“So, then, relax. All the years you put into this are going to pay off.”
“Let me ask you something,” Matt said, sipping the beer and finding it bitter. “Would you feel this way about the film if it was just the footage I showed you a few weeks ago?”
“The CTE angle is strong—important. But the reveal about the kid takes this thing to another level. It makes it more dramatic and personal. I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that.”
“No,” Matt said. “I don’t.”
“So what are you worried about? Sundance?”
“No. We’ll get into Sundance.”
“Distribution?”
Matt shook his head. How could he admit that in getting the one thing he’d always dreamed of, he would lose something he now wanted more?
For the first time in four years, Lauren walked into Nora’s Café as a guest. She’d offered to work the night of the opening party, but Nora insisted that the regular waitstaff experience and enjoy the new menu along with the other guests—the restaurant regulars, local press, and a posse of shoobies Lauren didn’t recognize but who somehow had the connections to wrangle invites.
Nighttime had a way of transforming a space, and the restaurant felt larger but at the same time more intimate. Nora had rearranged the tables to create more room for people to mingle and for the hors d’oeuvres to be passed. She’d hired waiters from a local catering company to serve samples of the appetizer menu, and the dinner menu would be set out as a buffet. Her mother was in the kitchen prepping fresh doughnuts for dessert. The one speed bump was Nora’s lack of a liquor license; guests had been invited to bring their own wine.
Nora had a ’70s satellite-radio station playing over the sound system, and it filled the room with an eclectic mix of singers ranging from Carly Simon to Donna Summer. Lauren made sure her father and Ethan got pieces of the white pizza before it disappeared and then poured herself a glass of wine from Henny’s bottle of Oyster Bay sauvignon blanc.
“She shouldn’t even bother applying for the liquor license,” Henny said. “I’d rather bring my own than get fleeced for twelve dollars a glass.”
“I agree,” Lauren said, accepting a goat-cheese slider from a server. She hummed along to “You’re So Vain.” And then she saw Emerson walk in.
She had invited him during her phone call to tell him that he had a nephew. It wasn’t something she’d planned.
“I need to see him,” Emerson had said, the break in his voice moving her.
“Of course. At some point,” she said. “My sister hasn’t told him yet about his father. This is going to take some time.”
“Lauren, I know I don’t have a right to ask you for anything. But I can’t wait. He’s all I have left of my brother. I need to come now.”
She couldn’t invite him to the house. It would be too much for all of them: herself, Stephanie, and Ethan. But she couldn’t refuse him outright. As tempting as it was to hold on to her anger and resentment toward him, now they shared a nephew. And so she thought of a compromise.
“We’re all going to a party next Saturday night at the restaurant where I work,” she told him. “It will be crowded and maybe not your ideal place to meet Rory’s son, but it’s best for him that way. He’ll be around so many new people that night, you won’t raise any red flags.”
Emerson didn’t like the idea, but she stood firm and said it was either that or wait until Stephanie decided to tell her son the truth. Until he actually walked into Nora’s, Lauren hadn’t known what option he would choose.
Across the room, Stephanie stood near the kitchen talking to their father. Lauren walked over to let her know Emerson was there.
“I thought your mother would be done by now,” her father said. “Do you think Nora would mind if I took a peek in the kitchen?”
“As long as those doughnuts get on the buffet table for dessert, you can jump in and bake for all Nora would care,” Lauren said. She had suggested that her mother prepare a few batches ahead of time, but Beth was intent on them being as fresh as possible. “You’d be surprised how many people have never eaten a warm doughnut,” her mother said.
Howard left for the kitchen, and Stephanie grabbed Lauren’s arm.
“Guess who’s here?”
Lauren, surprised, said, “You saw him?”
“Saw him? He had the nerve to come over and say hi to me.”
“Wait—I don’t think we’re talking about the same person.”
“Neil Hanes. He came with his parents.”
Lauren glanced around as Stephanie said, “Don’t look!”
She spotted him. “Okay, that’s unfortunate,” Lauren said. “But it’s the least of our concerns; Emerson’s here.”
Now it was Stephanie’s turn to indiscreetly look around the room. She mouthed, Shit. “I’m really having second thoughts about this.”
Lauren knew her sister had to be wishing for a glass of wine right about then, but she’d been sober for two weeks. It was for her own health, but also a gesture to her parents that she was intent on changing—as a person and as a mother.
“It will be fine. I’ll bring Ethan over. You don’t even have to talk to him.”
“Too late for that.”
Emerson was threading his way through the crowd, heading straight for them. He was taller and broader than any other man in the place, as well as less tan and more casually dressed.
“Where’s Ethan?” Lauren said.
“I’m not sure. The last I saw, he was sitting at a table with a few other kids. Near the front window.”
“Can you find him? The sooner we get this over with, the better.”
“I don’t know why I let you talk me into this.”
Lauren was thinking the same thing. Stephanie slipped away before Emerson reached them, leaving Lauren alone with her former brother-in-law. After four years of not speaking to him at all, she had now dealt with him twice in one summer. How ironic that the last time he’d shown up, he’d warned her not to make Rory look bad. Now he was there to meet the son Rory’d had with her sister.
