by Nancy Thayer
She didn’t know if she’d ever recover from the humiliating fact that Andy and his perfect girlfriend had seen her flailing around with her legs in the air like an overturned beetle, grasping for something to hold on to, spitting water out of her mouth as fast as it hit her in the face. Not a pretty sight.
But more important than her fall was the reality that Andy had been right there, walking with his girlfriend. True, while other people stood gawking, Andy had rushed into the torrent and pulled Christina free. He had lifted and carried her like a hero on the front of a romance novel. And he’d come to the hospital to see how she was. But that was something any friend would do, she supposed. And, indeed, the beautiful Anastasiya came with him—if Andy really cared for Christina, would he bring his ex-girlfriend with him? Of course not.
Which meant that Anastasiya was no longer an ex. Which meant Andy was coming to tell Christina that he was back together with the gorgeous model.
You don’t know that, her Inner Christina pointed out. Stop trying to make things worse than they are.
“I’m bruised. I fell on my ass in front of Andy and his exotic model lover! All my clothes are wet, and I’m all alone!” Christina retorted, and she was so emotional she didn’t care that she’d said it all out loud. After all, she was talking to her imaginary inner self.
“Maybe I’m crazy, too,” she whispered, and buried her face in her hands, letting the tears fall.
“They said you were in here.”
To Christina’s surprise, Harriet came through the curtain. She wore a clever green beret over her long blond hair—only Harriet could carry off a beret—that accentuated her green eyes. She had a hatbox with the words NANTUCKET COUTURE printed on the side.
“I’ve brought you some clothes,” she said.
“Oh, thank you, Harriet.” Harriet being nice? How many more shocks could Christina take? She quickly wiped the tears from her face and forced a smile.
Harriet set the hatbox on the bed and opened it. “I know what you’re thinking. I’m not a complete monster. That must have been so frightening. And you looked so ridiculous, wriggling around on your back like an overturned turtle. Thank heavens it didn’t happen to me.”
Christina burst out laughing. “Always Harriet, all the time!”
“I’m only saying what everyone else thinks. And I’m here, aren’t I? Mimi had to go back to her store. The wharf is open now. It’s above freezing, so there’s no ice and it’s safe to walk there. I know you want to get back to your shop so I raced home to get you something to wear.”
“That’s so thoughtful, Harriet. I hadn’t even considered how I would dress to leave.”
“Well, here. You can wear this while I drive you to your house for your own clothes. Try this tunic with the tights. It might work.”
Christina slid off the bed, peeled off the hospital robe and johnny and slipped the tunic over her head. It fit, but oddly. Harriet had a voluptuous figure, and Christina was more slender and small-boned. The dress sagged around the bosom and hips. When she pulled on the tights, they drooped and crinkled. The two women grinned at each other.
“I don’t have any shoes,” Christina said. She pointed to her soggy red boots that someone had deposited beneath a chair. “Those were so expensive and they’re ruined.”
“Nonsense,” Harriet said briskly. “Stuff them with newspaper and let them dry. They’ll be fine.”
“I’ll try.” At the moment, Christina had little hope for anything being fine. She looked down at her feet wrapped in the hospital’s paper slippers. “I can’t walk in these.”
“I’ll pull the car right up to the door and then I’ll drive you home. You can tolerate it that far. Then I’ll drive you in to work.”
Christina teared up again. Her emotions were all over the place. “You’re so nice, Harriet.”
Harriet snorted. “You’re just in shock. Here, I brought you one of my coats.” With a few brisk movements, Harriet put Christina’s sodden clothes into a large clear trash bag. “Okay? Good to go?”
“My hair…” Christina pushed it away from her face. “It must look like a bird’s nest.”
“I’ve seen it look worse,” Harriet said with a wicked grin. “Let’s go.”
