Caroline sets her phone down on the planks of the bridge; even touching it seems dangerous. Sofia has never, ever texted Caroline before. Sofia doesn’t have her number. She must have gotten her number from Isaac. Or taken it out of Isaac’s contacts.
Hi, Caroline, how is your weekend? It’s definitely Sofia; the syntax is what you’d expect from someone who’s fluent in English but isn’t a native speaker. How’s your weekend going? is how a person would ask if she really wanted to know, which Caroline assumes Sofia does not.
What is happening here? Caroline has a solid understanding of social media and she knows that you can’t tell when someone is looking at your account unless that person Likes or comments while you’re watching in real time, and Caroline has done neither. Sofia would be able to see if Caroline was active on Instagram if Caroline followed her, but she doesn’t. It’s a very spooky coincidence that Sofia texted while Caroline was stalking her page.
What can Caroline think but that Sofia has found out about her affair with Isaac? Maybe she checked Isaac’s phone and saw Caroline’s I miss you text. It was stupid to send that, so stupid! Maybe one of Caroline’s blond hairs turned up on the pillow. (Isaac said he was going to wash the sheets, but did he?) The text could be explained away—Caroline sent it to Isaac by mistake. Ditto a stray hair; Caroline worked in the loft, her DNA was everywhere.
Caroline decides to play it cool. Isaac probably told Sofia that Caroline was away for the weekend filming this thing for her mother and that he’d lent her his equipment as a mitzvah. Maybe Sofia found the idea intriguing; maybe when she was in Sweden she’d had a personality transplant and now cared about little people like Caroline. Or maybe—this was most likely—Sofia had an inkling something was going on but she wasn’t 100 percent sure. Or maybe Isaac broke things off with Sofia and she wants to cry on Caroline’s shoulder. (Not a chance.)
Caroline knows she shouldn’t respond, but she’s worried that silence implies guilt. Hey, she texts back.
A second later, Caroline’s phone starts to ring. It’s Maybe: Sofia.
Nooooooo! Caroline thinks. She can’t pick up. She might be able to come across as casual and unconcerned via text, but on the phone, her voice will betray her: I slept with Isaac, I fell in love with him. He ended things before you got home. I am heartbroken.
Caroline declines the call, then types: Sorry, can’t chat, I’m filming rn. I’ll call u later.
To which Sofia immediately responds: K.
Caroline’s hands are actually shaking. She takes a breath. Should she reach out to Isaac? The answer is obviously no. Sofia might have his phone in her other hand, waiting for that exact thing to happen. Caroline thinks about Sofia saying, Please, no trouble. Trouble for Caroline now means losing not only Isaac but her internship, and not only her internship but her reputation. What if Sofia goes to the Post and breaks the news of the affair and the Post sends a stringer up to Nantucket to take pictures of “Isaac Opoku’s other woman,” intern Caroline Shaw-Madden, film student at NYU? Caroline will be briefly infamous, like the nannies who break up the marriages of actors and rock stars. Being pursued by the paparazzi might seem glamorous but what would it mean for Caroline’s future? Would she be shunned by the documentary community? Or… would she be embraced by it? After all, she caught the eye of the great Isaac Opoku. She replaced (for a matter of weeks, anyway) Sofia Desmione!
Would anyone believe it? It’s so preposterous that, for a second, Caroline imagines making a documentary about herself: Sleeping with Genius: My Brief Affair with Isaac Opoku.
Caroline hears the crunch of tires over shells—the stars are home. Caroline stands up and shoves her phone in her back pocket.
The mood in the house is weirdly subdued. The women are quiet when they walk into the kitchen. Dru-Ann is missing; she must have gone straight to the Twist. Gigi and Brooke peel off down the hall. Tatum takes the remaining morning bun off the table and heads to her room.
“Did something happen in town?” Caroline asks her mother.
“No,” Hollis says. “Everything’s fine.”
Of course that’s her mother’s answer.
“How are you, darling? Did you get breakfast?” Hollis asks.
“Yes,” Caroline says. “Thanks.”
Hollis smiles. “I heard my friend Jack drove you to town this morning.”
