A Nantucket Wedding(27)

After dinner, everyone sat out on the deck, enjoying the cool evening air and the changing sky. Felicity kept saying that it was time to put the children to bed, but she was having her second slice of blueberry pie and couldn’t rouse herself from her lounger. Jane sat near her at the round wooden table drinking sparkling water. Ethan and Patrick were cleaning the kitchen, a fairly massive job after so many people had eaten blueberry pie and ice cream. Alison protested that no, she should do the kitchen, they were here on a little holiday, but David took Alison’s hand and led her outside, where he whispered, “Let them clean the kitchen. They’re trying to impress you, to make you like them.”

    “But I do like them!” Alison whispered.

“Yeah, well, it won’t hurt to make them sweat a little. You’ve already done so much, making this huge dinner.” He touched Alison’s knee with his own. “Besides, I need you to rest up so you’ve got some energy left for later.”

Alison squeezed his hand.

Jane had her phone on the table, even though she knew her mother did not approve of having it out when there were real people to talk with. She needed her phone for defense—defense against her own rogue desires. Each time Ethan looked at her, Jane experienced his gaze as if it were a caress. How could Jane possibly do what her mother wanted and make friends with David’s children when she wanted to have sex with one of them?

Damn Scott. He could at least call.

All right, Jane thought. She’d make an effort. “Poppy, I think you work with your father at English Garden Creams, right?”

Poppy yawned. “I do.”

“What sorts of—” Jane began.

But Poppy interrupted. “—work do I do? I’m taking over the company from Dad. But not before maternity leave when I have this little one.” She patted her belly smugly, as if too stunned with hormonal pleasure to make an effort to have a conversation.

Jane stopped breathing. Poppy was pregnant? She already had two children. How did Poppy get three children and Jane didn’t get any? This was completely ridiculous thinking, Jane knew, but she was paralyzed with envy.

“How far along are you?” Felicity asked.

“Four months, more or less.”

“So you’re probably over the morning sickness bit,” Felicity said. “I remember—”

“Oh, God, I don’t know. It’s so boring, talking about pregnancy.” Poppy stood up. “I’m going to bed. I can’t seem to get enough sleep. Good night, everyone.”

    Jane and Felicity exchanged glances as Poppy strolled into the house.

“I thought we’d sail out to Coatue tomorrow,” David said. “Take a picnic, swim.”

“Sounds good, Dad,” Ethan said, coming out from the kitchen.

Patrick was right behind him, a tall, broad-shouldered, redheaded Viking of a man. “Kitchen’s done,” he announced.

Jane checked her phone—no messages. “Tomorrow’s forecast is for clouds,” Jane told the group, reading from the small screen. “High in the low eighties, wind at fifteen miles per hour, humidity fifty percent.”

“Perfect,” David said.

“No message from Scott?” Felicity asked.

“Not yet.” Jane was on the verge of tears. Damn Scott! But she would drown herself before she cried in front of everyone. She stood up. “I’m going for a walk. Felicity?”

“I’ll stay here. The children,” she added in explanation.

The year had almost reached the summer solstice, and light remained in the sky past nine o’clock. Ethan had brought glow sticks for the children, who were now playing hide-and-seek around the house and in the bushes.

“It’s past their bedtime and they’ve been wild,” Felicity added. “Any minute now one of them will start crying and I’ll have to wrestle them to bed.”

Ethan rose. “I could use a walk after having two helpings of blueberry pie.” He patted his perfectly flat belly.

Uh-oh! Jane thought, but with everyone watching, she said, “Sure. Join me.”

Single file, Jane and Ethan walked through the wild rosebushes to the beach. The white curls of surf were almost fluorescent in the fading light, and they surged up and sank into the warm sand with soft sounds like whispers.

Jane ambled in and out of the waves, aware that Ethan was near her, near enough to touch. Not that she would touch even his hand, of course she wouldn’t. It was enough to have him near. To know that he had chosen to join her.

    “You said you enjoy hiking,” Ethan said. “Where have you gone?”

Jane knew she was blushing with pleasure simply because Ethan remembered what she’d said at their first meeting. She bent over to hide her face, pretending to inspect a shell. “Mostly in the U.S. Colorado, Death Valley, Sedona, Mount Washington in New Hampshire. And Scotland, last year.”

Ethan walked nearer to her, almost touching. “So you like adventure, a taste of danger.”

Was that a challenge? Jane said lightly, “Nothing compared to you. Hang gliding? Skydiving?”

“Life is short,” Ethan said. “I believe we should live large, follow our desires.”

Jane sniffed. “Only someone who is independently wealthy can say that.”