113 Katama Rd

by Katie Winters

  “I’ve seen him around.”

  “That doesn’t sound promising.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe it’s too soon.” Camilla swallowed the lump in her throat and stepped around her daughter, suddenly ravenous. She stepped into the kitchen and grabbed a package of chocolate chip cookies. She let the salty gooey yet eternally sweet morsels fell against her tongue.

  Andrea followed her in and placed her hands on her hips. Camilla knew better than to hide her true feelings from her daughter, but still, since the night at the hospital, she hadn’t been able to tell her daughter what Jonathon had explained to her about Montlake Investments. She felt whiplash around the entire thing, as though all the rules of the universe had just been flipped on their head.

  Andrea’s phone sat on the counter between them. It suddenly lit up and buzzed; the name on the screen read: DAD. Andrea scrunched her nose and tapped her finger on the red button to end the call before it had begun. Camilla’s heart dropped lower in her chest. Even that night at the hospital, Andrea had spent only a few minutes with her father. “I don’t have anything to say to him,” she’d told her mother tearfully afterward.

  “I don’t know why he keeps calling me,” Andrea breathed.

  “He loves you.”

  “His actions certainly haven’t shown that.”

  Camilla placed her half-eaten cookie on a napkin. Her last image of Jonathon came from the previous afternoon when she’d stopped by his small apartment to make sure he had enough groceries and that he wasn’t in too much pain. He had lost even more weight, it seemed like, and his cheekbones threatened to pop out from his skin. His eyes had glowed with something that had reminded Camilla of the love they’d once shared. Maybe it was all in her head.

  Truly, it was over. She was sure of it. Maybe.

  PRE-WEDDING DRINKS began at three in the afternoon, in the gardens that surrounded one of the lavish mansions just outside of Edgartown. The garden was a glorious wonderland of lilac bushes, daffodils, roses and bushes that were elaborately sculptured into swans and other animals. Various amounts of people were already standing about holding sparkling cocktail glasses, their eyes bright and their outfits iconic and expensive. Camilla, an everyday woman, a nurse with an everyday woman’s salary, stepped into the crowd sheepishly.

  She felt they all knew her to be not-one-of-them, not by a long shot. Before anyone could call her out, she ordered a Negroni from the bartender and then stepped out toward the side, where an oak tree cast a nice shadow across her cheeks.

  “Cam! Hey!”

  Camilla spun around, grateful to hear Olivia’s familiar voice ring out through the crowd. She was dressed in a beautiful, light yellow dress, cut high toward her neck, and her legs looked spectacular and athletic, assuredly from her countless hours of lifting boards and spackling walls and fixing up that mess of a mansion. Beside her, Anthony was dressed in a remarkable suit, and he’d cleaned himself up from his standard “handyman” look. He seemed captivated with Olivia, and the sight made Camilla’s heart surge with love for the two of them.

  “Hey! I’m so glad you’re here. I feel like a fish out of water,” Camilla muttered under her breath.

  “Jennifer is around here somewhere, but she’s putting out fires, mostly,” Olivia said. “She’s been helping Charlotte Hamner with the wedding planning, which is basically ridiculous. I mean, Jennifer already works two full-time jobs.”

  “She’s a crazy one.” Camilla caught sight of their Jennifer as she eased through the crowd with her chin held high. She seemed to pick up and drop conversations at will without ever missing a beat or putting anyone off. “I’ve studied her since I was four years old, and I’ve never managed to figure out her secret.”

  “Same.” Olivia chuckled.

  Soon afterward, Amelia, Oliver, and Mila caught up with Camilla, Anthony, and Olivia. They formed a tight group near the bartender and fell into easy banter. Amelia clutched her soda water and placed her hand across her stomach. Although she hardly showed, she glowed like a pregnant woman, so much so that several other women at the party approached her and told her how remarkable she looked.

  “Stop stealing the show from the bride, Amelia,” Camilla teased.

  “Just let me have a few months of beauty before I turn into a big, fat troll,” Amelia returned.

