As they walk toward the truck, arms still around each other, they see Chappy and Evan hop out of the cab as if they’re ushers prepared to shepherd them on.
“We’re ready,” Cissy says. “No need to get out.”
“Hey.” Chappy takes her hand. “Come here.”
He escorts Cissy away from Bess and Evan.
“I want to say good-bye, too,” Bess hears him say.
Chappy and her mother walk to the edge of the cliff. Bess can’t hear their words but detects that labored breathing that accompanies a rush of tears. Maybe Cissy isn’t done with the crying after all.
“What’s the plan?” Evan asks, pressing his mouth into a hard line. “Airport first?”
His own eyes water.
“That makes the most sense,” Bess says. “Since it’s on the way. I appreciate the ride.”
“Bess, don’t even…”
“Especially since my other option is Cissy and her bike,” Bess tries to joke.
Evan looks at her.
“No matter what,” he says, “I’ll come get you. Any time. All you have to do is call and I’ll be right there.”
Bess understands he’s not referring only to the airport.
“You’re going to be completely annoyed by how much I take you up on that,” she says, and means it.
“I’ll count on it.”
“You know I love you, right?” Bess asks.
“I know.”
“And you know that I have to leave,” she says. “I don’t want to but it’s not really a choice. Not right now.”
“I know.”
“There are things I have to take care of. Real-world stuff. I can’t just…”
“I know.”
“But I’ll find my way back. Somehow, in some way that will be more than it was before.”
He doesn’t answer. I know, he’s said. Does he know? He doesn’t. But he hopes.
“All right, you two,” Chappy calls, tramping back toward the car, Cissy trailing after him. “Bess and Cissy, you gals need a final picture at the old homestead.”
“Some homestead,” Cissy says, trying to catch her breath.
Chappy holds up his phone.
“Let’s do this,” he says. “You’ll hate yourself if you don’t.”
“Do you even know how to work that?” Evan asks.
“It’s a damned phone, not a nuclear code. Cissy. Bess. Get together. One last photo taken at the head of Sankaty Bluff.”
The women trade looks and shrug. Why not?
Cissy and Bess sock in together and unleash their biggest smiles as the wind whips up the sand and shells around them. In between takes they comment on the weather. It’s a glorious afternoon, they agree. Finally and at last. Mark it in the Book of Summer: the first clear day.
Author’s Note
This book is based on the real-life erosion of the Sankaty Bluff in Siasconset (known as Sconset), the easternmost spot on Nantucket Island. I’ve tried to stick closely to the facts and complexities of the erosion problem, and even the weather that’s caused it, but as this is a work of fiction, I’ve tinkered with timelines and details for the sake of plot.
I first learned of the problem from an article in Vanity Fair about the gorgeous, grand homes, many passed down between generations, now falling into the sea. Though Cliff House bears the fictitious address of 101 Baxter Road, it is very loosely based on Bluff House, formerly located at 87 Baxter Road. In my mind, Cliff House is an amplified amalgam of Bluff House and the property located (for now) at number 93. These homes, real and imagined, sit high up on the Sankaty Bluff, yards away from the iconic Sankaty Head Lighthouse, which itself had to be moved owing to the faltering cliffside. Like Cissy Codman, several owners evaluated the possibility of moving their homes before finally succumbing to the inevitable.
As in the book, Sankaty lost over thirty feet of bluff during the 2012–13 winter storms. Town officials considered closing Baxter Road for good, until lawyers pointed out that they couldn’t simply shut down roads or the utilities running along them. Geotubes, like the ones Cissy Codman fought so hard for, were installed in late 2013, after the Siasconset Beach Preservation Fund (SBPF), fictionalized here as the Sankaty Bluff Preservation Fund, finally gained approval from the Massachusetts Department of Environmental Protection.
These geotubes, large, sand-filled jute bags that look like burritos (as described by Evan Mayhew), are meant to keep the existing bluff intact. They are used in conjunction with a sand-replenishment program to prevent harm to neighboring beaches. According to the SBPF, as of late 2015, the time of this writing, no further erosion has occurred, thanks to these measures. The tubes currently cover about 900 feet of bluff, whereas the SBPF hopes to address the estimated 3,400 feet that are at risk.
You can learn more about the erosion, and what folks are doing to combat it, from the fund’s Web site at www.sconsetbeach.org. Of course, as with all prickly topics, not everyone agrees that the geotubes have performed as promised. Those who oppose such measures say that the geotubes won’t halt erosion and will instead siphon sand from the neighboring beaches and ultimately the entire island.
Van Lieu Photography has documented the erosion in memorable and evocative detail at www.vanlieuphotography.com and www.nantucketerosion.com. I’ve included my own (amateur) photographs on my Web site at www.michellegable.com and on Pinterest at www.pinterest.com/mgablewriter/bookofsummer. I’ll leave the reader to decide which side he or she is on.
Acknowledgments
The idea for this book began with an article in Vanity Fair: “Coast to Toast” by Vanessa Grigoriadis. So, first and foremost, I want to thank other writers and researchers for opening my eyes and inspiring my work, not only in this instance, but in a thousand other ways.
Thank you to my agent, Barbara Poelle, the first person to believe in me, and the person who still has my back, even when I don’t realize it. A million thanks (at least) to my outstanding editor, Laurie Chittenden, for forcing me to dig deeper and always finding a fix for any problem. Thank you also to Lisa Bonvissuto for all that you do!
I’m so lucky to be a part of the St. Martin’s team. My covers and interior pages somehow keep getting better—thank you to Young Lim and Anna Gorovoy for wrapping this story in the loveliest of packages.
Heaps of gratitude to the world’s hardest-working, smartest, and kindest publicist, Katie Bassel, and the crack marketing team, especially Laura Clark and Lauren Friedlander. Thank you also to Sally Richardson and Pete Wolverton for your support, and to Sally for her contributions to this book.