It takes Eddie about half a second to realize that he and Allegra are the only ones at the party wearing costumes. Eddie first sees their error in the faces of Mitzi and Bart, who are standing at the entrance to the party greeting the guests. When Mitzi sees Eddie and Allegra, her mouth falls open, then she quickly transitions to a smile. Bart cocks an eyebrow. Eddie feels humiliated, primarily on Allegra’s behalf. He has only dressed as himself. Allegra, on the other hand, looks like she stepped out of Shōgun. Eddie decides he will offer to run Allegra right home so that she can change, but he turns to see her shuffling in tiny steps toward Bart and then executing a deep bow with her hands at prayer in front of her chest.
“Happy birthday,” she says when she rises. Then she holds out a hand. “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m Allegra Pancik. I was a freshman when you were a senior.”
“I think I do remember you,” Bart says. “And that’s a dynamite outfit. But you know this isn’t a costume party, right?”
“Right,” Allegra says. “However, I always dress up on Halloween.”
Eddie is extremely impressed by the confidence of this answer. Hope may be at Bucknell paving a golden road into her future, but Hope would not be able to finesse a situation as awkward as this and work it to her advantage. Of the twins, Allegra has been blessed with the superior survival skills.
“Come with me, Allegra,” Bart says. “I’ll show you where the bar is.”
They disappear inside before Eddie can remind Allegra that she’s only nineteen years old and also that Ed Kapenash, chief of police, will likely be in attendance tonight. Eddie sighs, then offers his hand to Mitzi. “Sorry, we thought it was a costume party.”
Mitzi says, “I wanted a costume party, but Bart put his foot down.”
“Well, I came dressed as myself, or my former self, but I doubt anyone will notice,” Eddie says.
“I’d like to meet with you before the end of the week about that thing we discussed,” Mitzi says. “Are you free Friday?”
“I have clients coming from off-island to look at houses on Friday,” Eddie says. “How about Thursday?”
“Thursday works for me,” Mitzi says.
“Okay, let’s say Thursday at ten. I’ll come to you, we can do a walk-through and write up a listing sheet. We’ll get you your asking price, I promise.”
Mitzi opens her mouth to speak, but she clams up when Kelley rolls over in a wheelchair pushed by a woman with a stethoscope around her neck and a blood pressure cuff hanging out of her jacket pocket. Costume? Eddie wonders. He takes one look at Kelley and decides the answer is no. That’s a real nurse. Kelley’s complexion is gray, his face is gaunt and sunken; he has a patch over one eye.
But when Kelley sees Eddie, the corners of his mouth turn up. “Eddie,” he says. “Welcome.”
Eddie is rendered speechless. He knew Kelley was sick, of course, but Kelley doesn’t look like he’ll last until tomorrow.
However, Eddie is good at nothing so much as ignoring unpleasant realities, especially those right in front of him, and so Eddie reaches out to shake Kelley’s hand as though everything is just fine, as though Kelley has merely come dressed as someone in a wheelchair—FDR, or Tom Cruise in Born on the Fourth of July.
“Kelley,” Eddie says. “Looking good, man!”
Kelley barely nods. His hand, in Eddie’s, feels like a bunch of brittle sticks. Eddie isn’t sure what else to say. He won’t mention the sale of the inn because clearly it’s a measure Mitzi is taking after Kelley’s death.
“Sounds like a great party already,” Eddie says.
“Go in and get yourself a drink!” Mitzi suggests.
“Yes,” Eddie says. “Yes, I think I’ll do that.”
Eddie weaves and wends his way through the crowd toward the bar. There are some faces he recognizes from the Quinn family—he sees one of the Quinn sons with a pretty blond woman, then he sees the Quinn daughter. Once upon a time, she was the girls’ music teacher. Eddie sees the woman, Kai, who owns the new crystal store in town; she used to be Eddie’s neighbor out in Wauwinet. He sees Chief Kapenash with his wife, Andrea. The chief has been friendly since Eddie’s release—he calls every once in a while to “check in”—but now Ed just raises his glass in front of his face, as if to say, Don’t come over here. And really, can Eddie blame him? The last thing the chief wants is to be seen talking to a convicted felon, the most renowned criminal Nantucket has seen in recent history.
Standing at the bar in front of Eddie is Hunter Bloch Sr., which makes Eddie wonder where Allegra has gotten to. He scans the party. He doesn’t see a geisha girl or anyone else in costume. Eddie can’t help but feel miffed and misled. If you’re throwing a party on Halloween and it’s not a costume party, this should be explicitly mentioned. No costumes. Eddie realizes he’s still wearing his Panama hat, but he’s hesitant to take it off because what if he loses it? God knows they aren’t cheap.
Hunter Bloch Sr. turns around holding two cocktails—million bucks says he’s come to the party with his broker Rosemary Whelden. He’s always seen in public with Rosemary, never his wife, Kathleen. All of Nantucket seems to accept this without comment. How is it, Eddie wonders, that some people can get away with whatever they want?
Hunter gives Eddie the once-over. “Linen suit, Eddie? Don’t you know it’s almost November?”
Eddie won’t bite. So he’s unseasonal—sue him. “Heard your son stepped out on my daughter,” Eddie says. “Allegra is taking it pretty hard.”
“Is she?” Hunter Bloch Sr. says. “She can’t be taking it too hard, because I just saw her following the guest of honor out the side door, and they had a bottle of tequila with them.” Hunter Bloch Sr. winks at Eddie, a gesture Eddie finds patronizing. “She’ll bounce back. Like father, like daughter. Now, I’ve got to go deliver this drink.”
“Yes,” Eddie says. “Give Rosemary my best.”
Eddie shakes his head. Why was he so anxious to attend this party? He doesn’t like anyone here. And if what Hunter Bloch Sr. says is true, then Eddie has just lost his date. Eddie wonders if he should try to find Allegra. Maybe he should just call her.
He does neither. It’s his turn at the bar finally. He’ll order a drink.
“Vodka martini, please,” Eddie says.
As the bartender is shaking it up, Eddie feels a poke-poke-poke in his left shoulder. He turns and barely stifles a groan. It’s Rachel McMann.
“Hey, Rachel,” Eddie says. Rachel McMann is a social butterfly. She must know nearly everyone here, so why is she bothering to talk to Eddie? “Happy Halloween.” He’s surprised that Rachel didn’t come in costume. He can easily picture her dressed as Carmen Miranda, with a big basket of fruit on her head.