  The wedding was set to begin at four-thirty. Fifteen minutes before, the wedding planner, Charlotte Hamner, ushered the one-hundred and fifty guests from the pre-drinks area to another garden, set off to the back-end of the mansion, with a beautiful view of the water. White seats lined either side of an aisle. An usher led Camilla and her group off to the right, the bride’s side, where they sat in a line and flipped through their pamphlets, which discussed how the bride and groom had met, along with the backstories of their groomsmen and bridesmaids. Camilla remembered this well from her own wedding, which had been a very small, intimate affair, but she had written a whole bucket-load of information about her love for her Sisters in the wedding bulletin. As she also had two “real” sisters, she’d had six bridesmaids — something her mother had called “absolutely ridiculous, especially for such a small wedding.” Camilla hadn’t cared. She didn’t care now, either.

  A string quartet began to play off to the side. The violins, the cellos, they swelled with earnest beauty as the first of the bridesmaids began to walk down the aisle, arm-in-arm with groomsmen. Each was so young, so vibrant and filled with expectation for the next decades of their lives. In some respects, Camilla felt a pang of jealously — after all, she’d loved every era of her life; she would have done everything in just exactly the same way.

  Every single day with Jonathon. She wouldn’t have taken any of it back.

  When Emma appeared, arm-in-arm with Derek, the crowd stood. Emma was a fit, long-legged Manhattan beauty with a hungry commitment to traditional fashion. Her dress was sleek and modest but endlessly stylish, with a short train and sleeves. She beamed at the crowd with tears in her eyes. Derek, too, seemed on the verge of breaking down.

  Camilla thought back to Emma’s mother, who had died a couple of years before. How awful for this poor girl to have nearly everything here, on the day of her wedding, but not to have the woman who mattered the most.

  Probably, that was part of the reason why Jennifer had nearly broken her back to ensure every detail was perfect.

  As Camilla’s eyes traced Emma up the aisle, she caught sight of a familiar face, just a few rows back. Her heart jumped into her throat. There, in a perfectly cut suit, with a crooked grin that made him seem like he always knew more than any other person in the room, stood Doctor Brett Oliphant.

  What on earth was he doing there?

  But Camilla didn’t look away quickly enough. He stole a glance as his eyes latched onto hers and then winked as his smile grew wider and even more crooked. Camilla turned her head away swiftly and forced herself to concentrate on the scene just ahead. Emma had met with her fiancé; it was time for them to wed.

  “What’s wrong?” Amelia whispered beside her. “You’re white as a sheet.”

  Camilla cast Amelia a strange look. “That doctor is here. I can’t figure out why.”

  Amelia’s lips formed an O. “No way. Wow. That’s complicated.”

  “Tell me about it. Especially because I’ve been trying to avoid him.”

  The crowd sat for the saying of the vows. Together, these youthful adults starting their lives together, pledged their forever commitment to one another. Again, Camilla thought back to her own vows, which had come to nothing. In sickness, in health. If only Jonathon hadn’t lost all their money. If only he hadn’t cheated on her. If only.

  Amelia placed a tissue on Camilla’s lap. She hadn’t noticed she’d begun to cry. She thanked Amelia, who furrowed her brows.

  “Is my makeup okay?” Camilla breathed.

  “It’s fine. But are you okay?”

  Camilla shrugged flippantly. “Sure. Of course.”

  “You’ll tell
me if there’s something really wrong, right?” Amelia asked.

  Camilla returned her eyes to the happy couple as they shared their first kiss as a married couple. The crowd on either side of the aisle smacked their palms together, whistled, and roared. Emma and her husband walked back down the aisle, their smiles electric. Camilla remembered that back in December, the fiancé had had cold feet and backed out of the engagement, only to come back groveling. Is this how men were? Just kind of all over the place?

  Certainly, all the women in her life stood on solid ground. They were the strongest creatures she knew.

  Did this mean she needed to give Jonathon more slack? Especially if what he’d told her at the hospital was true?

  She just wasn’t sure about any of it any longer.

  “Come on,” Amelia said as she squeezed Camilla’s hand. “No more crying. Let’s get you another Negroni and get out on the dance floor. This will be my last chance to really kick loose before I become a lame mom and so big I won’t be able to move.”

  “Are you suggesting that the rest of us have been lame moms all this time?” Olivia asked.

