would find out about it and an even slimmer chance that he would read it. A surprising thought crosses her mind: Maybe a teensy part of her, lurking in the dark chamber where she’s been hiding this secret all of these years, wanted Brett to know the truth. Maybe she wanted to confess.
She stares up at the ceiling and runs her hand along the soft velvet of the chaise. She can’t deny it—she feels lighter, nearly unburdened.
Amy
JP takes Monday off so he and Amy can go to the beach together. Amy puts on the new black bikini she optimistically bought on January 8, a week into her new year’s diet, and studies herself from every angle. She has bulges of fat at her middle that are threatening to turn into actual rolls; she’ll have to be careful how she sits. Her backside has filled out, but Amy thinks maybe the world likes this look now. (Sometimes at work, Lorna will grab Amy’s ass and say, “Dummy thicc,” which is apparently a compliment.) Amy puts on a diaphanous white cover-up and applies her expensive sunscreen and wishes she’d gotten a pedicure—she works at a salon!—but JP announced his intention to take a day off only the night before. It’s a spontaneous decision to spend quality time with the woman he loves…but it might also be a chance for them to have the “talk” he mentioned, something Amy has been studiously avoiding.
The ring is no longer in the top drawer. JP either returned it…or moved it. It might be in his truck. Is she grasping at straws? Oh, hell, probably—but it stands to reason that any proposal JP had planned would have been pushed back by Vivi’s death. It’s not impossible that he’s going to propose today.
JP is in charge of the food. Amy is hoping they can go to the Nickel for sandwiches but JP feels awkward about seeing Joe DeSantis because apparently Leo and Cruz aren’t speaking. JP makes ham and Swiss with thin slices of ripe fig and a combination of mayo and Dijon on toasted sourdough that he got at Born and Bread. He packs a bag of dill-pickle-flavored potato chips (Amy’s favorite, a nice touch), some cold grapes, and several bottles of water.
Amy notices there’s no alcohol—no bottle of Whispering Angel rosé, no champagne, not even a beer. She nearly says something, but the picnic is JP’s department and she won’t interfere.
She’s deluding herself about the proposal. Nobody proposes without champagne.
As Amy wanders into the mudroom for towels, her expectations pop like so many party balloons. The best-case scenario now is that she and JP will have a nice, quiet, relaxing day at the beach. She grabs their striped beach umbrella, two chairs, the book she’s been reading since Christmas, and the book JP is reading, which is Golden Girl. Amy considers leaving it behind. Would it be too much to ask to have a beach day without bringing Vivi along?
Vivi is dead, Amy reminds herself. Her continued jealousy is childish and absurd. She tucks the novel into her bag.
When they’re finally ensconced in the front seat of JP’s pickup, she says, “So where are we going?”
“Fat Ladies,” he says.
“It’s just Ladies,” Amy corrects him.
“It was always Fat Ladies when I was growing up.”
“Well, it’s no longer appropriate to use that name. It’s body-shaming.”
JP scoffs.
“It’ll be crowded at Ladies,” Amy says. “What about Great Point?”
“Too far,” JP says, and Amy’s last hope is quashed. Daytime proposals always take place at Great Point; evening proposals on Steps Beach as the sun sets. “But you’re right. Ladies will be crowded. Let’s go to Ram Pasture.”
Amy doesn’t have the heart to say no but she hates Ram Pasture because that’s the beach where JP and Vivi went on their first date. JP has told Amy the story about how he met Vivi at the dry cleaner’s, asked her out, and took her to the beach for the day, which turned into a full-fledged summer romance, which led to us getting married. JP told Amy this story during her first week of work at the Cork, and at the time, Amy thought it was cute and romantic. She also thought JP and Vivi were happily married, a notion that eroded like a sandcastle in the surf over the course of the summer.
Maybe JP doesn’t associate that beach with Vivi any longer, but it’s undeniable that certain places remind you of certain people. Subconsciously, JP must be thinking of Vivi.