apartment, wearing old baggy clothes, her hair straggling around her face, no makeup, a box of pizza and a bottle of beer on the coffee table.
“I know the diamond’s small,” Jason explained. “But I want to save as much as possible so we can make a down payment on a house here someday. I was even thinking that if Marina does move in with your father, you and I could move into the cottage, and we’d save on rent and have more money piled up sooner.”
Jason was so earnest, his eyes so full of love. “We’ve only known each other three months, Jason,” she said softly.
“We’ve really known each other our whole lives,” he said. “We’ve been in love for three months. We’re not kids anymore. We’re old enough to know what we want. Who we want. I want you, Lily.”
“And I want you, Jason. But—”
Jason’s face lit up. “Then marry me.”
She thought out loud. “I’ve always wanted a big wedding.”
“Well, we can have a big wedding.” He took her hands in his. “Lily, we can have any kind of wedding you want, any time you want. A Christmas wedding? A June wedding? Yeah, how about a summer wedding, on the beach, barefoot in the sand, with the ocean all around us.” He studied her face. “Lily, we don’t have to decide all that now. We can take the time to plan just what you want. But I want you to feel secure. I want you to know you have a place, and it’s with me, wherever I am. And I know I don’t have a lot of money right now, but we’re young, Lily. We’re young and strong, we’re hard workers. I love you, Lily. I want to marry you. I want to protect you. I want to take care of you.”
“Oh, Jason,” Lily said helplessly. “You’re so sweet. You’re the sweetest man on the planet.”
“Then will you marry me, Lily?”
She smiled, and she was crying now, too. “Of course I’ll marry you, Jason.”
“Then let’s seal the deal.” He slid the ring on her finger.
She held her hand up. If she wiggled her hand just right, the tiny diamond caught the light and sparkled.
45
Marina
Sunday evening, Marina took the pie from the oven, feeling quite pleased with the way the tips of the meringue were toasted to a caramel gloss, the crust a perfect golden brown. She was coming to cooking late in life, and she found it engaged many of the creative energies and attention she had once paid to her work. She was gaining weight, she noticed, but she didn’t mind. Jim didn’t, either.
She smiled, thinking of Jim. He had a talent for enjoying the day, and she was learning from him. And with each day she came to understand how right Jim had been when he talked with her about his daughters. It would be almost impossible, Marina thought, not to favor one woman more, and one woman less.
Earlier today, Marina had gone through the empty house, organizing it after the weekend. She carried glasses and plates back to the kitchen, newspapers out to the recycle bin, and swept and mopped the kitchen floor. She started a load of wash, emptied a load of laundry from the dryer and carried it up to Abbie’s room. She took a couple of towels out of the hamper in the bathroom, wondered where the others were, and guessed where they were at once. She didn’t want to intrude uninvited, but with one quick glance, she found most of the towels in Lily’s room, some still damp, tossed on a chair or the end of her bed or on the floor, mixed in with the mounds of discarded clothing. She gathered them up, washed and dried two loads of towels, and folded and put them away. She liked thinking of what a luxury it was to come home from landscaping or taking care of a child on the beach, to have a shower and step out to find a fluffy clean towel waiting. She tried not to think judgmental thoughts about Lily, but it wa
s hard.
It was almost six o’clock, so everyone would be arriving any moment. At least Jim would be. Marina sliced cucumbers, carrots, and zucchini and set them out with a light yogurt dip. She’d start the bluefish baking when they were here—this recipe would take exactly twenty minutes. She’d gotten pretty good at cooking fish.
She popped into the downstairs bathroom to check her reflection in the mirror. She looked great, tanned and relaxed and happy. If she could run a business, she could run a family!
The back screen door slammed, and Jim called hello. She went out to greet him with a kiss and a hug. He grabbed a beer and sat at the table, and then Abbie came in.
“Hi, Abbie. I’m about to open a bottle of wine. Want a glass?” Marina held up a bottle of chilled Vino Verde.
Abbie shrugged and collapsed in a chair. “That would be great. Thanks.”
Marina had heard about the frightful fall the child Abbie was caring for had taken on the carousel, but Abbie had not asked her advice about it, and Marina was restraining herself from offering advice. After all, she’d never had a child. But it made her sad to see how the sparkle had gone out of Abbie.
Emma came in just then, and she seemed even sadder than Abbie.
“Do I have time for a quick shower before dinner?” Emma asked as she kicked off her gardening clogs. She’d spent the day working with Marcia on landscaping jobs and her skin was plastered with dirt. She even had leaves in her hair.
“Sure.” Marina loved it, how Emma just assumed Marina was there. “Want to take a glass of wine up with you?”
“Thanks, Marina.” Emma took the glass and padded barefoot out of the room.
Marina put the fish into the preheated oven and began to set the table. Jim sat relaxed in his chair, telling Abbie about a friend of theirs who’d gotten so thoroughly covered with poison ivy he’d had to be hospitalized. Marina checked the lobster pot—the water was simmering—so she sat down next to Abbie, handed her an ear of corn, and they stripped the husks off a dozen ears of sweet Nantucket corn as they talked.
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