They sat quietly, looking at the fire. Ray threw a couple more logs in the stove. “I’m so sorry, Ray. I think you handle all of this better than me. I know I’m cranky and bitchy most days. It’s just I didn’t imagine my life being like this, being such a struggle. Every year I think it’s going to get better. I won’t need to use the credit card this Christmas, or I’ll pay the real estate taxes on time, or I’ll have some extra money to save. But I can’t ever get across the bridge, the troll gets me every time.”
Ray wrapped his arm around her. “I still love you. You know that, don’t you? I know I don’t tell you often enough. I am doing the best I can. I’ve started buying into your crazy dream of selling the house and taking the money to buy a bed and breakfast in the islands. It’s going to be hard work, but we’re used to that. And it’ll be our business, in a beautiful place. I think it might just work.”
“Seriously? You’re on board? Because sometimes I don’t think you are.”
“This past year has convinced me. So maybe it doesn’t work, but we can’t keep doing what we’re doing. We’re digging a deeper hole here. I’m definitely on board. As long as the B&B wasn’t built in the eighteenth century.” He chuckled. “If we close the place in the summer and come back to New England for six to eight weeks a year, I’ll go.”
“Done. That would be awesome.” She kissed him as she pushed the footstool aside. They made love in front of the fire. She forgot about going to Lynn’s and spent the night with Ray, sleeping by the old wood stove. When they woke the next morning, they heard the clicking of the baseboard heat. The power was back on.
SUMMER WEDDINGS, PART ONE
THE SOCIAL EVENT OF THE SEASON
She left her apartment at seven a.m. on Thursday to catch a Greyhound bus departing at eight thirty for Manhattan. She showered but didn’t wash her hair as it had just been washed last night. She was afraid she wouldn’t be able to get it to look as good as Andre had. Running her hands through it to spike it up, it looked fine.
She slept most of the way to the Port Authority bus station. She planned to walk the eight blocks from Penn Station to the Long Island Railroad, detouring over to Times Square. Nick was meeting her at the Jamaica train station in Queens, after flying into JFK and renting a car.
The wedding was taking place in East Hampton. Nick’s grandfather had a large home on the ocean where the reception was being held. Another large house about a mile away, closer to the center of town, had been rented for the bridesmaids and groomsmen. Although some of the bridal party had their dates staying with them, Nick was staying at his grandfather’s with Olivia and his parents. He told his family they were no longer an item. He said they took the news in stride. She was sure they did.
She got to Jamaica a little after three thirty in the afternoon. Nick texted earlier, letting her know his flight was late and he wouldn’t arrive until four thirty. She came out of the train station under an overpass where buses and cabs pulled in, picking up passengers for the next leg of their journey. She was wearing a coral sundress with ribbons of shiny gold sequins encircling the dress every few inches. Cinched at the waist, sleeveless and just above her knees, she added matching gold sandals with one-inch heels, gold hoop earrings and bangle bracelets. She paid particular attention to her wardrobe that morning, knowing her hair would cause quite a sensation, so she wanted to wear something eye catching.
Looking around for a place to eat, she spotted a large Fried Chicken sign across the street. Dragging her suitcase behind her and carrying her dress bag over her shoulder, she came out from under the overpass into the bright warm sun. People of all colors and nationalities passed her along the street.
Taking a seat at the counter that ran along the window, she ordered chicken fingers, coleslaw and a coke. Doing a double take at her reflection in the window, she couldn't believe she was that girl with the short spiky hair. Her cell phone buzzed, dancing along the counter. It was Nick. “Hey, we made up time in the air. I’ve got the car and I’m on my way to get you. I should only be about fifteen minutes.”
“Okay. I’m across from the train station at the corner of Sutphin and Archer. It’s a fried chicken place. I was starving. I’ll be out at the corner when you get here.”
“You went wandering out of the train station? That isn’t a safe neighborhood, you know.”
“It’s the middle of the day. It looks safe to me. The chicken fingers are delicious.”
