The Five-Star Weekend

Yes, Caroline thinks. Aneurysm in the shower. Hollis was twenty-one months old.

“Tom Shaw was left taking care of this baby girl by himself. My mom, Laura Leigh, helped. Tom would drop Hollis off at our house on his way to work. So in my earliest memories, Hollis is there. She had her own toothbrush at my house, an extra pair of pajamas. My mother made the cupcakes for Hollis’s birthday, and whenever Hollis got sick, my mom was the one to come pick her up.” Tatum pauses. “In fourth grade, we had this thing called Mother’s Day Tea. We had to write poems for our mothers and read them in front of the class, and then there’d be a party with cookies and juice. I remember Hollis raising her hand and asking what she should do since she didn’t have a mother. For a second, I thought our teacher was going to cry. But then I whispered in Hollis’s ear that we could share my mother. And that’s what we did. We were like sisters.”

Caroline needs to take a beat. “Um, okay… wow. And you two stayed close friends all through high school?”

“Oh, hell yes,” Tatum says. She studies Caroline. How can she make this child understand the way things were between her and Hollis in the 1980s?





It’s their junior year. Tatum and Hollis—and Kyle and Jack—are high-school royalty. Kyle and Jack play football; Tatum and Hollis play softball. The four of them go to bonfires at Gibbs Pond, just like generations of Nantucket High School students before them. They eat their Saturday breakfasts at the Downyflake; they see movies at the Dreamland, then go to Vincent’s for pizza. Tatum loses her virginity first, then Hollis.

There’s one tense week when Tatum thinks she might be pregnant. She can’t buy an EPT because those are sold only at the pharmacy and Tatum’s father is the pharmacist. Tatum and Hollis plan a shopping trip to Hyannis—two hours over on the ferry, two hours back, a whole Saturday squandered so they can go to Kmart to buy a test. Tatum pees on the stick right there in the store’s bathroom with Hollis guarding the door. “What are you going to do if you are?” Hollis asks. Tatum says, “My mom will take care of the baby while I finish senior year.”

Hollis is quiet then and Tatum senses her dismay. “What about college?” Hollis says.

But before Tatum can answer that there’s no way she’s getting rid of or giving away her and Kyle’s baby, the three minutes are up and no second line has appeared.

Negative.

They celebrate by getting Orange Juliuses at the food court. Tatum feels a dizzying relief but she also realizes, maybe for the first time, that she and Hollis are becoming two distinct individuals.

The summer before senior year, Tatum and Hollis wait tables at the Rope Walk, where they wear the god-awful Nantucket Reds skirts that are so short the girls can’t bend over without flashing the customers; the owner claims this is “good for business.” Every night some rich dude passes Tatum a coaster with his number or the name of his yacht and a note, variations on Come join us for a nightcap! Tatum never considers saying yes, but Hollis is all for it. She wants to drink Dom Pérignon and dollop the caviar onto the blini with the mother-of-pearl spoon. She, unlike Tatum, is fascinated by wealth and privilege; she wants access to the world beyond Nantucket.


Tatum tells Caroline all this, even the part about her suspected pregnancy, which only Hollis and Kyle know about. “The definition of best friend is the person who guards the door of the Kmart bathroom while you’re peeing on the stick and never tells a soul.” Caroline nods eagerly, and Tatum thinks she’s probably gotten all the “historical context” she can handle.

A secret even bigger than the pregnancy scare was what happened during the state championship softball game their senior year.

“Senior year, things were different,” Tatum says. “The four of us—your mom, me, Kyle, and Jack—decided we would all go to UMass Amherst together. But then one day, out of the blue, Hollis tells us that our senior English teacher, Ms. Fox, said her college essay was the best she’d read in thirty-one years of teaching.” Tatum remembers this like it was yesterday: They were in the school parking lot sharing a cigarette; the leaves on the big oak at the corner of Sparks and Surfside had just started to change color.


“She wants me to expand the list of colleges I’m applying to,” Hollis says. “She thinks I should apply to UNC, which is where she went. UNC is the oldest public university in the country, I guess?”