“I wish I could say it’s nice to see you,” she said.
“I guess that’s fair,” he replied. Then, glancing at her hand: “I see the ring is gone.”
“Yes, well, nothing like finding out your husband had a son with your sister to make a ring feel like empty symbolism.”
“That’s the most cynical thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth, Lauren.”
“It’s just the truth.”
“Look, I have no idea what happened. But I do know that my brother never meant to hurt you. He did love you.”
“Wow. That’s the most generous thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth.”
“Like you said—just the truth. Now, where’s my nephew?”
Beth zested a lime, humming along with Carly Simon.
In the end, she’d decided to go full-on summer-experimental with her doughnuts. The one hundred and twenty guests would be treated to spicy chai, salty margarita, and campfire s’mores doughnuts. She would have to fry the s’mores doughnuts just minutes before dessert was served, since they had to be eaten immediately, while the chocolate and marshmallow were still gooey. The only thing she could prep ahead of time was the crushed graham crackers, butter, and sugar mixture she would use as a topping.
“You’re still busy in here? I thought maybe you’d have time to come out and enjoy yourself for a minute or two,” Howard said from the doorway, where he stood holding two glasses of prosecco.
“I am enjoying myself,” she said.
He smiled. “I brought you a drink.”
She waved him away. “I’m on the clock.”
He put the wineglasses down on a countertop. “So, is it like riding a bike? Do you feel like you never stopped catering?”
No, I just feel like I wish I’d never stopped. “In some ways. But it feels different because I appreciate it more now,” she said, putting down the grater.
&n
bsp; “Well,” he said, looking around the industrial kitchen. “I’m proud of you.”
“You are?”
Howard moved closer and she saw he had a manila envelope tucked under his arm. He handed it to her, and while she opened it, he said, “It’s the signed paperwork for the sublease. It came to the house today. You really saw things clearly when I was too mired in panic. I owe you an apology for not coming to you sooner.”
They were the words she’d needed to hear all summer.
She looked into his eyes, gray and steady; but for the crow’s-feet, the same eyes she’d been staring into for half her life. He leaned forward and kissed her, and she forgot everything around them: the heat of the kitchen, the clamor of the restaurant guests, even the problems with their daughters.
That’s all a husband is. Just a man. Flawed. Infinitely fallible. The only way marriage works is to forgive and move on.
“I wasn’t angry at you for losing the house,” she said. “I was hurt to be shut out of the decision-making.”
“I know.” He nodded. “Believe it or not, I was trying to spare you the worry.”
“Why didn’t you just say that in the first place?”
He shrugged. “Pride?”
“Oh, Howard.”
He kissed her again, and she threw her arms around his neck. He pulled away just long enough to get the wine and hand her a glass.
“A quick toast. To you, Beth. You were right about this summer. I’m lucky to have you as my partner. I’m lucky to have you as my wife.”
She put down the wine and kissed him again. A timer pinged.
Howard glanced at the dozens of doughnuts cooling on the counter. “Can I help you plate those?” he asked.
She looked pointedly at his sports jacket.
“What?” he said. “You think I’m afraid of rolling up my sleeves?” He pulled off his jacket and set it on a wall hook. Beth, eyebrows raised, pointed to the sink. She stood beside him as he washed his hands.
“What’s with your sudden interest in the kitchen?” she asked, passing him a clean towel.
“Beth, you weren’t right about just the summer,” he said. “You were right about something else: it is your turn.”
Chapter Fifty-Four
Lauren held on to Ethan’s hand and felt her own shaking as she led him to Emerson. She glanced back over her shoulder at Stephanie, who was watching like a protective mama bear.
When they reached Emerson, she found her tough, stoic former brother-in-law staring at Ethan with tears in his eyes.
“Ethan,” Lauren said. “This is a…family friend. Mr. Kincaid.”
Emerson glanced at her, and she nodded. He pulled out a chair and sat so he could talk to Ethan eye to eye. He asked Ethan about school and about what sports he liked to play. Ethan told him soccer.
“We should kick the ball around sometime,” Emerson said, looking to Lauren for the go-ahead.
“That sounds great, doesn’t it, Ethan?”
Ethan nodded, and Emerson held out his hand for a high five, which Ethan delivered before darting off.
“I remember when Rory was that age,” Emerson said. He turned to her with tears in his eyes. “Thank you, Lauren.”
“No problem. I mean, we’re family now, right?”
He nodded, clearly unable to speak. When he collected himself, he said, “What’s going on with that film?”
“The documentary? I don’t know. It’s…the truth will come out, Emerson. As we’ve seen.”
Stephanie made her way to them. Lauren wondered when they’d last seen each other. Not at her wedding, since Stephanie hadn’t been there. It might have been sometime during the summer when Lauren was at Georgetown instead of at the shore. The summer when their fates changed forever.
“Hey,” Stephanie said.
“You have a great boy there,” Emerson said.
“Thanks.” She looked at Lauren and shifted uncomfortably on her feet.
