by Jane Green
“Tell me about your lives,” she says now, turning to Lizzy. “Lizzy, how is the new house? Is Connor loving his new room? Nell, would you mind lifting my leg onto the ottoman? Oh, girls, it is so nice to have you home.”
twenty-five
I need a fucking drink.” Lizzy sinks her head into her hands.
“There’s white wine in the fridge,” Nell offers.
Meredith walks into the kitchen.
“What’s going on?” Lizzy asks, looking up at her.
“She says she’s just tired. I sat with her until she fell asleep.”
“That’s really nice of you,” says Lizzy, and Meredith flushes with pleasure. Usually Lizzy accuses her of sucking up. “Does she still have three thousand skanky old white pillows on her bed?”
Nell shakes her head. “Lizzy, don’t be cruel. She’s sick. There’s definitely something very wrong. The very fact that we’re all home and she managed about an hour before claiming a dizzy spell and having to lie down tells us this isn’t just for show. I don’t think this is one of her usual plays for attention. If it had been, she would have stayed in the living room and had all of us run around getting her things. She went upstairs to bed. Alone.”
“She isn’t alone,” mutters Lizzy. “She has three thousand skanky pillows to keep her company.”
“They’re not skanky anymore,” says Meredith. “The three thousand pillows have been bleached by Lily so they are now sparkling white.”
“Does she still have four million dusty old tchotchkes next to the three thousand sparkling pillows?” Lizzy doesn’t miss a beat, and the other two laugh, all of them picturing their mother’s nightstands, toppling over with pillboxes, and not the medicinal kind but the English, Victorian, porcelain decorative kind, as well as with papers, vases, teacups and saucers, figurines, books, scripts.
“She now has five million,” says Meredith, laughing in spite of herself.
“Seriously, though, can we have a drink? Not wine here, but can we go somewhere?” Lizzy is now uncharacteristically serious. “I need to just go somewhere other than my childhood home and have a few martinis.”
“A few?” says Meredith. “Didn’t Dad always say martinis are like a woman’s breasts . . .”
Lizzy laughs. “Yeah, but he was wrong. Three isn’t too many. It isn’t nearly enough when you’re back in your childhood home with your very estranged”—she shoots a dark look at Nell—“sisters and your narcissistic mother, who for the first time isn’t playing at being sick for attention, but actually seems to be sick.”
The others are quiet, because they know this is true. All those claims of headaches (which were never headaches but migraines, despite no aura, no throwing up), backaches (which were always surely a slipped disc), Epstein-Barr virus or Lyme disease, and broken ankles that were only a strain, all those years of lying on sofas, they were just demands for attention. Now that she is visibly not herself, possibly seriously ill, Ronni is muted and quiet. Not the mother they all know at all.
“We could go to the beach,” says Nell. “Take the beach chairs from the garage and go down to Compo.”
Lizzy considers it for a moment. “I would love to go to the beach, but right now I would prefer to be in a bar, with an excellent bartender making me very stiff drinks. I’m sorry,” she says, seeing Nell’s face, which is aghast at the thought of being in a noisy bar. “I know it’s not your thing, but I need people and noise. It’s my comfort zone. I promise that tomorrow we can do whatever you want to do.”
“That means you’re going to be sitting at my kitchen table at the farm,” Nell says. “I’m a total hermit.”
“Perfect.” Lizzy rests her chin on her hand with a smile. “I finally get to stay at the farm.”
“You’re going to stay at the farm?” Nell is shocked.
“You did offer. I’ll even help you make the space for me.” Lizzy flashes a grin. “In one of your numerous empty bedrooms. Where shall we go for a drink?”
“Black Duck?” says Nell. “Dunville’s?”
“Too old-school,” says Lizzy. “I want to see what’s new in town. Let me Yelp.” Seconds later she looks up. “We’re going to Bartaco. Nell? You’re the oldest so you can be designated driver. Let’s go.”
