“Um. I.” Again, she paused. “I just received my grades for the semester.”
“Wow! And?”
Both Zach and Christine whirled toward Susan and ogled her. Obviously, her shriek had been the teensiest bit too loud.
“I got a 3.78!” Amanda cried.
“That. Is. Incredible!” Susan gushed. She smacked her thigh and did a little jump.
Across the front desk, both Christine and Zach performed a similar action, teasing Susan. She shook her head at them ominously, as though to say, I’ll get you guys for this.
“Well, I’m pretty thrilled and honestly shocked. And every other adjective under the sun,” Amanda commented.
“You should be proud of yourself and all you’ve accomplished. I know it’s been a strange year for all of us. But you got through it. And now, you’re just a few weeks from your wedding! Amanda, I don’t know how you juggle it all so well.”
Amanda’s laugh sounded almost forced or fake; however, Susan decided to chalk it up to nerves. If something was going on, Susan knew her daughter would tell her.
“Thanks, Mom, but I’m barely above water. At least tonight, it felt like the world gave something back, you know?”
“Oh, I know,” Susan replied. “I remember those days from law school.”
“But you had it so much worse—raising two kids while going to law school.”
“Worse? No. I just had to be very, very delicate about my time and how I used it,” Susan corrected. “You though— with all you’re planning and your good timing, honey. You won’t have any trouble at all. You’re going to have an amazing future, my dear.”
Susan and Amanda hung up after a few more moments. Amanda insisted she had to get back to Chris, as she’d only just prepared dinner and wanted to celebrate. Susan wished her well and asked, “You’re still planning on coming over for the Sunrise Cove New Year’s Party, aren’t you?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” her daughter answered. “You know I don’t want to miss New Year’s with you, especially now that we’re escaping this crazy year!”
“You got that right,” Susan affirmed.
When she hung up, Christine poured them both a second glass, while Zach disappeared into the bistro again. “What’s up with our girl?” she asked.
“She received stellar grades,” Susan beamed. “I don’t know how she does it.”
Christine’s eyes flashed and she shot her sister a lovely smile. “Of course you do. She’s basically you, a simulated version. I know I wasn’t around back then, but I have a hunch you received perfect grades, every step of the way.”
Susan’s cheeks warmed as she sipped her wine. “I mean, they weren’t perfect, exactly...”
Christine chuckled at her words, just as the foyer door jangled to reveal Audrey, all bundled up and barely visible beneath a massive yellow hat. The winter coat she wore, she’d actually borrowed from the back of Wes’s closet — due to her growing belly that had stretched out too far to allow any other sort of coat to accommodate it. Her cheeks were a bit plump from the pregnancy, and a little uncomfortable, but she was glowing and looked so beautiful.
“Audrey! What are you doing here?” Christine cried. Panic was etched across her face as she took a step closer to her niece.
Audrey chuckled as she unzipped the coat and freed her enormous belly. “I got so uncomfortable in that big house. I had to go for a walk. Don’t worry — Grandpa is fast asleep, and Mom is still there, writing a story in the kitchen.”
“You walked that path by yourself? In the snow? At this hour?” Susan asked.
Both Christine and Audrey rolled their eyes. “Come on, Aunt Susan. This island is super safe.”
Susan, who wasn’t as much of a daredevil as Christine, Lola, and Audrey, gave a half-shrug and patted the chair beside her. “Want a cup of cocoa or something?”
Audrey dropped into the chair and leaned her head back so that her yellow hat slid off and fell toward her shoulder. Her eyes looked strange and far away. Just before Susan went off to fetch the hot cocoa, she pressed her hand across Audrey’s forehead, just to check if she had a temperature.
“What are you doing?” Audrey asked with a dry laugh.
“Sorry. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t coming down with something,” Susan said. Her hand dropped back to her side.
Audrey shrugged again. “Naw. I’m fine. I just had an appointment yesterday. The doctor said we’re a-okay, didn’t she, Aunt Christine?”