“Ms. Fox wants you to go to her alma mater?” Tatum responds. “Isn’t that precious.”

“It’s in a place called the Research Triangle,” Hollis says, shrugging. “She says she can picture me there.”

Tatum is flummoxed by this. They all make fun of Ms. Fox. She dresses like a Quaker woman from the 1800s—long black skirts, prim collared blouses. Is that how Hollis wants to end up? “But you’re still applying to just UMass?”

“I might apply to UNC too,” Hollis says. “But I’ll definitely go to UMass.” She pauses. “My dad can’t really afford anything but UMass.”

Tatum relaxes; she’s pretty sure this is true. Hollis is just applying to the other school as a game, to see if she gets in.

College letters arrive in the mail on April 15. Tatum, Kyle, Jack, and Hollis all get accepted to UMass, and by lunch the next day, the whole school knows it. But as Tatum and Hollis are hanging in the hallway—Tatum wondering if they should room together, Hollis saying it’s too soon to think about that, Tatum saying, “It might make sense if we didn’t room together, that way you’d have a roommate and so would I, so we’d meet new people and could build a little empire”—Ms. Fox comes over (wearing a high-collared navy-blue dress that skims the floor) and gives Hollis a hug. “You got into UNC!” she says. “With a full scholarship. I’m so proud of you!”

Hollis is subdued; Tatum is shocked. “Yeah,” Hollis says. “Thanks. I still have to talk to my dad about it, obviously.”

When Ms. Fox leaves, Tatum turns to Hollis. Now she knows why Hollis thought it was too soon to talk about rooming together. “UNC?” she says. “Why didn’t you tell me you got in?”

Hollis takes a breath. “I don’t know, Tay. Because it doesn’t matter?”

“Because you’re not going there, right?”

“Right,” Hollis says quietly. “My dad will never let me. It’s, like, a twelve-hour drive from Hyannis.”

Tatum is equal parts terrified and pissed off. Who cares if UNC is the oldest public university in the country? Why would Hollis want to go to a school twelve hours away where she doesn’t know anyone? The only answer Tatum can come up with is that Hollis wants to get away—from the island and everyone who lives here. Including Tatum.

Final decisions about college have to be made by May 1, which is the same day as the state championship softball game.

Tatum decides to bring it up on their way to the game, probably because the game is being played in Amherst. “You sent your deposit in to UMass, right?” she asks Hollis.

Hollis stares out the window at Route 32. “Tay,” she says.

“What?” Tatum says, though she knows what. Hollis has decided on UNC. Tatum feels all her dreams of her and Kyle and Jack and Hollis kicking through autumn leaves on the Quad hit the sticky, gross floor of the bus with a splat.

Hollis starts to cry and Tatum says, “Why are you crying, Holly? You’re the one who’s doing this.”

“I know,” Hollis says. “But…”

But what? Tatum thinks. She feels so duped, so dumped, that she decides to do the unthinkable.

Tatum bats cleanup; her season batting average is .322, the best not only on the team but in their division, but she strikes out at her first two at-bats and then pops up, all on purpose. In the final inning, Nantucket is up by one run and a girl from the Amherst team named Miranda Coffey goes to bat. She’s got a platinum flattop like Brigitte Nielsen and a cold eye; she’s going to wallop the ball no matter how unhittable Hollis’s slider is. As if scripted, Miranda sends a deep one to left field, and honestly, it’s nothing Tatum can’t handle. She sees the runner on second shooting for third, and thinks, Nantucket High girls softball, state champs two years in a row, that’s what she and Hollis have dreamed of since they were little kids hitting a Wiffle Ball off a tee. But then, a lot of things Tatum and Hollis dreamed of aren’t coming true. Hollis is going to the University of North Carolina. Hollis turns around on the mound; she’s watching Tatum, and for one second, Tatum meets her eyes in a look of sheer fury and thinks, How could you? And she catches the ball but lets it drop from her glove. The runners score and Amherst wins.

If Tatum is going to be heartbroken, then Hollis will be as well.