Page 52 of Nantucket Gala

“Maybe.” He swallowed. “Why did you come back?”

“I told you. I don’t like LA.”

“But you could have gone anywhere.”

“And I love Nantucket,” Madeline said. “I pictured myself spending a dreamy few months here, making big leaps forward with my—” She cut herself off.

“With your what?” Henry smiled flirtatiously. “Come on. I could just ask my grandmother what your medium is. Are you a painter? A musician? What?”

Madeline shook her head ever so slightly. “Not so fast, Henry Crawford.”

Henry laughed. This girl was something else.

The night continued. Aurora called the first performance to the stage, and Henry and Madeline parted ways, sitting with additional drinks to watch the scenes unfold. Frequently, Aurora performed for them, using her guitar to accompany herself as she shook her wild mane like Stevie Nicks in the seventies. Henry was already tipsy, but he didn’t care. Frequently, Sophia caught his eye over the table and said something like, “This is already going a lot better than last time!” Henry smiled and laughed, agreeing with her.

About two hours into the night, something out of the corner of Henry’s eye gave him pause. He turned back, nearly spilling his champagne, and caught sight of his mother. Julia lurked in the corner of the courtyard with her hands crossed over her chest, watching the stage. Unlike everyone else, she was dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a tank top. Henry popped to his feet, excusing himself. The sour expression on her face told him something was wrong.

“Mom?” Henry hurried over.

On stage, Aurora was telling a series of jokes about what it was like to live on Nantucket. The crowd roared with laughter.

When she realized Henry was approaching, Julia flinched with surprise. “Henry, hey. Thank goodness. I was trying to figure out how to get your attention without joining the party.”

Henry’s heart pounded. “Is everything okay? Is Rachel okay?” He wasn’t sure why his thoughts went immediately to his youngest sister, who was visiting her friends in New York.

Julia beckoned for him to follow. They went into the hotel, then sat in the corner of a shadowy bar. Only a few other patrons were there, including hotel guests. Most looked sunburnt and like they’d spent all day fighting with their families. Julia ordered herself a glass of wine and rubbed her hands on her thighs. Henry suddenly felt sober. He ordered a glass of water.

“What’s up, Mom?” He didn’t want to say it, but she was freaking him out. She looked just as she had the other night, when she’d asked if he’d finished Sophia’s memoir.

“Does this have something to do with Sophia’s—” he began.

Julia pressed her finger to her lips. “Let’s keep it down.”

Henry felt reprimanded by his own mother. He shivered.

“I reread the ending of the memoir last night,” Julia said in a near whisper. Her eyes found Henry’s. “There’s no easy way to say this. But not everything adds up.”

“What do you mean?” Henry’s heart lurched.

“That night at the Nantucket Gala,” Julia breathed. “I think she’s lying. But I can’t put my finger on why.”

Henry’s eyes widened. From where they sat, they could hear a local Nantucket band playing on stage, with Aurora on vocals.

“Maybe she was just trying to make the story sound more interesting?” Henry suggested. “Not everything has to be fact, you know? Especially when it comes to a memoir.”

Julia pressed the tips of her fingers to her forehead. “I just need you to read it and tell me what you think, Henry.”

Julia’s tone was harsh and deep. Henry leaned back in his chair and looked at his mother. A weight on his chest made it difficult to breathe.

“Something else happened that night,” Julia finished, looking down. “But Sophia’s keeping it from all of us. And I can’t figure out why.”

Soon after, Julia finished her glass of wine, paid, and fled, telling Henry she had no interest in the hypocrisy of the Nantucket Gala. Henry watched her go, feeling his stomach twist.

“Hey, stranger.”

He turned to find Madeline coming toward him. “Where have you been?” she asked.

Henry’s smile felt limp.

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