He has always been a jerk. Back when Willa and Rip used to babysit Peter, they were constantly doing damage control. Peter was a biter and a toy-stealer and a sand-thrower, and no amount of reprimands or time-outs ever changed his behavior. In school, he was diagnosed with ADHD, put on Adderall, taken off Adderall, sent to Proctor Academy his sophomore year, kicked out of Proctor for smoking (and selling) weed, then sent back to Nantucket High School. He had to repeat a grade, which put him in the same class as Leo. Leo loathed Peter. “I know he’s sort of family,” Leo said. “But he’s a prick.”
Willa can’t imagine why Pamela is out here in Smith’s Point. She never stopped by the house at Quaker Road, and that was infinitely closer.
“Hi?” Willa says. Pamela is still in the Rover but her window is down; she’s typing something on her phone. “Everything okay?”
Pamela looks up. “Fine.”
“Okay?” Willa says. Is this a social visit, then? It’s a stunning evening, filled with the mellow golden light of early summer. “Do you want a tour? It looks a lot better…”
“Not right now,” Pamela says. She offers Willa a rare smile. “How are you feeling?”
Willa isn’t sure what Pamela is asking. Is she talking about Willa’s earth-shattering loss? Or about her pregnancy? Rip told his sister that Willa was pregnant again, which was (sort of) fine, except Pamela then went and shared the news with the elder Bonhams and so now Tink and Chas are treating Willa like she’s made of bone china. Their desire to pass along the family name has grown only more fervent with time.
Willa hasn’t told her brother and sister, her father, or even Savannah that she’s pregnant. She’s going to wait until after she gets her ultrasound, which is in another six weeks.
“I’m okay, I guess,” Willa says. (Not eating, not sleeping.) “I was glad to move out here.”
Pamela sniffs. “It’s quiet, anyway. Peaceful.”
Willa nods, wondering what Pamela wants. Maybe she’s just checking in. Maybe she feels bad for Willa and intends to offer herself as a mother substitute. The idea is nearly laughable.
“You’re sure you don’t want to come in?” Willa says. “I wish I had something other than tap water to offer you. I think Rip and I are just going to get takeout from Millie’s. I can’t handle the grocery store yet. Too many people. Their eyes give them away—I know they feel sorry for me. Some of them come up and offer their sympathies. Others wave and say hello like everything is normal.”
Pamela looks at Willa and an amazing thing happens: Pamela’s eyes fill with tears. Pamela Bonham Bridgeman is displaying human emotion. Willa tries to abandon her cynicism. Had Pamela liked Vivi? Admired her, maybe? Willa remembers no special connection. Pamela habitually referred to Vivi’s books as “fluff” and always seemed a little pissed off that her husband was such a fan.
“If I share something with you, do you promise not to tell anyone?” Pamela asks. “Even Rip?”
What is this? Willa thinks. A confidence? A…secret? Willa’s mind starts racing. What is happening here? Is Willa’s dream for the past twelve years—half her life—of having a normal relationship with her sister-in-law finally coming true?
“Of course,” Willa says. She isn’t sure she’ll be able to keep whatever this is from Rip, but she’ll try.
“I think Zach is having an affair,” Pamela says.
Willa feels a surge of what she can only describe as lurid excitement. Though she’s aghast too, of course.
“In fact, I’m sure he is,” Pamela says.
Vivi
“This is getting good,” Vivi says. She has pulled one of the peach silk soufflé chairs right up to the edge of the room. “We need popcorn.” She tilts her head. “Why isn’t there food up here? Why isn’t there wine?”
“Heavenly banquet,” Martha says. “Once you join the choir.”
“Only then?”
“Reward for all that singing.”
“Will there be truffle fries?” Vivi asks. “Tequila?”
“Vivian, please,” Martha says. “Let’s focus on the matter at hand.”
The matter at hand: Pamela thinks Zach is having an affair. Vivi knows she should be more sympathetic toward Pamela. After all, Vivi has been in the exact same spot, except Vivi didn’t have to figure it out. JP had marched into the house one late-summer evening and told Vivi he’d “fallen” for Amy, sounding almost proud of himself.
But Pamela is an unsympathetic character in this story. If Vivi were still alive and Willa had confided Pamela’s suspicions about Zach to Vivi, Vivi might have said, Good for him.