Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
T hat first night without Nellie was dreadful.
Frankie felt the ache of missing her through her arms and legs and in her stomach. She stretched out on the beach chair on the veranda and listened to her parents’ soft conversation in the kitchen. They’d gotten pizza; her mother planned to pour a glass of wine.
This was Frankie’s new normal. A life at home.
She was grateful for it, of course. After everything that had happened, she would always count her blessings.
But she needed to figure out a new chapter for herself, too.
It was difficult to know how to proceed.
Of course, there were hundreds of job applications for meaningless jobs in Manhattan and Brooklyn and Boston and San Francisco. There were air-conditioned offices with boring desk layouts, calling out to her to apply. She could be a copywriter for a faceless corporation. She could throw herself into a start-up and give her life away. She could even apply for graduate school and pursue life as a professor.
She sat up. The life of a professor. That sounded especially romantic. She could talk about linguistics all day. She could chat with students about ideas. She could write academic papers contributing to the density of human thought.
She could do so much.
But I can’t apply till January. And who knows if I’ll actually get in?
She collapsed back in the chair.
Her mother came outside with a glass of wine for Frankie. Frankie thanked her and sat up to clink her glass with hers. Her mother looked sad nearly all the time now, but it was especially pronounced tonight, only a few hours after they’d said goodbye to Nellie.
“I’ve been thinking,” Ida said because she wasn’t one to beat around the bush. “You need something to do.”
Frankie laughed. “I really, really do.”
“I don’t know if you know this,” Ida said. “But I’m out a business partner.”
“I did hear about that.”
Ida grimaced. It looked as though she was trying to laugh. “We’ll probably be in litigation for the next forever,” she said. “Susan Sheridan is brilliant, but there’s no telling how long this will go. In the meantime, the Nantucket Sunset Cruisers needs to make as much capital as we can.”
“Capital. Got it.”
Ida stuck out her tongue. “I know. You hate this kind of talk.”
“No, Mom.” Frankie reached out to touch her mother’s arm. “I want to help. I want to keep your business alive. I know how much it means to you.”
Ida’s eyes glinted. “I know you probably have a million ideas for your future. I’m sure none of them has anything to do with operating a dinner cruise company.”
“Ha.”
“I’m just asking for your help through next year,” Ida said. “Until this mess gets cleaned up. You’re organized. You’re smart. You’re good with people.”
“Are you thinking of your other daughter?” Frankie teased.
Ida rolled her eyes and smiled.
“I’ll do it,” Frankie said. “When do I start?”
“Do you have time tomorrow?” Ida asked.
“I planned to lay in bed from eight to six tomorrow.”
“Can you reschedule that?”
“I’ll talk to my secretary,” Frankie said. “I think I can make it work.”
Rick came out with the pizza boxes and a funny smile. It was clear he’d overheard their banter.
“How’s the business meeting going?” he asked, setting the boxes out on the table between Ida and Frankie and passing out plates.
The cheese-roasted vegetables and greasy meats were intoxicating.
“We have an agreement,” Ida said, piling her plate high with pizza.
Frankie filled her lungs and turned to look out across the Nantucket Sound. This late in August, the sun dimmed and cast ominous grays and purples and blues across the choppy water. In the far distance was a sailboat skimming over the waves.
Frankie often had difficulty believing she’d been allowed to grow up here. That she’d been given the gift of her mother and her father and her sister, Nellie. At twenty-three, she had it far better than most. Her journey had only just begun.