The High Season(16)

Penny and Elena exchanged a glance.

“Mindy doesn’t like how I dress,” she explained.

“Mindy? Belfry Mindy?” Penny asked. “Headband Mindy? I never met a green polo I didn’t like Mindy? Mindy with the husband who is most likely right this minute relaxing at home in velour?”

“That would be the one.”

“Why listen?” Elena asked in the sweet, rational tone with which she faced the world. A copter flew overhead and she had to shout the rest. “Everyone loves you!”

    “Except Mindy.”

“Nobody likes her!” Penny exploded. “She’s a pill! I was in a town meeting with her, my God! Hours of minutiae! She’s like a walking game of Trivial Pursuit, and if I’m playing, there should be a cocktail in my hand.” Penny tossed a shelled nut into the air and caught it in her mouth. “And speaking of minutiae, I saw your Catha this morning taking her ass-pirational walk.”

“She’s not my Catha, and what do you mean, aspirational?” Ruthie asked.

“First of all, she’s an ass,” Penny said. “You know that, right? Second, she goes on these woman walks.”

Ruthie nodded. “She leans in deep.”

“Please. Her route goes right by our house. I’m always there in the window with my tea. I started to notice. She only walks up. With women who can help her or her kids. You know, who’s married to the guy who runs something, or who can give her kid an internship. It’s so obvious. This morning she was walking with Doe, that tasty assistant person of yours who’s always looking at her phone.”

“Tasty?” Elena asked. “That’s gross, sweetie. She’s a kid.”

“I’m not leering, just characterizing. She’s adorable. My point is, Catha walked down. Odd.”

“Catha is Doe’s supervisor,” Ruthie said. “Maybe they were having a walking meeting.”

“What is this, California?”

“You don’t like Catha,” Ruthie said. “Everybody likes Catha. Why didn’t I know this?”

“You never asked. I don’t gossip unless you ask.”

“You just did, honey,” Elena said. “I like her okay. She’s on the Save the Wetlands committee with me. And she’s chair of the No Helipad on the North Fork committee. She drives a hybrid!”

Penny snorted. “And she’ll drive right over you in it. You think anybody who cares about the planet is a good person. The only things she stands for are herself and the Pledge of Allegiance.” She swiveled back to Ruthie. “Let’s get to the important stuff. How is Casa Berlinger? In other words, how’s the kitchen?”

    “Miele dishwasher. Aga stove!”

“Whoa, after clamming let’s go to your house,” Penny said. “It might be the only place I’ll be cooking this summer.”

“What?”

Elena and Penny exchanged a glance. Penny looked away, which allowed Ruthie to notice for the first time that she was upset. No wonder she was cracking nuts as though they were the bones of an enemy.

“The restaurant closed yesterday,” Elena said. “I mean, we knew it was dicey when the landlord raised the rent so high. In the end Aaron decided he just couldn’t make it through the summer. It’s not his fault.”

“It is his fault,” Penny objected. “He was a total shit for waiting for Memorial Day weekend to tell the staff. We’re all left flat. All the restaurants have hired already.”

“Someone will quit,” Ruthie said. “You know chefs. So volatile.”

“What the fuck do you mean, volatile? Elena thinks if I don’t manage to get a gig, we should sell the rental property and open our own restaurant,” she said. “Elena said I have to follow my dream or she’ll divorce me.”

“Please don’t talk about me in front of me, love,” Elena said.

“We went to this place last night in Greenport. Tiny! All this guy—Joe Somebody—serves is oysters and chowder. One fucking good wine list. He closes at eight. Is that genius? I was so happy, the oysters were so cold and briny, the place was packed, I loved the owner. Then I got home and was immediately depressed. What am I doing with my un-wild and precious life, anyway? I wish people would just stop quoting that fucking poem at me.”

“It’s all a sign you need to do something,” Elena said.

“Apparently I’ve been so miserable I’ve been impossible,” Penny said, opening the car door and tossing the bag of nuts inside. “I know I can’t be like you and Mike. I can’t be a happy divorced person. Remember that first year after you broke up? Horrible.”

    “I thought I was magnificent.”

“I’d need you all to hate Elena as much as I did, and it would be exhausting for everyone,” Penny went on. “My father keeps saying I shouldn’t rely on his will to support us. I’m fifty-five years old, and he still thinks I’m on the edge of financial disaster.”

“You are on the edge of financial disaster, sweetie,” Ruthie said, leaning against her. “We all are. And you’re fifty-seven.”

“Mike was so supportive,” Elena said. “I mean about the restaurant dream. We just ran into him in town.”