  “I’m not suggesting it. It’s definitely true.” Amelia cackled as she laced her arm through the handsome Oliver’s. He dotted a kiss on her forehead as they headed back out for the reception. Camilla’s heart jumped with jealousy at the enormity of their new love.

  Chapter Twelve

  The reception was an elaborate affair. An event suited for the wealth and fame of Derek, who’d worked as a developer for a number of years and lived amongst the Manhattan elite for decades. Naturally, his decision to move to Martha’s Vineyard had been rooted in one thing: his love for Jennifer Conrad. From her view toward the side of the ballroom, Camilla watched as Derek wrapped his arms tenderly around the beautiful Jennifer and held her close to him. He whispered something in her ear, something that made her smile wider than Camilla had seen in years. It was true what they said that people deserved second chances at happiness. Derek and Jennifer were one another’s next steps.

  Camilla gripped her Negroni and turned to catch sight of her daughter as she cleared up the plates from the reception tables. She was focused, concentrated, and she paused with a full tray of dirty plates to speak with another of the staff members. If Camilla hadn’t known better, she would have thought Andrea did this kind of work all the time. She prayed that someday soon, Andrea would look back at this as a funny memory. Just a strange, in-between time, before she was allowed to stand on her own two feet, back in New York, and again, in her career after her own marriage to Isaac.

  “Hey, you.” Olivia squeezed Camilla’s upper arm. When Camilla’s eyes met Olivia’s, she found her beaming, red-cheeked and excited.

  “Hey! I saw you and Anthony out there dancing.” Camilla swept a blonde strand behind her ear. “You look so good together.”

  Olivia’s laugh twinkled. “You’re sweet. Anthony’s a little overwhelmed. He hasn’t been in public very much the past year or so. He’s been locked away in that mansion and all that. Anyway, he said he might head back home for the night.”

  “Oh. Does that mean you’re off, too?”

  “No way! My girls are here,” Olivia said. “Let’s keep dancing and drinking as long as we can. Like old times.”

  Camilla lifted her Negroni and clinked it with Olivia’s glass of chardonnay. “Won’t be that hard to convince me to do that.”

  After Olivia and Anthony said their goodbyes, Olivia dragged Camilla out to the center of the dance floor. In the previous half-hour, the live band had transitioned out, leaving a DJ in its place. This allowed for a chaotic mix of several dance-friendly hits, many of which took Olivia and Camilla all the way back to their teenage years. Camilla lost herself to the music; she swept her arms through the air and shimmied her hips. If she closed her eyes, she could half-convince herself she was actually twenty-five years old and that none of the sadness and longing of her middle age had caught up to her yet.

  Jennifer appeared in their midst after that. Always, she was a remarkable dancer, fluid and beautiful; she flipped her red curls wildly behind her shoulders and then grabbed Camilla’s hand to twirl her, around and around. Camilla laughed and laughed, in spite of everything, but when she let go of Jennifer’s hand, she nearly tumbled straight into Olivia. “I’m dizzy!” she cried as Olivia wrapped her arms around her to catch her.

  “This is really a beautiful party, Jen,” Olivia commented as she righted Camilla.

  “Charlotte really outdid herself, yet again.” Jennifer glanced toward the far wall, where the wedding planner, Charlotte Hamner, spoke with a furrowed brow to one of her cousins, Lola Sheridan. Sometimes, the Sheridan sisters helped out at these bigger wedding events. “Glad it didn’t have as much drama as that other wedding—the infamous Thanksgiving one.”

  “Yeah. This one was smooth-sailing, thank goodness,” Olivia said.

  “I have to find Derek,” Jennifer said. “He’s kind of a mess with his only daughter getting married and all that.”

  “Understandable! I’ll be a wreck when Andrea walks down the aisle.”

  Of course, Andrea’s plans for her wedding with Isaac would have a very different price tag and probably no wedding planner. Again, Camilla’s smile waned.

  When Jennifer disappeared, Camilla realized that Brett Oliphant had eased himself closer to her and Olivia, there on the dance floor. Throughout dinner, he had caught her eye several times, and she’d found her stomach aching with jealousy over the woman he’d spoken to throughout. According to Jennifer, the woman was Emma’s married aunt and absolutely atrocious, personality-wise. Still, Camilla couldn’t shake that she wanted to be the woman beside the handsome doctor.

