Emboldened by Dru-Ann—she’s saving the day like Superwoman!—Brooke says, “Yeah! Get out of here, Charlie!”
Charlie flexes and unflexes the fingers that Dru-Ann mangled. “My wife doesn’t need to be part of this cougar committee,” he says to Hollis. “You’re all… Wiccans!”
“We’re friends, Charlie,” Hollis says. “I’ve called you a cab. You should wait at the end of the driveway.”
Reluctantly, Charlie heads down the hydrangea-lined drive. He turns around and calls out, “Have fun burning your sage and gossiping about Luke and Laura!”
Dru-Ann marches up the porch stairs, puts an arm around Brooke, and says, “Girl, I’m sorry. I had no idea that’s what you were dealing with.”
Caroline bumps into Tatum as she comes in the side door. “What’s going on?” Tatum asks. “Where did everybody go?”
Caroline will let her mother explain later, but right now, she has an idea. “Are you busy?” she asks. “Because I’d love to talk to you alone and ask you some questions about my mom.”
“I’m free as a bird,” Tatum says. “Lead the way.”
Hollis isn’t sure how much more drama she can take. There was the breakfast with Jack, the news about Tatum’s biopsy, the revelation that Gigi also lost a man she loved, all the challenges with Caroline—and then Charlie Kirtley shows up out of the blue and calls them Wiccans?
“Are you okay?” Hollis asks Brooke.
“She’ll be fine,” Dru-Ann says. “We’re going back to the beach where the world can’t bother us.”
Hollis sees Tatum following Caroline down the basement stairs. “What are you two up to?”
“We’re going to have a little chat,” Caroline says.
Hollis blinks. “A chat? About what?”
Caroline smiles. “I want to talk to Tatum about her friendship with you.”
“That’s not on the itinerary,” Hollis jokes. “Sweetheart, I appreciate your creativity, but I don’t think Tatum wants to be grilled about our friendship.”
“I don’t mind,” Tatum says. She gives Hollis a look. “What’s wrong, Holly? Are you worried about what I’m going to say?”
“I’m just trying to get some historical context,” Caroline says.
“Historical context?” Hollis says. “You make it sound like we’re a hundred years old.”
“For depth and texture,” Caroline says. “Otherwise I’m just making a video scrapbook.”
That’s what Hollis wants, a video scrapbook. She appreciates that Caroline is taking this seriously, but she doesn’t have to go full-on Ken Burns and conduct… interviews.
“This kind of chat sounds too personal for the website,” Hollis says. “I don’t need people hearing details about my most intimate relationships.”
“Can you just relax, Mother? These are your friends. I just want to dig a little deeper. That’s what makes this weekend meaningful. Otherwise it’s just duvet covers and pecans.”
Henrietta rubs against Hollis’s legs, probably sensing her discomfort. “All right,” Hollis says. She raises her eyebrows at Tatum. “Be kind?”
“I’ll be honest,” Tatum says.
29. Pardon the Interruption II
Brooke and Dru-Ann are on the beach; Tatum is with Caroline. Where is Gigi? Hollis assumes she’s also on the beach, which gives her time to make the sour cream and roasted onion dip that she’s serving during the cocktail hour. But then Hollis hears Henny growling and finds the dog standing by the door to the library. Hollis checks the room, which is possibly her favorite in the house, with its blond-wood built-in shelves lined with books, interesting pieces of driftwood, and a world-class collection of quahog shells and beach glass. There’s also a fireplace and oversize armchairs for reading. The television is in here as well; this is where Hollis and Matthew used to watch the Patriots games when they were here on autumn weekends.
Hollis sees Gigi standing in a far corner of the room holding a framed photograph.
“Oh, hey, sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was in here,” Hollis says. She feels a little… unsettled by Gigi’s presence in the library, though she isn’t sure why. Gigi has revealed herself to be a bookish person—she even persuaded Brooke to buy a novel—and the library is directly across from Gigi’s guest suite. Why wouldn’t she explore it? Hollis’s laptop is open on the antique escritoire, but what is Hollis hiding? Her recipes? Her online stalking of Jack?
