Secrets in Summer

But Mimi sadly told Darcy she wouldn’t be able to come to the wedding either. It was her legs, her stability, her balance. After their phone conversation, Darcy sat at her desk with her head in her hands, not thinking, and trying not to feel. It was Mimi’s rejection that hurt her most of all. She had really loved Mimi, and she’d thought Mimi had loved her.

A few days later, an insured box arrived for Darcy from Mimi. Inside was an antique tiara made of silver-plated brass with one small diamond—Darcy had gasped when she realized it was a real diamond—set in the flower that rose above the other small silver flowers in the middle.

I wore this to my wedding, Mimi wrote on the enclosed card. I hope it brings you as much joy as I had in my married life.

Darcy cried so hard her shoulders shook.

She was more cautious and less optimistic when she called her mother and her relatives in Chicago to tell them about Nash. They all congratulated her and wished her well, but regretted that they wouldn’t be able to attend the wedding. Her mother texted Darcy a message: Better luck this time.

She cheered up when Jordan and Beverly told her they’d appointed themselves in charge of the Dress. This required a three-day trip to New York, where Edith Simon, the library’s director, had friends who ran a posh wedding boutique. Jordan and Beverly had a dog in the race, as the men liked to put it, because they were going to be matron of honor and bridesmaid and wanted to find something sexy and not magenta. Darcy was overwhelmed by the range of bridal costumes, as if this was the day the bride got to dress like her fantasy. She tried on ruffled, sashed dresses in the Scarlett O’Hara mode and dropped-waist Art Deco beaded flapper dresses in the Great Gatsby style. Little Bo Peep. Vegas showgirl. Seventies’ flower child. Finally, she found the perfect dress. Because this was her second marriage, she didn’t want to wear white. Instead, she chose a very simple silk gown of creamy, glossy ivory, with long sleeves, a plunging neckline and back, and a small train. No beads, no embroidery. The price was exorbitant, because the cut of the gown was so elegant. It had to fit perfectly, and it did.

“It’s a bit King Edward and Wallis Simpson,” Jordan said.

“Good,” Darcy replied, “because I want Nash to remain as gaga over me as Edward was over Wallis.”

“Also,” Beverly said, “I think anything embroidered or beaded would be over-the-top if you’re going to wear the tiara.”

Time blurred. Darcy and Nash, with Jordan’s calming assistance, took care of the five thousand details necessary for a simple wedding and a brilliant reception. Jordan threw a bridal shower for Darcy, complete with silly hats and ridiculous games. Lyle hosted a bachelor party for Nash, with whiskey and steaks and, Darcy was happy to learn, without strippers. Willow and Justin arrived, holding hands constantly and exchanging meaningful looks. Justin was a tall, skinny, silent boy. Willow had the same bounteous body her mother had and wore long loose shirts to camouflage her figure as she fluttered around the house. Justin hardly spoke and Willow talked incessantly. Willow glowed and danced, and Justin seemed like the string steadying the bright, flippy kite that was Willow.

Suddenly Darcy and Nash were in the church, and a moment later, it seemed, they were married and standing in a receiving line at the reception. Darcy laughed through the toasts before the sit-down dinner of scallops and filet mignon, and drank a glass of water for every glass of champagne, and floated on air when Nash pulled her into his arms for the first dance of the evening.

Later, as Darcy was leaning over the table to pick up a glass of water, she looked out at the dance floor, and everything seemed to freeze, as if, for a moment, time stood still.

She saw Nash dancing with his mother. Jordan danced with Lyle, the two of them giving each other such intimate looks Darcy bet there would be another baby conceived that night. Beth O’Malley, who had conducted the women’s chorus, was in what looked like a deep and serious conversation with Juan, the Dominican carpenter on Nash’s crew. It was likely that Beth had found a new member of the church choir. Beverly Maison laughed at something Nash’s father was saying. Edith Simon, the director of the library, was dancing with her eight-year-old daughter, both of them wearing frilly lavender dresses. Karl Ledbetter, the contractor who headed up the crew Nash worked for, was in the corner of the room, chatting up beautiful Dee-Dee Folger, obviously not aware of Dee-Dee’s husband sitting at a table giving their new daughter a bottle. Dee-Dee looked mischievous; Darcy knew Dee-Dee was having fun flirting after so many months of pregnancy. Several of the local mothers who faithfully and with gratitude brought their children to story time were at one table with their husbands, laughing and looking ravishing in silk and stilettos. Eileen McFee, who had helped Penny in the garden until her death, sat next to her husband, completely focused on the wedding cake on her plate. Marlene deCosta, the real estate agent who had so gamely shown Darcy and Nash the houses they never bought, was chatting up Grace Pindell, the head of the library’s board of trustees. Katherine Gibson, the town clerk, was whispering something to Ward Sullivan, the head of the board of selectmen, and Sarah Stover, Darcy’s lawyer and the town’s counsel. Willow and Justin were sneaking sips of champagne from Darcy and Nash’s glasses and Amy Tyrer was walking toward them with a determined frown. She spoke to the teenagers, who quickly put down the glasses and returned to the dance floor.

So many people, Darcy thought. They had seventy guests, so many clever, bright, funny, adorable people. She allowed herself a brief moment to miss those not here—her parents, the Chicago relatives, and Susan Brueckner and Mimi. Yet deep in her soul she knew they were part of it all. The love she was given as a baby and child still sustained her as a grown, married woman. The lessons she’d learned from last summer’s summer neighbors were with her still, twining like climbing roses around her heart. She might never see Susan, Willow, and Mimi again, but they had changed her life, and in that way they remained with her always. She smiled when she thought of them.

How fortunate she was.

Tonight she and her husband would leave for their honeymoon in London. In two weeks they would return to their jobs on Nantucket.

That summer Nash would begin building a swing set in their backyard, complete with a swing for the baby.





To Tricia Patterson

with admiration

and heaps and heaps of love





acknowledgments


Nancy Thayer's books