for nothing.
I shrugged. “So it is. But it’s her house. She’ll be there.”
Although Eric had jokingly called it the “white party,” I already knew this would be a far cry from the family’s previous years of August decadence. I sincerely doubted Jane had any desire to host two hundred of Long Island’s wealthiest residents in front of a full orchestra, fireworks, and thousands of dollars of Cristal. Instead, Eric was determined to use the estate to impress new investors he was courting from Singapore and China, men apparently eager to experience the heights of rich American customs. I could have told them French catering, horseback riding, and a private firework show was probably the farthest thing from what most Americans experienced. But then again, what authority did I have on the matter?
Still, Eric was adamant about starting his own traditions.
“You’re a part of this family. Wouldn’t you rather spend time with the people who actually make our lives possible?” my cousin had asked when I’d questioned whether I should even be there. “Instead of wasting your time schmoozing with the same old stuck-up assholes?”
A year ago, I would have said no. A year ago, I would have stuck with the family tradition, with whatever our grandmother said we should do. Drank the right cocktails. Worn the right dress. Made polite, conversation with the right people. A year ago, I was focused on being a perfect member of the de Vries family, even if that was no longer my name. Now I was starting to understand why Eric had stayed away for so long. More than that, I envied him.
I rolled down my window a touch, welcoming the salty sea breeze into what had suddenly become a suffocating back seat.
“Mommy! Won’t that ruin your hair?”
I turned to Olivia. Poor girl. Never allowed to eat in front of the TV. Or wear a t-shirt to bed. Or roll the car window down. And yes, I probably had given my hair as a rationale for that in the past, if it wasn’t Calvin saying something similar.
So I just rolled it down farther, letting the wind catch pieces of carefully blown-out tresses. I smiled at Olivia. “We’re on vacation, aren’t we? Time to let our hair down.”
Slowly, my daughter began to smile back, a lovely thing that made her face glow between two blonde braids.
My heart twisted. I didn’t see that enough.
I reached back and pulled out the pins that kept my hair in place, then leaned toward the window to let it all whip into my face as it liked.
She giggled. “Yes, Mama. We’re on vacation.”
I turned to find her pulling out her own braids, and together we rode for a bit like dogs with our heads halfway out the window, loose locks flapping like flags in the wind.
After a bit, we rolled the windows back up—most of the way, but not quite all. I turned to Olivia as I pulled my hair back again.
“Nearly there now. What’s the first thing you’ll do?”
Olivia considered the question much longer than I would expect from most nine-year-olds. Was my daughter inordinately pensive, or was that only because I didn’t know children well enough to say?
An image came to mind of three young boys shooting up the stairs of Matthew’s grandmother’s house. The one he called Nonna, the sweet, familiar word for Grandma that allowed everyone in that house to acknowledge their shared heritage as well as their fondness for the woman. I remembered the look on her elegant, wrinkled face when Matthew leaned in to kiss her cheek like it was the most normal thing in the world. The way they clutched each other briefly. So much love in such a brief touch.
“What are you thinking about, Mommy?”
I blinked and straightened my face. “Oh, nothing. Just considering the question myself.”
“I’ve never seen you look like that about Long Island,” Olivia observed. Lord, if she was pensive, she was also shrewd. That I knew she had learned from the family.
“Have you decided?” I prodded, ignoring the question. I needed to be more careful with my expressions.
Olivia tipped her head from side to side. “I think first I’m going to say hello to Sunshine in the barn. Patricia said she and I could go shell-hunting on the beach when she gets here. Then I’m going to ask the cook if we can make chocolate cake. Then I’ll go swim—oh, look, there it is!”
Davis turned a corner, and suddenly, the grand compound came into view. We passed the