Every Vow You Break(40)
“No, no way.” Eric held up his hands, Abigail noticing all the chunky rings again. Had he been wearing all of those in California? “You guys are on your honeymoon. I wouldn’t dare.”
“Well, if you change your mind.”
“Yeah,” Abigail said. “If you change your mind, join us.”
“I won’t, but thanks. And I should let you both be alone here now as well. I was just passing through, really, and now I’m starting to think about brunch.”
Hearing the word “brunch” made Abigail check the time on her Fitbit. It was ten-thirty already—how long had she been sleeping?
—and she realized that she had to hurry if she didn’t want to be late to her swimming pool date with Jill.
“Take it easy, you two,” Eric said, and spun and left, heading toward the steep path that led back up to the bluff.
“You were asking him a lot of personal questions,” Bruce said when Eric was out of earshot.
“He gives me the creeps, that guy. He came up to me the first night we were here, while you were getting drinks at the bar. He said he was sure he knew me from somewhere, and he asked me if I’d been to Piety Hills Vineyard.”
“So he must have seen you there, on your bachelorette weekend.”
“Yeah, but I don’t remember him. It’s creepy, don’t you think?”
“Doesn’t sound that creepy to me, but we can avoid him. It definitely didn’t sound like he was interested in having dinner with us.”
“Thank God for that,” Abigail said, then reminded Bruce that she was supposed to go swimming with Jill this morning, and they began the walk back to the resort. They didn’t talk again about Eric Newman on the walk, but Abigail was acutely aware that she had just actively lied to Bruce for the first time, that she’d laid the foundation for further lies, if it came to that.
She didn’t get to the grotto pool until eleven thirty-five. There was no one there, and Abigail was relieved that she hadn’t kept Jill waiting.
She slid into the warm water of the pool, pushed herself from the side, and skimmed along the surface. After she had swum back and forth a few times a staff member mysteriously appeared, the same man who’d been there the day before, and Abigail asked him if there’d been a woman here earlier. He told her no, and Abigail ordered a Greyhound.
At noon Abigail gave up on Jill. She drank the dregs of her drink and stepped out of the pool, leaving a trail of water as she walked to the dressing room.
CHAPTER 17
At dinner that night Abigail kept looking toward the door to the dining room, hoping to see Jill and Alec.
“Who are you watching for?” Bruce said, slicing into his rabbit.
“Oh, sorry,” Abigail said. “Jill. I haven’t seen her all day.”
“You going to let her have it for standing you up?” Bruce smiled.
“No, I’m just worried, I guess.”
“What are you worried about? She’s on her honeymoon, too.
She’s probably just spending the day inside with Alec.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Abigail’s main course was a vegetable tart, now all gone, and she was nervously scraping up the remnants with her fork.
“And don’t forget. They’ll bring you your dinner to your room if you want. That’s probably what they did.”
“Right,” Abigail said. “That’s probably what they did.”
Abigail saw Eric Newman in the dining room, eating by himself at one of the corner tables. He’d brought a book with him, and there was something pathetic about the way he was sitting alone at the table, the book propped open in front of him, but with his eyes nervously scanning the room. After their encounter on the beach Abigail felt a little better about the possibility that he would simply stop bothering her. He clearly hadn’t been prepared for being called by his real name, or for being questioned about his wife. Maybe he really was just a pathetic delusional man who believed that he’d found his soul mate. Maybe, by challenging him the way she had, Abigail had destroyed some of his illusions about her.
“I’m tired tonight,” Abigail said as they ate their dessert. She didn’t want to linger in the hall after dinner, even though she was still hoping to see Jill and find out what had caused her to miss their swimming date.
“Me, too. Straight to the bunk after this?”
“That would be nice.”
The air was cool as they made their way down the sloping lawn toward their bunk, holding their fake lanterns. When they were near their door something rattled in a nearby shrub and Abigail jumped.
“What’s that?” she said.
“Probably a raccoon, or maybe a fox,” Bruce said. He approached the shrub and they both heard something slink away.
“It’s strange to think there are animals on this island,” Abigail said as she entered the bunk.
“Why?”
“Because they’d be stuck here. I mean, how’d they even get here in the first place? Birds I understand, because they can fly away, but where did the foxes come from?”
“They came from other foxes. Do you need me to explain it to you?”
Inside the bunk the fire had been lit. Abigail went to the hidden refrigerator and pulled out a wine-sized bottle that turned out to be a beer called King Titus. “Wanna split this?” she asked.