“Some things never change with you. Have you ever heard of drive by shootings? Fifteen minutes, be out on the sidewalk waiting. I’m in a red convertible Chrysler LeBaron, top down. You need to hop right in, I’m not hanging around.”
“Yes, sir.” She hung up and finished her chicken. Twenty minutes later she saw him coming out from the underpass and he wasn’t alone. Ashley Long was in the front seat, a silk Hermes scarf tied around her blond hair, along with movie star rhinestone sunglasses.
Knowing he wouldn't recognize her, she stepped to the curb and started jumping up and down, waving madly. He pulled right up, slamming on the breaks, looking at her incredulously. As she threw her bags in the back seat and climbed in, he shouted at her, “What the hell did you do to your hair?”
“I finally used the gift certificate you gave me for my birthday. Do you like it?” She was trying for an air of bravado, but she wasn’t sure she was successfully pulling it off.
“Jesus Christ, it’s short. Does Olivia know about this?”
“No. Am I supposed to tell her when I get my hair cut?”
“Yes, before the wedding you are.”
“Oh, right. Shoot, I forgot about that.” She laughed. Ashley turned around, offering her hand. “Remember me? Ashley Long. I met you when you arrived in Dallas a couple of months ago.”
“Of course. You live in 4B. You had a key to Nick’s apartment.” She shook her hand.
“I love your haircut. Don’t mind Nick, he doesn’t seem to like change. You look stunning and very chic. The dress and sandals are great, too.”
“Thanks.”
Nick pulled out into traffic and took off towards the highway. The drive to East Hampton was over two hours and with the top down, conversation was difficult as Nick was driving fast and it was hard to hear them in the front seat with the wind blowing. Her hair blew ever so slightly in the wind, but it was so short it wasn't getting messed up. Good thing, because she didn’t have a Hermes scarf. It might look even better, more tousled and wind blown. She was getting very anxious about confronting Olivia. She put on her headphones and pulled her sunglasses down from the top of her head. Stretching her legs across the back seat and leaning against her bags, she sent a text message on her cell phone.
Checked out Times Square. Amazing! Will send you a pic. Had some really good fried chicken for lunch in Jamaica waiting for my ride. Nick brought a date. A girl who lives in his building.
Jamaica? Thought the wedding was in NY. He brought a date? That’s kinda rude.
Not that Jamaica, mon. The one in Queens.
OH. We need to add Jamaica to our travel list. You know how I love Bob Marley. Would love to hear reggae at the source. I hear jerk chicken is really good too. Maybe we’ll sail the whole Caribbean. Chillin’ every day if ya know what I mean.
Definitely. I know I’d love the islands. I’m comfortably stretched out in the back seat of a convertible right now with the top down for the two hour drive to the Hamptons, listening to reggae, speaking of Bob, and ignoring the lovebirds in the front seat.
Sorry. You should have brought me as your date. I hope you’re wearing your seat belt.
Yes. She put her phone down and fished the seat belt out from under her suitcase. It made it more difficult to stretch her legs across the seat so she put the shoulder strap behind her. He didn’t have to know about that. He was such a nag about the seat belts. But understandably so, she thought.
Hang in there. Did Nan lose twenty pounds or did you cut your hair?
You’ll have to wait ‘
til Monday to find out.
No fair. Send pictures. From her perch in the back seat, she took a picture of Ashley leaning over to put her hand on Nick’s cheek. She sent it to him, followed by a picture of One Times Square with the ball that dropped every New Year's Eve.
Long weekend ahead, huh? She looks uptight. Can’t hold a candle to you sweetie. Whatever you look like right now. Picture please. Love you. XXOO BTW, nice pic of NYC.
Luv U 2.
Are you OK? Did you go through with this crazy plan of yours? You’re not traumatized or anything are you?
She took a picture of her feet in the gold sandals with the coral pedicure she got the other day and sent it.
Nice. Very tropical. Higher please. You know I will love it cus I love you. Just want to make sure you’re OK. I’ve been worried about you. You seemed very edgy when I left you Monday morning.
