Summer Beach Reads 5-Book Bundle: Beachcombers, Heat Wave, Moon Shell Beach, Summer House, Summer Breeze (13 page)

What were Duncan and Alicia doing now? Perhaps they were strolling around the Public Garden, holding hands and enjoying the soft summer air before meeting friends for dinner at the Taj. The friends would be wealthy, like Alicia, and perhaps as they lingered over dessert, they’d discuss vacations … oh, no.
No.
Duncan and Alicia wouldn’t come to Nantucket on vacation, would they? Duncan’s family had a summer home in Maine. Surely they’d go there. On the other hand, Duncan had loved Nantucket. He had a lot of friends here, and a lot of contacts. What if Emma were working, pushing a baby stroller around town or running into a store to pick up something for one of her clients, her hair frizzed with humidity, and she ran into Duncan and Alicia ambling down the street in all their sleek perfection?

It was a nightmare thought. It took her breath away. And now that she’d imagined it, she couldn’t get the scene out of her head. It played itself over and over, filling her with dread.

Tonight the Hennersons were holding a fund-raiser for the next senatorial candidate. It was going to be a crush of the wealthiest people summering on the island. It was just the kind of event where she could meet someone. The One. So she wanted to
shine.

But her look just wasn’t coming together. Lily was on the verge of tears as she stood in the middle of her bedroom, surrounded by every dress and skirt and top she owned. She’d tried them on in every possible variation, but nothing
worked.
She wanted to look sophisticated. She wanted to look
fabulous.
She wanted to be able to just go out and buy herself a new dress.

Emma
had the sort of clothes Lily coveted. City clothes. Sleek silks and crepes, expensively subtle. And Emma had said she’d loan Lily some of her things.

Lily went into Emma’s room. Emma’s bed was unmade but she’d finally unpacked her bags. Lily rooted around in Emma’s closet and came out with a filmy silk shirt in pale olive that would be dynamite with Lily’s red hair. She took it into her room and tried it on. Wow! It was perfect. She slipped into a pair of cream silk capris, clipped on a dangle of earrings, and slid her feet into high-heeled sandals. All right. In fact, very nice. She smiled at herself in the mirror. If she were a man, she’d be attracted!

She heard voices in the kitchen. Good. Her sisters were home.
She hurried down the stairs. Wait till they saw her! Wait till they heard she was going to see inside the fabulous Hennersons’ house!

Abbie and Emma were in the kitchen. Emma was pawing through a cupboard while Abbie squatted down as she searched through the vegetable crisper.

“Where’s Dad?” Abbie was asking.

Emma replied, “Out fishing. Said he’d get dinner at Henry’s.”

“The peanut butter’s all gone,” Abbie said. “And there is only one slice of bread, and it’s the heel.”

Lily positioned herself in the doorway, hip stuck forward, model-style. “Ta-da!”

Abbie’s face when she saw Lily was not full of admiration but of irritation. “Lily, weren’t you the last person to have breakfast this morning?”

“Well, I guess, so what?”

“So you used the last of the bread for toast, right?”

“Well, why not? Honestly—”

“So didn’t you notice there was no bread left? Didn’t it occur to you that you should have gone to buy bread? Not to mention fruit, cereal, milk, yogurt?”

Impatiently, Lily shot back, “Why should
I
buy the stuff? You guys are here now. You eat here, too.”

Emma joined the argument, crossing her arms and glaring at Lily. “Just because we’re here doesn’t mean you get to be a baby again.”

Lily sniffed. “Well, that’s mean!”

Abbie said reasonably, “Come on, Lily, Emma and I work. We were out of the house and working while you were still in bed.”

“I work, too! I have to leave for work right now, actually!” She hated how her sisters treated her, as if they were adults and she was a hopelessly silly little girl.

“Wait a minute,” Abbie said. “Are you taking the Old Clunker?”

“Of course,” Lily said. “The party’s up on Cliff Road. I can hardly walk there in high heels!”

