Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
June 2010 - Nantucket Island
R yan Lewis had always dreamed of his wedding day. Unlike other little boys—who, presumably, had imagined becoming basketball stars or pirates or race car drivers or whatever—Ryan had imagined a grand party, his beautiful wife, and a feast for the ages. He’d imagined himself old enough to make such an enormous decision, wiser and better able to fit in a respectable suit. He’d imagined living in the Sutton Estate, raising his children there, and becoming a proud and generous member of Nantucket society.
But now, as he sat with his new wife in their apartment only a few hours after they’d been named man and wife, Ryan was heavy with devastation. His grandfather had died at their reception. His mother had insulted his new wife’s family. His grandmother had suggested he was doing something he would regret one day. Everything had tumbled from a darkness he didn’t understand. And now, outside, a storm churned over the Nantucket Sound and splattered them with rain. The growling thunder seemed to suggest that nothing would ever be the same again.
Trisha was still wearing her wedding dress. Ryan was in a pair of boxers and an undershirt. He wanted to ask her to take her dress off; it was depressing him, and it looked uncomfortable. But he had the sense that she was trying to cling onto a joy she’d experienced only momentarily today. The joy wasn’t coming back. But he wouldn’t be the one to tell her that.
Trisha cracked a beer and sat on the floor with her big white skirt flung out around her. She looked like a tent. Sometimes she let out a sob, but mostly, she was quiet, watching television on mute with the subtitles on. It was a reality television show, one she liked to watch with her mother.
Although Ryan had seen Trisha watching that show many, many times, it occurred to him just how trashy that show really was. The minute he had the thought, he pushed it away. He didn’t want to acknowledge what his mother and grandmother really thought of Trisha. He didn’t want to ask himself if he did the right thing in marrying her.
It was true that when Ryan had first met Trisha, he hadn’t had marriage on his mind. They’d been on a sailing trip with friends, going up and down the coast and sleeping in random harbors, drinking a little too much, wearing little to no sunscreen and not caring at all about the future. Trisha was a friend of a friend and nobody he’d ever met before. He thought she was pretty, but he also thought all the other women on their trip were pretty. Another friend mentioned in passing that Trisha was related to “the Reeds,” and Ryan had had a flickering memory of seeing the trailers parked side-by-side near the grocery store. His grandmother had talked ill of them, saying they didn’t belong in a place like Nantucket. But Ryan hadn’t thought much of it at the time.
On the sailing trip, Trisha seemed just like the rest of them. She loved beer and wine; she could crack a lobster and a crab with a deftness that spoke of years on the coast; she laughed at all their jokes; and she sang all their favorite songs. Ryan remembered thinking, If I tell my grandmother I went on a trip with the Reed girl, she won’t let me forget it. She’ll tell me Suttons shouldn’t be seen with those folks . But what did that mean? At the time, Ryan was freshly graduated from university, where he’d gotten a degree in advertising and marketing. When Trisha found that out on the sailing trip, she said, “Great! You can sell more junk to people who don’t need it.”
Ryan laughed. “You’re right about that.” He liked how direct she was. It reminded him—hilariously—of his grandmother. He thought, If Grandma Dana ever meets Trisha, she’ll have real competition on her hands.
But Ryan didn’t fall for Trisha romantically till later on in the trip. A sudden storm ripped over them, tossing their boat on the waves. Ryan felt like a toy in God’s playhouse, apt to be destroyed. But Trisha wasn’t frightened in the least. She took charge, ordering Ryan’s wealthier and panicked Nantucket friends around the sailboat, telling them what to do and when to do it. It was because of Trisha that they found clearer waters and eventually dropped anchor and celebrated their survival.
That night, Ryan kissed her. He hadn’t kissed anyone but her since. He hadn’t wanted to. Not once.
Now, sprawled on the floor in front of the sofa, Trisha closed her eyes and draped her head over the cushions. Her neck was gleaming in the moonlight that came in through the apartment window. Ryan considered what he could say to her. But right now, his grandfather’s death on the day of their wedding felt like a bad omen. Maybe they should annul the marriage and try again in a year or so? Perhaps they should have eloped?
It was true that when Ryan had first told his mother he was going to ask Trisha to marry him, Jackie’s smile had looked false and made of playdough. “You have to do what makes you happy,” Jackie had offered.
