Page 21 of The Identicals
Her phone rings, and she thinks:Reed.He loves her; of this she is certain. She felt it most keenly in the parking lot. It was more than sex. It was love. Would it be naive of Harper to believe that Reed might leave Sadie for Harper? Reed and Sadie don’t have children—they don’t even have a dog—so what reason would there be for Reed to stay?
But when Harper checks her display, she sees that the person calling is Tabitha. Harper groans. Nothing from the woman in fourteen years, and now she’s blowing Harper up. What are the chances that Pony is calling to check on Harper, see how she’s doing, ask if there is anything she can do to help? What are the chances that Tabitha is calling for any reason other than to thank Harper for mucking up her own life so badly that Tabitha became a victim?
Zero chance, Harper decides. She lets the call go to voice mail.
TABITHA
She hopes things will get better once they leave the golf club and are on their way home, but instead things get worse. Once the taxi driver—who doesn’t know where he’s going and nearly gets into three separate wrecks—delivers them to the ferry, Tabitha and Ainsley go to the office to exchange their tickets so they can take the earlier boat, and Eleanor wanders away like a person with Alzheimer’s.
They find Eleanor sidled up to the bar at Coop DeVille, where she has ordered a glass of champagne (Tabitha assumes that at this establishment, it’s prosecco) and is telling the buxom young bartender, Carmen, that she is Billy Frost’s widow.
“I knew Billy well,” Carmen says. “He came in here all the time. That was his usual stool over there.” She points to an empty stool at the far end of the bar, farthest from the dock and closest to the TV.
“Well, then,” Eleanor says. “That is where I shall sit.”
Ainsley nudges Tabitha. “Grammie is drunk.”
Apparently so,Tabitha thinks. Her mother holds her liquor better than anyone Tabitha has ever known, but champagne has always been her Achilles’ heel. She loves it, but it gets her blotto. Tabitha only saw her drink one glass, maybe two, at the reception, but Eleanor is sneaky and may have consumed as many as four or five glasses, making this her sixth glass.
“Mother, we have to go,” Tabitha says. “The ferry is leaving.”
“You have twelve minutes,” Carmen says. But even so, she writes out a tab. Five dollars.
Cheap prosecco,Tabitha thinks.
Eleanor continues to drink on the boat. The Hy-Line has upped its food and beverage game over the past couple of years. All the soups and sandwiches are made from scratch, and one can even get a decent-looking cheese-and-fruit platter as well as good wine by the glass or bottle.
“They serve Veuve Clicquot!” Eleanor announces from her place in line.
“Mother, please don’t,” Tabitha says. She nudges Ainsley. “Can you encourage your grandmother to drink water?”
“I’m not doing your dirty work for you, Tabitha,” Ainsley says. “I hate you.”
“Youhateme? Really?”
“You think because Grammie ruined your life that now it’s your job to ruin my life,” Ainsley says. “Aunt Harper was smart. She went with Gramps. I’m thinking about going to live with Dad for the summer.”
Tabitha nearly says,He doesn’t want you.But that is cruel, primarily because it’s true. Wyatt has remarried, sired three sons, ages ten, seven, and four, and lives with his wife, Becky, in a gracious home overlooking Craigville Beach, on the Cape. Becky has a problem with Ainsley. She hates her for no apparent reason other than petty jealousy. She doesn’t want Ainsley around the boys, and Wyatt does little in the way of championing his daughter. When he has painting jobs on Nantucket, he will take Ainsley to lunch or dinner. But he never invites Ainsley to the Cape, not even for the weekend.
“Okay,” Tabitha says neutrally.
Eleanor sits down next to Tabitha, sips her champagne, then starts to cry. “Your father is gone,” she says. “He’s dead.”
Ainsley leans forward. “Did you love him, Grammie?” She seems genuinely interested.
“With all my heart,” Eleanor says. “I met your grandfather on December 22, 1967. He was my cousin Rhonda’s date to my parents’ annual Christmas party at the country club. Rhonda showed up stoned, and my parents made her leave.” Eleanor closes her eyes, and Ainsley can feel her transporting herself to another time, back when people went to parties in horse-drawn carriages. “Your grandfather stayed, and we danced all night.”
“That sounds romantic,” Ainsley says.
“And you know who else I love?” Eleanor says. “Your aunt Harper. I’ve missed her desperately.”
“Really?” Ainsley says, delighted.
“No,” Tabitha says. “That’s the champagne talking.”
Eleanor reaches across Tabitha to lay a hand on Ainsley’s knee. “Here’s the secret to all human relationships,” she says. “We humans want what we don’t have. Harper went with Billy, and I’ve longed for her ever since.”
“Mother!” Tabitha says. “That is simply not true.”
