Local Girls

by Jenny O'Connell

  At least that’s what I kept telling myself.

  Chapter 24

  I parked Lexi’s car along the side of the driveway, half on the grass, half on the white crushed stones that led up to the house. There was already a long line of other cars with shiny silver hubcaps and small red alarm system lights blinking on their leather dashboards. The party was in full swing.

  Even though I knew the breeze off the ocean would make it even cooler once the sun went down, I decided to wear the sundress Henry and I bought in Boston. I thought it might bring me luck, or at least not make me look so pale. Besides, I hadn’t had any other occasion to wear a three-hundred-dollar sundress.

  Henry must have been waiting for me, because before I even reached the front door he was walking toward me. Just seeing him made me feel better, and as he approached I actually felt like smiling.

  “Hi,” he said, but before I could answer, his lips were brushing against mine. He tasted vaguely like champagne. When he finally pulled back from me, he left his arms wrapped around my waist. “You look beautiful.”

  “Thanks. You do, too.” He did. I’d gotten so used to seeing Henry in shorts and a T-shirt that I couldn’t have imagined he’d look so handsome in a crisp white shirt and blue blazer. I wanted to take his hand and lead him back to my car and take him away with me. Instead, I pointed to his pants. “For once you’re the one wearing khaki.”

  “Such a funny girl, but I wouldn’t give up your day job.” He laughed and kissed my forehead. “Ready to go inside?”

  “She knows I’m coming, right?”

  “Of course. It’s not a big deal, Kendra.” Henry reached for my hand and laced our fingers together. “Come on, everything will be fine.”

  I followed Henry through the foyer toward the back of the house. Before I could even see the pool I could hear the noise, people laughing and talking above one another, the sounds of a party. But even though I was expecting to find a party outside, I was completely unprepared for what I found when we stepped onto the patio.

  Two large white tents were pitched on the lawn around the pool, the trees strung with white Christmas lights. Just above the sound of laughter I could hear the smooth notes of a saxophone in the background. I was about to ask Henry where it was coming from when I noticed a jazz trio under another, smaller tent. On the wooden-paneled floor in front of the trio, couples danced, swaying to the music.

  It was like nothing I had ever seen before, not even Izzy and Malcolm’s wedding.

  “Kennie!” Malcolm came toward us and bent down to kiss me on the cheek. “I’m so glad you could make it. Izzy really outdid herself, didn’t she?” Malcolm’s cheeks were flushed pink and I assumed it was as much from the empty champagne glass in his hand as from the excitement of the party. “Henry, there are some friends from New York I want you to meet. Can I steal you away?”

  Henry looked to me for an answer and I nodded. “Go ahead, I’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll be right back.” Henry squeezed my hand and then followed Malcolm across the patio.

  I didn’t recognize anyone, but I figured most of the people were Malcolm’s friends from Boston, so I wasn’t that surprised. I was surprised that we hadn’t run into Mona yet, but I knew it was just a matter of time.

  While Malcolm’s party wasn’t exactly the ideal place, we needed to talk. I needed to explain about Henry, and to ask her about Kevin.

  Finally I spotted her, standing by the side of the pool with Izzy and some of Izzy’s friends. She was wearing a dress I’d never seen before, but it was blue and she always looked good in blue. It made her eyes even brighter. I watched Mona laugh and then take a sip from the champagne flute in her hand.

  Izzy caught me watching them and waved to me. I waved back, took a deep breath, and walked over.

  “Kennie!” Izzy hugged me and I hugged her back.

  “The place looks great,” I told her, and then pointed to the centerpieces on the tables under the large tents. “You made the right choice with the flowers.”

  “They look great, don’t they?” Izzy agreed, and then excused herself to go say hello to a couple over by the buffet.

  Mona and I faced each other, but neither of us attempted to talk. Mona just stood there, one hand on her hip, the other holding the champagne flute, and for the first time she didn’t seem smaller than me.

  I smiled. “Hi, Mona.”

