A Nantucket Wedding(19)

    “And what did Esmeralda wear then?” Felicity asked. “Sorry for a girly-girl question.”

“No problem. She wore a kind of long white slip embroidered with daisies and stalks of wheat. She had it designed and made for her. And a wreath of flowers in her hair. And red cowboy boots with sparkles. We had a country-western band and a barbecue and we danced and partied until sunrise.”

“Sounds fabulous!” Jane said.

“Why did you two divorce?” Felicity asked.

“Felicity,” Jane said.

“What?” Felicity smiled sweetly at her sister. “I’m just trying to get to know Ethan. After all, he’s going to be our brother.”

“Stepbrother,” Jane corrected.

“We wanted two completely different lives,” Ethan said. “It’s as simple as that. I’m not sorry. I got Canny out of the deal.”

Felicity telegraphed a look at Jane.

“Look.” Alison pointed to the sky. “This is the part I love, when the sun’s rays turn the edges of the clouds pink.”

They were silent for a while, watching the spectacle of the slowly setting sun.

“Oh, Jane,” Felicity said spontaneously, “isn’t it wonderful here on Nantucket? Let’s make plans to come back here as often as possible. I’ll bring the children, so you can get to know them.”

“I want some time with them, too!” Alison reminded Felicity.

“Sure, Mom. Then Jane and I can spend some—what is it called—quality time together.”

    “That’s a good idea, Filly,” Jane said. “Yes, let’s come here as often as possible this summer.”

Maybe it was the way the sun slanted in Felicity’s eyes, but it seemed that Jane was looking at Ethan, not at Felicity, when she spoke.





seven


Sunday morning, Felicity stayed snug in her bed, luxuriating in the pleasure of this weekend: the incredibly blue ocean, the sea breeze, the sun on her shoulders, the delicious food, yesterday’s massage, and, she had to admit, the blissful silence, the utter luxury of walking and talking without being pulled on or summoned by a child’s cry.

Yet she missed her family. After she’d showered and dressed, she picked up her iPhone.

“Mommy Mommy Mommy!” Luke screamed into the phone, inadvertently pushing all the buttons so that beeps and rings interrupted his voice. And then the phone went dead.

Felicity waited a few seconds and tried again. “Hi, Mommy.” Her older child, her competent daughter, Alice, had the phone now. In the background, Luke, deprived of the phone, was shouting.

“How are you all, darling?”

    “Daddy’s letting us watch cartoons!”

“Oh, how special,” Felicity cooed, as a flick of resentment stung her. Noah didn’t like her allowing the children to watch television.

“And Ingrid came over last night to bring us dinner and watch a movie!”

Felicity rocked backward, hit hard in her chest. “Ingrid came over?” she echoed.

Ingrid came over. Ingrid Black was Noah’s assistant at work. Felicity had met her at the company party last Christmas. Fifty people, more or less, milled around the large function room at the Marriott hotel in Newton. It had a great view of the Charles River, or it did during daylight hours. In December, it was dark at five, although you could still see the sparkling lights of cars passing on Commonwealth Avenue.

Luke was five and Felicity joked that she still hadn’t lost all her baby weight. Her breasts were plump in spite of all the nursing she’d done, so she’d worn her prettiest dress, cut low to show off her cleavage, falling in loose layers over her stomach and hips. She’d had her hair coiffed at a salon, a luxury for her, and she’d had the time to put on lipstick and blush and eyeliner because Crystal, their babysitter, was already there, reading to the children.

Noah wore a black cashmere turtleneck and black pants. “You look very Steve Jobs,” Felicity had teased, and Noah had not laughed. In the car on the way to the hotel, they hadn’t really talked, even though thirty minutes together without a child shrieking was a rare experience.

Felicity had tried. “I’m wondering if you could do some boy stuff with Luke,” she’d said. “He’s wildly energetic. I bet he’ll be a natural at sports.”

Noah sighed. “I’ll try. But you know this is a critical time for Green Food.”

Felicity felt her mouth tighten into the disapproving moue she kept making without thinking these days. It was always a critical time for Noah’s business. Lighten up, she ordered herself. Frantically, she searched her brain for a topic she could discuss that wasn’t about the children or why the downstairs toilet kept clogging. Something fun. But she didn’t even know celebrity gossip these days, so she’d been silent for the rest of the ride.

    Noah had his hand on Felicity’s back when they entered the party, but he was so much the star that he was quickly surrounded by his staff. Felicity had gone off to the bar to get a glass of wine. She’d settled alone at a table, watching the crowd, smiling to see how the staff clustered around Noah. He would be in such a good mood for the next few days!

One woman gazed up at Noah with shining adoration. She was short and her face was—Felicity chided herself for even thinking this, she was a feminist after all!—ordinary. She always tried to be generous with her thoughts even if no one else could hear her thinking them. Well, Felicity had thought kindly, the woman has blond hair. Blondes are always special. She knew. She was blond.