He needs to sell the Christys a house. He needs to find a different buyer for the Winter Street Inn.
He should never have gone into real estate in the first place, he thinks. It’s too risky, too uneven; it’s boom or bust. Why did he go into real estate? He has been a broker for over twenty years, but only now, Thanksgiving Day 2017, is he questioning his life’s most basic decision. He should have gone to the Benjamin Franklin Institute of Technology and learned HVAC. HVAC guys never have to worry about their next paycheck; HVAC guys are buying land on Vieques in Puerto Rico and building vacation homes.
Grace raises her glass of Perrier-Jouët. “This is really nice,” she says. “Just the two of us.”
It is really nice, although Eddie is surprised to hear Grace say so. She doesn’t tend to celebrate being alone with him—and can Eddie blame her? All he does is think about work and obsess about money.
“How did it feel, seeing Benton today?” Eddie asks. “Was it… weird?” Weird isn’t quite the word he’s looking for, but he doesn’t have a developed emotional vocabulary, as Grace will be the first to point out. What Eddie wants to know is: Does any part of Grace wish that she and Benton were still together? Does she miss him? Did she see his strong, muscular torso today at the Turkey Plunge and feel desire? Did she look into Benton’s soulful brown eyes and feel love?
“Eddie,” Grace says. “There’s something I have to tell you.”
Here it comes, Eddie thinks. The answer to all of those questions is yes. And didn’t Eddie sense that this morning? There was no way that was the first time Grace had seen Benton Coe. She has been secretly meeting him ever since Benton got back. When Eddie saw Grace on the Polpis bike path, she was riding home from a secret rendezvous. She probably wanted to go to the Turkey Plunge just so she could see Benton do the stupid, pointless, masochistic swim.
At that moment Grace’s appetizers arrive, and because the table is small, one is placed in front of Eddie—the scallops topped with black, glistening clumps of caviar. Why not add some gold leaf while they’re at it? And yet Eddie would buy every appetizer on the menu if that would make Grace love Eddie instead of Benton.
Once their server leaves them to enjoy the appetizers, Eddie says, “What is it?”
“I’ve been talking with Benton,” Grace says. “He called with a proposition when he got back from Detroit, and I’ve met with him three times to discuss it.”
Proposition. Met with him three times.
“Three times?” Eddie says. Grace is telling him the exact number of times she has been with Benton. Three! Three is a lot! Actually, it’s less than Eddie feared, but he won’t tell her that.
“Try the foie gras,” Grace says. “I’m happy to share.”
How can she be thinking about eating at a time like this? Eddie wonders. Granted, it’s Thanksgiving, but Grace is about to detonate the bomb that will destroy their marriage, their family, their lives.
I am not happy to share! Eddie thinks.
“Eddie?” Grace says. She’s looking at him across the candlelit table. The tables at American Seasons are all hand-painted with different scenes and schemes, and Eddie and Grace are seated at the chessboard table. This seems appropriate. He’s the king and Grace is the queen, but he has been forced into checkmate by their former gardener.
“What?” Eddie says.
“Benton has offered me a job. He wants me to come work for him, working in garden design and implementation. His partner left and Benton has more work than he can handle on his own. We always had the same aesthetic, the same sensibility—that was the attraction, I think, more than anything else. And he’s going to pay me, Eddie…”
Eddie lifts his eyes from the table.
“… twenty-five hundred a week to start. Plus bonuses, when projects reach completion. I told him I’d talk to you before I gave him an answer. But I want to say yes. The girls are growing up and I’m bored. Also, we could use the money.”
Twenty-five hundred a week, so ten thousand a month. With bonuses. A steady income.
But Eddie can’t risk having Grace work for her former beloved. Can he?
“What about… your feelings?” Eddie says. “Your feelings for Benton? If I say yes, you can work for him, and the next thing I know, you’re sleeping with him? How can I trust you, Grace?”
“I know that part will be difficult,” Grace says. “But let me start by saying that my romantic feelings for Benton are dead and gone. I’m fond of him as a friend. And he’s back together with McGuvvy. She’s still in Detroit now, but she’s moving to Nantucket after the holidays and they’re going to live together, and their house is also the office.” She smiles. “You don’t have anything to worry about, although I know my word doesn’t stand for much.”
Eddie takes a deep breath, then a deep drink of his twenty-six-dollar champagne. He feels like it’s Christmas instead of Thanksgiving. Grace is taking a job that will bring in real money! She’ll be doing something she enjoys! Benton is back together with McGuvvy!
“Your word is all I need,” Eddie says. After all, Grace has placed trust in Eddie as well; she believes he is no longer lying to her or breaking the law—and he’s not. He never will again.
Eddie floods with relief, with joy. He picks up his fork and tastes one of the caviared scallops.
“Delicious,” he says, and he flags their server to order another one for himself.
PART THREE
DECEMBER
BART
The first weekend of December on Nantucket is Christmas Stroll. It has been this way Bart’s entire life, but he never cared, barely noticed, and didn’t think to celebrate.
Until this year.
Because this year he’s in love.
He’s in love!
On the Friday of Stroll, Mitzi wants Bart out of the house because there are interested buyers coming to look at the inn. Bart heads down to Main Street, which is as busy and bustling as it is on any summer day—only now the shop windows are all decked out with snowflakes and glass ornaments, wreaths, ribbons, gingerbread houses, candy canes, and reindeer. Main Street is lined with Christmas trees, each one decorated by a class at Nantucket Elementary School. That was probably the last time Bart was excited about Stroll—when his fifth-grade class came downtown during the school day to hang their ornaments on their tree and Ms. Paul took them to Nantucket Pharmacy for hot chocolate.
When Bart steps into Bayberry Properties and sees Allegra’s face, Christmas has a whole new meaning.
She says, “I can take my lunch break now. Want to stroll?”
They hold hands and walk up the street, poking into the bookstore first, then into Murray’s Toggery, and then Bart leads Allegra over to the pharmacy for a nostalgic cup of hot chocolate. She takes a sip and gets a speck of whipped cream on her nose.
“I’m in love with you,” Bart says.
“What?” Allegra says. “You are?”
“I am,” Bart says. He doesn’t care if it’s too soon, he doesn’t care if they’re too young, he doesn’t care that they both still live with their parents at home. He doesn’t even care if Allegra is in love with him in return (okay, maybe he does care, but judging from the glow of her face and the light in her eyes every time she looks at him, he isn’t worried; she’s in love with him, too), because he gets it now. He gets it completely. The world makes sense. It has meaning, and that meaning is love, and love, for him, is Allegra Pancik.
On Saturday, Allegra has agreed to help her mother decorate for Christmas up at Academy Hill. There’s a tree in the lobby that needs trimming, and there is garland to be hung, as well as wreaths for the front door and all of the front windows. The residents of Academy Hill usually come down from their apartments to watch, and Mr. Lazear, who is “seriously ninety years old,” according to Allegra, and who used to be the music teacher back when Academy Hill was a school in the 1950s, leads everyone in carols.
“It’s actually kind of fun,” Allegra says. “I went with my mom last year. We could really use your help if you know anything about stringing lights or draping garland.”