  She didn’t smile back. Instead, she folded her arms over her chest. “Hello, Kendra.”

  “You look pretty,” I told her, when what I wanted to say was, “I’m sorry.”

  She sucked her cheeks in and shook her head at me before taking a sip of champagne.

  “I saw some of your photos in your room, they’re really good.”

  Mona let out a false laugh. “Oh, how nice. Was that before or after you slept with my brother?”

  “It wasn’t like that, Mona,” I started, but she held up her hand, telling me to stop.

  “I’m going to get another drink.” Mona took one final sip of her champagne, draining the glass. “Good-bye, Kendra.” The way she said my name, it sounded so final.

  For the next twenty minutes I wandered around simultaneously looking for Henry and avoiding Mona. Not that I didn’t partake in some of the food in the process. Either the wait staff felt sorry for the lonely girl in the sundress who obviously didn’t know anyone, or they had seriously overestimated how many appetizers they’d need, because I must have had at least six stuffed mushrooms, two chicken satays, and four puff pastries with Kobe beef and carmelized onions by the time I finally found Henry cornered on the patio outside the family room by a man who looked to be around Malcolm’s age but who had about fifty pounds more on him, mostly in the belly hanging over his seersucker pants.

  “Excuse me, Henry?” I tapped him on the shoulder. “There’s a floral emergency in the tent, I think someone’s allergic to the centerpieces.”

  “Wow, that can’t be good,” Henry improvised. “I really better go. It was nice meeting you.” Henry shook the guest’s hand, grabbed my elbow, and led us away.

  “Oh my God, I swear I thought I’d never get free. I owe you,” Henry told me. “That was one of Malcolm’s Princeton friends. I think I just promised to live in his old room if I get in, either that or I guaranteed Malcolm will donate a new building or something. I would have said anything to get out of there.”

  “Glad I could help.”

  Henry laid his hands on my shoulders and squeezed. “Cold?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why don’t you go up to my room and grab a sweatshirt or something.”

  I held out the skirt of my dress. “I doubt it will match.”

  “Who cares. If you don’t mind, I don’t mind.”

  I shivered and Henry pulled me into him and wrapped his arms around me. “Look, go get yourself a sweatshirt. This is ridiculous.”

  “Fine,” I agreed. “I’ll be right back.”

  Although most of the guests were outside by the pool, there seemed to be people everywhere—the family room, Malcolm’s study, the dining room. As I made my way to the front foyer I could hear voices in the living room, their laughter filling the cavernous space. Just through the doorway I spotted Mona and Malcolm standing together in a group, Malcolm’s arm casually draped over Mona’s shoulders as he told a story, Mona’s head nodding in agreement. They looked like any other father and daughter.

  Before she could see me, I turned around and headed toward the kitchen, deciding to take the back stairs next to the kitchen just to be safe.

  “Where are you headed?” Izzy asked, meeting me in the kitchen hall.

  “I was going to get one of Henry’s sweatshirts, it’s getting cold out.”

  “Your dress is so pretty, you can’t wear a sweatshirt. Go borrow a sweater in Mona’s closet.”

  “It’s okay, Izzy, a sweatshirt’s fine.”

  “Absolutely not,” she insisted. “Get yourself a sweater. Henry’s sweatshirts are disgus
ting. Go!” Izzy pointed up the back stairs, and I started to climb.

  I hadn’t been in Mona’s bedroom since that day back in June, my first day at the inn. It seemed so long ago now, like another lifetime. For the first time ever, being in Mona’s room felt like an invasion of her privacy, like I was entering someone else’s room, the room of a stranger, someone I didn’t know anymore.

  The French doors were open, letting in the night air and the sound of the party below. The white lights on the trees reflected off the panes of glass, throwing distorted shards of light around the room.

  The last thing I needed was Mona showing up and finding me alone in her room, so I went straight to her closet. On a shelf to the left, Mona’s shirts and sweaters were perfectly folded, just like you find in a store. I wondered if Zilda used one of those cardboard templates to make sure every sleeve was folded just so.