“Lily.”
Now Abbie was tense. “I was counting on using it. I’m babysitting for a family out in Monomoy.”

“You can bike there,” Lily protested.

“Monomoy’s farther than Cliff Road,” Abbie argued.

“Not much farther and besides, you can’t expect me to
bike
to a fund-raiser in my good clothes!”

“But you can expect me to bike to Monomoy after I’ve worked all day.”

Lily crossed her arms defensively. “Well, I didn’t know that, did I?”

Emma’s voice was calm and serious when she weighed in. “Lily, you know we have jobs. We told you about them. Abbie and I both got up at six and worked all day. You slept until God knows when and had the whole day free, right?”

Lily insisted, “My work schedule is different from yours.”

“You had the whole day free,” Emma repeated. “Did it occur to you to buy groceries?” She waved her arms around. “It certainly didn’t occur to you to clean up the kitchen. What did you do today, Lily? Wait, don’t tell me, I know what you did! You went to the beach, didn’t you?”

“You don’t understand. I need to keep tanned for my job. I don’t want to look pale like—” She’d gotten herself into a corner and didn’t know how to get out.

“Like the rest of us?” Abbie suggested. “The rest of us, who are too busy working all day to lie on the beach and soak up the sun?”

“Okay, I’m
sorry
!” Lily snapped. “Perhaps I should have bought groceries. I’ll buy them tomorrow. But I’ve got to go now, this fund-raiser is a big deal. I’m lucky I got a press invitation. Oh, stop being so mean to me. If I cry, I’ll ruin my mascara!”

“Oh, go on.” Abbie gave in. “I’ll go do some shopping after I finish babysitting. Stop&Shop’s open all night now.”

“Wait,” Emma said, moving toward Lily. “Is that
my
top?”

As Emma walked toward her, Lily suddenly felt like Cinderella in the Disney movie with the two wicked stepsisters looming over her, ripping her clothes to rags. “I was
going
to ask you,” she babbled. “I don’t have anything nice to wear, and this is a very big deal, and I knew you wouldn’t be using it tonight, oh, please don’t make me take it off, I don’t have anything sophisticated—”

“Stop acting like someone out of Dickens,” Emma ordered. “Go ahead and wear it. You just should have asked first. And actually, you can keep it. It fits you better than it ever fit me.”

“Oh, Emma, thank you! Does it really look good on me?”

But Emma turned away from Lily. “Listen, Abbie, I’ve got a babysitting job tonight right in town, just a short walk from here. I’ll stop by Grand Union on the way home and grab some milk and bread for tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, great, Emma, thanks.” Abbie looked at her watch. “We can make a grocery list tomorrow morning so we can stock up for the week or at least a few days.”

“I’ve got to go,” Lily said softly.

Abbie didn’t respond to Lily. She was on her tiptoes, searching through the highest shelf in the cupboard. “Don’t we have any soup or
anything
in this house? I’m starving.”

Lily hurried down the hall, grabbed the keys to the Toyota, and went outside. She felt terrible, guilty because she
could
have bought groceries today and it was too bad Abbie was hungry, and also furious because not everything was her fault. After all, Abbie had traveled abroad, she was übercompetent, she wasn’t actually
starving
, she was just trying to make Lily feel bad, and also hurt, because there they were again, her two older sisters ganging up, the perfect pair, turning their backs on their dumb little sister.

She blasted the radio as she drove over to Cliff Road, hoping the summer rock would help her change out of her sullen mood. It was a gorgeous hot evening, and even if she was only going for work, still she was going to one of the most elite parties on the island. She found the house on a street already lined with convertibles, Hummers, and sports cars. She had to drive three blocks before she could find a place to park. As she hurried toward the house, she put a little swing into her walk, just in case anyone was watching.

A handsome guy in a tux was at the door, checking invitations. As Lily joined the throng of people streaming into the house and out onto the long deck with its ocean view, she caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror. The way her long red hair fell past her shoulders was cool. She looked
good.

