Page 34 of The Summer Club
“I’m sorry! But how would you feel if the roles were reversed?”
“Good question.” Sydney leaned across the table. “Since you ask, what would you do, Andi? What if Riptide went to you instead of me?”
Andi had considered this, of course. At first, deep with envy, she’d fantasized that it had been her who’d gotten the house. Her own beach house! To enjoy with Molly forevermore. Or turn into an income property. Or both! And, in a less selfish moment, she’d wondered how she’d handle the family dynamics if that were true. “I’d talk to the family instead of acting like nothing happened. I’d ask them how they felt about it and what their wishes were. Not that I’d be bound to honor any of them, because the house would technically be mine, but fostering goodwill and extending some trust would be where I like to think I’d start.”
“And I haven’t done that?”
“Syd, you haven’t done anything. Or said anything. Except about wedding plans.”
“Because I’m getting married!” Sydney burst into tears and raced for the stairs.
Andi rested her head on the table and willed the words of her marriage therapist into her mind. He hadn’t been able to save her marriage, but there were a few takeaways she’d hung on to. Like a gratitude exercise she at first loathed, but now liked: “When things get tough, think of all the ‘at leasts’ you have going for you. Focus on gratitude for the positives.” It was something Andi had initially rolled her eyes at, because it seemed so simple and yet was so hard to do. But now she tried.
At least Molly was still asleep and didn’t overhear the argument.
At least Hugh hadn’t been there. Would likely have been louder. And uglier.
At least George and his insipid girlfriend, Camilla, weren’t coming that day for Molly.
At least she’d finally had a little bit of fun last night. Thanks to Nate.
Her mind screeched to a halt there. Nate Becker had given them all a night of reprieve; even though he had no idea what was going on with her family, they’d managed to get through one meal without a battle. Nate had been gracious, bearing oysters and wine. Steering their conversation to the safe harbor of their shared Cape Cod childhood summers. And he’d been funnier than she remembered. Much funnier, in fact. Andi appreciated a sense of humor; it showed intelligence and an ability to not take yourself too seriously. Two things she valued after the last ugly year of her divorce.
Not that her ex, George, was arrogant or dumb. But oh, the stupid things he’d done that year. Leaping into a new relationship straight out of the separation. Dragging all three of them into the craziness of his new “true life partner,” Camilla. It was already so hard to navigate their new normal between two houses and shared custody and the growing pains of co-parenting. And here he was, throwing another person—with her own staunch set of ideas and expectations of her place—into the pot.
She looked at the clock: 10:15. There was still time to shower and rouse Molly again before the florist appointment, assuming Syd had calmed down and would still let them come with her. At least she wouldn’t say no to Molly. There—another “at least”!
“So how did the roses smell?” It was midday, the florist appointment safely behind them, but from the looks of it Hugh was still nursing a hangover from the night before. He was one with his beach chair, legs akimbo, one arm draped across his forehead. The other held a giant Yeti tumbler of something iced.
Andi bent and sniffed the lid. “That is water, yes?”
“Shut up.”
Andi smiled. “Just checking.” She plopped her beach chair in the sand between Hugh and Martin. The beach was busy, the flawless weather pulling the tourists from their vacation rentals. “The flowers had no scent. Syd went with hydrangea centerpieces, not roses.”
Martin nodded approvingly. “Hydrangeas. Very coastal New England.”
Hugh frowned. “Where is the bride-to-be? I’d look, but my head hurts too much to lift.”
“Safely ensconced in her room talking to James about the bouquets and arrangements we chose.”
“Poor bastard.” Hugh lowered his sunglasses. “Though he does have a new beach house to console him.”
Martin stood and peeled off his shirt. “You two are awful. I’m going for a swim. Anyone want to come?”
The twins shook their head in unison.
“Martin’s right. You’re going to have to stop doing that,” Andi told Hugh. “I had a conversation with her this morning about it and it did not go well.”
Hugh lowered his shades. “Oh? Well, my morning wasn’t so swell either. Between packing all my childhood belongings from the family beach house to make room for James’s crap and searching the internet for my real father, am I supposed to feel bad for her?”
Andi glared at him. She knew the former was a joke, but she wasn’t so sure about the latter. “Are you seriously looking for our birth father?”
“No. Not really. But I think we should. Don’t you?”
Andi did not. “No. Dad is our dad, just as he said. He’s been there since the beginning. And let’s remember, our so-called real father has wanted nothing to do with us. He knows we exist and yet he’s never once reached out.”
“So you’re not even curious?”