• • •
“Oh, my God,” Lizzy keeps exclaiming as they drive to the bar, passing through the town. “Remember when that was a movie theater? What happened to Max’s? It’s gone? No! That’s awful! Christ, what’s going on with the Y? It’s going to be stores and condos? That’s so weird. Oh, my God, come on, just drive me down Main Street once. No? Tomorrow, then. What’s that? Vespa? Cool looking. Has anyone been? We should try it. The Inn at National Hall closed? But that was my favorite hotel. Urgh. I hate change.”
They park the truck and thread their way through the buildings to Bartaco, a few people already sitting on the sofas outside.
“It’s nice and quiet here,” says Nell, pausing at an empty group of seats. “And it’s a lovely view of the river. Shall we stay here?”
“Absolutely not,” Lizzy says as she keeps marching to the door. “I need music and a bar. Come on. Follow me.” She doesn’t see Meredith and Nell exchange a look, nor Meredith roll her eyes. She also doesn’t hear Nell whisper to Meredith, “It’s one night,” with a small shrug.
“We’re heading to the bar,” Lizzy tells the hostess, whose mouth hangs open as she recognizes who has just walked in; the woman nods in excitement and rushes off to whisper to a coworker that Lizzy Sunshine is in the bar.
Lizzy pauses as she looks around, at the woven willow lamps hanging from the ceiling, the huge framed vintage photographs on the walls, the whitewashed wood booths, and the huge, busy, buzzing bar in the middle. “Love this place,” she says. “Bartender better make a mean martini.” She heads over and sits on a stool, as her sisters sit on either side. She may be the youngest, but her personality made her the star long before she was a star.
The bartender walks over and does a mock bow. “Ms. Sunshine,” he says, a twinkle in his eye. “What an honor to have you here.”
“Thanks,” she says. “I’m Lizzy. These are my sisters, Nell and Meredith. What are your specialties?”
“I make a great Red Sonja.”
“Great. We’ll have two of those, whatever the hell they are, and one dirty martini, on the rocks.”
“I’m actually fine with a Diet Coke,” says Meredith.
“Meri, no. This is the first night of what is probably going to be a very long two weeks. I have no idea whether I can even get out of my commitments for two weeks, but either way, however long I stay, it’s going to feel longer, and we all need some proper sustenance. It’s one drink.” She turns then and really looks at her sister. “You shouldn’t be drinking Diet Coke anyway. Not only is it poison, it helps people gain weight. You’re better off with water if it must be nonalcoholic, but unless you’re sober and can’t risk falling off the wagon, tonight you are going to be joining me in a drink.”
“In that case I’ll have a Red Sonja,” Meredith says, her shoulders slumped in resignation.
“I didn’t know you liked dirty martinis,” Nell says to Lizzy.
“Dad’s legacy.”
“Have you heard from him?” Lizzy asks as Nell shakes her head, then Meredith.
“No. I haven’t spoken to him in years.”
“Me neither,” says Nell.
“God, what a fucking shame that he managed to be such a cliché. Married a bitch who refused to allow him to have a relationship with his children from his first marriage, and then he fucks off to California never to be heard from again.” She sighs. “Ah, well. Every cloud has a silver lining.” She grimaces. “At least we never have to see Arianna the Grotesque again.”
“Come on, Lizzy. She is our half sister.”
“Yeah. Not going to claim that one, I’m a
fraid.”
They all picture Arianna, who was a horribly spoiled, indulged child, and who, despite being twenty-one, continues to throw a tantrum when she doesn’t get her way and continues to be supported entirely by her parents. It doesn’t help that Selena, who appeared quite beautiful when their father met her, was beautiful only thanks to copious amounts of plastic surgery. Arianna has unfortunately inherited not only her mother’s horrible personality but her somewhat unfortunate natural looks—a weak chin, bulging eyes, a large beaky nose. The nose has been slimmed and bobbed to a nose just like her mother’s, but no amount of plastic surgery can change the fact that she is ugly inside and out.
