Us too, Jennifer thinks. But those planes hold only nine people, and altogether they are… ten. Well, Paddy can stay behind a few flights, she thinks.
“The airport is closed until tomorrow,” the ticket man says. He delivers this news with a certain relish, as though he’s enjoying quashing people’s hopes and telling them their holiday plans are ruined. A streak of sadism must be a necessary quality for steamship employees. A nice, kind person with feelings couldn’t do this job with any efficacy.
The other two people in front of Jennifer, an older woman and a female college student, leave the line. Jennifer steps boldly up and gives the ticket man her most winning smile. “I have a reservation on yesterday’s two-forty-five boat, which was canceled,” she says. “I think I heard you say that there’s no way I can get on this boat.”
“You heard correct,” the man says. He’s overweight with thinning blond hair and florid skin. His name tag says Walter.
Waltah, Jennifer thinks.
“So there’s nothing I can do?” Jennifer asks. She leans on the desk and smiles wider, thinking she would do anything shy of seducing Walter to get on this boat. “I have my whole family with me because, you see, my brother-in-law Kevin Quinn is getting married. We’re a local Nantucket family.”
“Mazel tov,” Walter says.
“My other brother-in-law, Bart Quinn? He just got back from Afghanistan. He was one of the missing Marines.”
“God bless America,” Walter says. “Wish I could help you.”
“And my mother-in-law? Is Margaret Quinn.” Jennifer hates herself for disclosing this piece of information and trading on Margaret’s fame, but she is capital-D Desperate.
“I don’t know any Margaret Quinn,” Walter says. He puts a finger to his chin. “Actually, I do know her. I watch Channel Four nights I’m off.”
“Great!” Jennifer says, thinking that, once again, Margaret will be their golden ticket.
“But me knowing who Margaret Quinn is doesn’t make any more space on this boat. You get me, sweetheart?” He leans his head closer to her as though he’s going to impart a secret, maybe another ferry line servicing Nantucket that nobody else knows about or the name of a guy who sells car spaces on the black market. “Your only chance is finding somebody who already has a ticket on this boat and getting that person to switch with you. Maybe you offer a few hundred bucks? Or, since you’re local, maybe someone owes you a favor?”
“Right,” Jennifer says. “Thank you.” She tries to imagine Paddy and Bart and Margaret wandering through the vehicles, offering bribes.
“Seriously, sweetheart, I seen it happen,” Walter says. “And it’s the holidays. People are always nicer.”
Jennifer buys a ticket for tomorrow’s nine o’clock boat and decides to go outside and talk to Paddy. From here, the situation looks dire, and Jennifer feels responsible. She should have dealt with the ticket change right away. She’s an idiot!
Jennifer pushes out the door of the terminal just as a woman is pushing another door to come in. Jennifer looks up.
It’s Norah.
“Norah!” Jennifer says. She feels caught.
“I’ve been trying to reach you,” Norah says. “Are you going to Nantucket?”
“No,” Jennifer says. “It doesn’t look like it. My ticket is for yesterday’s canceled boat, and this boat is sold out, and the eight-fifteen is sold out. And I have the boys and Margaret and her husband and Bart.”
“Bart?” Norah says. “He’s home?”
“Just got home,” Jennifer says. She throws her hands up and starts to cry. “Or not quite home, I guess.” She wipes at her eyes. “Kevin is getting married tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Norah says. “Really?”
“Really,” Jennifer says. She has now spilled the beans to the only person who shouldn’t know. Great. Norah will probably show up and disrupt the proceedings at the moment when people are invited to speak out or forever hold their peace—but Jennifer won’t be there to see it because she will still be here in Hyannis. She will be watching the boys ride the carousel at the mall; their Christmas Eve dinner will be at Pizzeria Uno. “I need to get my car on this boat.”
“Take my spot,” Norah says. “I insist.”
“What?” Jennifer says. “You have a spot on this boat?”
“Yes,” Norah says. “For my truck. I’ve been in Boston. I tried to reach you…”
I deleted all your messages, Jennifer thinks.
“If we could take your spot…” Jennifer says.
“It’s happening,” Norah says. “Let’s go switch right now with my buddy Walter.”
“Your buddy Walter,” Jennifer says.
Walter switches the tickets in a matter of seconds. Jennifer is now on the boat that’s about to depart and Norah, using Jennifer’s ticket, will be on the nine o’clock the next morning.
Walter says, “Told you, sweetheart. Things like this usually work out. Have a merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Walter,” Jennifer says. She turns to Norah. “I don’t know how to thank you for this. You are… saving the day. And I mean really saving it. Not just for me—for the whole family.”
“Tell Kevin I said congratulations,” Norah says. “Sincerely. I want him to be happy.”
“I’ll do that,” Jennifer says.
“And that thing I wanted to talk to you about?” Norah says.
“Yes?” Jennifer says. Her stomach tenses as if a punch is coming.
“I’m applying to business schools,” Norah says. “I want to go legit, start something real. But I’d like to get an MBA. I was hoping you would write me a letter of recommendation.”
Jennifer laughs. A letter of recommendation? That is what Norah wanted this whole time? A letter of recommendation for business school?
“I understand if you don’t want to…” Norah says.
“Of course I want to!” Jennifer says. “I’d be happy to. I just… well, I thought you wanted to talk about… I don’t know… the stuff we were into before.”
“I’m finished with all that,” Norah says. “Moving onward and upward. But the letter is due January first, so I’ll need it next week.”
“Consider it done,” Jennifer says. She hugs Norah and kisses her cheek. “Merry Christmas, Norah, and thank you.”
She hurries out the door with her new ticket and waves at her family. They have a boat to catch.
CHRISTMAS EVE
KEVIN
Later, he will not be able to say how the Siasconset Union Chapel was decorated. (There was an evergreen wreath with a red velvet bow hanging from the end of each pew and, on the altar, two majestic arrangements of red roses, greens, and holly.) He will not remember what music was played. (The church organ was accompanied by cello and trumpet. The Quinns’ new friend Gordon Russell sang “O Holy Night” after the vows.) He will not remember what the bridesmaids wore (long red velvet sheaths, slit to the knee) or whether the bow ties were straight or cockeyed on his brothers’ tuxedos (Patrick’s tie was straight, Bart’s cockeyed).
All Kevin will remember is the moment the guests rose and he saw Isabelle Beaulieu standing at the other end of the aisle on the arm of her father, the rather dashing Arnaud Beaulieu. As recently as yesterday, Kevin might have said a wedding was superfluous. He and Isabelle already knew everything about each other; what did a piece of paper matter?
But as she processed toward him wearing a strapless column dress of the whitest silk with a long lace veil, her hair a crown of blond braids, her eyes dewy, her smile shy, it was as though he were seeing her for the first time. He got a lump in his throat.
What in his life had he done to deserve such an enchanting creature? How did he, Kevin Quinn, the middle brother, without the ambition of the older or the bravery of the younger, get so lucky? He had no idea, but he was grateful.
AVA
The wedding is storybook perfect. Sure, the chapel is chilly, but as soon as it fills with people, it warms up. Nathaniel, Ava notices as she starts down the aisle, must have been the last to arrive, or maybe he intentionally chose the back pew so that he would be the first person Ava saw when she processed in. She focuses on her three handsome brothers standing at the altar.