Cal waved back.
Eight
Eleanor was in the kitchen mixing herself a nice vodka tonic with lime and lots of ice when Ari rushed into the house.
“Hi, Gram! I’m going to unpack some groceries and then take a shower. I’ll tell you about everything when I get—oh, my gosh, you have mussels! You are amazing!” Ari kissed her grandmother on the cheek and flew down the hall to her room.
When Ari came out of her bedroom, dressed in a light cotton sundress and smelling of citrus shampoo, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, Eleanor said, “Yes, we’ve got mussels for dinner and a salad and fresh peaches and ginger snaps.”
“Oh! You’re the best!” Ari kissed her again and flopped into a chair, tapping away at her phone.
With her drink in hand, Eleanor returned to her puzzle. Over the years she and her granddaughter had become comfortable with one another, neither needing to stop whatever she was doing to pay full-face attention to the other. Alicia thought this was impolite, but it worked well for Eleanor and Ari. Eleanor’s mother had insisted you couldn’t have civilized culture without polite conversation. Somehow this belief had jumped a generation and landed on Alicia, which made Eleanor feel extremely uncivilized when dealing with her daughter.
“Aha!” Eleanor found a puzzle piece she’d been looking for and rewarded herself with a sip of her drink.
Later they had dinner at the kitchen table—the dining room table was covered with puzzle pieces. Ari told Eleanor about Beach Camp and the sweet children and the busy day. Eleanor told Ari about picking the mussels and walking to the Sconset Market. Over the peaches she’d sliced and sprinkled with sugar and ginger snaps, a brilliant combination, Eleanor told her about her meeting with Silas.
“Gram, you have a beau!” Ari teased.
“Don’t be such a romantic,” Eleanor said. “It was completely accidental, running into each other. But he is a pleasant man.”
“Are you lonely here, without Grandpa?” Ari asked.
A warning bell rang in Eleanor’s consciousness. She didn’t want Ari to feel she had to be a companion for her poor old Gram. She didn’t want Ari’s pity. “Oh, not so much,” Eleanor responded cheerfully. “In the winter, maybe, but summer is always such a busy time for me.” In fact, Eleanor thought, she was enjoying herself much more now that she could choose which invitations she would like.
“About all that, Ari, I wanted to tell you that I may not always be home around dinnertime. I’ll always keep some casseroles or frozen dinners for you, and bread and so on, but you don’t need to be back here for dinner every night. You’re an adult now, and you should come and go from the house as you please.”
“Thanks, Gram,” Ari said, with a smile that showed her dimple. “I do hope I’ll be having a few dates this summer, and I’ll want to tell you all about them.”
“Maybe not all about them,” Eleanor answered with a twinkle in her eye.
After dinner, Eleanor and Ari did the dishes and tidied the kitchen. They streamed an old Hitchcock movie, and around eight-thirty, Eleanor told her granddaughter good night and went up to bed. She put on her summer pj’s, striped pink and white cotton, which she had washed and ironed herself. She loved the feel of ironed pajamas. She brushed her teeth, creamed her face, reminding herself she had to buy new sunscreen, turned off the light, and slipped into bed. Shadow leapt lightly onto the bed and curled up next to her. Eleanor wasn’t tired, but she had books to read, and she didn’t want to crowd Ari. The young woman would have calls and texts to make and posts to read on Instagram and Eleanor couldn’t imagine what else.
Eleanor realized she should show some evidence of nightlife, too. She picked up her phone and checked the movies scheduled this week at the Dreamland. Most movies involved men with far too much testosterone armed with explosive machinery, or frenzied cartoons sure to drive children into states of hyperactivity. Concerts and plays were debuting in late June. She checked the library listings and found a few lectures she’d enjoy. It had been a long time since she’d simply ambled up and down Main Street in the evening, listening to the street musicians, stopping at the Hub to buy a magazine, sitting on a bench on Straight Wharf gawking at the fabulous yachts in the harbor.
Also, she reminded herself, she didn’t have to go