The Forever Summer Page 17

  And so Nadine, in her furious defense of her father, came at Amelia.

  “I hate you!” she screamed, lunging for her. Amelia jumped aside, and Nadine grabbed the serving bowl of seafood paella and threw it to the floor. Shrimp, mussels, lobster, risotto, and glass flew everywhere. Nadine was not finished; she started for a shelf filled with plates but Nick restrained her.

  Amelia realized, as Nadine tried to tear apart the kitchen, that she had given her daughter the perfect excuse to turn her adolescent rejection of her mother into something far more damning. And something much more permanent.

  Marin wondered if she could go home early without seeming rude. How could she spend the night making small talk, waving miniature American flags and watching fireworks, knowing that Amelia was oblivious to the fact that her life was about to be shattered?

  She didn’t agree with Kelly’s decision not to tell her that the cancer was back, and she especially didn’t agree with her choice not to tell her that her doctor had given her such a grim prognosis. If it were Marin’s spouse, she would want to know, to have time to prepare. If Amelia knew how few nights she had left with her wife, Marin doubted she would waste one of them at this stuffy party.

  A waitress passed around crab cakes with aioli sauce served on red, white, and blue herringbone-patterned china. She bit into one and spotted Nadine heading toward her. Oh God, just who she didn’t want to talk to.

  “So this is it. Your last night,” Nadine said. She held an hors d’oeuvres plate in one hand and a glass of champagne in the other.

  “That’s right.”

  “Too bad we didn’t really get to talk very much. Hopefully the trip wasn’t a total wash for you.”

  Marin frowned. “Not at all. Why would it be?”

  “I don’t know. You tell me.”

  “I have no idea. I came to meet my grandmother. And I did, obviously.”

  “You came here with a woman you’d never met before so you could both meet your grandmother? I would imagine you have a pretty full life back in New York City, complete with grandparents from the people who actually raised you.”

  “It’s complicated,” Marin said.

  Nadine nodded, raising her glass of champagne to Marin’s glass of ice water. “To complications,” she said.

  “Yeah. Sure.” Marin glanced at Rachel across the room, hoping she’d catch her eye and come rescue her.

  “Although you know what I bet you don’t have in New York City?”

  Losing patience, Marin simply shrugged.

  “An enormous beach house,” said Nadine.

  “Excuse me?”

  Amelia joined them, smiling at the sight of her daughter and granddaughter together, oblivious to the fact that her daughter was basically accusing Marin of being a sleazy opportunist.

  “Hi, girls. Come out back. There are tables by the pool.”

  Nadine smiled at her mother. “Lead the way.”

  “Oh, Marin—since you have a handbag, can you take this home for me?” She slipped her one of the china plates.

  “What’s this for?”

  “Mosaics,” Amelia whispered with a wink.

  “Oh, Mother,” said Nadine impatiently. “Is that any way to behave at your age? Stealing from a dinner party?”

  “Do you think Sandra Crowe is going to miss one plate? Look at this place. Besides, she appreciates Kelly’s art. She’d be flattered.”

  Nadine shook her head.

  Amelia touched Marin’s arm to bring her along.

  “You know what?” Marin said. “You two go on ahead. I’m going to find the bathroom.” Actually, she was going to find Kelly.

  An idea was forming, one she wasn’t entirely comfortable with. But she realized she wasn’t choosing the thought—the thought was choosing her.

  Sandra Crowe’s guests, several dozen of them, gathered by the pool. Red, white, and blue paper lanterns were strung all around the veranda, and glowing paper lanterns floated in the pool. Rachel sat with Nadine and two couples visiting for the weekend from New York and Connecticut. The man to Rachel’s left spent a full twenty minutes telling her all the ways Provincetown differed from the Hamptons. He went through it in such meticulous detail, it was as if his assessment were the result of a long scientific study.

  She half listened, all the while thinking of the way Luke had looked into her eyes. Had he been about to kiss her? What would have happened if Thomas hadn’t knocked on the window?