Suddenly, the phone rang—the one still attached to the wall. Ryan’s family members hadn’t gotten into the habit of calling each other on their cell phones. Ryan got up to answer it and heard his mother talking quickly as though she had too much information to process and was throwing it out on him.
This was what Ryan gleaned:
His grandfather’s funeral would be held in four days. It was best that Ryan and Trisha postpone their honeymoon to Hawaii for the time being; maybe the family could help them go at a later time. Was it possible for Ryan to come to the Sutton Estate tomorrow? His grandmother wanted him to go through some of his grandfather’s clothes and things to see if he wanted them. It was all happening so fast.
“Where are you, Mom?” Ryan interrupted.
“What? I’m at the Estate.”
“You should go home. Get some sleep,” Ryan said.
“I can’t leave your grandmother,” Jackie said.
Ryan swallowed and turned to find that Trisha had abandoned the living room. Next, he heard the shower, and he imagined her scrubbing off all that wedding makeup, the wedding gown thrown across the bathroom tile.
Under his breath, he said, “Trisha is really upset.”
He wanted to ask his mother why she’d said all those heinous things about Rhonda. Why couldn’t she keep her opinion to herself? Why couldn’t his grandmother let him be happy? Why did the Suttons have to control everyone and everything?
For the first time in his life, he wondered why he’d always been so proud to be a Sutton.
“She’s upset?” Jackie blared. “Well, I’m very sorry for her.”
Ryan was suddenly furious. “It was our wedding day. It was supposed to be the happiest day of our lives.”
Jackie took a breath. Ryan knew she wasn’t in her right mind.
He tried to forgive her immediately. But his rage felt insurmountable.
“Mom,” he muttered, at a loss. “I’m just so sorry.” But saying this added still more fuel to his anger. Immediately, he felt shattered again. He felt as though he’d run a thousand miles through a desert. His mother gasped for breath.
Ryan asked, “Should I come over?” The question surprised him. He knew he couldn’t leave Trisha, not tonight.
He felt lost. Confused. Like a child rather than a man who’d just married his love.
“Oh, honey. No. Go to bed.” Jackie paused. “I love you.”
She hung up.
Ryan limped to their bedroom and splayed himself across the mattress. It took ages for Trisha to join him, wearing a towel wrapped tightly around her frame. She smelled of the same soap they always used, but everything else had changed. When she lay down, she curled away from him and showed him her back. Ryan wanted to touch her; he wanted to hold her close. But there was a divide between them.
Over the next several days, Ryan’s confusion grew more textured and strange. Because he was supposed to be off work for his honeymoon anyway, he threw himself into assisting his family with his grandfather’s funeral, going through his grandfather’s clothes, and talking to his grandmother about all her favorite stories. Dana was too proud to break down again, but there were shadows beneath her eyes and a ragged nature to her voice. It was difficult to reckon with the fact that his grandmother might never be the same again because she’d lost her life partner.
Will I feel that way if Trisha goes first? Ryan thought late one night as he drove back to their apartment.
Because of their “postponed” honeymoon, Trisha had taken additional shifts at the restaurant bar near the harbor. She looked as though she’d aged about five years since the wedding. She got home around ten thirty, said hello to Ryan without kissing him, and got immediately into the shower to wash the grease off. When she emerged, she wore one of Ryan’s big T-shirts and lay on the carpet in front of the sofa, watching television.
It was hard to believe they were supposed to be in Hawaii right now. In another reality, Ryan imagined them swimming through turquoise waters, seeing turtles swimming around underneath. He imagined them kissing and laughing on a California king. He imagined pink-and-purple sunsets with matching pink-and-purple cocktails.
It was hard to believe they’d ever have that honeymoon—not now that it had been taken away from them. Not now that Trisha knew exactly what Ryan’s mother and grandmother thought about her.
Later that night, as Trisha and Ryan got ready for bed, Ryan dared to ask, “Are you coming to the funeral tomorrow?”
Trisha looked startled. “What do you mean?”
Ryan sat on the bed, realizing he’d made a mistake. But what was it?
“Are you really asking me—your wife—if I’m coming to your grandfather’s funeral?”
Ryan bit his tongue and hung his head. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to assume.”
“Assume that I was your wife? Or assume I cared about your grandfather?”