“I did ask him if he would walk me down the aisle,” says Meredith. “Unsurprisingly he had a prior commitment.”
Lizzy snorts. “Was he putting the garden hose away?”
“Too busy making money to buy Arianna a Ferrari?” says Nell in disgust.
“Here’s to fatherless daughters.” Lizzy raises the glass that has just been placed in front of her.
“And motherless daughters,” says Nell.
“Fuck! Don’t say that!” Lizzy says. “I know she hasn’t exactly been the greatest of mothers, but still. I don’t want her to die. Here’s to long, healthy lives.” And they all chink glasses and drink.
“I can’t believe how much this town has changed.” Lizzy looks around. “It’s so weird being back.”
“How is it you don’t come back more? You’re an hour away,” says Meredith. “It’s weirder for me, being in London.”
“I’m crazy busy,” says Lizzy, as two waiters appear, bearing trays of food.
“We didn’t order anything,” says Meredith.
“These are compliments of the chef,” say the waiter. “He has made you a selection of tacos—Baja fish, portobello mushroom, and sesame rib eye—and some of our guacamole. Please, enjoy.”
“This is free?” Meredith says when they have gone.
“Perks of the job.” Lizzy shrugs, taking a corn chip and scooping a large amount of guacamole.
“Nice work if you can get it,” says Meredith.
“Speaking of work,” says Lizzy, “how’s your job?”
“It’s fine.”
“How’s London?”
“Good.”
“How’s Derek?”
Meredith fixes her a level stare. “I knew it would come to that.”
“Jesus, Meri. Seriously. Don’t be so oversensitive. He’s the man you’re going to marry. Of course I’m going to ask how he is.”
“I just feel that you’re always going to follow it up with an eye roll or some kind of snide comment about how awful he is.”
Lizzy takes another deep swig of her drink. “Meri, I love you. I know we’re not close, but you two are the only big sisters I have. If Nell and I have ever made fun of Derek . . .”
“I have never made fun of Derek,” Nell says.
“Okay, me, then. But if we’ve ever said anything that felt like it was negative, it’s only because we want you to be happy, and I just wasn’t sure that Derek was the real love of your life.”
“He is the love of my life,” Meredith says, although even as she says it, she is wondering if that’s true. No, she admits, she knows it’s not true. But he’s the man who has chosen her, she thinks. And he will make a very good husband. Everyone says so.
“Great,” says Lizzy. “Speaking as an old married woman, albeit the youngest here, you need to be crazily in love and think he’s fantastic when you get married. Because God knows married life is hard enough without you looking at him every day and wondering why the fuck you married him in the first place.” She calls the bartender over and orders another round, even though hers is the only empty glass. She doesn’t see Meredith and Nell exchange worried glances.
“How’s James?” Meredith ventures, and Lizzy shakes her head with a deep sigh.
“Don’t even ask,” she says. “I need at least two more drinks before I venture down that particular road. Just take it from me, marriage is hard enough when you go into it thinking he’s the greatest thing that ever happened to you. God only knows what it would be like if you went into it because you thought it was the best you could get.”
Meredith says nothing. She won’t think about that now. “How about you, Nell?” she says, to change the subject. “How’s the farm?”
“Same as always.” Nell shrugs.
“Did you ever get anyone to help you with the financial stuff? I’m really sorry I . . .” She trails off, not wanting to remind anyone of the difficult conversation they once had. “I’m happy to look at anything while I’m here.”
Nell looks into her glass thoughtfully. The truth is, she buries her head in the sand when it comes to finances. She inherited the farm and realized very quickly she had to make big changes to make it a viable concern. She and her staff supply many of the local restaurants, and some in New York and New Jersey. They have the coffee shop, which has morphed and grown into more of a restaurant. They have the petting zoo and now ask for voluntary donations from parents bringing their young children there. So she has made innovations. But always, always, they could do with just a little bit more. And she’s never had anyone she could talk to about it.