  Four down from the top I found a tan cotton cardigan. At least it wouldn’t clash with my dress like the other choices. I reached my hand in to pull out the cardigan and as I did, something fell out of the pile and landed on the floor.

  And there it was on the carpet in Mona’s closet, the Ziploc bag with the leaf she’d taken the day of Poppy’s funeral. It was completely brown now, not the brilliant orange it was the day it had fallen onto her hair. But even though the color had faded and the veins had dried up, the leaf was still whole, if more than a little wrinkled.

  Suddenly it didn’t feel right, knowing what Mona had done with the leaf. It was like looking inside of her, seeing someone she didn’t want me to see.

  I bent down, picked up the baggie, slipped it back into the pile of sweaters, and went downstairs to meet Henry. Only I didn’t make it that far, because Mona was on her way upstairs and saw me before I could turn around.

  “Hello, Kendra.” Mona reached for the banister to steady herself on the landing. “Enjoying the party?”

  I proceeded down the steps toward Mona, taking my time. “It’s really nice. Your mom did a great job.” I looked behind her to see if we were alone. “Are you with anyone?”

  Mona moved to the center of the landing so that I couldn’t get by her. “No, Kendra, my friends aren’t here. Disappointed?”

  “Why would I be disappointed?”

  “That’s why you’re here, right? To prove to everyone that you can have what they can’t? To show my friends that you’re better than they are? To show me?”

  “You can’t be serious, Mona. That’s not why I’m here,” I told her. “I actually wanted to talk to you about the other day.”

  “What’s there to talk about? You did it. Mission accomplished, Kendra.” She threw her hands up in the air and almost knocked herself backward. I’d only seen Mona this drunk once before, but then I’d found it sort of funny. This was entirely different.

  “I don’t know what you mean, Mona.”

  “You did it, you got Henry. You did what none of my friends from Boston could do. You proved you’re better than they are, that you could get what they couldn’t. So what if he’s my brother, right? So what if you know he’s the only person who . . .” She didn’t finish the sentence but I knew what she would have said. Henry was the only other person who understood about her dad.

  “That’s not the way it is, Mona. Look, can’t we just talk about this?” I reached for her shoulder but she pulled away from me and lost her balance, landing on the bottom step.

  “What’s there to talk about, Kendra? It’s obvious you don’t give a rat’s ass about me. You want me to be the same person I was a year ago when I left and it kills you that I’m not.”

  “No, I don’t. I just want you to be you.”

  “Well, me gets to go places and do things I never got to do before. And,” she continued, “even if I didn’t move away, I wouldn’t have stayed the same person I was last August. And who are you to talk? You’re a person I don’t even know anymore.”

  “That’s not true, Mona. I’m still the same person I was when you left.”

  “No, you aren’t,” she told me. “When I left you weren’t dating my brother.” I recoiled at the way she spit the last words out.

  “What’s going on?” Henry appeared holding two glasses of champagne. “Mona?”

  “I was just talking with your girlfriend here.”

  Henry shook his head at her. “Enough, Mona.”

  “No, Henry, it’s about time you know.” She turned to me. “Do you want to tell him, or should I?”

  I didn’t even know what Mona was talking about, she wasn’t making any sense. This whole night was a mess and I didn’t know how to fix it, or if I even could. It was going to always be like this if I was with Henry, the doubt in Mona’s mind, her distrust of me. It was becoming glaringly clear that I couldn’t have both Henry and Mona. And after Labor Day I wouldn’t even have Henry anymore.

  “She’s drunk, Henry.”

  Mona wasn’t letting that stop her. “Don’t you think it’s a little weird that all of a sudden Kendra thinks you’re boyfriend material? That after all these years she finally figured out that she wants to be your girlfriend?”

  “Mona, don’t do this,” I practically pleaded. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “No, I think he should know.” Mona reached for the banister and pulled herself up so she was facing Henry. “Kendra just wanted to prove that she could get you, Henry. You’re nothing more than her way of evening the score.”

