The Guilt Trip(8)

“Oh, baby, it’s beautiful!” squeals Ali as the minivan moves slowly up the inclined driveway—the lit chrome bollards making it look like a little runway from which they’re about to take flight. Rachel nervously grabs Jack’s hand as her eyes follow the cal?ada paving until it seems to disappear into the abyss.

Thankfully, the van stops short, though not in time to stop Rachel’s hand from growing clammy. Jack gives her a reassuring smile, as if he knows that her mind momentarily saw them all going over the edge.

Noah whistles appreciatively through his teeth as the oversized front door swings open onto a breathtaking double-height room. An open fireplace sits in the middle, its stone-clad chimney reaching up into the vaults of the ceiling.

Rachel feels Jack relax beside her as he looks around the vast space, his fears at what his nomadic brother could have had them staying in immediately allayed.

She’d often wondered how two boys who were brought up together could have such different outlooks. While Jack needed to check his schedule several times a day, and was known to call restaurants to confirm an already confirmed reservation, Will didn’t know where he was going to be from one day to the next. If he woke up and felt the need to go to a kibbutz in Israel, he could well be at one by that evening. He’d just throw his meager belongings into a backpack and head to wherever he felt the calling. He was at his happiest spending the night under the stars, with nothing but a stretched piece of tarpaulin separating him from the elements. Hence why Jack—and she, too, she has to admit—are so relieved to be standing here, in front of glass doors that wrap around three of the walls, looking out onto an azure-blue swimming pool lit by underwater spotlights.

Will excitedly pulls back one of the patio doors and invites them to step out onto the polished concrete terrace. There’s a saltiness in the air that tells Rachel she’s close to the ocean, but it’s the crashing of the waves that proves just how close. It’s so difficult to get your bearings when you go somewhere new, especially in the fading light, but she knows that, once morning comes, she’ll be able to explore and get a feel for where she is. Right now, the roar of the Atlantic resounds in her ears, making her shiver involuntarily.

Jack puts his arm around her shoulders. “It’s stunning, mate, it really is.”

Will smiles, seemingly relieved by his big brother’s appreciation.

“Which one’s our room?” asks Ali, hanging onto Will’s arm like a limpet. “I hope we’ve got the honeymoon suite.”

Will’s eyes light up. “You’re not going to believe it,” he says, taking Ali by the hand. “Let me show you.”

“Well, this is all right, isn’t it?” says Jack, taking a deep breath of sea air and stretching his arms up.

“This is better than all right, mate,” says Noah jovially.

“It’s like something out of the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills!” Paige laughs, unable to disguise her glee.

“See, I told you it wasn’t going to be all bad,” muses Rachel as she bumps her shoulder into Paige.

“Let’s see if the groom’s managed to get any sundries in,” says Jack as he walks back into the house.

“Does red wine fall under that category?” asks Noah, following him.

“I bloody hope so!” Jack laughs. It’s the first time that he’s seemed genuinely relaxed.

“This really is something,” says Paige, as she and Rachel stay where they are, looking out into the darkness. The moon is shrouded in thin clouds, casting a sliver of light across the inky-black sea below, and Rachel can’t help but shudder again at the proximity of the ocean, and all that lies beneath its surface.

“Here, do you want this?” asks Paige, pulling her pashmina from her shoulders and offering it to Rachel.

“Thanks,” she says, gratefully taking it.

Paige pulls the shawl up onto Rachel’s shoulders. “You’re very forgiving of her, you know,” she says.

“Who?” asks Rachel, unnecessarily.

“You know who.”

Rachel shrugs. “What else am I supposed to do? She’s going to be family soon and you know what they say…?”

Paige looks at her with raised eyebrows.

“You can’t choose your family…” Rachel goes on.

“She should certainly come with an instruction to only take in small doses,” says Paige, half laughing.

Rachel chuckles. “I’ll give you that, but once the wedding’s out of the way, we’ll probably not see that much of her. It’s poor Will we should feel sorry for.”

“Why have we got to feel sorry for him?” asks Jack, returning to the terrace with two glasses of red wine. He hands one to Rachel, and Noah gives another to Paige.

“Ssh,” says Rachel, pulling Jack toward a sunken seating area. It’s only as she collapses into the cushions that she realizes that a firepit is simmering in front of her.

“Don’t you find it tiresome?” asks Paige, sitting down.

“What?” asks Jack.

“Her!” says Paige, nodding her head in the direction they’d last seen Ali.

Jack takes a large slug of wine.

“She’s just so full-on,” says Paige. “Even before she’s had a drink.”

“You’re full-on, even before you’ve had a drink,” says Jack, laughing.