The Stroll #3
She gave herself time to remember what else Lydia told her last night. She was a grown woman who could handle herself.
Was she going to cower like a Pekinese in front of two Rottweilers?
No. She was going to purr like a cat with sharp claws.
Peaches was cooing, “This little bitty island is just so cute!”
Florie turned, smiled her best smile, the one that showed her dimples.
“Oh, hi, Apple.” She knew she was using the wrong name.
She did it on purpose. “Yes, this island is adorable.” She gave the word the same sorority girl sugar.
“I suppose that’s why Bill Belichick and Dave Portnoy have homes here. Compounds, actually.”
Peaches and Allegra blinked, seeming surprised that Florie had spoken.
“You know who they are, of course,” Florie continued. “Bill Belichick was the coach of the New England Patriots. And Dave Portnoy is the owner of Barstool Sports. You may not know about him, but I’ll bet Gunnar and Hakeem do.”
Gunnar and Hakeem roared, talking at the same time. “Belichick? Portnoy? Here? Have you met them? Do the players ever come here?”
Peaches and Allegra became a wall, blocking Florie from the men. Florie stood on her tiptoes and squeezed herself against Daniel to answer them.
“Of course they do. Tom Brady now and then. And Gronk—he likes to party out at Cisco Brewers.”
Allegra stepped back so she could face Florie. “Have you met Gronk?”
Okay. Florie got it. This was the way to win their approval—no, their admiration.
And she had actually been at a party at Cisco when Gronk was there, huge and handsome and having fun.
“Yeah, I’ve met him, but only informally, like at parties.
” Casually, she added, “Elin Hilderbrand is here in the summer. Jennifer Garner was here last year to shoot Elin’s novel. ”
Peaches squealed, “Oh my God, I’d love to meet her!”
Daniel put his arm around Florie. “Hey, let’s talk later. We’re looking for Christmas gifts now.”
“Lunch? Brotherhood?” Gunnar suggested.
“Why don’t you all stop by my house tonight,” Florie said. “Our family is having a Stroll party. Lots of food and some punch I think you guys will love.” She wanted to say, And then you can see our cute little old Nantucket house, but she knew that would be a step too far.
After a few more minutes of disorganized discussion, Daniel’s four friends wandered off. Florie studied the pretty paperweight and asked Daniel if his mother would like it.
“She’d love it,” he said.
Florie purchased the gift. The crafter wrapped it in tissue and put it in a pretty paper bag.
“Now where?” Florie asked Daniel.
“Let’s walk.” Daniel took her arm and they ambled down to Swain’s Wharf.
The tide was out, so they strolled along the curve of beach to the town pier and sat on a bench looking out at the water.
“Is something wrong?” Florie asked.
“Not wrong,” Daniel said. He took Florie’s hand.
“It’s just…Gunnar and Allegra and Hakeem and Peaches are my friends, but not my close friends.
” He huffed, irritated with himself. “I don’t mean to be unkind.
But Gunnar is kind of an idiot. And the girls—I can call them girls because that’s what they call themselves—they’re party girls.
They spend a lot of time deciding on what color of nail polish to wear. ”
“I’m surprised. I thought you guys were tight. And Peaches said you were such a good kisser, so I thought—”
Daniel laughed. “I think I was seventeen when I kissed Peaches. But, Florie, the truth is, I had girlfriends. You’ll be meeting some of them in Milwaukee.”
“Oooh,” Florie cooed, kidding but also not kidding. “Do you have a lot of old girlfriends?”
“Now that I won the poetry prize, it seems that half of the women in Wisconsin have been my girlfriends.”
Florie smiled. “And the other half want to be.”
Daniel gazed out at the water. “I travel a lot. You know that. I’m invited to literary festivals and poetry seminars.
I’ll be teaching, and I’ll have committee meetings and student conferences.
And I’ll be writing. I’ll be holed up somewhere with a notebook and pen.
I like to be solitary when I’m writing. I don’t want you to be lonely.
But I don’t think Gunnar and Peaches are your kind of crowd. ”
Florie studied his face. She recalled Lydia’s advice.
“Daniel, it’s going to be fine. I’m going to get a job, I’m not sure what, but I’ll make friends there.
I admit I’m worried about how you will know everyone and I won’t know anyone, but I’m smart.
I’ll be able to make new friends. Even women friends who haven’t kissed you, if there are any left in the state of Wisconsin. ”
Daniel laughed and took Florie in his arms. “There’s no one like you, Florie.”
Florie summoned up the clever bold girl that seemed to be developing minute by minute in her character. “You’re right,” she said cockily. “And there’s no one like you.”
Maybe, she thought, the thing about family was that you had to get away to start your own life, but the more they were still there when you needed them, the less you needed them.
And she thought: There’s no one like my sister.