  Had she really messed all that up? Had she missed her chance?

  But what about this crippling love for Jonathon?

  Gosh. She was a jumbled-up mess. She prayed she wouldn’t collapse in a heap of tears. Wasn’t that such a wedding cliché, anyway? A nearly divorced woman, unable to stop crying after too many cocktails from the reception bar. Pathetic.

  Olivia squeezed Camilla’s elbow. Camilla yanked her head around and gaped at her as Olivia muttered, “You look like you’re a million miles away. Do you want to take a break from dancing?”

  Camilla buzzed her lips. “Maybe. I don’t know. Maybe I should just go home.” She leaned a bit closer to Olivia to add, “Besides. We’re still on for midnight, right?”

  Camilla had plotted something rather beautiful for midnight. She just hoped everything aligned with her plans. It wasn’t the sort of thing that could make up for every wrong day or every bit of bad luck, but it was a bright light in the darkness.

  Olivia linked her arm through Camilla’s as they stepped across the ballroom. As she passed by the doctor, Camilla’s ears lifted to the deep baritone of his voice. Again, desire tugged at her heartstrings. She paused for the briefest of moments.

  And within that space of time, she heard Brett’s friend, the other incredibly handsome gentleman, utter the words: “Montlake Investments.”

  Camilla froze. Her eyes bugged out of her skull.

  Had she imagined it? Had he really said Montlake?

  Olivia turned her head and arched her brow. “What’s up?”

  With a sudden surge of energy, Camilla ducked off to the side of the ballroom, where they put their heads together conspiratorially.

  “You’re acting really weird,” Olivia whispered doubtfully.

  “Do you remember what I told you about what Jonathon said? About that weird investment company, one that I can’t find any information about online?”

  Olivia nodded. All the sisters had had their own opinions about the Jonathon-situation. Mila had doubted him to his core and said he’d just drummed up an idiotic excuse; Jennifer had said she wasn’t sure if she could trust him after so many wrongs. Olivia, on the other hand, had been doubtful about the lie. “It’s too specific,” she’d said.

  “Well, I just heard Brett’s fri
end say the name of the company. Montlake.”

  “What? That can’t be right.”

  “I’m pretty damn sure.”

  Olivia turned her eyes back toward the crowd. As they watched them, Brett tossed his head back mid-laughter; his mouth flashed into a brilliant smile.

  “He really is handsome. I can’t believe you went out with him,” Olivia breathed.

  “Not exactly helpful right now, Liv.”

  “Right. Sorry.” Olivia bit down on her lower lip contemplatively. “I might have an idea. Do you trust me?”

  “Absolutely not,” Camilla told her.

  Olivia’s smile was enormous, then. “Great. Let’s go.”

  Olivia half-dragged Camilla back toward the men. Camilla’s heart thudded dangerously in her throat. None of this felt right. She felt like a character in a play who’d just forgotten all her lines. When they reached the doctor and his friend, they lifted their dark eyes to the pair of them as their smiles waned.

  “Camilla,” Brett greeted with a nod. “I wondered if you’d make your way over to say hi.”

  A blush crept across Camilla’s cheeks. She couldn’t believe he had called her out on ignoring him. She suddenly felt terribly rude.

  “Brett, it’s good to see you. This is one of my best friends, Olivia, more a sister than anything.” Camilla was grateful that her voice didn’t waver with a lack of confidence.

  Brett and Olivia shook hands as Brett said, “Of course, Camilla told me all about her best friends. But I’ve heard about you around the island. The Sisters of Edgartown, they call you. Or is that just what you call yourselves?”

  Olivia’s laugh twinkled with life. The man beside Brett shifted his weight disdainfully. It seemed clear that he hadn’t wanted to fall from whatever topic of conversation they’d built together.

  “Casper Jennings, I’d like to introduce you to some of Martha’s Vineyard’s finest,” Brett said. “This is Camilla, who works up at the hospital with me. And this is Olivia who, if I’m not mistaken, works for the city council?”