Nantucket Blue

Forty-three





WE WENT TO SUE’S CLAM SHACK in Newport. We ordered fried clams, coleslaw, and lemonade, the kind that’s neon yellow and tastes wonderfully fake. We sat on the same side of the picnic bench so that we were both facing the ocean. I told Mom about working for George, and she told me about Boaty.

She said that they’d been in love. The relationship had only lasted six weeks, but at that time, it was the most exciting, romantic six weeks of her life. She felt like she was the star of her own movie. “He could light up a room with his smile. By our second day together we were making out in the broom closet and pledging our love under the moonlight. We were so happy, but our relationship was a secret.”

This was because of their jobs. The employees at the Nantucket Beach Club weren’t allowed to date each other. The beach club had two locations. One in ’Sconset and one near town. Mom worked at both. She worked at the one in ’Sconset with Boaty during the week, and the one near town with Paul Morgan on the weekends. Even though Mom didn’t recognize Paul yet, I knew this was true because Paul had talked about working at the club in town and so distinctly remembered her. I guess Mom had just been too gaga for Boaty to notice anyone else. The manager thought that employee dating, even between the two hotels, caused drama and distracted them from their jobs. “I was still in high school, but Boaty needed that money.” Also, what they were doing was technically illegal. Boaty was twenty-two. Mom was seventeen. “But,” she added, “I think the secrecy made it more exciting.” I knew exactly what she meant.

“So what happened?”

“Lilly Francis,” Mom said. “I knew her from my one semester at that awful boarding school. She was from one of the wealthiest, most powerful and well-connected families in the country. What Lilly wanted, Lilly got. And she had her eye on Boaty from the minute she saw him.”

“Did he like her too?”

“Not at first. He used to call her pig nose because she looked like this.” Mom used her index finger to push her nose up.

“That’s mean,” I said, laughing.

Mom shrugged. “But she was persistent, and as he came to understand who she was and the amount of wealth and connections she had…” Mom paused, ate a clam, and shook her head. She wiped her fingers on one of our stack of paper napkins. “Well, he stopped calling her pig nose and started calling her Lilly.”

“But he was in love with you,” I said.

“Yes, he was. I cut off his mullet and turned up his collar so that someone like Lilly would notice him in the first place. And I introduced them. I realized later he was dating us at the same time. But I guess the reasons I was so unbelievably attracted to him was the reason he left me: his ambition. When he met Lilly Francis, he found someone who could take him where he wanted to go, fast. The next time he came to Nantucket, he wasn’t working at the beach club. He was a member, and he was married to Lilly Francis.”

“You were the first one he stepped on, Mom. You were the first rung on his ladder to the top. You should talk to George.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“I can’t believe he left you for pig nose!”

“Can’t see a pig nose in the dark,” she said, and smiled.

“So, what happened with you? The journal just stopped.”

She shook her head. “He stopped talking to me cold. He ignored me. I was so heartbroken. I left Nantucket. I came home. He erased me, so I tried to erase him. I buried it. I told no one. There’s something about that first broken heart. In some ways, it’s the worst one.”

A father with his two little boys sat down across from us.

“Dad hates me,” I said. “What I said was terrible.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” she said. “But you do owe him and Polly an apology. He’ll cool down. He loves you, honey. He’s your father. And I love you. We’re your parents. No more pretending that you belong to another family, deal?”

“On one condition. You make this family better. You go out on a date with Paul Morgan.”

“I don’t even know who this man is.”

“You will when you see him. Come on, Mom.”

“I told you. I’m not ready to date,” she said.

“And I’m telling you that it’s time. Come on. He’s handsome and nice, and he thinks you’re great. And he has a cool house on Nantucket.” I studied her as I sucked down the last of my neon lemonade. She wasn’t budging. “Will you at least promise to stop watching Real Life Mysteries?”

“That’s my favorite show.”

“It’s on Saturday nights and it’s meant for people who are a hundred years old. Or at least fifty-five.”

“That’s not true,” she said.

“Then how come all the commercials are for adult diapers and Viagra?” I sighed. “It’s time to get a life, Kate.”

“You make it sound easy. And you may not start calling me Kate.”

“Maybe it’s not as hard as you think.” We threw our garbage away, walked back to the car, and got inside. We sat there for a minute staring at the water. I checked my phone. Still no word from Zack. I didn’t want to go back to Nantucket. I didn’t even want to go back to Providence. I wanted to stay right here, at Sue’s Clam Shack. Forever.

Mom spoke first, as if she could read my mind. “I can’t force you to go back. But you only have one week left. If you just quit, you’ll ruin your first job reference, and who knows if that writer will write you a letter of recommendation for college? Quitting right at the end doesn’t look good. And don’t you think it’s better to talk to Jules while it’s still fresh?”

“No. The thought of going there and talking to Jules gives me a stomachache.”

“Sometimes you have to do things that make you uncomfortable.”

“But you don’t,” I said, turning to face her. “You won’t even go on one date.”

“That’s different,” she said.

“Bullshit.” I unrolled the window and stuck my feet out. “This apple has landed directly under the tree.”

She leaned into her seat, rubbed her temples, and closed her eyes. Then she sighed.

“Put your feet in the car.” I did, and she started the engine. “Okay. If I go on a date with this Paul Morgan, will you go back to Nantucket? Will you finish out this job and talk to Jules?”

“Yes,” I said, and buckled my seat belt as we headed out of the parking lot. Then I leaned over and hugged her so hard we swerved a little onto the grass.

“Quick, turn on the radio,” Mom said as she steered us back onto the road. “Before I change my mind.”

I put on the ’80s station and turned it all the way up.

That night, I heard Mom laughing in her bedroom.

“What are you doing?” I called into the darkness.

“I’m reading my diary,” she said, nearly wheezing. “This thing is hysterical.”