  Rachel’s talkative new friend mercifully wandered off to visit another table. She wasn’t alone for long. Sandra Crowe slipped into the seat next to her.

  “I have been so looking forward to meeting Amelia’s granddaughters and I’ve barely had time to look in your direction,” she said. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

  “Yes! This is such a great place you have here. I love your house.”

  “I love your house,” Sandra said, touching her arm. She wore a pile of gold bracelets that made a clinking noise when she moved her hand. Rachel wasn’t sure what Sandra meant but then realized she was talking about the inn.

  “Oh, it’s not really my house,” she said.

  “Damn right it’s not,” chimed in Nadine from the other side of the table.

  Rachel was momentarily startled, but the sweet smile on Nadine’s face contradicted her sharp tone.

  Sandra turned to her. “Nadine, do you know how many times I’ve offered to buy that house? And now they’re not even running the inn—probably because it’s too much work. And really, at your mother’s age, who needs that much work? Don’t you agree?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do.”

  “You tell your mother that when she’s ready to unload it, I will write her a check for the asking price.”

  “We’ll talk,” said Nadine.

  Rachel, having nothing to add to the real estate conversation, glanced at her phone to check the time. She was itching to leave and looked around for any signs that dessert was on its way out.

  Was it too late to head over to Paul’s party? She was ready for some fireworks. And she wasn’t thinking of the ones in the sky.

  Marin watched Kelly from across the table. The way Kelly talked and laughed and toasted the holiday, Marin almost wondered if she’d imagined their conversation at the A-House. She wanted to believe she’d imagined the conversation.

  Finally, Kelly excused herself, and it was the opening Marin had been waiting for. She trailed her into the house, calling out to her in one of the beige living rooms.

  Kelly turned around, startled.

  “Jeez, Marin. You scared me. What are you doing?”

  “Following you.”

  “Obviously.” She tugged her long hair out of its ponytail and shook it loose. Her cheeks were flushed under the smattering of freckles.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she said irritably. “Go back to the party.”

  “Kelly, I’m really afraid you’re not dealing with this news at all. How can you be here talking and laughing like nothing is wrong?” Her eyes filled with tears.

  Kelly put her hands on Marin’s shoulders. “Marin, keep it together. It’s the Fourth of July. The official start of the summer season. And it’s your last night here, so please—if I can have a good time, so can you.”

  “What if it’s not my last night?” she said.

  “Meaning?”

  “I’m thinking of staying. I know you don’t want to tell Amelia what’s going on right now. But I want to be here when you finally do.”

  Kelly gave her a quizzical look, wrinkling her pert nose and narrowing her eyes.

  “Stay for how long?”

  “A month. Or maybe until the end of the summer. I don’t know exactly. I’m just not ready to leave. Would that be okay with you?”

  “Don’t do this because of what’s going on with me.”

  “It’s not just that,” Marin said, and she realized it was true. She wasn’t ready to get back to the mess of her own life
yet. “I like it here.”

  “Well, in that case, I’m all for it. I told Amelia we should have kept the inn open this summer. She is happiest with a full house, and to have it filled with family? It’s a dream come true.” Kelly stepped forward and hugged her. “Having you here for the summer will be good for all of us.”

  Marin exhaled in her embrace, feeling good about her decision.

  “Marin—hey. Are you heading out?” Rachel had somehow snuck up behind them.

  Marin did want to leave. She was exhausted.

  “Yeah. Soon.”

  “You girls should go to the pier and get a good spot for the fireworks. We’ll meet you there soon.”

  “No fireworks for me. I’m going home,” Marin said.

  “I was thinking of stopping by Paul’s party,” Rachel said.

  Kelly looked at her phone. “It’s probably winding down. It’s almost fireworks time. Come on, Marin. It’s the best part of the day. I’m going to round up Amelia and your mother now.”