  “Look, I have to work tomorrow.” I pushed past Mona and ran into the kitchen and out the side door before Henry could stop me.

  The crushed stone made its way into my sandals as I ran down the driveway, past the Mercedes and Jaguars toward Lexi’s Honda. With each step the stones dug into my feet until they felt like glass slicing into my skin.

  “Kendra, come on!” Henry was running after me, and even though I’d had a head start, he was right behind me by the time I reached the car.

  “She’s had too much champagne. Ignore her.” Henry put his arm around my shoulder but I shook it off.

  “Forget it, Henry.” I fumbled for the keys I’d left under the front seat.

  “Forget what?”

  “Us, Henry. Forget us.”

  Chapter 25

  The next morning it all seemed unreal. Every time I closed my eyes I saw Mona on the stairs, the hatred as she told Henry I’d been using him to even the score. I heard Henry’s footsteps as he ran after me, felt the weight of his arm as I shook it off my shoulder. It all happened so fast, one thing after another, until it was over, all of it.

  As I lay in bed Sunday morning I clutched my stomach, almost feeling like I was going to throw up. I hadn’t planned to tell Henry it was over, but it had just become too difficult. And it wasn’t just Mona. It was that I knew Henry wouldn’t end it, even though you’d think he’d know better than anyone that what happens during the summer isn’t meant to last.

  I kept telling myself that, reminding myself that when it came right down to it, there was no good way for us to end. There was just an ending, and whether it happened now or in a few weeks when I waved good-bye at the ferry, it was going to happen. I’d just sped up the inevitable.

  But even though it made sense, was completely rational given the situation, it didn’t make it hurt any less. It didn’t make me stop crying.

  I considered calling in sick, but I knew Shelby would kill me. So I got up, got dressed, and headed to the inn.

  I hadn’t worked a Sunday all summer, but Camille had decided to return to school early, so Wendy had asked me to fill in and help out the rest of the staff. I figured departing guests would be feeling all nostalgic about their Vineyard vacations winding down and that would translate into big tips. Normally Shelby would also be off on a Sunday, but Wendy was in Boston for the weekend, so Shelby had volunteered for breakfast duty. I don’t even think she minded working another day in the kitchen.

  “You look like crap,” Shelby commented when I walked into the kitchen. “Your eyes are bloods
hot. Too much to drink at last night’s party?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” I told her, and she must have realized it was way more than a hangover, because she didn’t press it. She just reached for my apron, tossed it to me, and let me get to work.

  Sunday mornings had a weird vibe, a totally different feel from the Saturdays I was used to. The inn was still packed, but guests were in no hurry to order breakfast or get up from their tables. And that was fine with me, as long as they weren’t expecting me to provide small talk while they finished their coffees.

  For most of the morning I worked on autopilot, only listening when taking orders, only talking when telling guests about the specials or when thanking them as they walked out of the dining room. But as I was clearing one of my last tables I overheard the conversation at the table directly behind me.

  “The race has only taken place in the rain three times since I first crewed,” the man at table 3 was telling the woman across from him. “And, it’s probably worth noting that those were the three years I couldn’t make it back to watch the regatta.”

  “Not that you’re overestimating your power to control the weather or anything.” The woman laughed and I turned around just in time to see her reaching across the table to take his hand.

  His back was to me, but she was smiling at him in a way that made me think he was smiling at her as well. “Are you saying it’s just a coincidence?” he joked, and leaned across the table to kiss her.

  I couldn’t see his face, but she was pretty in a way only naturally beautiful women could be. They both had dark, almost black hair, but the wispy shafts of gray coupled with the fact that he was thinning on top made his hair seem lighter in color.

  “I’m not saying that at all,” she answered when he pulled away.

  “Because in seventeen years you’d think it would rain on more than three races,” he went on.

  Tamara tapped me on the shoulder. “Kendra, Shelby wants to see you in the kitchen.”

  “In a minute,” I told her, waiting to catch a glimpse of the man.

  “I think she needs you now.”