Ryan flared his nostrils and got under the covers. After a very long time, Trisha got into bed, too. They remained side by side, staring into the darkness until Ryan dared to say, “I married you, you know. I married you because I love you. That didn’t go away.”
Trisha sighed and rolled over.
Ryan didn’t know what to say.
The following afternoon was his grandpa Jeremy’s funeral. Hours before it was set to begin, Ryan showered and dressed in a suit and met his mother and sister at the Sutton Estate. Trisha had agreed to work the lunch rush at the restaurant and head to the funeral afterward. Ryan decided not to share this information with his family and instead said, “Trisha got held up, but she’ll be here in time.”
Nobody seemed to care.
In fact, his grandma Dana said, “Oh? She’s coming after all?” as though everyone had assumed Trisha wouldn’t show her face.
“She’s my wife. She’s a part of this family,” Ryan said, looking his grandmother in the eye.
Dana’s gaze was steely. It seemed to ask, Are you really going to mess with me?
Jackie left the room and returned with a platter of sandwiches. “I want everyone to eat before we go,” she ordered.
Ryan’s father, Josh, grabbed two sandwiches and ate them in rapid succession. It looked a lot like stress-eating to Ryan. Ryan nibbled at the edge of his ham and cheese and listened as his mother talked logistics. In the next room, Robin was crying quietly to her husband. Ryan got up and intercepted Robin, hoping she could lend her insight into his Trisha situation. When they reached his grandfather’s old study, Ryan closed the door and crossed his arms.
“What is this about?” Robin asked, sniffling.
“It’s about how nobody wanted me to marry Trisha. It’s about how she doesn’t feel welcome in this family. It’s about…”
Robin pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes and moaned. Ryan remained quiet.
“Do you really think this is the most important issue at hand right now?” Robin asked.
Ryan recognized how selfish he was being. Robin had lost her grandfather. Robin was grieving. He folded his lips and added, “I just hope you’ll help me make Trisha feel welcome.”
Robin sighed. “You know I love Trisha. I didn’t say a thing against her. I told Grandma to calm down when she brought the issue up.”
Ryan’s curiosity piqued. “You did?”
“Sure. But you know Grandma. She’s stuck in her ways. And now that Grandpa’s gone? I can’t imagine she’ll do any soul-searching any time soon.”
Ryan knew his sister was right.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. It startled them both.
“Kids?” Jackie called. “We need to head to the funeral home.”
Maybe to add insult to injury, Trisha decided on purpose to be late to Grandpa Jeremy’s funeral. Perhaps she wanted to “stick it to the Suttons.” Ryan didn’t know. What he did know was that she slunk into the service a full eight minutes after the pastor had begun, muttering a quiet apology as she sat in the chair he’d saved for her. Ryan was too upset to look at her. When she took his hand, his remained limp.
The ceremony ended with a wake at the Sutton Estate. By some twist of fate, a few of the caterers had also been working at Ryan and Trisha’s wedding last weekend, which made Ryan feel uneasy. This time, they didn’t pass out glasses of champagne. This time, they wore black instead of forest green. This time, they didn’t smile or wish anyone well. They faded into the background, just as Grandma Dana wanted them to.
Ryan made the rounds, talking to as many of his grandfather’s friends as he could. Sometimes he spotted Trisha talking in the midst of Nantucket locals, but other times, he caught her off by herself, scrunched in a ball on the sofa and staring into space. He made up his mind that someday soon he would make it all up to her. But in order to do that, she had to play the game a little bit. Didn’t she?
When he passed through the crowd, he overheard his grandmother talking to a friend of hers, saying, “We’ve already looked into annulment and divorce lawyers. I recommended a very good lawyer out of Manhattan to Ryan. He’s living here for the summer. A brilliant career. He handled some high-profile cases.”
“It’s good Ryan has you,” Grandma Dana’s friend said.
This was a flat lie, and it left Ryan breathless. From a distance, he watched his grandmother, hoping to catch her eye. She appeared to be glowing, as though her lies fueled her and made her ageless. Ryan’s hands were in fists.
But suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Robin. Her eyes echoed compassion. She’d overheard, too.
“Just let her talk,” Robin muttered. “She just lost Grandpa.”
Ryan swallowed the lump in his throat and told himself his sister was right. When a caterer came by, he grabbed a glass of wine and drank it too quickly, overwhelmed by the crowd and the ache in his heart. He was slowly coming to terms with the fact that his grandfather was never coming back.
