Page 22 of Nantucket Gala

But just then, one of the airport staff bustled over and directed them away from the airport. They needed space for other vehicles. They needed to get moving. Julia put the windshield wipers on full blast.

“I booked us a couple of hotel rooms,” Julia explained. “The ferries are canceled the rest of the night because of the weather. I hope that’s okay?”

Henry laughed. “It’s more than okay. What an adventure.”

“You’re telling me. I’m just so glad you could land. I was panicked, thinking they’d turn around and head back west.”

About two hours later, Henry and Julia found themselves at the hotel restaurant, poring over menus and sipping glasses of wine. Both of them had put on nicer clothes—a blouse and slacksfor Julia, a button-down and jeans for Henry. Julia had added lip gloss. As Henry studied her, he was suddenly cast back to that day nearly three years ago when his father, Jackson, had announced he was leaving Julia for a job in China. Shortly after that, Julia went to Nantucket Island and changed the course of their family history forever.

Sometimes it still bothered Henry that his parents had gotten divorced. He’d wanted to believe in their love as a beautiful and singular love.

The fact that Julia had always been in love with her high school boyfriend was troubling. What else were people hiding in plain sight?

I saw my mother nearly every day for eighteen years, he thought now.And it never occurred to me that she didn’t fully love my father.

“I’m going for the burger,” Julia said. “I’m starving.”

Henry laughed.

“Steak for you?” Julia asked.

“Am I so obvious?”

“I’m just glad you haven’t changed too much out there,” Julia said, squatting at him. “You look skinnier. Are you eating enough?”

“There’s a taco truck right by my apartment,” he said.

“But you’re working too hard,” Julia said. “Hollywood eats you alive. It’s even worse than the publishing industry. Maybe?”

Henry raised his shoulders. “I think it’s all pretty difficult to crack.”

“I’ve told you before. You can work for the publishing house.”

“And I told you I want to try to make it on my own.” Henry smiled.

Julia rolled her eyes into a smile of her own. “I raised you to be too self-sufficient. What did I do wrong?”

The server came to take their orders. They handed over their menus, then sat wordlessly for a moment, studying each other.

“How’s Charlie?” Henry asked.

“He’s great,” Julia said, dropping his gaze. “You know, you can stay with us. If you want.”

“I already told Grandma I’d be at The Copperfield House.”

“Are you staying on the family side or the artist side?”

“Family,” Henry said. “Grandma says the artist residency is full right now.”

“It’s off to the races,” Julia affirmed. “Tons of people arrived in early January. I haven’t even met them yet. But your grandfather owes me chapters for his next book. I hope he isn’t wasting too much time lording over his new artists. Ah, but it keeps him young. I know that.” Julia waved her hand.

“Do you still go over there often?”

“I have an office there,” Julia reminded him. “It means you’ll see me every day you’re home, whether you like it or not!”

There it was again—that word “home.”

They talked about Julia’s publishing house, about her life with her new husband, about Anna’s baby and her boyfriend, about Rachel back at the University of Michigan.

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