yes. He found a house in town ready for us on July sixteenth, for two weeks. Apparently they had a last-minute cancellation, because it is literally impossible to get something decent on the island at this late stage. The magazine will cover the cost of the house, thank God, and it’s in dollars so it’s cheaper for us. All we have to pay for is the airfare. I have a friend at BA who might be able to swing something.”
“Are you serious?” I am unsure whether to be thrilled or terrified.
“Deadly. It’s time for a holiday. Get your suitcase ready, my love, because America is calling, and we’re on our way!”
Twenty-one
Nantucket, 2014
I remember this. The smell of the ocean, the salty wind whipping through my hair, the hazy island in the distance as the slow ferry chugs along from Hyannis.
We ended up flying to Boston, renting a car, and driving up here. There were no direct flights left, and truth be told, it all felt like more of an adventure this way. Annie, standing beside me, her own hair flying around her face, turns to me with a huge grin, then slips an arm around my waist, hugging me close in a rare and treasured moment of daughterly affection. I tilt my head so it is resting on hers, overcome with gratitude for getting my daughter back, for finally being able to be the kind of mother I would like.
“Excited?” I ask, smiling down at her as she nods.
“I can’t believe we’re in America!” she says. “Tell me everything again about Nantucket. Everything!”
“We’ll be there soon,” I say with a laugh. “You’ll see for yourself. Why don’t we go and find Sam? We’re almost there.”
* * *
The ferry is busy; the snack bar inside has a long line of people waiting to order fried food to pass the time. We thread through, walking up and down until we see Sam, tucked into a booth with paper trays of fried chicken and french fries in front of him. Sam is just about the most elegant man in the world. Even seeing Sam on a ferry is a little disconcerting, let alone with the kind of food he would never ordinarily touch, for his image is everything.
I had booked a Kia Soul to pick up at the airport in Boston, but Sam refused to be seen in a Kia Soul and talked the woman there into upgrading us into a Mustang for an extra ten dollars a day. And I get it. Sam needs to have a cute little convertible, in the same way he needs to dress the part.
He actually went online and ordered clothes from Vineyard Vines while we were still in London, so he could look like the perfect Nantucket vacationer. He is currently wearing Nantucket red shorts, deck shoes, a Vineyard Vines shirt, and a needlepoint belt. He looks preppier than prep. Even I’m slightly shocked when he opens his mouth and an English accent comes out.
There he is, tapping on his iPhone, his Louis Vuitton travel bag on the seat next to him, reaching out every few seconds for more greasy food as my mouth widens in shock.
We slide onto the benches, Annie reaching automatically for some fries.
“Am I dreaming? Is this my friend Sam McAllister eating unhealthy fried fast food? Did I wake up in an alternate universe?” I actually cannot believe that Sam, who lives on green juices and organic food, the healthiest of healthy, who works out in a gym every single day, who expressed slight panic that he might not be able to find a gym on Nantucket, who was only reassured when I reminded him that he could in fact go for a run instead, is eating this crap.
“I know!” He holds a hand up to silence me. “It’s a vacation, and when we’re on vacation, nothing counts. Isn’t that right, Annie?” Annie, her mouth gleefully full of fries, nods in allegiance. “And when you’re on holiday and the snack bar only has, basically, fried food to offer, what’s a girl supposed to do?”
“Don’t keep them all to yourself,” I say, reaching out for the chicken and shrugging. “As you said, it’s a holiday. Or vacation, actually. Either way, if you can’t beat them…” And I put a salty, crispy, deliciously naughty tender into my mouth.
* * *
It is painfully familiar. The boats, the huge, expensive yachts, the people milling around on the harbor. Dogs everywhere I look: black Labs, brown Labs,