“That’s right,” Christine replied, smiling ear to ear.
There was a strange silence between the women, then. Susan stepped out from the front desk and considered them — her sister and her niece, who, very soon, would allow Christine to raise her baby so that she could return to college.
There was a whole lot of stuff to unpack in that situation.
But it was all for another time.
Susan hurried down the hallway and busied herself: boiling water, stirring it up with chocolate and sugar, dotting marshmallows at the top. Zach spoke in frantic whispers to one of his busboys, seemingly not wanting to let Susan know just how stressed he was, even now, at around eight in the evening.
“Busy night?” Susan asked, just as she began to retreat from the kitchen.
“You have no idea,” Zach replied, wiping a hand with his apron. “Just when I think we’re about to calm down, we get another round of people.”
As Susan shot out of the kitchen, she made eye contact with Jennifer Conrad, a woman who worked in social media over in Edgartown, whom she had met several times back in the old days. According to Charlotte, she’d paired up Jennifer and Ursula, the celebrity she’d done the wedding for — which had been an enormous account and a great deal of money.
Jennifer immediately knew who she was.
“Hey there!” she called. “Susan. It’s so good to see you. I saw you in a few photos from Ursula’s wedding. I went through all of them to figure out what was meant for social and what was meant for burning.”
Susan laughed good-naturedly. “I hope you burned all the ones of me. My hair at the time...” She shuffled her fingers through her still-very-short hair, which she had grown back in the wake of chemo.
“Oh, stop! You are gorgeous!” Jennifer wouldn’t let her point to this as any kind of flaw. She reached forward, gripped Susan’s hand, and said, “You know what? I have heard some of the stuff you’ve gone through this year. And I think you must be one of the strongest women I’ve ever met in my life.”
Chapter Three
Amanda pulled the aluminum foil from its container and splayed it over the eggplant parm. She shoved dire thoughts to the back of her mind as she placed the glass dish delicately in the fridge, beside her cottage cheese and her already-cut vegetables. It was now eight-thirty and still, she’d heard nothing from Chris. Her heart performed backflips through her chest. Even still, he had read all of her text messages, which probably meant that he wasn’t dead in a ditch somewhere.
Probably, he had just gotten tied up at work.
Amanda decided to continue through the bottle of wine and slice up some Irish cheddar cheese as a snack. When she reached the couch with her snack and drink, she took a final glance at the laptop, which still showed her GPA for the semester. With a somber sigh, she closed it and settled back against the cushions. All she’d wanted was to celebrate this huge achievement with the man she loved. You know, like other people were allowed to do.
Just after nine, Chris finally called. Amanda drew the phone to her ear and said, as sweetly as she could (and a bit drunkenly), “Hey, baby. I’ve been so worried.”
“I know,” Chris said. “You texted me enough to let me know that.”
Amanda’s heart dropped like a stone. She shot upright. Her eyes glazed over so that the people on the television screen became blurs.
“Is there something wrong?”
Chris’s voice softened almost immediately. “No. Nothing’s wrong, really. Sorry. It�
��s just been a long day, and I don’t know when I’ll manage to get out of this drink situation with a potential client.”
Amanda steadied herself. She took a long sip of wine as she mustered the strength to say, “I’m sorry they’ve trapped you like that.”
“It’s important for my career, so I guess, I’m actually pretty grateful,” Chris explained. “I’ve worked my butt off and I’m finally getting recognized for it.”
Amanda nodded as though Chris could see her. It took a full moment for her to remember that he wasn’t there with her.
“Right. Well, I guess I’ll head to bed, then. We can talk about everything when you’re home. Good luck with your clients.”
“Thanks.” Chris’s voice remained flat.
“And Chris?”
“What’s up?”
“Sorry for texting so much.”
There was silence at the other end. Amanda cursed herself immediately. She clenched her eyes tight as waves of fear rolled through her. She wasn’t the kind of person to say “sorry” about something so trivial. She was the kind of woman who took life by the proverbial horns. She was strong but didn’t really feel like it at that moment.
