A Nantucket Wedding(54)



“For God’s sake, Felicity. You’re getting irrational.”

“So, it’s only Ingrid you’ve been with. Do you love her?”

Noah dropped his head. Muttered something.

“I didn’t hear you, Noah.”

He lifted his head and looked Felicity right in the eyes. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. But I know she loves me more than you do.”

Stung, Felicity almost cried: Oh, don’t be such a baby, Noah! But she held her tongue. “Oh,” she said. “Wow. What a terribly sad thing to think, Noah. It’s not true, you know, I love you more than the world. But romance often gets lost in marriage.”

“That’s for sure.”

Felicity spoke slowly, finding her way, watching Noah’s reactions. “I know you’re tired and terribly stressed. I do know that. I know you’re working toward something enormous and world-changing. I know you can’t find time for a vacation, but really, I think it would help your work if you took just a weekend off. A weekend to come to the island with me and the kids. Alison would spoil you with wonderful food, and you could swim in the ocean—and you know, Noah, the ocean is magical. I mean, scientifically magical. I’ve read articles about this. Being near the ocean, looking out at the ocean, that soothes your thoughts. And you could lie on the beach with the sun on your back and not think of anything at all. And that’s good for your brain, too, I’ve read about that.”

    She watched carefully. Noah’s shoulders dropped, the muscles in his neck and jaw relaxed, his breathing deepened.

“So the ocean will give you new energy. And I can take you behind a sand dune and remind you of some of the things we did when we were first married.”

“I’ve got so much to do, Felicity.”

“You can leave it for two days.”

“I don’t know, Felicity.”

“Let’s find out.”



* * *





Monday night the Nantucket fireworks were magical, a true extravaganza, made even more exciting by the boats in the harbor that blew their horns whenever an especially fabulous pinwheel dazzled through the air. By the time the grand finale had finished, the children were hoarse from yelling and Alison’s hands stung from applauding. Because of the crowd, the family had to park their cars blocks away. As the Gladstones and Jane hiked back among the throng of other people, everyone, even the children, was too tired to talk. Once they arrived back at the house, Daphne and Hunter went to bed without begging to stay up later.

“Let’s play bridge,” Ethan suggested. “Jane’s agreed to be my partner. Dad, want to play? Poppy?”

“I’m exhausted,” Poppy told her brother. “Patrick has to rub my feet. After all, they’ve been carrying his baby all day.”

“Good night, all.” Patrick waved as his wife pulled him up the stairs.

“We’re going up, too,” David said. “I’m going to curl up with my laptop and catch up on the news.”

“Isn’t he romantic?” Alison complained, but her eyes twinkled. “I’ve got a book to finish. Can’t wait to see how it all turns out.”

“I guess I’ll go up, too,” Jane said.

“What?” Ethan protested. “You old fogies are going to leave me down here all alone? It’s too early.” He caught Jane’s hand and tugged gently. “Stay and keep me company.”

    There was that damned sexual electric spark again! Jane knew her mother could see how she was blushing.

“Scrabble,” Ethan specified. “Let’s play Scrabble.”

“I don’t know. I’m tired.” In truth, Jane felt anything but tired with Ethan standing so near, holding her hand.

“Just one game,” Ethan implored.

Jane hesitated. It would be one thing to agree to be his partner in bridge, with two other people at the table with them. But spending any time alone with Ethan could be dangerous. Yet she was so angry with Scott for not coming with her for this long weekend…“One game,” she said. “In the kitchen.” That room had the brightest lights.

“Be good, children,” Alison called as she and David went up the stairs to bed.

Ethan brought the game out of a cupboard and set it on the kitchen table. He sat down, and Jane sat across from him. Ethan’s blue T-shirt fit smoothly over his muscled torso and tanned biceps. The sun had bleached his hair to a shining gold, and he hadn’t had it cut recently, so it fell down over his forehead and shaggily around his face. He looked younger than he was, like a carefree surfer dude. An appropriate look for him, Jane thought. He may not surf, but he certainly seemed carefree. Did he not care at all that he was trying to seduce a married woman?

And how could she blame him, when she knew she was, at the least, approachable.

Ethan spilled the tiles out onto the table, and Jane helped him turn the letters facedown, being careful not to let her hand touch his.

After they chose their seven tiles and were arranging them on the tray, Ethan asked, “Want some coffee?”

“No, thanks. I’m going to have trouble sleeping without adding caffeine to the mix.” As soon as Jane spoke, she wanted to call the words back. Hurriedly, she added, “Because of work. I’m tasked with a complicated project, and I guess I feel guilty being here instead of being at home. At the office, I mean. I should be at the office.”

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