I’m fine. Sorry, that’s all you get. I am not doing this on cell phone pic. See you Monday. Je t'adore. xxoo
That's OK. I understand. ???? Hey was that French? No comprende senorita.
I adore you.
Sweet. P.S. Don’t take shit from anyone this weekend. You are beautiful.
Merci beaucoup. Or muchos gracias for you.
* * *
The drive out to the Hamptons was beautiful. Once they got past the suburbs and out to the south fork, it was one cute, picture perfect town after another. However, the traffic was bumper to bumper, even on Thursday night, most people opting for an early start to the holiday weekend. Although it would have been easier to talk now that they were crawling through traffic, Nick and Ashley were deep in conversation in the front seat, laughing and flirting, occasionally kissing. She eavesdropped for a while but they were talking about their jobs and she found it boring, so she put her music back on and grabbed a journal out of her purse. She was working on the story about Jennie. Her boyfriend was getting ahead of her with the illustrations and was pestering her for more copy.
East Hampton was even prettier than the previous towns, a picture perfect all-American seaside town, with a green in the center and white clapboard houses. They pulled up to the sidewalk of a large white house set behind a hedge with a white gate underneath an arbor covered in pink roses. “Here you are my dear, this is where you are staying.”
“Aren’t you coming in?”
“No, we’re going straight to Granddad’s.” Why was he talking in a snotty, patrician tone of voice, she wondered. Granddad? My dear?
“I see Olivia’s car is here, so I’m going to let you handle that situation on your own. Tell her I said hi.”
Ashley pouted at him. “Oh Nico, we should go in with her. I haven’t met your sister yet.”
Nico?
“You won’t want to meet her right now,” he said, smiling at Ashley.
She ran her hand through her hair, fluffing it up after the windy drive. She reached in her purse and reapplied lip gloss. Grabbing her suitcase and dress bag, she straightened her shoulders. She felt very much like Maria in The Sound of Music, arriving at the von Trapp’s house.
“Well, thanks for picking me up. I guess I will see you at the beach party tonight.” She opened the gate and marched through the arbor, whistling. “I have confidence, yes I have confidence. No, I do not. But I will pretend I do.”
Stepping onto a wrap around porch with white wicker furniture and hanging baskets filled with pink and white flowers, she peered through the wooden screen door, where she could hear the sound of people laughing and talking, so she just opened it and let herself in. She put her bags down by a large umbrella stand and called out, “Hello?” Nan came running from the kitchen, wearing a loose muumuu type sundress, most likely trying to disguise her weight. Maybe she should have worn a hat to hide her hair. “Oh my God, you did it. I love you.” Nan gave her a giant hug. "You look smashing, as Olivia would say. Turn around and let me see.”
She spun around quickly, feeling very self-conscious. “Where’s Olivia?”
“In the kitchen. We’re having Sangrias and mojitos. I bet you need a drink.”
“Shit, yeah. I just drove almost three hours with Nick and his new girlfriend.”
“I heard she was coming. How rude, huh?”
“You heard?” She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Tact was never one of his strong points.” As she entered the kitchen, Olivia looked up and let out a scream. “Oh. My. God. What the hell did you do to your hair?”
Everyone turned to look at her. She felt her face turning beet red as she immediately reached for her hair, running her hand through it. She tried not to cry, but could feel her eyes tearing up. Next to Olivia stood a guy about five foot seven with dark black hair and green eyes behind black horn rimmed glasses. He was not heavy but not thin either, just average and clearly not very athletic. She thought there was something soft about him, his hands small and slightly feminine looking. But she loved it when he gave Olivia a very nasty look and walked towards her with his hand out.
“Hi, I’m Henry. I believe I am the usher you are paired with this weekend. It’s very nice to meet you, you are much lovelier in person than pictures I’ve seen you tagged in on Facebook.” His handshake was limp but he looked directly and confidently into her eyes. “Nice to meet you, Henry.”
“Can I get you a drink?”
“I would love a mojito. Do you have Captain Morgan?”
