How could she leave on July fifth and never see him again? Impossible.
Deciding she should get out of the house and do something productive, she walked to the post office to mail the postcard she’d bought for Fran. By the time it reached her, Rachel would be home already, but she sent it because she thought it would be a nice gesture. That, and because on some level, she wanted to prompt her mother into showing some interest in what was going on in her life.
Dear Fran:
Provincetown is beautiful and eccentric. Sand, surf, yoga, seafood, and plenty of outdoor drinking. It’s your type of place. I thought you’d be happy to see where donor dad is from.
Love, Rachel
A block from the house, she spotted Kelly, wearing sunglasses and a faded baseball hat with a fish on it. She looked at the ground as she walked.
Rachel called out to her. Startled, Kelly stopped short.
“Oh, hi, Rachel. What’s going on?”
“Not much. But Amelia was just looking for you.”
“Thanks,” Kelly said. Then: “I’m sorry. I’m distracted. Did you say what Amelia needed?”
“I think she wanted you to know that her daughter just showed up.”
Rachel could have sworn Kelly paled under her freckles.
Blythe couldn’t believe it. Nadine, the sister Nick had spoken about with such affection. The sister he’d left Philadelphia to visit, never to return. Here.
It was the closest she’d felt to seeing Nick again. And this feeling helped answer one of the questions she’d been grappling with, the question of whether she should tell the truth to Amelia.
She would do it. And it was the first step toward telling Marin the truth, if she was ever going to be able to actually go through with that.
When would be the right time to talk to Amelia? She pondered this for a full five minutes, pacing the floor in her bedroom. Then she realized there was no right time—the time was now.
On her way down the stairs, she heard movement on the floor above. Amelia must be in the studio with Kelly. Fine; she would tell them both at the same time. She backtracked and headed to the third floor but stopped midway down the hall when she heard their raised voices.
“Can’t she stay in one of the first-floor bedrooms? It’s awkward having her right next door to the studio. It’s just…”
“It was her old bedroom. Kel, I really need you with me on this. Try to be happy for me.”
“I am happy for you. I just don’t want any negative energy around here. Not now.”
“The energy isn’t negative. Why would she bother coming here to be negative? It’s a turning point. The one I’ve been waiting for all these years. And I really need you to be less cynical.”
“I’m not being cynical! She shows up after thirty years of demonizing us, of punishing you, and I don’t get to say, Hey, let’s just make sure there are boundaries here?”
“She wasn’t punishing me. She was hurt. We hurt her.”
“She didn’t tell you Nick was gone until after the funeral. She buried him on another continent. That’s not punitive? Frankly, I don’t understand why you don’t have a little more anger of your own.”
“You don’t understand because you’re not a mother.”
“Oh, I have nothing to contribute to this conversation because I’m not a mother?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Blythe turned at the sound of movement behind her.
“Mom? What are you doing out here? Eavesdropping?” Marin said, hands on her hips.
“No, I was just…never mind. What are you doing up here?”
“I’m helping Kelly with a project.”
“What kind of project?”
“Forget it. Don’t say anything.”
“Why would I say anything?”
“I don’t know. Why would you be standing in the hall listening to their conversation? Clearly with nothing better to do, you’re turning into a busybody.”
“Marin, I’ve had about enough of your attitude. You’re upset—I get that. I can’t change the past, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to be punished for it for the rest of my life!” She was surprised to find herself choking up, tears in her eyes.
The door to the studio opened. Kelly and Amelia looked at them.
“Everything okay out here?” said Amelia.
“Just fine!” Blythe said before turning to run down the stairs.
Was there a more awkward family dinner imaginable?
Marin wanted to drink, but ever since the afternoon binge at the A-House, she couldn’t even look at a glass of wine. Across the table, her mother was getting good and hammered, and for the first time that week, Marin couldn’t blame her.
“So let me get this straight,” Nadine said. “Rachel, you knew that your father was a sperm donor, but you”—looking at Marin—“thought your mother’s husband was your father until last week.”
“That’s right,” Rachel chirped.
“And you found each other through a website?” She said the word website as if it were spaceship.
“Yes.”
Silence at the table.
Marin couldn’t believe this woman was her aunt. When Marin met Amelia, despite her feelings of betrayal and her sense of loss with her dad, she’d felt at least a warmth and connectedness. She was able to accept and embrace the woman as her relative. But this black-eyed shrew was pissing her off with all her questions. Or, more specifically, with the tone of her questions—as if this were all some dubious tale.
Amelia had cooked fish stew, apparently Nadine’s favorite.
“I’d love to learn how to make this,” Rachel said. “It’s just so good!”
“I’d be happy to share a few recipes,” said Amelia. “We Portuguese have such wonderful food traditions. I would be thrilled to introduce you to that part of your culture.”
“You know,” Nadine said, addressing the entire table, “the last time I had this meal, Kelly and I were best friends.”
Rachel and Blythe looked at her. Kelly stopped eating. Marin, knowing where this story might go, looked at Amelia, who subtly squeezed Kelly’s arm.
“Really? When’s the last time you saw each other?” said Rachel.
Nadine seemed about to say something but then thought better of it. Finally, she said simply, “A very long time ago.”
“Well, it’s great you’re here now.”
“That’s the thing about this town,” said Nadine. “People come, people go. Sometimes forever.”
“Thanks for that bit of philosophy,” Kelly said.
Amelia shot her a look.
“I totally get that,” Rachel said. “This is a really special place. So I was thinking, Amelia, if you didn’t mind—I’d love to stay for the summer.”
“What?” Marin and Blythe said in unison.
“Oh, Rachel, of course. That would be wonderful,” Amelia said.
Nadine narrowed her eyes. “You know, that’s not a bad idea. I think I’ll stay awhile myself.”
Crazy, all of them. Marin didn’t care what Rachel did—she was leaving after the Fourth, with or without her.
Chapter Twenty-Five