Chapter 17
Seventeen
Everyone wanted to ride to dinner in Theodore Roosevelt’s blue Bronco.
Nick was wearing a thrifted three-piece tweed suit with a red tie but had given his look a nineteenth-century spin by adding TR’s famous glasses.
They had two lenses, but they reminded me of a monocle because they didn’t have arms that extended behind the ears.
“The style is called pince-nez,” Nick—who’d also gelled his hair and shaved his stubble so that he had the shadow of a mustache—told Maisie.
She too had gone full Americana as Rosie the Riveter, wearing her favorite denim jumpsuit (ICON was tastefully bedazzled on the back) with her beloved black patent leather Doc Martens.
Her hair was tied up in one of Peggy’s red polka-dot cloth napkins.
“What’s so special about Nick’s car?” Luke-masquerading-as-Albert-Einstein asked. His white lab coat and wacky wig were hilarious, but his mustache kept falling off. “I have the better playlist!”
“Bryce and I will go with you, Luke,” Lilly Pulitzer—I mean, Erica—said. Her brown hair was up in a bouffant, and her green-and-white shift dress was vintage. I thought her hoop earrings and bright pink lipstick were a nice touch.
Meanwhile, my brother had dressed up as Davy Crockett. I couldn’t say his coonskin cap—I had no idea where he’d gotten it—was very cohesive with Erica’s Palm Beach uniform.
My dad offered to drive everyone who couldn’t fit in Nick’s and Luke’s cars; I rode squashed between Teddy and Finn in the backseat.
They were both in togas, while I was trying to pull off Princess Diana’s iconic running-errands outfit.
Black spandex, white midcalf socks with sneakers, and Charlie’s oversized HARVARD MEDICAL SCHOOL sweatshirt.
He’d also let me borrow his black Ray-Bans, and I’d slipped on Annie’s amazing sapphire-and-diamond ring.
“You look incredible, Olivia,” Sage/Amelia Earhart said, and I’d grinned.
Though I admittedly felt underdressed for dinner.
Once we rolled into Edgartown, our Expedition circled for a while. Cars not only lined Main Street but also all its offshoots. “How did he find something?” my dad said, incredulous, when we spotted Nick and everyone in his car strolling along town’s brick sidewalks.
“Connections,” Ashley said. “The Foxes have a reserved parking spot behind the Old Whaling Church. He charmed its location out of Andrew one night.”
“Why am I not surprised?” My dad chuckled as my mind drifted to the Foxes, and Connor, who had driven over to Paqua Farm for dinner earlier. How much fun was he having?
We scooped up a spot by Espresso Love about ten minutes later.
It was only yards from a cedar-shingled building with a white clapboard storefront and double-decker porch.
Patriotic bunting hung from the second floor’s white railing, and ALCHEMY was painted across the front windows in gold script.
Three…two… I waited for everyone to be stunned when we walked through the front door. One…
The hostess didn’t bat an eye. “Carmichael?” she confirmed, and after Ashley smiled and nodded, she gestured to the stairs. “The rest of your party’s up on the side balcony.”
I was keenly aware of the restaurant’s other patrons either raising their eyebrows while sipping their cocktails or setting down utensils to applaud when we walked by—something told me they were somehow in on the joke—so I was relieved to discover our table was sequestered from the rest of the restaurant.
It ran the length of the balcony, whose twinkly lights made everything cozier.
“Perfect for people watching…” Beth joked when my dad commented on the view.
“Good evening, everyone!” Our waiter appeared seconds after I opened my menu. He looked dapper, as Annie would say, in a white button-down, navy-blue vest, and a cream-and-navy striped tie. “I’m Dylan, and I’ll be taking care of you tonight.” He paused. “Are we celebrating something special?”
Nobody answered at first, but then I heard none other than Erica clear her throat. “No, Dylan,” she said. “Whyever would you think that?”
The table burst into laughter. “That was good, Erica,” Jay said, wiping his eyes. Topper nodded in agreement. “Really, really good.”
Erica smiled, and I noticed her sit up a little straighter in her seat.
I could almost hear Annie’s voice in my ear: She makes a wonderful Lilly, doesn’t she?
Yes, I thought, feeling a pang of something like pride. She does.
* * *
Alchemy didn’t leave us wanting for dessert, but Teddy and Nick threatened to mutiny if we didn’t swing by Mad Martha’s before driving home. And me, admittedly. My stomach rumbled in agreement, suddenly craving two scoops in a waffle cone.
Would you like anything from MM’s? I texted Connor as we weaved through people on the sidewalk. My heart skipped at the thought of seeing him later.
Gray dots popped up in our chat, but before Connor’s response appeared, I felt a familiar hand on my shoulder. My dad. “You have a minute to talk?” he asked, which had always been his way of saying, We need to talk.
“Yes.” I quickly locked my phone. “What’s up?”
“Maisie told me you went out to breakfast with Connor today? That’s why you weren’t at the house this morning?”
I grimaced, already feeling guilty enough.
When Connor and I’d gotten back from Vineyard Haven, Bryce and Maisie had quite literally dragged me into the spacious garage, where twelve gingerbread houses were on exhibit.
“Christmas in July,” Maisie explained as I admired the twins’ creation.
Instead of a pitched roof, it had a flat one with gumdrop solar panels.
“You should’ve been there, Olivia,” Bryce said. “Nick and Charlie squirted frosting at each other, and Aunt Beth kept licking the candy canes.” He giggled. “Swede stole one of the gingerbread men…”
“I’m sorry,” I told my dad weakly. We were standing outside a sophisticated boutique, having fallen behind our fellow historical figures. “I didn’t realize it was mandatory. Connor and I—”
“Seem as thick as thieves lately,” my dad noted, then tilted his head. “Anything I should know about there?”
