A Nantucket Wedding(24)



“She did? I thought she was completely immersed in her Mother Goddess Save the World Eat Beans role.”

“She’s different when Noah’s not around. She ate meat. Steak for dinner and bacon for breakfast.”

David laughed his low chuckling laugh. “What a temptress you are. Are you coming home tomorrow?”

“Absolutely. It’s lonely here without you. I’ll try to get down here when the children—yours or mine—want to come, but I want to be with you as much as I can.”

“Good. That’s what I want, too.”

Alison heard a sudden roar, and she knew the game was starting. “Go watch your game,” she said. “I’ll call you before I go to sleep tonight.”



* * *





During the work week, Jane forced herself to remain pleasant, calm, engaging. And so the evenings she spent with Scott passed without argument.

But when Thursday evening came, as she slipped into bed next to her husband, Jane said, “Scott, I wish you’d come to the island with me this weekend. I enjoyed being there so much, and I know you’d enjoy it, too. David Gladstone’s house is like a contemporary castle. All modern and clean and full of light and air. And it’s huge, so if Felicity and her brood are there, or David’s son, Ethan”—she felt a zing through her body as she said Ethan’s name—“we could still have our privacy.”

    “I’m glad you had a good time,” Scott said. “And I agreed we’ll go there for the wedding. And let’s go after our hiking trip in August.”

“I want to go instead of the Wales trip.”

“You’re kidding.” Scott quirked an eyebrow. “We’ve been planning it all year. We’ve made all the flight and hotel reservations—”

“I know that. But we also bought the travel insurance so we won’t lose any money if we cancel.”

“You want to cancel the hiking trip? Jane, honestly, I don’t understand this sudden love for sand and sunshine. You’ve never been a beach girl.”

“Scott, you have to come with me to understand. We won’t have to lie in the sun. We can bike, kayak, sail, play tennis, golf—”

“Yes, but we can’t hike.”

“Well, we don’t have to hike. No one’s holding a gun to your head saying: You Must Hike. Plus, we can certainly walk. I’ve read about all sorts of paths and trails.” Reaching over, Jane put her hand on Scott’s. “Why not come with me this weekend? I think once you’re there, you’ll see what I mean. David’s daughter, Poppy, will be there. She’s being groomed to take over the company, so the two of you can talk business all the time.”

Scott reached for the remote control and clicked on the TV. “I want to catch the BBC news. I think Japan’s moving some money.”

In one supple move, Jane whipped around to sit on her husband’s legs, blocking his view of the television. “We have money. Now I want something else. I want family. I need family. I’m sorry your parents are dead. I’m sorry you’re an only child. But you know you’ve always enjoyed being around my mother, and isn’t it fun talking about Felicity after we’ve seen her? My family is your family, too, Scott. All I’m asking for is one weekend.”

    Scott clicked the TV off. He leaned back against the headboard, his striped pajamas so crisp from the laundry it seemed he was still dressed for work.

“You’ve changed,” he said.

“Yeah, I have,” Jane agreed. “That’s what happens in life. Things change. People change.”

“I think you’re trying to blackmail me.”

“What?”

“Before we married, you and I agreed we wouldn’t have children, and now you’ve decided you want a baby. Or even two.”

“Scott—”

“You’re going to work yourself up into a frenzy and accuse me of being aloof and strange because I don’t want children and I don’t want to hang out with your sister’s children and your mother’s fiancé’s daughter’s children. You think if I come see all those adorable kids, I’ll want one of my own.”

Sometimes, Jane thought, she believed Scott could read her mind.

“I have never worked myself up into a frenzy,” she argued.

“No? When you first brought up the subject of children, and I said no way, didn’t you burst into tears and spend all day—a beautiful sunny Sunday—crying?”

“That hardly qualifies as a frenzy.”

“Look, Jane, first of all, move. You’re crushing my legs.”

She sat beside him on the bed, gathering her thoughts. She remembered the advice a law teacher had given her: don’t try to win the enormous argument at first. Just try to get a yes about a small matter. Isn’t it a nice day? Didn’t we meet at the ballet? Give back a yes to show you’re willing to negotiate.

“How about this. If you’ll come to Nantucket for the weekend, I promise I won’t bring up the matter of children for an entire week.”

“I love you, but that bargain won’t work. We made an agreement when we got married and I won’t shift from my position. Anyway, I can’t understand why it’s so important to you. You’ve always said your sister’s family is noisy and undisciplined and chaotic. And now David’s children and grandchildren will be there, too? Sorry. I’m going to pass.”

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