“Which island is better?” Ava asks.
“Nantucket,” Nathaniel says. “Because you’re here.”
Ava doesn’t want to react to this, although she’s pretty sure her heart just flipped over. But no—her heart isn’t in play. She’s in love with Scott.
Right?
Nathaniel says, “Can I buy you a drink?”
“God no,” Ava says. “I have to get back.”
“Your singing was amazing,” Nathaniel says. “I could hear your voice soaring over everyone else’s. You know what I really miss? I miss the way you used to sing in the truck.”
“Nathaniel,” Ava says. “Stop.”
“Can you come over tonight?” Nathaniel asks.
“No!” Ava says.
“Please?”
“No. I’m dating Scott. You know that.”
“But you’re not engaged?”
“No,” Ava says.
“So why don’t you stop by when you’re finished here?” Nathaniel asks. “We can have a glass of wine, I’ll put some wood in the stove and we can catch up. All very innocent.” He lowers his voice. “Have you heard anything about Bart?”
He knows just where’s she’s vulnerable. Bart. Her little brother, missing. Nathaniel and Bart had been great friends, whereas Scott barely knew Bart.
For a split second, Ava is tempted. Nathaniel’s cottage is cozy and charming. He has a lusciously soft blanket on his leather sofa that they used to refer to as “her” blanket. Nathaniel feeds specially treated kindling into his woodstove that glows blue and purple through the grate. He has a great collection of wine and even better jazz records. Ava can vent all the anxieties and concerns about Bart that she’s been bottling up inside—because Scott, she’s certain, is tired of hearing them.
Ava holds on to her wits. “Thank you for asking,” she says. “But no.”
“What about tomorrow?” Nathaniel says.
Ava thinks about the next day. It’s Stroll weekend, they have a full inn, and tomorrow night the entire family is going to the black-tie gala at the Whaling Museum to celebrate the Festival of Trees. Sunday is Genevieve’s baptism, followed by a lunch.
“I don’t have time,” Ava says.
Nathaniel gives her a skeptical look.
“I’m sorry,” Ava says, trying to ignore how great it feels to be turning him down. “It was nice to see you, though, Nathaniel. Happy Stroll.” Ava weaves her way back to the caroling party and taps Scott on the shoulder. He turns away from Roxanne and puts his arms around her.
“Finally, you saved me,” he whispers in her ear. “Roxanne is tedious.”
Ava rests her head against the scratchy tulle of the Christmas tree on Scott’s sweater. She closes her eyes and thinks, Nathaniel can’t do anything to win me back. But then she has a memory of riding in Nathaniel’s pickup truck out to Coatue on a hot August afternoon. They were both drinking cold cans of Whale’s Tale Ale, bouncing over the dunes on the beach with the windows open and the radio blaring “Bohemian Rhapsody” by Queen. Ava sang along, hitting all the high notes, and Nathaniel said, “Yeah! Go get it, sister!”
Ava remembers never wanting the song, or the moment, to end.
“Can we please get out of here?” Ava says to Scott. “Go to the next place?”
“You haven’t even had a drink yet,” Scott says.
Whose fault is that? Ava nearly asks him.
“Please?” she says. “I really want to sing ‘Joy to the World.’ Let’s go to Ventuno.”
“Is everyone else ready?” Scott asks. But it’s clear the only person he cares about is Roxanne. “Are you ready to go to Ventuno?”
Roxanne finishes her glass of red wine and sets it on the bar and beams. “I’m ready for anything!”
She is exquisitely beautiful, Ava thinks. And she’s fun. On Ava’s best day she isn’t half as beautiful or as fun-loving as Roxanne Oliveria. No wonder Scott is so captivated.
Scott says, “Okay, let’s go then.” He uses his assistant principal voice to get everyone’s attention. “We’re headed across the street to Ventuno!”
The group gives a cheer and puts on coats, hats, and gloves. Ava checks to make sure no one has left behind his or her songbook.
Jennifer approaches. She says, “I think this is where I peel off. The boys are probably driving Kelley batty.”
“Daddy’s fine,” Ava says. “He loves hanging out with the kids. He told me he was going to teach them to play cribbage.”
“Yeah, but it’s three against one. They’re probably teaching him to play Assassin’s Creed. I should save him.”
“I want you to stay,” Ava says. She needs to tell Jennifer about Nathaniel.
Jennifer runs a hand through her short, dark hair, and gives Ava a weary smile. “I’m beat, Ava.”
Ava hugs her sister-in-law. Jennifer puts up such a strong, implacable front that it nearly masks the fact that Patrick is in jail and Jennifer has been left to handle everything in his absence. She has, essentially, become a disaster specialist and a triage nurse. She dealt with the state’s attorney office and the local media blitz; she stood by Patrick publicly and privately. She has kept life as normal as possible for the boys, and she’s managed to proceed with two massive interior design projects.
“Go home and get some sleep,” Ava says.
“I’m stopping at Murray’s for a couple bottles of chardonnay on the way home,” Jennifer says. “Your mom will probably want a glass when she gets here.”
“Good idea,” Ava says. Kevin is normally in charge of making sure there’s alcohol in stock at the inn, but since the baby was born, he has, understandably, lapsed in his duties.
Jennifer leaves the bar and Ava waits for Shelby and Zack and Scott—and Roxanne. She can’t help herself from turning around one more time to look at Nathaniel.
Come over, he mouths, pointing to his watch. Later.
Ava smiles and shakes her head.
Ventuno is so close to the Boarding House that Ava can throw a softball at it. And yet, the second they embark on the journey, there is drama.
Roxanne falls down in the cobblestone street. She starts screaming.
Ava and Scott rush over to where Roxanne is huddled in a heap, clutching her ankle. Ava sucks in her breath. The ankle is twisted at a gruesomely unnatural angle. Broken.
Scott whips out his phone and dials 911.
Elliott the saxophonist says, “We need to get her out of the street.” He looks to Zack. “Should we carry her over to that bench?”
“You’re not supposed to move her,” Barry the groundskeeper says. “Leave her be until the ambulance gets here.”
“I think that’s only the case with head trauma,” Shelby says. “I think we should get her out of the road.”
Roxanne is howling with pain and Ava’s skin prickles beneath her scratchy sweater. Scott is kneeling next to Roxanne, holding both of her hands in his, murmuring words of comfort. Ava shuts her eyes. That ankle does not look right; just thinking about how the doctor will have to set it makes Ava cringe. Roxanne will most likely have to have surgery, which means she will be taking the Med Flight to Boston.
The ambulance arrives with sirens blaring and lights flashing antagonistically amongst all the holiday lights. The Ugly Sweater carolers are gathered in a loose knot around Roxanne but when the paramedics hop out, they disperse.
Shelby squeezes Ava’s arm. “I hope the heels were worth it.”
It was, by anyone’s standards, a poor choice of footwear, but Ava can’t even blame Roxanne for her vanity. Roxanne shrieks as the paramedics lift her onto the stretcher. There is no way she is exaggerating for Scott or anyone else’s benefit. The woman is in serious pain, and Ava thinks, Oh please, please let her be okay.
The paramedics load Roxanne into the back of the ambulance—and away they go to Nantucket Cottage Hospital.
Scott finds Ava in the crowd. “Bummer,” he says.
“Huge,” she says. The Ugly Sweater Caroling party has come to a crashing halt. There will be no Ventuno, no Town, no Dune, no last call at Lola, and no “Joy to the World.”