“I’d really like to see him now and then. Have a relationship.”
Stephanie nodded. “I appreciate that. And it will be good for him to have a man in his life. But I need some time. I’m going to tell him about his father. I’m just not sure exactly when. Before the film comes out, obviously.”
“You’re worried about the documentary?” Emerson said.
“That, and the other one.”
“What other one?” Emerson said.
Stephanie told him about Neil Hanes and finding the script in his house.
“I’d like to give that guy a piece of my mind,” Emerson said. “And my fist.”
“Well, it’s your lucky night—he’s here.”
Stephanie pointed to Neil, who was sitting at a corner table refilling a young blonde’s wineglass.
“Ladies, excuse me for a minute.”
They watched Emerson cut across the crowded room.
“I almost feel bad for Neil,” Lauren said.
“I don’t,” said Stephanie. And then: “Lauren, I know I just said I would tell Ethan the truth. I just don’t know how I’m going to find the words. Maybe I’m weak, but it’s just…I don’t know. I can’t do it.”
“You have to.”
“I wish it could just…happen.”
“It’s going to be okay,” Lauren said.
Stephanie reached out and hugged her, and the feeling of being in her big sister’s arms, alien and so familiar at the same time, brought fresh tears to Lauren’s eyes.
“I love you,” Stephanie said.
“I love you too.”
The sign on the door read PRIVATE PARTY. NORA’S CAFÉ OPENS TOMORROW AT 7 A.M. FOR BREAKFAST. THANK YOU. Matt could see from the street that the dining room was packed with people.
He had been halfway through his shitty craft beer in Williamsburg when he remembered the party. It came to him because a group of hipsters piled in with bags of doughnuts from Dough in Bed-Stuy. They made a big show of offering some to the bartender, who set them out on the bar. And Matt thought of Beth Adelman.
It was Henny who had originally invited him to the party, but Lauren had mentioned it in passing with a casual “You should come if you’re still in town.” That had been before it all went to hell, of course.
Driving for two and a half hours after an abrupt good-bye to a confused Craig, Matt tried to figure out what he was going to say when he was face to face with her. He wasn’t entirely sure; all he knew was that he needed to see her.
Inside the restaurant, he made his way through a throng near the front counter. Lauren was difficult to miss in a pale orange sundress, her dark hair long and loose. How had he not noticed how beautiful she was that very first day when he’d met her in this place? He could see it like it was yesterday, the wariness when he tried to chat her up, her disgust when he’d handed her his card. By some miracle, he’d been able to break through all that and not only get what he needed for the film, but also get close to her as a person.
And then he’d wrecked it.
Lauren needed air. She couldn’t walk around making small talk with the party guests after the intense conversations with Emerson and her sister.
She pushed open the door, and it had barely closed behind her when someone said her name. At first she thought she’d imagined it.
“Lauren,” Matt repeated.
“What are you doing here?” She turned around, her face stony while some deep, primitive, and inconvenient part of her fluttered with joy.
“You didn’t respond to any of my texts.”
“Why should I? We’re not friends, Matt. You got what you wanted. Now leave me alone.”
He moved closer, and she felt the pull of her attraction to him.
“I miss you,” he said, and he kissed her. She gave in for a second, then pulled away sharply. They stared at each other, both breathing heavily. I can run twelve miles a day but one kiss from him and I feel like I’m going to pass out.
“Listen to me,” he said. “I know you want me to scrap the film,
but that’s not how it works. Sometimes the truth is upsetting. But that doesn’t diminish its value. At the same time, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You can’t have it both ways.”
“I think I can.”
“What are you saying?”
“I won’t use footage of your nephew in the film. I won’t use Stephanie’s interviews. And I’ll still have the film I came to this island to make.”
Lauren stared at him. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” he said. “I’m certain.”
“That would make a huge difference. To all of us. But you could have told me that over the phone.”
“I had to see you. Because you’re wrong—I didn’t get what I want.”
He reached for her, and she let him hold her, everything else falling away. Her entire being seemed to say yes. The feeling was new and familiar at the same time, and it scared her.
In the past she had run too quickly into her love for another person. She had given up too much to sustain it. And for what? In the end, it had failed. Now a second chance was there, right in front of her. But she knew that if she didn’t fully heal before rushing headlong into it, this, too, would disappear.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m not ready.”
Matt nodded in reluctant acceptance. “Okay,” he said. “I understand. I just hope someday you will be. And when you are…”
“You’ll be the first to know,” she said, fighting back tears, rocked by competing feelings of happiness, sadness, fear, and hope.
The front door of the restaurant opened. Stephanie appeared; if she was surprised to see Matt, she didn’t show it. It was just one of those nights.
“Mom’s bringing out dessert,” Stephanie said.
Lauren turned to Matt. “Have you ever tried a s’mores doughnut?”
“As a matter of fact, I haven’t,” he said, taking her hand. “But I’d love one right about now.”
Chapter Fifty-Five
Beth hovered near the dessert buffet. The guests lined up to fill their plates, as excited and expectant as children waiting for slices of birthday cake. She swelled with pride.
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