The new hospital was enormous, and for a few minutes, they had to concentrate on finding their way out. Finally they arrived at the front desk. Harriet went off to get her car while Christina checked out, and suddenly Christina was sitting in Harriet’s slightly beaten-up MG convertible. It was Harriet’s pride and joy, and a sign to everyone that she was classy, but it was so low to the ground Christina thought they might drive right under some of the trucks in front of them.
Harriet waited in the living room while Christina pulled her long brown hair back into a ponytail. She tugged on warm black Lululemons, an oversize blue cashmere sweater, and tossed on a white scarf covered with blue penguins—last year’s Christmas gift from Mimi. Thankful that she was a bit of a shoe addict, she slipped her feet into a pair of high black boots.
She hurried down the stairs. “Thanks for waiting, Harriet. I’m ready.”
Harriet scrutinized Christina. “You don’t look very Christmasy.”
“I don’t care. I’m warm.”
“Well, your hair looks nice. I suppose that’s one good thing about having curly hair.”
Christina laughed. Would Harriet ever be able to give a compliment without adding some kind of reservation? Oh, it didn’t matter. Harriet had taken the time to fetch her from the hospital and that meant a lot.
Harriet found a parking space in front of Jewel in the Sea, so the two women didn’t have far to walk to their shops. They headed down lower Main toward the wharf. The sky was blue and the air was almost balmy.
“Isn’t it ever going to snow?” Christina complained. “It’s Christmas, for heaven’s sake!”
“I don’t believe it,” Harriet said.
“What?” Christina turned to see Harriet a few steps behind her, in front of the restaurant b-ACK yard BBQ.
Christina went to stand next to Harriet. Through the large plate glass window, she saw Delia Bittlesman having lunch with Jacob. They were engrossed with each other, leaning forward so far their heads almost touched.
“Bastard,” Harriet said.
Christina linked her arm through Harriet’s. “Come on now, we can’t stand here gaping at them.” She dragged Harriet away from the restaurant window.
Harriet trudged along next to Christina, emitting an aura of misery. “Well, you saw him, too. Jacob’s getting up close and personal with Delia.” Harriet kicked at a pebble. “I wish those Bittlesmans had never come to the island.”
“I agree,” Christina said. “But listen, Harriet. I don’t think your snotty persona is working with Jacob. I wish you’d try being nicer to everyone and really nice to him. You’re beautiful. I think he’d respond well if you were…softer…with him.”
Harriet sighed. “I’d just make a fool of myself.”
“It takes courage to love someone,” Christina said.
“Now you sound like a greeting card.”
“Okay, that’s enough from me. Come on, the wharf is swarming with shoppers.”
Harriet pointed at a small square of land surrounded by sawhorses and yellow police tape. “The DPW certainly worked fast.”
Christina’s stomach dropped when she saw the site. She took Harriet’s hands in hers. “Harriet, thank you for taking the time to help me. I’ll treat you to dinner some night.”
“You don’t have to do that, Christina,” Harriet said. “We’re friends!”
“And we’ve got a lot to talk about!” Impulsively, Christina leaned over and kissed Harriet’s cheek.
The women exchanged warm smiles and went their separate ways to open their shops. So something good had come out of this terrible day, Chr
istina thought.
* * *
—
It felt wonderful to unlock the door and step inside her shop. It was cold, but that would change once she flicked on her little electric radiator. The room was familiar and orderly. Each shelf displayed wooden lighthouses, wicker picnic baskets, bejeweled mermaid books, all unpacked by her own hands and placed exactly where she wanted them. The small shop was bright and cheerful with color, all her treasures waiting expectantly to be discovered and cherished.
She loved this shop.
She was not going to let it be taken away by Oscar Bittlesman without a fight.
