Ari pretended she was fascinated by her family’s conversation. A moment later, she saw Michelle walking toward their table.
“Don’t get up,” Michelle said, but of course Ari’s father and uncle rose politely while Ari introduced them. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” Michelle said. “Ari, we’re having a party at our house next Saturday evening. I hope you can come.”
“I’d love that,” Ari said. “Thanks.”
As Michelle walked away, Ari’s mother said, “How nice.”
Ari rolled her eyes.
In the afternoon, they headed back to Eleanor’s house. Ari’s parents and uncle got ready to leave. After their dinner in town Friday night, the waiter had handed Eleanor a bag containing the rest of the chocolate cake. While the others bustled around packing up, Eleanor sat at the kitchen table, dividing up small triangles and slipping them into plastic bags.
“Honestly, Mother, I don’t need to take that home,” Alicia said.
“I’ll eat whatever’s left!” Ari announced, throwing herself down at the table and grabbing a fork.
“We’ve just had lunch!” her mother objected.
Feeling mischievous, Ari said, “I’ll call this my English tea.”
“Oh, you,” her mother said, which was what she always said when she couldn’t come back with an appropriate response.
An emotion like love, but also like pity, swept through Ari. Alicia looked tired, older and duller than usual. Her father looked tired, too, but he always did. Uncle Cliff, on the other hand, looked like he’d just slapped his face with an upmarket men’s cologne.
“You people are so slow,” Uncle Cliff moaned. “I’ve got to make my plane.”
Ari’s father stood up. “He’s right, Eleanor. We need to go.”
In an awkward bundle of hugging and saying goodbye, Ari’s mother, father, and uncle went out the door and got into their cars.
Ari and Eleanor stood on the front porch, waving. It was very quiet when the other three were gone.
“Well, they’re off!” Eleanor threw her arms high in the air. She wore a loose cotton sundress and sneakers. “We can relax! I’m going for a nice long walk. Ari, you’re free to do whatever you want except go with me. I’m up to my chin in togetherness and need some time alone.”
“I’ve got some texts and emails from friends I want to answer,” Ari said. Also, she thought, she might just take a nap. She had to work tomorrow.
Six
Monday, after Ari took off for her first day of work, Eleanor drove into town to exchange books at the library. She went to the grocery store and the liquor store. Then, when her tide chart indicated the tide was at its lowest, she drove to the Jetties Beach parking lot, put on her waders, and tromped through the sand down to the water’s edge. The jetties made a calm channel for boats entering Nantucket harbor. They were made of boulders and rocks stacked together like walls. Sometimes the tide was so high they covered everything but the top bit of the rocks. Sometimes the tide was so low a person could walk a few yards out into the water, and Eleanor knew of a special place past the third boulder where mussels gathered in colonies, clamped onto the rocks, ready to be picked.
There they were, waiting for her. Elongated and ebony-shelled, the mollusks clung together with streams of brilliant green seaweed flowing from them like mermaid hair. Eleanor took hold of a few and tugged and laughed when she found resistance. She had read up on mollusks and knew they did not feel pain or anxiety (although how had the scientists done that experiment?), so she felt no guilt wresting them away from the boulder and carefully placing them in her bucket. She didn’t want the shells to break. Ari loved mussels, and it would be fun to present her with this treat for dinner tonight.
Water washed around her waders as she gathered the mussels. The tide was coming in. With her bucket almost full and the sun warm on her shoulders, she sloshed back up onto the beach and over the crunchy sand to her Range Rover.
She listened to 97.7 ACK FM as she drove home. It was important to keep up with the island news, plus she enjoyed hearing familiar voices talking about town events. A new play. The Select Board’s report, every week during the off-season, every other week in the summer. She was especially pleased that in the past few years the policy-making group of the island had changed its name from the Board of Selectmen to the Select Board, indicating that it was not a completely male assembly. About time.
Back at her house, she unpacked her groceries, setting her bucket of mussels on a shelf in the refrigerator. She needed a few more things, so she set off walking to the Sconset Market, one of the most charming and old-fashioned establishments on the island. They sold everything a person needed for a perfect summer day: ice cream cones and delicate chocolate pastries, tote bags and tees, gourmet crackers and cheese, sunscreen, postcards, and paperback books. Near the shop, beneath the shade of several trees, were benches and bike racks.
Eleanor bought a fresh baguette for soaking up the liquid of the mussel broth, which she would steam with garlic and white wine. Outside, she settled onto a bench with a paper cup of ice cream and let her thoughts roam. She was glad Ari had chosen not to marry Peter, and she was sorry that Alicia was so angry about it all. Status was so important