  When she was gone, Marin turned to Rachel.

  “What’s the deal with Paul’s party? Everyone we know is here.” Oh—not everyone, she realized. Marin sighed. “For God’s sake, Rachel. Stop chasing that guy.”

  Rachel looked stricken. “What do you mean?”

  “Paul’s party? Luke? I mean, it’s obvious every time I see that guy he’s ready to jump into my pants.”

  “Oh my God, you’re disgusting!”

  “I’m disgusting? Okay, fine. Disgusting, but accurate.”

  “You’re just jealous!” said Rachel.

  “Of what?”

  “Your boyfriend dumped you so you don’t want anyone else to be happy!”

  Rachel turned on her heel and stormed off. Marin felt a small flicker of regret—had she been too harsh? But she was too worn out to care.

  “Oh, good—you’re still here,” Amelia said, rounding the corner and entering the room with Kelly close behind. “Kelly said you’re going home without seeing the fireworks? I won’t hear of it. Come along. You don’t mess with tradition.”

  Kelly touched Marin’s shoulder. “Come on, kiddo. Carpe diem and all that.”

  Marin was about to protest but…where had she just heard that expression recently? It was Paul—that first day at the A-House. When he told Marin that Kelly was a cancer survivor.

  She followed them out the door.

  Marin hadn’t spent much time at MacMillan Pier, though she passed it every single day. Right in the center of Commercial Street, it was where the ferry came in from Boston and where you could catch a whale-watching tour. There were quirky little art studios and a pirate museum. But tonight, the pier had one purpose and one purpose only: serving as one of the penultimate stops for the daylong Fourth of July extravaganza. Nine hours since the parade started, and the revelers were still going strong.

  Personally, Marin was over it.

  Amelia and Kelly set up folding beach chairs they’d picked up at the house on the way over. They wore red, white, and blue foil Uncle Sam high hats that were being handed out, and an artist painted a small American flag on Kelly’s cheek.

  Rachel perched on a narrow plank that bordered the walkway and the beach, facing the water, still pouting about what Marin had said to her, yet clearly craning her neck and looking around for Luke Duncan. Well, at least she couldn’t say Marin didn’t warn her.

  “I’m going to walk to the water,” Marin said to Amelia.

  “Okay, hon. If you see Paul or Bart, send them over.”

  Marin threaded her way through the crowd. Someone was blasting the Sia song “Chandelier” and something about the song and the pier and the water gave her a flash of déjà vu. It was a memory of a late-winter evening in New York, sometime well past midnight, walking along the East River promenade with Julian. He held her hand, something they had sworn never to do in public. But in that moment, he clearly had not cared; he had reached for her hand, and her heart soared.

  She shook the thought away, trying not to wonder what he was doing for the Fourth. She’d thought about it earlier and Googled where the Manhattan fireworks would be this year. Where she would have been, had life not laughed in her face.

  “Hey, Marin!”

  She turned at the sound of her name and saw Luke Duncan making his way toward her with long strides. It was no wonder Rachel had such a crush on him. His eyes were the brightest blue, the stubble on his jaw gold even in the fading light of the setting sun.

  “I thought that was you,” he said, grinning.

  A perfect, dimpled smile.

  “It’s me,” she said.

  “How was the dinner party?”

  “What, do you have our whole itinerary memorized?”

  He laughed. “No. I saw Rachel earlier. She told me you were all heading over to the East End.”

  “Yeah. It was fine.”

  “Not exactly a glowing review. Rumor has it Sandra Crowe is usually quite the hostess.”

  “What’s your deal?” she said.

  He cocked his head. “I didn’t realize I had a deal.”

  “Well, you’re wasting your time flirting with me when Rachel is clearly interested.”

  “Rachel? We’re friends. She’s—I mean, she’s a kid.”

  “She’s twenty-two.”

  “Exactly.”

  Marin sighed. “Okay, well, then maybe you should stop leading her on.”