“It’s cool,” Chris replied. “See you at home.”
Amanda performed her bedroom routine after that, just as she always had before. She brushed her teeth and washed her face and smeared anti-aging creams across her skin, the preventative kind. She was only twenty-two years old, but she was just the sort of woman who liked to be prepared. She remembered long-ago nights when she had perched on her mother’s bathroom counter and watched Susan perform similar rituals. Amanda had felt so in love with her mother at the time and so privileged to see this intimate act.
The wine let Amanda off the hook, sleep-wise. She fell into a dreamless arena of darkness and awoke just past seven-thirty with the slightest of hangover headaches. When she rolled over on her side, she discovered handsome Chris, fast asleep; his hands tucked up beneath his chin as he dove through dreamland. Her heart surged with love — then confusion.
But if they were about to spend happily-ever-after together, she knew she had to learn to take everything in stride. One day led to the next. They were going to be partners for life.
As Amanda brewed the coffee in the kitchen, she received a message from none other than Richard Harris, her father.
DAD: Hey honey. We still on for coffee at nine?
Amanda’s eyes bugged out. She had completely forgotten her coffee-date with her father. Hurriedly, she texted, “Yes! See you there,” and jumped in the shower. In no time flat, Amanda scrubbed herself clean, dried her hair, donned slick straight-legged jeans and a white sweater, and arrived behind the wheel of her car. As she headed toward the coffee shop, she found herself oddly grateful for this arrangement. Whatever “mood” Chris had been in on the phone last night, she wanted nothing of it. Not that morning. Maybe she would avoid it altogether.
Richard Harris stood with his hands tucked deep in an expensive-looking peacoat out in front of the coffee shop. Amanda turned the engine off and adjusted her dark hair around her shoulders. She hadn’t seen her father since a few days before Christmas — when she’d been able to tell that he was saddened that she and Jake had chosen the Vineyard over Newark for the holidays. What did you expect? Is what she’d wanted to say to him. He had cheated on her mother; he’d destroyed their family. He had run off with some thirty-one-year-old super-hot woman named Penelope. That wasn’t exactly the kind of thing daughters like Amanda were even meant to welcome.
But Amanda also wasn’t the kind of daughter to disown her father. She still loved him, despite everything and he’d done his best to try to build a different kind of relationship between them—one that united them again.
“Hey sweetheart,” her father said as she approached. He wrapped her in an awkward hug, then dropped back to look at her. “Just a few weeks out from the wedding, now. How are you feeling? Bridezilla?”
Amanda rolled her eyes and chuckled. “Fortunately, everything is basically done. I’ve been able to relax about the wedding for a few weeks. Just have to put myself in that gown and walk down the aisle.”
“And if you stumble or anything, your mother and I will make sure to fall along with you,” her father stated, trying to set her at ease.
“Wow. That’s so kind of you. Thanks,” Amanda replied sarcastically, her smile widening. She’d ultimately asked both Susan and Richard to walk her down the aisle, as she hadn’t felt comfortable with any other arrangement. They had both said yes, and she hadn’t been sure why she’d ever doubted it. After all, they were Richard Harris and Susan Sheridan Harris. They put their children above everything.
Inside the coffee shop, Richard bought them lattes and led Amanda to the corner booth. The place was vibrant with early-morning post-Christmas traffic, and they had to speak a bit louder than normal to hear one another properly.
“What’s new?” her dad asked her. “How was the Vineyard?”
“It was beautiful,” Amanda affirmed. “That place is like heaven on earth and so magical at Christmas time.”
Richard nodded, seemingly disgruntled. “Although the way your mom talked about it over the years, it wasn’t so heavenly. Not to grow up there.”
Amanda gave a slight shrug. “I think with everything that happened when she was seventeen, she had to get out and find herself—find her own life. She seems happier than ever now. And you know how much I’ve fallen in love with Aunt Lola and Aunt Christine.”
