How does it feel for Teresa to see Huck with his granddaughter and Ayers and the Invisible Man’s widow and two sons? (Because we all know who they are by now; they aren’t quite locals—that will take years—but neither are they strictly tourists.) Well, Teresa isn’t hurt or jealous. What passed between Huck and Teresa was half a dozen years ago. If Teresa had to pick a word, she would say that she’s surprised—not just by Huck and Irene cozied up together but by the whole situation. The people at the table are talking and laughing and singing along to Josephine and sucking down drinks and debating whether or not to start ordering food from the lunch menu now that they’ve finished breakfast.
They look happy, Teresa thinks. They look like a real live happy family. Ellen
Has anyone out there tried to plan a weeklong vacation for four women who are all single mothers of young children? That’s what Ellen, the ringleader of Baker’s Houston school wives, is trying to do. Simply finding a mutually agreeable week requires both a flowchart and a deep reserve of patience. Becky has full custody of her girls all summer while her ex-husband fishes for salmon in Alaska. She calls on her mother to stay with the girls, but her mother decides she wants to go to Branson during the week they’ve tentatively picked. Three of Debbie’s four kids are with her ex all summer, but her son Teddy is with her because he has sports camps in Houston, though he can maybe stay with his buddy Campbell for the week. (Ellen knows Campbell’s mother, Tish—stick up her ass. Poor Teddy.) Wendy’s ex-husband, Ian, will take the kids “as a favor” (can parenting your own children ever be called a “favor”?), but he has to work such long hours and travel so often that she has to find a sitter anyway. Ellen has recently hired a full-time au pair from Thailand named Za; she is still learning English and still learning to drive, so this week will give new meaning to the phrase trial by fire. But Ellen’s bar is low—“Just keep him alive” is her parenting motto. She promised herself when she became a single mother by choice at the age of forty that she would not act like a typical older parent. She would neither coddle Walter nor shield him, and she wouldn’t insist on organic milk and produce. Ellen grew up on frozen waffles, Cheetos, and ice cream sandwiches—Walter can too.
Ellen has known her school-mom friends for over five years, ever since she had Walter, but in planning the trip, she discovers new things about them. Becky prefers to roll without a set plan while she’s on vacation because her usual life is so regimented. (Ellen gets this, in principle, but she must have a plan at all times. If she went on vacation without a plan, she might miss something!) Debbie is a tough negotiator and enjoys herself more when she thinks she’s getting a bargain. (Ellen just pays the asking price for things, like an idiot.) Wendy is very concerned about exercise. (Ellen is concerned with breakfast, lunch, happy hour—preferably with snacks—and dinner.)
Ellen learns something new about herself as well: she loves to take credit for everything.
They end up picking August 29 to September 5, Thursday to Thursday, because the one thing they all agree on is that there’s no experience more soul-destroying than traveling on the weekend.
They fly United. Ellen would like to upgrade to first class but Debbie feels the best value is in premium economy. Then Wendy announces that her ex, Ian, has donated his miles so they can all fly first class. They immediately forgive Ian for his “as a favor” comment.
Ellen has booked two beachfront suites at Caneel Bay—one room for herself and Debbie, one for Becky and Wendy. She rents a four-door Jeep Wrangler hardtop, though Baker has warned her against ever taking the top off. It rains every day for fifteen minutes in the summer.
Baker! They will finally be reunited with their school husband, Baker. They will get to experience St. John, the island he now calls home.
“More important,” Debbie says, “we’ll get to meet the girl.”
“She has no idea what she’s in for with us,” Becky says.
“We have to be nice,” Wendy says. “She’s pregnant.”
Ellen obviously wants to meet the mysterious Ayers Wilson but she also wants them to have at least one night with Baker alone so they can find out what’s really going on.
Not to toot her own horn, but Ellen’s planning pays off. The trip down is smooth, their luggage is the first off the carousel, they get into a shared taxi that delivers them to Red Hook with just enough time for one rum punch before the ferry. When they disembark in Cruz Bay, they can’t stop talking about the color of the water. It’s pure Crayola turquoise, clear to the white sandy bottom. It’s the most beautiful water any of them have ever seen. (They’re used to the chocolate-milk-hued water of Galveston, and Debbie, the only East Coast transplant, grew up going to the Jersey Shore, which looked nothing like this.)
Caneel Bay is the epitome of old-school gracious hospitality. It’s elegant. It smells like coconut lotion, frangipani, and money.
Their rooms are side by side in a one-story row that sits on a pure white crescent of sand. Each room has two mahogany queen beds sheathed in crisp white linens, marble bathrooms with soaking tubs, ice waiting in a silver bucket, rattan ceiling fans. The rooms have deep front porches with wicker furniture for lounging around with coffee or a cocktail. Beckoning out front are four chaises wrapped in rose-and-white-striped terry cloth. A server stands in
