A Nantucket Wedding(8)
Felicity pounced. “How?”
Alison put back her head and laughed. “Oh, honey, if only I could tell you in one quick and easy sentence! Janey, pour the wine. Let’s sit on the deck for a while.”
They sat at the round wood table, moving their chairs to face the water.
“So beautiful,” Felicity said. “The way the colors change as the waves ripple.”
“How much of the year will you and David spend here?” Jane asked.
“Not so much, at least not together. He’s turning his business over to his daughter, Poppy, and that’s an enormously complicated process. So until he’s out from under it all, I’ll be down here more than he will. When he’s free, fully retired, I imagine we’ll be here a lot. Summers, definitely. Plus the fall is an unsung glory here, so I assume we’ll stay through October. And we’ll want to be here some Christmases—and you girls should come, too, at least for the Stroll. Your children would love it, Felicity. Winter? I think we’ll travel, take a cruise. Come back here in April for the Daffodil Festival.”
“Gosh,” Felicity said. “You and David have made a lot of plans.”
Alison chuckled. “I’ve made a lot of plans. David is so invested in his company. I think he’s finding it difficult to let go. I’m trying to slow him down, stop him from working so hard, get him to enjoy life. Smell the roses. No one knows what tomorrow will bring—”
“Carpe diem,” Felicity said. “Seize the day.”
“Um, yes,” Alison responded in a meditative tone, “but that’s not what I was going to say. I think I want more to simply be there in the day. Seizing sounds aggressive to me, almost hostile.” Alison took a deep sip of wine and gazed out at the water. “Yes,” she murmured, as much to herself as to her daughters. “Be there in the day.”
“I like that,” Jane said.
“You know,” Felicity mused, “I think motherhood makes me seize the day. Or really it’s the other way around. The day seizes me. The moment I open my eyes, I’m right there. Fixing breakfast, making coffee, finding someone’s lost sock, looming over my children like an ogre to make sure they brush their teeth, driving Alice to school, trying not to have a wreck while Alice and Luke are fighting over an ancient jelly bean that popped up in the car’s backseat, and I’m trying to get Luke to stop kicking the back of my seat and look at one of his books…then I get to the grocery store and Luke vomits all down the cart and his clothes.”
“Oh, Felicity!” Jane cried. “That sounds so hard!”
“That’s just the beginning of the day.” All at once, she burst out laughing. “Two Saturdays ago, I had the flu but the kids were fine and crazed with energy so I put coats on them and pulled a coat over my pajamas and staggered out into the fresh air so they could run around the yard, using up their excess energy. Then the UPS man, who is really a hunk, drove up to deliver a package. He was all tall and tanned and muscular and young, and he nodded at me and said, ‘How ya doin’, Mrs. Wellington?’ And I thought, that’s who I am, Mrs. Wellington, the crazy version. And as he drove away, I wanted to raise my arm in the air like Scarlett O’Hara in Gone with the Wind, and shout, ‘As God is my witness, I’ll never leave the house without combing my hair again!’ ”
Alison laughed. “Oh, Lord, I remember those days!”
Jane said soothingly, “Oh, Filly, you know you’re beautiful no matter what.”
Felicity snorted. “Yeah, well, Ethan clearly thinks you’re the beautiful one.”
“What?” Jane and Alison asked in unison.
“It’s true,” Felicity said. “When Ethan was in the kitchen, he couldn’t take his eyes off Jane. I might as well have been a chair.”
“You’re crazy,” Jane said.
“Not crazy,” Felicity protested and tears began to well in her eyes. “And I don’t blame him. You’ve got a fabulous haircut and you’re thin and toned and so all that. I’ve gotten all saggy and maternal. I should buy some of those ‘mom jeans’ Tina Fey jokes about.”
Jane and Alison exchanged worried glances.
“Oh, sweetie,” Alison said. “That’s not true at all.”
Jane rose from her chair and bent over Felicity and enclosed her in a warm hug. “I think you’re just tired.”
Felicity sniffed. “Sorry I’m so pathetic. You’re right. I am tired.”
Alison rose. “I think it’s time we grilled the steak. Jane, will you take over at the grill? I’ve coated the asparagus in olive oil and kosher salt, so when you turn the steak, put the asparagus on.” She gathered up the wine and her glass. “Felicity, would you bring the other glasses in? I’ll toss the salad.”
Felicity was grateful that her mother didn’t comment on her outburst. Wryly, she admitted to herself that Alison had seen plenty of Felicity’s meltdowns before. On the deck, gathering the glasses, she paused to let the aroma of grilled steak seduce her. Her mouth watered. Sometimes it sucked, being a vegetarian.
Back in the house, her mother said, “Toss the potatoes in butter in that bowl over there, the blue and white striped one.”
At last they all sat down to eat. Felicity said, “I’m sorry, but would you mind?” Without waiting for answer, she sang, “Thank you for this food this food this glorious glorious food and thanks to the animals and the vegetables and the minerals that make it possible. Amen.”