Page 107 of 28 Summers
Mallory would like to hang up. “Jeremiah, hey there. This is a surprise. Are you—”
“A licensed broker? Yes, I am, have been for years,” he says.
“That’s wonderful,” Mallory says. She knew that Jeremiah had supervised a historically sensitive renovation of his parents’ home on Orange Street and she maybe knew that he’d then gone into real estate, but she is nonetheless surprised—and dismayed—to have Jeremiah on the phone right now. Even all these years later, she still feels mortified about that ride out to Gibbs Pond.
She loves living on an island and being part of a small community, and she also hates it.
“Is there something I can help you with?” Jeremiah asks.
What should she say? She can’t ask about Desdemona. It’s twenty-five thousand dollars a week and she’s a schoolteacher. And what possible excuse would she give for renting it? A family reunion? She has exactly one family member left aside from her child and that’s Cooper. She should never have called. Why did she call? How is she going to get off the phone with Jeremiah?
“I’m calling for a friend,” Mallory says, then she cringes because this soundssofishy. “They’re looking for a one- or two-bedroom rental over Labor Day weekend. Preferably on the water. And not too expensive. Do you have anything available?”
Jeremiah laughs. “I don’t have a single thing.”
“Right,” Mallory says. She had held out a tiny hope that maybe there was a separate listing sheet for locals and that Jeremiah, recalling Mallory’s kindness toward him so long ago—because ithadbeen kindness—would share it with her. “Okay, I’ll tell them they’re out of luck, then. Thanks, Jeremiah.”
“You’re welcome,” Jeremiah says. “Take care.”
(Jeremiah hangs up, then stares at the phone. He actuallydoeshave something out in Madaket, right on the beach at the entrance to Smith Point, that would be perfect for two people. He considers calling Miss Blessing back and offering it to her, but he stops himself. He loved her so much once upon a time. When she invited him to spend lunch at Gibbs Pond during the darkest days of his senior year, he thought his prayers had been answered. The whole drive out to the pond, he’d thought about kissing her. But when they’d gotten stuck in the mud, she’d been flustered and short-tempered with him. She had treated him poorly, sending him out to the road for help like she was the queen and he her footman, and then, once they got back to school and everyone was talking about them—Jeremiah’s not going to lie, he found this exhilarating—she became frosty. She stopped reading his poetry; she stopped recommending books. She’d been extra-critical on his final assignments and he’d ended the class with an A minus instead of the A he deserved. No, he will not tell her about the cottage on the beach in Madaket, sorry.)
The conversation with Jeremiah Freehold seems to be a sign from above that renting Desdemona is a rotten idea. Even if Mallory were okay with spending twenty-five grand on a weekend rental, Jake would be aghast. If given the choice, he would pick theGreta.
Okay, she’ll put him on theGreta.He won’t be able to shower, he’ll return to Washington with a salt crust, but oh well.
The night after all this deliberating takes place, Link comes home just before his midnight curfew and Mallory is, embarrassingly, scrolling through real estate listings—at everywherebutGrey Lady Real Estate—on her laptop, looking for something available over Labor Day weekend that is less expensive than Desdemona.
Why is everything booked? Why is Nantucket so popular? Well, she knows why.
“Mom,” Link says, sitting down across from her at the harvest table. “Don’t say no.”
“To what?”
“Just promise me you’ll hear me out before saying no.”
“You’re not going to Italy,” Mallory says.
“That’s not what I was going to ask,” Link says.
“Okay.” Mallory closes out her tabs and shuts her laptop. “Shoot.”
“Nicole leaves on Monday, September fourth,” Link says. “Her flight is out of JFK and she and her mom are spending the weekend, Labor Day weekend, in New York City so they can shop for clothes and stuff for Nicole’s trip and they asked me to go with them.”
Mallory’s heart is on a trampoline doing flips. “Theyasked? Terri is okay with this? She doesn’t want a weekend of mother-daughter time?”
“She’s the one who suggested it,” Link says. “I guess she has some friend, a guy she visits in New York every year, who she wants to see, and so she’s even giving Nicole and me money so we can have a real date night.”
“I’llgive you money for date night,” Mallory says. Her thoughts are whizzing around like moths at a porch light. Terri has a friend in New York she sees every year. She has a Same Time Next Year too, maybe? And her Same Time Next Year is saving Mallory’s? Is that possible?
“So I can go?” Link says.
“Yes, you can go,” Mallory says. “Tell Terri I’m paying for all your expenses. She shouldn’t have to spend a dime.”
Link collapses back in his chair. “Thank you, Mama.”
“You’re welcome, my sweet prince.”
Link’s eyes fill. “I don’t want her to go.”