  Luke ran his hand through his hair, wrinkling his brow in a way that was so adorable it almost cracked through Marin’s annoyance. Almost. “I’ve never been anything but friendly toward her.”

  “Whatever, Luke. But FYI, this”—she waved her finger between the two of them—“is never going to happen.”

  He laughed.

  “Is this amusing to you?” she said.

  “No. It’s just—I’m not hitting on you, Marin. Obviously, you’ve got a lot going for you. But I’m not looking for anything. I left enough complications behind in Rhode Island. Sometimes it’s just nice to talk to someone who’s close to my age and isn’t a gay man.”

  Marin turned red.

  “I’m sorry. I feel like an ass.”

  “Don’t. I’m sure ninety-nine point nine percent of the men who talk to you are hitting on you. I just want to put your mind at rest that I’m not one of them. That probably goes for any of the other guys out here.”

  She laughed. “Okay, then. But—you still shouldn’t lead my sister on.”

  “Point taken. Friends?” he asked, holding out his hand.

  “Friends,” she said, placing her hand in his. He pulled her into a quick hug. When she stepped back, still feeling more than a little silly about her assumption, she spotted Rachel a few yards or so behind Luke—too far away to hear their conversation, but close enough to see them embrace. Rachel looked stricken, and before Marin could wave her over, she turned and disappeared into the crowd.

  Oh, for heaven’s sake. Marin couldn’t take any more drama.

  She said a hasty good-bye to Luke and headed back to the house to go to sleep just as the sound of fireworks erupted behind her.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Marin woke up in a panic.

  Last night, just before going to bed, she looked through her calendar to decide what weekend she’d leave in August. The calendar must have played on her subconscious overnight, setting off the alarm bell she’d somehow failed to notice in all of the drama of the past two months.

  She’d missed her period. Two periods.

  Her exhaustion took on new meaning. What if it wasn’t just the emotional strain after all? She dressed quickly, planning to go to Adams Pharmacy, the only drugstore in town as far as she could tell. She hoped it was open early.

  “Marin!” Her mother poked her head into her room. “Amelia just told me at breakfast that you’re staying? I’m literally packing to go. When were you going to tell me?”

  “Not now, Mom. I have to run out for a few minutes. Just—hang tight for a half an
hour. I’ll be right back.”

  She hurried down the stairs.

  Outside, the day was bright and cloudless, warmer at early morning than it had been on most of the other days. She was sure Amelia was already beachcombing.

  She turned right, toward the pharmacy. It wasn’t until she spotted the white clapboard building that she began to feel nervous. The place looked so old-fashioned, it felt unseemly to be searching for a pregnancy test. A blue plaque outside read ADAMS PHARMACY, ESTABLISHED 1869 BY DR. JOHN M. CROCKER. PURCHASED IN 1875 BY JOHN D. ADAMS. OLDEST BUSINESS IN CONTINUOUS OPERATION IN ONE LOCATION IN PROVINCETOWN.

  She wondered, if in that long history, anyone had ever been more distraught than she felt in that moment walking through the door. She was going to bet not.

  Marin, panicked, felt a wave of nausea. Or maybe that was the pregnancy. Stop it, she told herself. Think positive. Or, rather—not positive. Think negative! Negative test results.

  The old-timey pharmacy limited her buying options. Instead of the dozen pregnancy-test varieties she would have had to choose from at CVS or Duane Reade, Adams had only one—First Response. One line, she wasn’t pregnant; two lines, she was pregnant. Simple enough.

  She was so out of sorts she nearly shoved it into her handbag and just walked out, but she remembered to pay at the last minute. That’s when she literally bumped into Kelly.

  “What are you doing here so early?” Kelly said, before noticing what Marin was holding. Kelly’s mouth formed a silent O.

  “I don’t know yet, okay? Just please don’t say a word!”

  Kelly raised a small white prescription bag. “One big secret deserves another.”