“How did you hear that?”
“I had breakfast with him at Black-Eyed Susan’s,” Hollis says. “He told me you slept at the McKenzies’?”
“I did.” Caroline glares at her mother, daring her to pass judgment. “I met up with Dylan last night and I was too tired to get myself home, so I stayed over. Nothing happened.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Hollis says.
Caroline is suddenly incensed. First of all, she’s twenty-one, a full-blown adult, and what she does at night is none of her mother’s business. And second of all… “I can’t believe you had breakfast with Jack. Isn’t the whole point of this weekend to spend time with your friends? You are such a phony. You send the whole itinerary to your subscribers for them to fawn over, but little do they know, it’s a total sham. Shopping in town really means ‘I’m going on a cute breakfast date with my old boyfriend.’ And also, Mother”—here, to Caroline’s embarrassment, her voice breaks—“Dad just died, and you’re already moving on?”
“I’m not moving on,” Hollis says. “Jack is an old friend.”
Caroline is no idiot. She knows this is what happens—old people reconnect with their high-school sweethearts on Facebook and months later they’re getting married in the back garden with their adult children as attendants. “He told me he was still in love with you,” Caroline says.
“What?” Hollis says. “That’s ridiculous. He has a whole life elsewhere. Please, darling, you don’t have to worry about Jack.” Hollis holds her daughter’s gaze but she feels like Caroline can see right through her. Jack said he was still in love with her?
Caroline shakes her head. “If I posted the unedited footage of this weekend, your fans would have a whole new opinion of you.”
What can Hollis say? She has become popular for showing her followers her real life, but Caroline has a point: It’s not her real life at all.
26. Book in Hand, Feet in Sand
Back in her bedroom, Caroline feels a twinge of guilt. She considers apologizing to her mother, but breakfast with Jack? Kind of inexcusable.
Caroline’s phone dings. It’s her mother Venmoing her twenty-five hundred dollars with the memo Filming for HWH.
Caroline won’t lie: She’s hyped about the money. But it’s also a reminder that she isn’t here to mend fences with her mother; she’s here to do a job. The other ladies are all heading outside for the next item on the itinerary: Beach, lunch, pool.
There’s a bluebird sky. Caroline is going to fly Isaac’s drone.
The day Isaac taught Caroline to fly the drone was the most romantic of their time together. The night before, there had been violent thunderstorms, and when Caroline and Isaac woke up, the city air had that rare scrubbed-clean quality. Isaac declared they should fly the drone in Central Park.
Caroline didn’t pretend to be shocked—she was shocked. “You mean we’re taking our relationship outside?”
Central Park was showing off—green and leafy, flowers blooming. Everything seemed refreshed by the rain, even the people with their strollers and dogs and crazy exercise outfits, and none of them gave Isaac and Caroline a second look. While the two of them were wandering down the mall—lined on either side by benches, elms arching overhead to form an emerald canopy—Isaac put his arm around Caroline and kissed the side of her face. Right there in public! For one fleeting moment, they were just a couple of lovers enjoying the summer morning.
Caroline thought they would film at Bethesda Fountain or Sheep Meadow, but Isaac’s favorite spot was Conservatory Water, the pond on the east side.
He showed Caroline how to take the cover off the gimbal, the actual camera mechanism, and slide her phone into the controller.
“See, mon petit chou?” he said. “So easy!”
Conservatory Water was famous for the toy yachts zipping across its surface. From high above, they looked like so many dropped handkerchiefs, but Isaac showed Caroline how to lower the drone so close to the water’s surface that she felt like she was a little person riding along on the bow of the boat.
Now Caroline sets Isaac’s drone on the outdoor table by the pool, and, recalling Isaac’s instructions, she pushes the buttons that bring the drone to life.
It’s like a cute mechanical pet. But whereas most drones sound like a swarm of bees, Isaac’s drone is completely silent—and therefore stealthy. Caroline is thrilled when it floats over the table, across the pool, and above the dunes to the beach.
On the screen of her phone, Caroline has a bird’s-eye view of Hollis and her friends as they settle into their afternoon.