and a bunch of tomatoes over to me. “Just slice the tomatoes and the basil, would you, Cat?” She peers out the window to where Sam is chuckling over something Eddie has said. “Are you having fun outside?”
“Huge fun,” I say. “Your son is lovely.”
“He is,” she says, a look of sadness crossing her face. “I just wish he would settle down with the right woman.”
“I’m pretty sure a divorced mother who lives in London isn’t the right woman.”
“You are a Mayhew, my dear. You may live in London now, but who knows what the future holds?” She winks at me.
I go to the window, realizing I can hear everything Sam and Eddie are saying.
“She’s pretty great,” I hear Eddie say.
“She is.”
“How do you guys know each other?”
And Sam starts to tell Eddie about how we met.
* * *
By 8:45 I am more than clear that I fancy Eddie. Fancy him in the way I haven’t fancied anyone in a very long time. I love the way he moves, the strength in his arms, his politeness and attentiveness.
When I talk, Eddie looks deep into my eyes. He asks lots of questions, seems genuinely interested in what I have to say, but I have absolutely no idea whether he might be attracted to me. I do know he thinks I’m gorgeous. And sweet. And pretty great.
Is that enough? Does that mean he’s interested? Suddenly I feel like a lovesick sixteen-year-old, analyzing every word he’s said, trying to figure out if that look means something more.
I’m starting to get tired. I know I’m not supposed to think in English time, but I realize it’s after two o’clock in the morning where I’m from, and this makes me yawn even more, which I try very hard not to do, because as we all know, yawning begets yawning.
But I can’t stop.
“You’re tired! Nearly done. Will you stay for dessert?” Abigail shoots me a concerned glance. I am desperate to go to bed, but desperate for more time with Eddie. Sam, on the other hand, seems to be absolutely fine, and I have no idea how that is possible.
There is now a chill in the air. Eddie stands up and grabs the wrap from the back of my chair and wraps it around me, as a warm glow starts to spread in my heart.
Abigail takes dessert from the fridge, a blueberry pie she made this morning. We decide it’s too cold to stay outside, so we’ll all go in to the kitchen for dessert. Sam goes to the bathroom, leaving Eddie and me to clear the table. We don’t talk, but we smile at each other as we move around the table gathering things up, our hands brushing each other’s as we both reach for the salt at the same time, and I laugh, awkwardly.
God. I have forgotten how to do this. I have absolutely no idea how I’m supposed to act, other than like a lovestruck teenager.
“Do you guys want to come to the Club Car?” Eddie says suddenly. “There’s a great pianist this evening. It’s a fun night, should be filled with islanders. It will give you a taste of what Nantucket’s really like.”
I want to go. There’s nothing I want to do more. I have visions of Eddie and me squeezed together in a bar, sexual tension wrapping itself around us. I look at Sam, wondering if he might possibly bow out, might realize his presence would not be a good thing, but he is clearly considering the possibility.
And I yawn again, and shake my head. There is nothing I want to do more than continue this evening with Eddie, but I can’t. I just haven’t got it in me.
“I’ve got to get back to bed,” I say. “I’m so sorry. I’m on English time, and the jet lag is killing me. Another time?” I add hopefully.
“Absolutely,” he says, turning to Sam. “How about you?”
“You know, I really don’t feel jet-lagged at all,” says Sam. “I’d love to.”
* * *
I grab Sam in the hallway.
“How are you not tired? I’m almost dizzy. This is completely unfair.”
“I bought something called a five-hour energy drink,” he confesses. “I took it at seven. It’s great! I really do feel filled with energy.”
“Thanks!” I mutter. “You could have got one for me.”
“I will next time. Promise to tell you all about it.”
“I hate you,” I say.
“I know.” He puts his arms around me and gives me a hug. “I’ll be sure to get home safe.”
Thirty
I wake