of lemon on the plate, and I squeeze it in and watch it bounce in the mug.
The tea does make me feel better.
After I finish it, Dante pushes me to take a shower.
I refuse, but he keeps nagging, and eventually give in, mainly because I can't keep talking about it.
I hate to admit it, but I emerge a new woman.
I'm not saying that the hangover is gone. Far from it, but I feel refreshed and awake, more energized. Still not back to full operating capacity, but at least there's a glimmer of hope.
"Thanks for everything," I mumble, wrapping myself in the towel he hands me, linen jogger pants and a loose-fitting long sleeve sweatshirt to go with them.
"Where is this from?"
"Got it downstairs in the guest room."
"It's your mom's?" I ask, remaining skeptical that I'd be able to fit into anything she wears.
"No, not at all. She just keeps clothes here in case there are visitors and they need something. It's a common thing."
I think back to the way Richard had all sorts of bathing suits and different sizes arranged in his pool house.
What is it? A rich person thing to keep clothes for their visitors?
I've never heard of anything like that, but I appreciate the sentiment.
The sweatshirt and the pants are incredibly soft and comfortable and fit just right, and that's exactly what I need at the moment.
I don't want to head downstairs, but again, Dante pushes me, insisting that I need to have some lunch.
We're way past breakfast at this point.
"Everyone else is at the beach," he says, "and Mom is having a meeting at the club with some of her old friends, so we have the house to ourselves."
He makes me a sandwich and a fresh spring salad. By the time I'm done with the plate, I start to resemble a normal human being.
"Well, it's a good thing I had a good time last night," I say, giving him a smile, clearing my plate.
"Why? What do you mean?" he asks.
"Well, I felt this morning that if I didn't have a good time, I'd probably be kicking myself."
"Yeah, Richard is a nice guy. And his friends? I can see us spending some time with them if you want."
"Wow, couple friends," and I raise an eyebrow. "It doesn't help that Lincoln has slept with Richard's girlfriend and his wife doesn't know, but I guess that’s how it is. Things are complicated among the rich and famous."
Dante looks at me, and I think I've crossed the line, but then he begins to laugh a thick, loud, easygoing laugh that begins in the pit of his stomach.
I join him, and all of my worries go away.
8
Jacqueline
The following morning, I take a walk out by the water by myself. The air is cool and the world is slightly overcast the way that mornings by the water usually are.
Thick, gray clouds cover the sky but I know that in just a few hours, they will be burned off by the summer sun. In the meantime, the air feels cool on my cheeks, comfortable, and warm enough to not cause me to sweat.
I walk fast, putting one foot quickly in front of the other.
I don't break out into a full run, not quite yet, because I know that I can maintain the speed, and it seems to somewhat match the tempo of my thoughts.
The weekend has been a whirlwind, to say the least.
I had no plans to meet Dante's family, but I ended up meeting everyone who's important to him; his brother, sister-in-law, and, of course, his mother.
My thoughts on her are still somewhat mixed. Adele was kind to me, approachable, which was surprising. But I've also seen how she has treated Marguerite, and it's the kind of treatment that she clearly doesn’t deserve.
But I have my own relationship to forge and I don't want to burn any bridges; she is Dante's mother after all.
A seagull flies into my field of vision and hops on the ground, looking at me sideways. I smile and wave, and I see what appears to be a little bit of a smile from the bird.
But that can't be true, right? I continue to walk.
The sand is lumpy and wet, heavy from an early tide.
My sneakers get caked with sand all around my feet. I kneel down at one point to feel the water, careful to keep my shoes from getting soaked.
I feel like my life is starting a new chapter.
Turmoil is on the horizon but it's not here