Did something about the conversation on the beach change their dynamic? Maybe a bit, Hollis thinks. She needs to acknowledge that, despite how well Gigi fits in, she’s still a total stranger.
Gigi wonders why there are no photographs of Matthew anywhere in the house—it’s almost as though he never lived here. Gigi figures they’re hoarded in the master suite, but then she peeks in the library. There she sees a series of photographs lined up in silver frames, each engraved with the year, starting when Caroline was a little girl in 2007 and going all the way up to last summer. Every photo is of Hollis, Matthew, Caroline, and the dog (before Henny, there was a sleek Irish setter) on the beach in front of the house. Each shot was taken around sunset, so their faces are bathed in a rose-gold light.
Matthew, Gigi whispers to herself, picking up the last picture. She only knew the version of him that appears in this final photograph, where, to her eyes, he’s the most handsome. Had he been thinking of her then or had he been wholly consumed with this family tradition? Gigi wishes she knew what date the picture was taken so she could go back and check her schedule. Had she been in Sorrento, maybe, or Cap d’Antibes? She hopes she was, but even so, she would have been longing for him—more than he was longing for her, that much is now clear.
Gigi smiles at Hollis. “I hope it’s not an intrusion, me looking at these,” she says. A vessel in her forehead pulses.
“Not at all,” Hollis says. She reaches a hand out and touches the photograph Gigi is holding; Gigi notices Hollis’s diamond ring, her wedding band. “This was shot last summer. Laurie Richards took our portrait every year in the last week of August.”
Henrietta is now whining like a child. It’s Gigi who’s agitating her; the dog senses something. Pets are intuitive that way.
“Beautiful family,” Gigi murmurs.
Beautiful family, Hollis thinks.
Summers are the best season with Matthew. He arrives every Thursday evening and leaves Sunday evening, which gives them three full days together. They have a lovely routine: Thursday nights, Hollis cooks a meal at home so they can catch up on their weeks; Friday, Matthew goes to Hatch’s, gets his hair cut, and putters in the garden before settling by the pool to read his medical journals. Friday evenings, they go to the jazz-band dinner on the patio at the Field and Oar Club. Saturdays, Matthew paddleboards on Sesachacha Pond with Caroline. Sometimes Hollis can talk him into a bike ride (this happens roughly once a summer), and they grab sandwiches from Claudette’s. Saturday nights they go out—there are cocktail parties, benefits, places they’ve been invited to. If they drink too much, it’s on Saturday night; if they have sex, it’s either Saturday night or first thing Sunday morning. Sunday is sacredly lazy—Hollis makes omelets or blueberry pancakes, they read the paper, and eventually they make their way out to the beach for the afternoon. At four o’clock, Matthew will sigh and heave himself up from his chair and go inside to shower and get dressed. Hollis always packs him a picnic and drops him off to catch the seven o’clock ferry back to the mainland. There’s a kiss, a See you Thursday, have a good week.
This summer, though.
Something is wrong, but Hollis can’t put her finger on what. Matthew misses Memorial Day weekend because he’s giving a talk somewhere, Hollis doesn’t know where—Rome? Athens? She doesn’t care, she’s had it, why is he always agreeing to travel at the expense of family time? Hollis is left to unpack the car and open the house by herself. When Matthew finally shows up the first weekend in June, he and Hollis are at odds; Matthew refuses to do the things they’ve always done. For example, Hollis has made a Thursday dinner of ribs, corn bread, fresh coleslaw, but Matthew announces he wants to get lobsters from 167. Hollis says, “We can get lobsters tomorrow night, but tonight I’ve made dinner and we’re going to eat it.” She sounds like his mother and she hates it. Friday night, they get lobsters just like Matthew wants but this means Hollis has to move their dinner at the Field and Oar Club with the Gaspersons to Saturday night, and because the Field and Oar is having a dinner dance Saturday night, the Gaspersons invite them over to their house instead. Matthew declares he doesn’t want to go to the Gaspersons’ house, Kerri is okay but the husband torches all the food on the grill, Matthew would much rather stay home and have a peanut butter sandwich.