The good news is there is no mortgage. The bad news is that the workers have to be paid. Every few months it seems like a struggle. Every time, Nell is not entirely sure why.
Nell believes that Meredith wouldn’t be able to tell her anything other than what she already knows, that they are struggling, that there is no safety net, that her ability to pay her workers depends on the weather, the yield, and a huge amount of luck. She doesn’t need anyone to tell her that no matter how hard she works—and she really doesn’t know how she can work much harder than she is right now—she can’t see a way to make any more changes.
“Thanks,” she says to Meredith. “I appreciate your offer.”
Lizzy’s phone buzzes, and she quickly pulls it out of her pocket and looks at the screen, excusing herself as she walks off.
“Hey, you,” her sisters hear her say, her voice suddenly low and sultry. “I was wondering when I’d hear from you.” She disappears outside to take the call, leaving Nell and Meredith to polish off the guacamole.
“I didn’t realize how hungry I was,” says Meredith. “I think it might be tiredness and jet lag. I always get more hungry when I’m tired.”
“So it’s only another, what, three months until the wedding? How are you feeling?”
“I’m excited,” says Meredith, her voice flat. “It’s just there’s so much to do.”
“I can imagine.”
“What about you? Any prospective men in your life?” Meredith asks, again to change the subject. “Any hot young farmers making your heart beat faster?”
“Ha!” Nell smiles. “Hardly.”
“Now that River is launched, you can’t claim you’re putting all your energies into motherhood. You need to get out there and start dating.”
“Who says I haven’t been dating?”
“Really? Good for you! Anyone nice?”
Nell shrugs. “I was seeing this guy, but . . . I don’t know. The chemistry wasn’t there.”
Meredith stares into her glass for a moment. “Do you think chemistry is all that important? I totally get it when you’re younger, but I think chemistry just gets you into trouble. There’s a large part of me that thinks it’s better to have stability, and kindness, and friendship. Those are the things that make a relationship last, I think. Not chemistry.”
Nell watches her sister, who does not look at her when she says that. “So . . . what do you do about sex?”
“Close my eyes and think of England?” Meredith laughs, as if she is joking, but she and Nell both know she isn’t.
“I don’t know. Maybe you’re right,” Nell
replies, trying to match Meredith’s honesty. “I tried closing my eyes and thinking of America, but it didn’t work for me. I wanted it to—he’s a great guy—but my life is really full, and really good. There would need to be something extra, something big, in order for me to open up and let someone into my life. And this guy wasn’t it.”
“Yeah. I know what you mean,” says Meredith, thinking that her life is really small, and kind of dull, and maybe she set her sights too low. Maybe the problem isn’t Derek, but rather that she isn’t leading the life she should be leading. Too late now, she thinks. She’s thirty-eight. Lucky that anyone wants to marry her, let alone a partner in a CPA firm, someone who can love her and support her, and prevent her from going into middle age all by herself. She shudders with what feels like horror at the prospect of her life stretching out ahead of her with no one by her side. At least, that’s what she tells herself is making her shudder.
“Do you know what I mean?”
“I do. I just don’t think sex is that important.”
“Maybe you’re right,” says Nell, who also thinks sex is not that important, but nor are relationships, and life on her own is perfectly fine.
Lizzy walks back in and climbs on the stool.
“How’s James?” says Meredith.
“What?”
“How is he? Wasn’t that him?”
Lizzy stares at her for a second. “Oh! No! That was my business partner, Sean. We just had to iron out some stuff about the pop-up supper club on Sunday. Obviously I won’t be there, so he’s in charge.”
“Wow. You have a very . . . intimate . . . relationship.”
“It’s just what happens when you work together closely,” says Lizzy. But no one misses that her face has flushed a bright scarlet. “Another round?” she says, changing the subject as she waits for the color to fade.
• • •
“So what’s going on with your partner?” asks Nell later that night, as she and Lizzy pull onto the Merritt Parkway on their way back to the farm. They have dropped Meredith at their mother’s, but have promised to return to the house the next day for lunch.
