Page 8 of Seven Summer Weekends

Margot lost her virginity to her on-again, off-again boyfriend, Stanley Sacks, in the back seat of his Ford Torino. One month later, she discovered she was pregnant. Two months later, Margot and Stanley were married in the rabbi’s study. And by the time the baby was born, they had moved into a small split ranch in Valley Stream, Long Island.

Gicky took the railroad out to see Margot in her new home and painted her first-ever mural on the ceiling of the nursery as a gift for the new baby. She visited a couple of times after the baby was born, but Margot didn’t remember her visiting after that. What she remembered was how the two women, who had stayed up all night on childhood sleepovers simply because they had too much to say, spent that last visit navigating awkward silences. While Gicky regurgitated the words of activists like Abbie Hoffman and Gloria Steinem, Margot was busy quoting the famed pediatrician Dr.Spock. She even had photographic evidence of the disconnect—a picture taken in the driveway of herhouse. Margot was dressed in a knee-length skirt and matching blouse, her hand resting on the baby carriage. Gicky wore bell-bottoms and a halter, and her hand was raised above her head in a peace sign. Margot carried the photo with her always.

The two old friends had drifted apart quickly after that, until one Sunday in the early aughts, when fate placed them across the aisle from each other at a matinee ofWicked. They locked eyes shortly before Idina Menzel and Kristin Chenoweth’s final duet, “For Good.” During the curtain call, they met in the middle and clung to each other. No words were necessary. The two divas onstage had said it well enough when they crooned, “Because I knew you / Because I knew you / I have been changed / For good.”

Their reunion brought a staunch promise never to let so much time pass between them again. Even though they were around fifty then, there was plenty of time left to get reacquainted. At their core, they were still the same two girls playing ring-a-levio on a Bronx sidewalk. After that, Margot began visiting Gicky every summer, first with Stan, and when he passed away, for longer stints on her own.

Margot was with Gicky in her last days at hospice, feeding her ice chips and playing sixties music on her phone. They had already spoken ad nauseam about Gicky’s estate. Leaving the house to Addison gave Gicky peace—making it the obvious choice in the end. And though Gicky never said it, Margot knew that in her heart, the thought of her brother’s daughter living there went a long way to healing the rift between the siblings. Gicky wanted to add a stipulation that Margot be allowed to continue her weeklong summer visits, but Margot declined. Thiswould be her last trip, she thought. It would be too hard to be there without Gicky.

Standing on Gicky’s front stoop now, she pulled the picture of the two of them from her purse and spoke right to the image of her hippie friend as if she were there.

“I’ll tell her all about you,” she said, “just like I promised.”

She looked at the photo one more time, put it back in her purse, and knocked on her best friend’s front door.

Chapter Six

Addison threw on her robe, gave her hair a quick shake, and opened the front door to find a smiling woman who looked to be around her aunt’s age.

“Addison?” she asked familiarly.

“Yes,” Addison answered, with an air of caution.

“Wow, strong genes,” the woman observed, staring deeply into her eyes. Addison couldn’t help but blink.

“I’m Margot,” the gray-haired woman said, pushing the door open with her hip and wheeling in her bag. “Gicky sent me.” She sat down on the couch and took a deep,that was a long walk from the ferrytype of breath.

Her air of familiarity was unnerving. Addison immediately leaned out, acting more like the proprietor of a bed-and-breakfast than an interested party. She grabbed the handle of the woman’s wheelie bag and said, “It’s nice to meet you, Margot. Let me show you to your room.”

Margot stood and followed.

The guest cottage was clean and already stocked witheverything on Gicky’s list except for the fresh flowers and cold water. Addison would pick those up while the woman settled in and then spend the rest of the weekend, aside from the daily awkward breakfast ritual, avoiding her.

As with all of her best-laid plans lately, this one soon went awry.

“Yoo-hoo,” Margot called out, with a light rap on the back screen door. “Can I come in?”

She looked quite adorable, in that old-lady way, in a black-and-white-polka-dot swim dress and an enormous sun hat. The hat must have been a recent purchase, because Margot’s skin was tanned to a shade between saddle andI’ve never heard of sunblock. Addison pictured her covered in baby oil, sitting with a reflector somewhere, like Miami, or at one of those famous old beach clubs on the south shore of Long Island.

“Want to hit the sand?” she asked. “Take a dip in the ocean?”

Addison was more of a lake girl. The waves scared her. She had never been in deeper than her ankles.

“I have errands to run in town,” she said, thinking fast. Since she had to board up that doggie door, she would go to the hardware store and get supplies. At least she hoped there was a hardware store.

“Nonsense,” Margot said. “Your errands can wait. We have so much to talk about.”

The horror movie scenario ran through her head again, sending a shiver up her spine.

You can take her, Addison thought while giving all five feet nothing of Margot the once-over.

“Do we?” she said with a cautious smile.

“Yes. I told you; your aunt Gicky sent me. You know, toexplain things. There is a lot more involved than what it says in the letter she left you.”

Answers!

“I’ll only be a minute!” Addison exclaimed before hightailing it to her bedroom to change for the beach.

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