Christina was barely behind the counter with her coat off when customers flocked in. The rest of the afternoon she had no time to think, or to check her phone, which lay on a shelf beneath the cash register with her purse, pinging every five minutes, or so it seemed. When six o’clock arrived, darkness had fallen and a breeze had kicked up. By then, Christina was feeling the effects of her fall. She wanted to go home, curl up in front of the television, and drink chicken noodle soup. She turned off her electric radiator, locked her door, and carefully and quickly made her way over to her car on Union Street. She was glad she’d driven to work this morning. She didn’t have the energy to bike home.
And it wasn’t simply her body that ached. Her heart hurt so much when she thought of Andy that she whimpered. She was proud of herself for keeping it together all afternoon. She drove home, jacked up the heat, and turned on the Christmas tree lights. Mittens rubbed up against her ankles, mewing. The world might be coming to an end for Christina, but Mittens wanted her dinner, now.
Christina opened a can of Fancy Feast, set it in a clean bowl—Mittens liked her bowls clean—and put it on the floor for the cat. She was pouring herself a glass of wine when her phone buzzed. Wink!
“Christina, are you okay? Mommy said that Uncle Andy said that you had an accident!”
Christina was so touched by Wink’s concern that she felt like she was nine years old. Maybe the Bittlesmans weren’t such monsters after all, if Andy had thought to tell Delia and Delia had allowed Wink to call Christina.
“Christina? Are you there?”
Christina laughed. “I’m here, Wink, and I’m just fine. It was such a crazy thing! A water pipe broke beneath the bricks on the wharf and exploded right under me! For a moment I felt like I was on a ride at Disney World!”
“That’s cool!” Wink laughed. “I wish I’d seen it!”
“I wish you’d seen it, too,” Christina said.
“Mommy says we can come bring you dinner. Maybe soup.”
Christina was so surprised she couldn’t speak for a minute. “Sweetie, that’s so nice of your mother, but it’s not necessary. I wasn’t hurt. I’m fine. I’m just about to step into a long, hot bath.”
“Okay! Catch you later, alligator.”
“After a while, crocodile.”
She nibbled some cheese and crackers while she sipped her wine. Her phone buzzed again. Andy.
No. She couldn’t deal with him tonight. She wasn’t thinking clearly and she didn’t want to say anything foolish because she was so emotional. She left the phone on the kitchen counter and went upstairs to take a hot bath. But the idea of water, even hot, was suddenly unappealing. She pulled on her warmest pajamas and crawled into bed. In a moment, she was asleep.
She opened her eyes to a new day. She fed Mittens, made coffee, and sat down to check her cellphone. It was dead. Of course it was, she hadn’t charged it at all yesterday or last night. She plugged it in and took a shower and shampooed and blow-dried her hair and put on fresh clothes while the phone was charging.
Back in the kitchen, she tossed blueberries on her granola and sat down to eat while she scrolled through the messages on her phone. Her good friend Louise had called several times. Mimi and Harriet had called several times.
Andy had phoned about fifty times. He’d also left several voicemail messages.
The first few were versions of “Christina, I hope you’re all right. I really want to speak with you.”
The next one was longer. “Christina, I’m afraid you got the wrong idea. I want to explain about Anastasiya. She wasn’t with me. We ran into each other on Main Street. She’s engaged to Wonk, who’s the running back for the Patriots. They’re visiting Belichick, staying at one of his guesthouses on his compound. She was headed for the Hy-Line to make reservations because the forecast is for strong winds so planes can’t fly. I was coming to see you, and we ran into each other. We had barely said hello when we saw you and then the pipe burst. Christina, you’re the one I care about. Please believe me.”
After that message, Christina shut off her phone.
Absentmindedly setting her cereal bowl on the floor so her cat could drink the milk, she leaned her chin in her hands and said, “Mittens, we have a lot to think about. I suppose what Andy said could be true. Okay, let’s just walk out on a ledge and believe that what he said is true. I mean, if he was back with Anastasiya, why would he tell me those things?”
She turned on her phone. When it was ready, she scrolled through her contacts to find Andy’s number.
She stopped, her finger trembling over his number.
