Page 97 of Golden Girl
Marissa does come back, her nose pink and her eyes moist, and Dixie appears like someone heaven sent to take their order, so no one has to ask Marissa if she’s okay.
Willa needs air, so after she asks for the Statler chicken and Rip requests the sirloin, medium (he’s been ordering this for dinner at the club since he was five years old and can’t be persuaded to try anything new, but Willa views this as a sign of his innate loyalty), Willa says, “We’re walking to the water. Be right back.”
“I’m coming with you,” Carson says.
“Stay put,” JP directs, and Leo feels his airway constrict because he wanted to go with Willa and Rip too. The atmosphere at the table is stifling.
Willa and Rip stroll hand in hand over the clipped green lawn, past the flagpole and the cannon—shot off each night at sunset—to the water’s edge. Willa has a vision of them a year from now at this same dinner, only they’ll be parents. Right? This pregnancy is going to thrive. It has to.
“I ordered wine because—”
“I know why,” Rip says. “It was a good idea.”
“Drink some of it for me when we go back.”
“I will,” Rip says. They gaze across the harbor, listening to the piano music coming from inside the clubhouse—“Falling in Love Again”—and admiring the soft blue and gold sky, the sailboats bobbing on the water.
“I miss her,” Willa says.
“I know.”
“It’s fun to have Savannah here,” Willa says. “But do you think there’s something going on between her and my dad?”
“Would that be so bad?”
“I just can’t wrap my mind around it,” Willa says. “Savannah belonged to my mother.”
“I’ll point out the obvious,” Rip says. “People don’t belong to other people.”
“Tell that to Marissa,” Willa says.
Marissa,Rip thinks. She’s having a tough night and it’s about to get tougher. Rip has some bad news about the claim her mother is trying to file with Marissa’s Jeep.
They turn around and walk back to the table. Rip waves to someone over Willa’s head. When she turns, she sees Pamela and Zach on the tennis court.
“That’s nice. Your sister and Zach are playing tennis together,” Willa says, the wheels in her mind turning.
“I’m sure she’s eating him alive,” Rip says. “He has no serve.”
Willa and Rip have just returned to their seats when the bartender appears at the table.
“I just wanted to say congratulations,” he says.
“Why, thank you,” Lucinda says.
The bartender looks confused. “I mean, because I saw thatGolden Girlwent to number one on theNew York Timesbestseller list.” He seems to be speaking specifically to Carson. “You must be proud.”
Carson is impressed. Marshall brushed up on his bestsellersandhe had the guts to approach Lucinda’s table unsolicited.
“We’re so proud,” Carson says. “Thank you for acknowledging it.”
“I don’t know what the young man is talking about,” Lucinda says.
“Oh, you do so, Lucy,” Penny Rosen says. “We went over this on Sunday. Vivi’s new book went to number one.”
Marshall hovers at Carson’s place. “I went to the Oystercatcher to see you last night. Must have been your night off?”
Carson can’t let him go any further. She hasn’t told anyone in her family that she’s been fired, and now, over two weeks later, no one has asked, not even Leo, who lives with her. The only person who paid attention to Carson’s comings and goings is dead.
