Page 4 of The Summer Club

Andi groaned inwardly. The last thing she wanted to do was get back in the car right away. “Isn’t this supposed to be the start of my vacation?”

Hugh was already in the driveway starting his Jeep. Sydney trotted down the stairs and held out a bright pink binder, the word “Wedding” written across its burgeoning cover in silvery script. “Found it!” she announced.

Outside in the driveway came the honk of a horn.

“I need those clams,” her mother said again.

Only Martin eyed her with sympathy.

Andi tipped her glass back and grabbed her purse. Who was she kidding? This was family vacation.

The Chatham Fish Market was a regular stop for vacation dinners. Now in the passenger seat of Hugh’s Jeep, Andi stretched her legs out and tipped her head back, letting the wind whip her hair about. The wine was working its happy magic, settling into her limbs. For once, it was nice to have someone else figure out dinner. Do the driving. Maybe this wasn’t so bad.

“So how the hell are you?” Hugh shouted over the wind.

Andi smiled. “Better, now. It’s good to see you.”

Hugh reached over and smacked her knee as they turned down the main drag into the village center. “You, too. You look good, kid.”

The fish market lot was packed, and they had to stand in a long, hot line outside. Every now and then a flush-faced woman wearing an apron and a severe expression swung the screen door ajar to shout “Next!” Andi couldn’t wait to be allowed into the air-conditioned recess of the store. They were positively melting on the sidewalk.

“So how have you guys been? Martin looks happy to be back on the Cape. The guy’s a saint.”

It was hard to read his expression behind his Ray-Bans, but Hugh’s mouth tightened. “It’s good we have a vacation.”

“Everything okay?”

The line started to move, and Hugh didn’t answer right away. When they got to the door, he took his time reading the blackboard specials. Andi wondered if he’d heard her question when he finally turned to her. His voice was so low she had to lean in to be sure she’d heard correctly. “Martin wants a baby.”

“Oh.” Such big news.

For all the endless chatter they engaged in, the Darlings had always been tight-lipped when it came to personal matters. It was one of the reasons Andi had taken so long to tell any of them about her divorce last year. They just weren’t good with vulnerability. She studied her brother. “And you don’t?”

Hugh shrugged. “I used to think I did. But here I am in my midforties. I like to travel. To entertain. To go to a late show in the city and sleep in. I worry at this age I’m too set in my ways. That I won’t be good at it.”

“How so?”

“Kids seem so specific. Cut the crust off the sandwich. Peel the skin off the apple. The chicken has to be shaped into dinosaur nuggets. It’s exhausting.”

Andi raised her eyebrows. “Wow. Have you been babysitting on the side?”

“Friends of ours have kids. It seems like most of them do, lately.”

“Ah. So you’ve had a chance to get a good look.”

Hugh narrowed his eyes. “It’s not pretty.”

She smiled. “Sure as hell isn’t.” And one thing was certain about Hugh: he liked pretty things.

Hugh and Martin lived well and lived out loud; picturing them with juice boxes strewn about the floor of the Range Rover or their cashmere sweaters covered in spit-up was not easy to do. “It’s a big deal,” she allowed. “Didn’t you guys talk about this before you got married?”

“Sure. It was something we both left up in the air, a maybe someday. Neither of us was dying to open the door. Neither wanted to close it.”

“And now Martin wants to open that door.”

Hugh looked at his flip-flops. “Wide open.”

At that moment the screen door swung ajar. The woman in the apron glared at them. “Hurry up, we’re not getting any younger.”