Richard took a long sip of his coffee. “I have to admit. I always wanted to know her sisters. She talked about them over the years, here and there. I could tell there was a lot of love there. I never thought they’d find a way back to one another. I guess it’s proof that life doesn’t go as planned. Ever.”
Amanda chuckled, as though she understood—but no, not her. She was list-oriented. She had a goal and a vision, and she would execute it efficiently like she did everything else in her life, exactly as planned. It was as sure as the sun and the moon and the stars.
Strangely, her father fell silent after his statement. His eyes grew hazy. He peered down at his hands, thoughtful as his brow furrowed.
Amanda decided this was the perfect time to tell him.
“By the way, Dad. I got my grades for the semester. 3.78 GPA.”
Her father’s eyes flickered back up to hers. His face settled into a smile that displayed how proud he was. “You’re telling me my daughter’s a genius?”
Amanda blushed and fell into giggles, ones that reminded her of long-ago mornings spent with her father back in the house they had all shared.
“Not quite. But I guess I survived my first semester of law school. Not bad, huh?”
“Not bad at all.” He lifted his latte toward her, and she clinked her cup. “That’s my girl—my brilliant girl. I’m so proud of you, darling.”
After coffee, Richard said that Amanda had a few letters to retrieve back at “the old estate.”
“If you want to drive back over there, I can grab them for you. I should have brought them with me, but they slipped my mind,” he told her.
Amanda followed her father’s lead back to the old house. As she parked in the driveway, a flurry of memories swept over her. She could practically see it all: her at age four, running head-long across the grass in a princess outfit while her brother, Jake, was dressed as Spiderman and hollering toward a beautiful blue New Jersey sky. Back then, Amanda had felt their family was a singular unit of strength.
Now, a woman named Penelope lived there.
Her father led her into the foyer, where a photo remained of her and Jake, age seventeen and fourteen — Jake in awkward braces and Amanda with acne on her cheek.
“We really need to update that photo,” she informed him, slipping off her coat.
Richard seemed not to notice. “What’s that?”
“Who’s there?” Penelope’s voice rang out from the back room, the kitchen.
Amanda’s shoulders quaked with sudden awkwardness and sadness. Although she knew her mother was happier than ever, she hadn’t yet seen her “mother’s kitchen” in the hands of this woman she hardly knew. She wasn’t sure she could handle the image.
Even still, she forced her right foot forward, then her left. She padded down the familiar hallway, past the dining room. She felt like a ghost in her childhood home, as though all her memories of the past had created this current persona — her, age twenty-two, acknowledging that you could never go back to where you came from. Not like this.
Penelope stood in the kitchen. Her fingers pressed against the counter tile that Susan Sheridan Harris had picked out herself as she peered down at a massive cookbook. Her eyes flicked up to find them, both father and daughter. She didn’t smile as she said, “Amanda. Good to see you. Merry Christmas.” Immediately after, her lips were pressed into a straight line. How fitting, Amanda thought to herself.
Amanda was grateful that she didn’t bother to step around the counter and hug her. They were only nine years apart in age. It felt like they were in a kind of forever-dispute. My god, what was her father thinking when he left her mother for this woman!
Amanda’s father ran his fingers through his hair and blinked at his new girlfriend. He then turned his eyes toward Amanda. Amanda’s stomach clenched. What the heck was going on? Why was the air so sour? The tension was so thick she could have sliced right through it.
“Merry Christmas to you as well. We just finished coffee,” Amanda finally said, trying to ease the awkwardness in the room.
“I know.” Penelope rolled her eyes slightly.
“And Dad said he has my mail.”
Penelope let out a terrible laugh. “Is that what he said?”
Again, Amanda sensed she’d said something wrong. “Yes, it is. I’m sorry, but am I missing something?” She asked as she stole a glance at her father and then back at Penelope.
“Penelope, don’t,” Richard tried.
A Vineyard Vow Page 2