I felt my cheeks warm. “He’s helping me retrace Annie’s steps.” I quickly told him about discovering the sketches and photos. “I want to visit each place she did while she was here.”
My dad’s eyebrows furrowed a little, intrigued. I took that to mean he had never seen her mementos. “Okay, so she did come here with Kathy Ryan,” he said. “Long ago.”
“No, I don’t think so.” I shook my head. “It seems like she was here with a boyfriend.”
His intrigue shifted to confusion. “A boyfriend?”
I shrugged. “Maisie spotted this guy in one of her Polaroids, and when I called Annie yesterday, she told me that a summer romance—”
My dad snapped his fingers. “I knew it,” he said, smirking a little. “There is something going on with Connor.”
I gave him a look. “That’s your key takeaway? Connor and me? You aren’t curious about Annie’s past here?”
“Of course I am,” he said. “She’s my mother, but I’m your father. Having a handle on my daughter’s dating life is a higher priority for me.”
“I’m not dating Connor,” I mumbled as I folded my arms over my chest, as if to calm the butterflies fluttering inside. “We’re having fun.”
With the exception of my prom date, I’d never introduced a guy to my dad. Only Erica had casually met them; she was polite, but I could tell she wasn’t very impressed.
My dad laughed. “Well, I hate to break it to you, Liv, but I don’t see much of a difference.” He slipped his arm around my shoulders. “Either way, we need to find you some new sleeping accommodations.”
I didn’t object. Part of me knew that was coming.
“Tell me more about these watercolors,” he said once we started up the sidewalk again. “Because I don’t think I’ve ever seen your grandmother pick up a paintbrush.”
“I know,” I said, heart racing. “Which makes me think she isn’t the artist.”
* * *
Connor didn’t get home until after I’d packed up all my stuff and attempted to surreptitiously drag it to the other side of the house, to a cozy reading room near the bunk room.
It had a comfortable daybed, but Ashley—finished putting her boys to bed—peeked in and told me there was an air mattress and linens in the back of the closet.
“Thanks for the tip,” I said, and I considered asking her about her father-in-law’s memory battle, but I couldn’t find the words. And maybe I wasn’t supposed to know. Connor made it sound pretty private.
I hummed as I unzipped my suitcase, then I organized my other belongings.
I had somehow collected so much stuff over the last week that I’d borrowed the yellow duffel bag I’d found under Summer Camp’s bunkbed.
Connor stole it from his brother, I surmised, remembering the two of us shooting the shit about The Parent Trap.
“My mom bought Liam a yellow duffel bag when he was nervous for his first sleepover,” he’d said, “to give him some Hallie Parker chutzpah…”
Connor’s cup runneth over with chutzpah, I thought, biting back my smile. It was stupid how excited I was to see him. Be back soon, he’d texted fifteen minutes ago. Can’t wait for my midnight snack!
After changing into my pajamas and a sweater, I grabbed his generous scoop of Menemsha Mint Oreo from the freezer and waited for him on Summer Camp’s little porch. The air was cool and comfortably damp, but I felt beads of sweat on the back of my neck.
Especially when a pair of headlights appeared in the darkness.
My pulse leaped when his Jeep’s door popped open, and it leaped again when it slammed shut. “Lady Spencer!” Connor softly called upon spotting me in the porch light’s glow. “How was dinner?”
I opened my mouth but had no idea what I said.
The world blurred and went to white noise; all I could focus on was Connor’s breeze-blown hair, blue eyes, and grin.
He played up the Princess Diana bit by kissing my hand before tugging me into a warm hug.
A wave of campfire, citronella, and the sea air wrapped around me. It smelled like an incredible night.
I pulled out of the embrace to smile and loop my arms around his neck. “Dinner was delicious,” I said. “And really fun.”
“I’m so glad,” Connor said, hands resting on my waist. Even through my sweater, my body hummed from his touch. “I had fun tonight too.”
“Good,” I murmured, and then we smiled at each other for half a heartbeat before I rose up on my tiptoes and kissed him.
He tasted like s’mores and strawberry rhubarb pie, and I couldn’t get enough of it.
We kissed fast and furiously, but my breath didn’t catch until his tongue slowly started running along my lower lip.
I broke away to breathe, only to fall a hundred stories into his gaze.
He made me feel safe but also undeniably starry-eyed.
It was almost unsettling, and I was suddenly grateful to my dad for insisting I sleep elsewhere.
Just thinking about saying good night to Connor made me ache, but I was also relieved I had a space of my own to retreat to later.
“Do you want to go for a walk?” he asked.
Yes, I thought, but heard myself say, “Your ice cream’s going to melt.”
“That’s okay,” he said. “I like milkshakes.”
“Nice try.” I smirked. “Melted ice cream is not a milkshake.”
“Have you been talking to Mads?” Connor jibed, but he caught my drift. He grabbed his to-go cup and popped off its plastic lid once he’d gotten cozy on the couch. I needed no invitation before snuggling into his side.
“My dad knows about us,” I said after he offered me a bite of ice cream. “He knows we’re…” I hesitated. “Having fun.”
“Okay, cool,” Connor said, seemingly unfazed. “Should I prepare myself for a talk?”
I giggled. “That’s not really his style.”
Because, as far as I knew, it wasn’t.
“Got it.” Connor nodded. “But just so you know, I am excellent at those talks.”
“Oh, yeah? You have references?”
He laughed, and the sheer delight in it made me smile and my heart spin around in my chest. I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt a glow like this before, or at least not in a very long time.
Don’t let it worry you, I told myself. You might be getting swept up, but you’re not getting swept away.