Suddenly, he spotted Trisha in the corner, talking to none other than Grandma Dana.
Ryan’s heart stopped.
Trisha’s face was blotchy with tears. Grandma Dana looked as though she was having a field day. She looked as though she was throwing Trisha into the air and bouncing her around, like a cat to a mouse. Ryan bolted through the crowd to get to them, overhearing Grandma Dana’s final words. “And darling, that’s just the way things go. Pick yourself up. Leave the island. People like you don’t belong here. But there are plenty of places you belong.” There was kindness in Grandma Dana’s tone. It was like getting stabbed with a knife with a fuzzy pink handle.
Suddenly, Ryan was there beside Trisha, glaring at his grandmother.
“Ryan! So nice to see you. I’ve been so busy trying to talk to everyone, and I’m missing out on the people I love the most.” Grandma Dana’s smile was beautiful.
Beside Ryan, Trisha was shaking so hard that some water spilled from her glass.
Ryan felt foolish. He asked, “What are you two talking about?”
Trisha flared her nostrils and waited. Maybe—like Ryan—she was curious about what Grandma Dana would say next.
“Trisha and I were having ourselves an important chat,” Grandma Dana said. “Weren’t we, Trish?”
“You could say that,” Trisha said.
Ryan willed himself to say something. He willed himself to tell his grandmother to take a hike. But this was his grandfather’s funeral! This was the Sutton Estate!
“If you’ll excuse me,” Trisha said, cutting behind Ryan and disappearing through the crowd. It was almost as though she didn’t know Ryan at all.
Grandma Dana touched Ryan’s elbow gently. “Honey,” she said. “It isn’t too late to get out of that. But time is ticking. A year from now, we can all look back on this as a minor flub. A little error. But if you stay for too long? God forbid, if you have children with her?”
Ryan gaped at his grandmother. Tell her to leave you alone! he begged himself.
“Grandma?” His voice was meek. “Grandma, please leave her alone.”
Right then, he hated himself more than ever.
But he ran after Trisha. All he wanted was to wrap his arms around her and kiss her and ask for her forgiveness. All he wanted was to whisk them back to three years ago when they’d first met on that sailing expedition, and Ryan had seen the true magic of Trisha’s spirit.
Ryan spotted Trisha running out to her car. He bucked out the door and into the sweltering heat, whipping his suit jacket off as he called her name. “Trisha!”
Trisha paused in the mouth of her car door and gaped at him. She looked surprised.
“Wait up!” Ryan sped across the front lawn and through the driveway, where upward of thirty cars were parked. Trisha was all the way in the back as though she’d prepared herself to make a quick exit— out of my life, out of the Sutton family , Ryan thought.
“You don’t have to do this,” Trisha whispered when he got close enough. “You don’t have to be nice to me. We can pretend none of this ever happened.”
Ryan’s heart cracked open. At that moment, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He realized then that she’d removed her wedding band. Had she done it on her walk from the house to the car? Now, Trisha opened her left fist to show that both the engagement and wedding rings sat on her palm, glinting in the sun. Ryan thought maybe she was about to throw them.
“Trisha,” Ryan begged, “I know, okay? I know I haven’t been a good partner to you. I know it’s been a mess.”
Trisha’s shoulders dropped.
“We need to go on our honeymoon, Trisha. And I’ll make that happen just as soon as all of this is over,” Ryan said. “I’m brokenhearted about the death of my grandfather. I’m not saying or doing the right things.”
“Nobody wants me here,” Trisha whispered.
“I want you here,” Ryan declared. “I’ve always wanted you here.”
“You love your family. You respect your family.”
“You’re my family. I love and respect you,” Ryan said. “My grandma can be—well—old-fashioned. But you’ve always known that about her.” He stepped closer so that his nose was only a few inches from hers, and he could smell the soap they always used, the soap they shared because they didn’t have much money of their own. He took her hands in his and squeezed them lightly. “I want to be married to you. Do you want to be married to me?”
Trisha’s chin quivered. “Yes.”
They held each other’s gazes for a long time. It felt almost like getting married all over again.
Ryan was about to seal the deal with a kiss when Trisha changed everything.
“Ryan?”
“What is it?”
“I’m pregnant.”
Ryan felt his heart explode.
This is my family now. This is the only family I’ll ever need.