reading a book.”
“Not I,” Eleanor whispered back. “This boat makes me feel like I’m living in a book!”
Another couple, Bonnie and Donnie Hamilton—who went to St. Paul’s church and knew that people made fun of their matching names, but what could they do?—were the last to board. The yacht rumbled beneath them like a great sea monster waking up, and they headed out of the harbor and toward Great Point.
Eleanor relaxed. Everyone else was more or less Eleanor’s age. The men had potbellies, the women had dimpled thighs and upper arms, and they were all sprinkled with brown old-age spots, as well as white old-age spots, which Eleanor had never known about until recently. Eleanor was the only widow. Chip Lourie was a good ten years older than Eleanor, and weighed down with various ailments.
Clarissa yelled—because the breeze the boat caused whipped away their words—“Every year Chip predicts it will be the year he sells this old thing. Every New Year’s Eve, we place bets on who will go first, me, Chip, or the boat.” She threw her head back and laughed, and as Eleanor laughed with her, she admired her for joking about death. Eleanor would bet fifty dollars that Clarissa and Chip had all their legal affairs in order.
“How’s your summer going?” Chip asked.
They talked about various galas to raise money for the many organizations on the island, and what neighbor’s house had just sold for how many million, and how they’d spent their winter. Eleanor and Silas and the Louries were the only ones who didn’t have winter homes in Florida and the others were aghast.
“What is there to do here in the winter?” Muffy asked.
“Read books!” Eleanor told her.
Muffy looked even more appalled.
Silas spoke up. “There are lectures and movies and great local theater and concerts held by the Nantucket Community Music Center, plus lots of dinners with friends.”
Muffy nodded sadly. “I suppose you can always travel.”
Bonnie saved the day. “We often visit our grandchildren.”
“Yes!” Silas said. “For Christmas, and—”
He was interrupted by everyone else wanting to show pictures of their grandchildren on their phones. Clearly this was the favorite subject, and for a while Eleanor leaned back, tilted her face up to the sun, and relaxed.
“How is your granddaughter?” Clarissa asked Eleanor.
“Oh, she’s lovely. Ari’s twenty-two. She just graduated from Bucknell.”
“Wonderful!” Clarissa said.
“She’s working on the island this summer at Beach Camp,” Eleanor said.
“What’s that?” Clarissa asked.
Eleanor explained that it was a day camp for children whose parents had to work and couldn’t afford babysitters.
“How divine!” Muffy clapped her hands together. “We must send them a check. Just think, we could make it possible for them all to take a trip to Boston to the science museum.”
“That’s a fabulous idea.” Eleanor smiled and thought Muffy looked quite lovely in all her gold jewelry.
Muffy said, “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
The captain came onto the deck and announced, “We’re almost at Great Point.”
“We’ll stop for a swim before lunch,” Clarissa informed them.
They anchored. The rumbling stopped. Chip was first to dive off the boat, and then one by one, like a rather shapeless chorus line, the men dove into the water. Eleanor didn’t dive, nor did the other women. They went down the ladder and eased themselves into the cold.
After a moment of dog-paddling, Eleanor’s body went, all of its own accord, into swim mode. She remembered as she speared through the surface that as it went deeper, it got almost icy. But she was exhilarated, by the cold and the sheer sensation of swimming. She recalled her different strokes, and for a while caught her breath by treading water and watching her friends pass by her in a blur of color and splashes. She floated, her body cold, the sun hot on her face. It was slightly scary, letting her ancient body, with its weaknesses, surrender to the obliviousness of the ocean, which wouldn’t care—wouldn’t know—if she, a superior creature on this planet, sank or swam. She didn’t have the strength to swim to shore, which was very far away. As a girl, she’d enjoyed the challenge, but now she knew she couldn’t keep it up.
Still, she was the last one to climb the ladder attached to the boat, where the gorgeous young man held out his hand to heave her onto the deck. He immediately gave her a large and fluffy white towel. She could have cried with gratefulness. It wasn’t just that she was too old to expose others to her body in