* * *
The rest of he evening improved. Henry became her protector and self designated knight in shining armor. She and Nan went up to their room to change for the beach party, a hot, stuffy maid’s room in the attic with a tiny fan that didn’t help much. “Well Nan, it looks like we did get the Cinderella room again. At least it not’s the Harry Potter room. I noticed one of those stairway closets when I came in through the front hall.”
Nan filled her in on Henry’s background. “Very, very eligible bachelor. Graduated from MIT, living in New York now. Invented something or other, I’m not sure what, but it has to do with medical equipment. He's a millionaire by the age of thirty.”
“He’s thirty? He looks twenty.”
“Yeah, and most of the girls think he’s too short.”
“Doesn’t the million bucks trump the height with this crowd?’
“You are so funny. Trust me, this house is full of well off men tonight, a lot of them taller than Henry. Olivia’s fiancé Liam hangs with the crème de la crème of Wall Street.”
“Well, Henry seems nice.”
“Hey, are you still seeing Mr. Two a.m?”
She smiled. “Yes.”
“Are things still good?’
“Very good. I believe that in spite of myself, I have fallen in love.”
There was a party that night on the beach at Grandad DeLuca’s house. Volleyball nets were set up and a lobster bake was getting under way when they arrived. Henry gave her, Nan and Amanda a ride in his Jaguar XK convertible. She loved the color, racing blue.
Tiki torches and picnic tables set the scene along with a country music band. She’d always been a little too short to play volleyball competitively, but she gave it her best. Henry was very attentive all evening, getting her lobster and always making sure her drink was full.
Back at the house later that evening, a few people stayed up late, playing charades. She and Henry were partners. He was extremely impressed when she did a dead on impersonation of Charlie Chaplain and she was amazed at his ability to figure out other people’s horrible attempts at acting out the different movies they were assigned. They won the game easily. Later that night, in the nanny’s room, Nan started teasing her about Henry. “I think he really likes you.”
“No, he doesn’t, he’s just polite. His manners are impeccable. I think he was appalled at Olivia’s reaction when I first arrived.”
“No, he’s usually very shy. He likes you. Isn’t your boyfriend an electrician or something?”
“Yes, he’s an electrician. What does that have to do with anything?”
“Not
hing. But Henry is a millionaire.”
“Yes, you keep telling me that.”
“Just saying. You need to think ahead.”
“Ahead to what?”
“Your future. So will you be getting calls at two a.m. again?”
“No, he’s going out to the Isles of Shoals with his uncle this weekend, fishing for striped bass. No phone service out there off the coast of New Hampshire.”
“Well, we better get to sleep. Olivia has scheduled those emergency appointments for us with the seamstress to let out my dress and the hairdresser to figure out what to do with your hair so you fit in with the rest of us.”
“I can’t wait,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “But I don’t think I’ll ever fit in and honestly I don’t want to.” She punched her pillow, rolled over and quickly fell asleep. She was beginning to think Nan wasn’t worth a foot of hair. What the hell was that electrician comment about?
* * *
Friday started early. The rest of the house was still asleep but the wayward bridesmaids needed consultations. Nan had a fitting with the seamstress who let out her dress. She had a consultation with the hair stylist who would try to make her hair compliment the other girls. The chosen hairstyle was two small braids wrapped around the head underneath a loose, low bun, her favorite way to wear her hair when it was long.
For the first time since Wednesday night, she felt like bawling her eyes out but she wouldn’t give Olivia the satisfaction. She’d really begun to think Katie and her boyfriend were right. This was another one of her stupid, quixotic, impulsive moves and she would bear the consequences for quite some time. It would take forever to grow this haircut out. Why was she supporting a girl who didn’t have enough willpower to lose weight and was looking for a rich husband?
They decided on a leather headband that matched her hair color and looked like a braid. It wrapped around her head and an orchid would be clipped along the side of the headband behind her ear. Tomorrow the stylist said she would mousse her hair down flat but she was planning on messing it up after the stylist left.
The Reverse Commute Page 22