“No, Mittens,” she told the cat. “I’ve got to have it out with Oscar before I can be clear about Andy.”
Mittens yawned.
Christina stood up. “I have an idea,” she told Mittens. “A really good idea. I’m going to go see Oscar. I’m going to challenge the man.”
Once again she dressed in her power outfit, the pantsuit and gold charm and Hermès scarf. She rolled her hair up into a messy bun like Meghan Markle’s, and took time carefully and skillfully applying eyeliner and red lipstick. She carried her briefcase with her, even though only her wallet and a sandwich were in it. She had to wear her lumpy down coat because her wool coat had to go to the cleaners before she could wear it again. She pulled on a pair of red mittens, added a red wool cloche hat, and went out to her car.
She shook with nerves as she drove around the streets and up the brick road to the house on the cliff. She checked her lipstick in the visor mirror, picked up her briefcase, and strode to the door.
She knocked firmly on the door of Oscar Bittlesman’s house.
“Christina!” Janice’s eyes went wide with surprise. “What are you doing here? Everyone else has left—”
“Is Oscar here? He’s the one I want to see.”
“Well, yes, he’s here, he’s finishing his breakfast…”
Christina stepped over the threshold, making Janice back up in the process. Christina had a moment of guilty exhilaration. She felt kind of like a gangster.
“I won’t take more than a moment,” she told Janice.
“He’s on the sunporch. Down the hall and to the right.”
Christina strode down the hall, her boots making satisfactory stamping noises, as if she were an entire herd of people. The sunporch was small and lovely, papered in a beautiful yellow silk fabric printed with birds and flowers, with sun streaming in through the triple-glazed windows.
Oscar looked completely out of place in this pretty room. He had a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon in front of him. Another place was set across from him, a plate half-full of eggs and toast. A cup of coffee with lipstick on the rim. Christina tucked this information in the back of her mind to be reviewed later.
Oscar stared at Christina, scowling.
“Don’t get up,” Christina said, even though—or maybe because—she knew the older man had no intention of politely rising at her entrance.
“To what do I owe this surprise?” Oscar asked.
She pulled out a chair next to him and seated herself. “I’m throwing down a challenge.”
Oscar leaned back in his chair and smiled. “You are, are you?”
She didn’t let his arr
ogant attitude get to her. “If I’m right, Oscar Bittlesman, you’re a betting man. I’m daring you to come work in my shed for just one hour. If you manage to stay for one full hour, I’ll pay the increase in rent. But I’m betting that after an hour in that creaking, shaking, drafty rectangle of old wood, you’ll see you’ve been charging too much and you won’t raise the rent. You’ll know you’re lucky enough to get the rent you’re getting now.”
Oscar squinted at her. “You’re aware, young lady, that you have no right to burst into my private home this way and sit at my table without invitation.”
“I do know that. I’ll leave the moment you accept my challenge.”
He was frowning so hard he looked like a bulldog, but Christina caught the glint of interest in his eyes and held firm, glaring right back at him.
Oscar raised his chin defensively. “Fine. One o’clock tomorrow. One hour exactly and not a second more.”
“I’ll see you then.” Christina didn’t bother with any normal niceties. She stood up, turned her back on him, and strode back down the hall, head high, triumphant.
Janice was waiting by the front door.
“Thanks, Janice,” Christina said. “You can return to your breakfast now.”
“Christina, wait.” Janice put her hand on Christina’s arm and pulled her gently out onto the front porch, pulling the front door almost shut behind her. Janice looked especially pretty today in a simple green wool dress and cherry red earrings.
“Is something wrong?” Christina asked.
“Not wrong at all. But there’s something I need you to know. Christina, Oscar is not simply my employer.”
Christina grinned. “I thought you might have something going on with the old grouch. But why keep it secret, Janice? Does he enjoy treating you like the help?”
Janice bristled. “No, he does not! For your information, not that I want to share this with everyone, Oscar has asked me to marry him.”