But not as good as the other women there. She strolled along, tossing off easy smiles and checking for a chance to start up a conversation, privately intimidated by the other guests. All the women were tanned and shimmery, with sleek hair pulled back into casual low ponytails or chignons, and diamonds, emeralds, and sapphires clustered around their necks in fabulous arrangements. Their
clothes made her burn with envy. Some women wore real true gowns whose skirts swept the floor, with halter tops or asymmetrical bodices or beaded bustiers. Others wore tunics so short that their slender legs seemed endless. Few wore pants, and why should they, this was summer, time to show off one’s long sleek legs.

Stop it!
Lily ordered herself. She had work to do.

First, perhaps, a little drink to soothe her nerves. She made her way to the bar at the end of the deck.

“Hey, Lily,” the bartender said.

Lily gawked. “Jason! What are you doing here?”

“What does it look like? I’m working.” He was scooping ice into a glass as he talked.

“I thought you were a contractor.” She couldn’t believe how sexy he was in black jeans and a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His forearms were so muscular, his shoulders so broad. His brown hair was cut brush-style and he was, not surprisingly, very tanned.

“Contractor by day, bartender by night. I’m a man of many talents. What can I get you?”

Lily surveyed the table. “Oh, good, you have Prosecco. I’ll have that, please.”

“So you’re here for your column?”

He knew about her column? Lily blushed. “Right.” She took a sip of sparkling wine. “Here’s my courage,” she told him, holding up the glass. “I have to approach complete strangers and ask if I can take their photos and names. Sometimes it’s fun, but sometimes people are offended.”

“I can’t imagine anyone being anything but nice to you, Lily,” Jason said.

“You’d be surprised,” she told him.

“Actually, I don’t think I would. Remember, I work for people like this.”

As if to prove his point, an older man in a blue blazer slammed his glass down on the table. “Again,” he ordered Jason, then turned away, scanning the crowd.

Jason cleared his throat. “Would that be Scotch, sir?”

“Right.” The man answered without looking at Jason.

Jason got a clean glass, scooped in some ice, added the Scotch,
and held it out to the man, who snatched it and walked off without a word of thanks.

“Point made?” Jason said, smiling at Lily.

Lily nodded. “Still, it’s a job.” She fluttered her fingers and forced herself out into the crowd.

She knew the hostess wanted her photo taken; she’d discussed it briefly with her a few days before. Mrs. Hennerson was a familiar face in the society pages and it didn’t take Lily long to find her in the crowd. The older woman grabbed the senatorial candidate and they posed willingly while Lily clicked off several shots. After that, buoyed by the wine, Lily plucked up her courage and wandered through the group, introducing herself to strangers, chatting with them, taking their pictures, and carefully writing down their names.

“Hey, Princess, do me a favor.”

Lily was just squeezing between two groups of people when she heard the low, raspy voice. She looked toward the end of the deck. An older woman sat there in a swirl of crimson and diamonds. She was probably around seventy, but obviously had had face-lifts and Botox and heaven knew what else, so that her face seemed strangely ageless and also oddly alien, as if she were from another planet and just masquerading as a human.

“Were you talking to me?” Lily asked.

“I was.” The woman held out her glass. “I’m dry. Get me another.”

Slightly insulted, Lily hesitated. “I’m not—”

“I know you’re not a waitress. But I need another drink and I don’t have the energy to fight through the mob. Get me a drink and I’ll let you take a photograph of me. Your editor will like having my picture, believe me. And I’ll tell you who’s who in this crowd.”

“All right.” Lily reached out to take her glass. “What are you drinking?”

“Gin martini. Tell the bartender I don’t want him even thinking the word vermouth. Two ice cubes, no more. Fill it to the top.” She’d barely finished with her instructions before a couple of older men came up to her. “Darlings!” she bellowed at them. “Give me a cigarette before I perish!”

Lily made her way back to the bar, told Jason how to fix the drink, then asked, “Do you know who that woman in red is?”

“God, yes. That’s Eartha Yardley. Countless husbands and endless money.”

“That’s Eartha Yardley? She looks so old!”