Girls of Summer(3)

The dining room burst into applause. The waiter popped the champagne. As Lisa and Erich toasted each other, she decided she truly and wholeheartedly loved him. He was good, smart, handsome, and ambitious, and he had chosen her. She could sense how much this evening meant to him, how pleased he was that everything was so perfect, and she was thrilled to be a partner in the creation of the moment.

The next day, though, as she spent one last hour walking on the beach with her best friend Rachel, she admitted that she had doubts.

“You’ve met him, Rachel,” Lisa said. “He’s like a prince. Why would he choose me?”

Rachel laughed. “Um, maybe because you’re beautiful and smart and kind?”

“But our worlds are so different. Can you see me in Washington, D.C., discussing foreign economies with people who know what they’re talking about?”

“Sure I can,” Rachel said. “I can see you doing anything. The question is, do you want to?”

   “I do. I really do. I mean, I do want to marry him.”

“But…?”

“But…” Lisa paused. “He doesn’t laugh a lot. He never belly laughs.”

“Maybe that’s because he’s not leaning on a bar drinking his thirteenth beer,” Rachel suggested. “Come on, Lisa. Look at the man. He’s important. His work is important.”

“I know.”

“Are you afraid?”

“Not afraid, no…”

“Do you believe he loves you?”

“I do.”

“Do you love him?”

Lisa hesitated. “Yes, I guess I do.”

“Then all the rest will work out,” Rachel assured her.



* * *



—

Erich wanted the wedding to be held in Washington, where all his parents’ friends could attend, where the ceremony could take place in the Washington National Cathedral and the reception at the Chevy Chase Club.

Lisa wanted to be married at home, on Nantucket, and friends of her parents had offered the yacht club for the reception, so that should be fancy enough for Erich’s parents and his friends.

They argued. In less than a month, they would graduate from Middlebury, and that didn’t leave them much time for a wedding before Erich began his duties with the Swiss bank. Most weddings on Nantucket were planned a year ahead, so most churches and wedding officials would be booked. She was her parents’ only child. This was important for them.

“Maybe we should wait,” Lisa suggested.

“Maybe we should elope,” Erich countered. “We don’t need all the fuss of a wedding, anyway. We’ve got more significant work to get on with.”

   The tiniest, almost unnoticeable chip of ice fell into Lisa’s heart. Of course saving desperate communities was important, but couldn’t a ceremony of their marriage be kind of important, too? Where was the romantic Erich who had so dramatically proposed to her in Le Languedoc?

They compromised. They were married in Lisa’s living room by the local county clerk, with her parents and her best friend Rachel in attendance. Erich’s parents were in Africa that month, and couldn’t come. They sent flowers, champagne, and a silver ice bucket engraved with the couple’s names and the date. After the brief ceremony, the small wedding party toasted with champagne, split the flowers among Lisa’s mother, Rachel, and the county clerk, and the newlyweds headed back to Middlebury to pack up and prepare for graduation.



* * *



—

After graduation, the married couple moved to D.C. where Erich joined his father in the bank. Lisa and Erich rented a small apartment in Washington near the Mall, and Erich dove headfirst into his work. Lisa cooked healthy meals and did laundry and spent the swampy hot summer visiting all the marvelous museums in the area. She missed Nantucket so very much—it was summer, after all. But she understood that this first year of marriage was crucial. She wanted to prove herself loyal, helpful. She couldn’t leave Erich for two weeks or even one.

Besides, she was realizing that she had to change if she wanted to be the right wife for Erich. The more she saw of Erich’s mother, Celeste, the more Lisa believed that Erich had chosen Lisa because she was warm, honest, receptive, a hugger, a toucher. Erich’s mother was so very much not a toucher, not even with her son. Celeste was elegant, but cool, communicating her displeasure most often by simply lifting one cynical eyebrow.

   Yet Celeste was kind to Lisa, even generous in her way. After Lisa’s first huge Washington society party, Celeste asked if Lisa would mind if Celeste gave her a few pointers about, for example, appearance. She suggested that Lisa have her long, wavy hair cut into a neat chin-length bob, trim and tidy. She approved of the two expensive and simple dresses Lisa had bought for the numerous cocktail parties. Celeste suggested simple dark pumps with no more than a two-inch heel, anything higher was tacky. Accessorize with small earrings and perhaps, as Celeste did, with an Hermès scarf. Lisa didn’t own an Hermès scarf, so Celeste told her to wear her pearls. When Lisa admitted she didn’t own pearls, Celeste gave her a pearl necklace for Christmas. After that, Lisa received an Hermès scarf for every birthday and every Christmas. Lisa was grateful to Celeste for the pointers and the advice, even though Celeste seemed to give them out of a sense of duty rather than friendship or love.