Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-six
The rest of the day unfolded like a flower.
They lunched on watermelon salad and lounged by the pool in the afternoon, and in the early evening the three of them got dinner at a darling historic inn on the island where they watched the sunset from the veranda.
It was a pleasure to spend time with Jonathan and his daughter, Iris was surprised at how comfortable she felt.
The horse trial had broken something open in Allegra, she was chatty and warm with Iris, revealing how much of her coolness before had been shyness in disguise.
And Jonathan seemed off duty in a different way without the others around.
He wore a simple gray T-shirt, khaki shorts, and Birkenstocks; he was in dad mode— hot -dad mode.
They dined on mussels in a heavenly garlic broth, local sea bass Provencal, and the most perfect strawberry shortcake Iris had ever tasted.
Iris and Jonathan ate and drank enough that their cheeks matched the blush of the rosé wine.
Back at the house, Allegra retreated to her bedroom, and Jonathan and Iris shared a nightcap. He invited her to take a walk around the back of the house along the beach, saying only “I want to show you something.”
—
They walked along the stony beach, her feet curling over the pebbles. Moonlight shimmered on the rippling surface of the bay, and the breeze off the water carried the scent of brine and the dark seaweed that washed up on the beach like tangled hair.
Jonathan turned his back to the water and faced the house.
“Did you know this house is part of a triptych?” He pointed up to his own property and then the two beside it, each one unique but with similar characteristics.
“Three friends in the sixties bought adjacent land plots and commissioned Norman Jaffe to design them all together.”
“I knew he designed three, but I didn’t know they were commissioned by friends. What a dream, to live next door to your best friends in homes as magical as these.”
“Can you imagine the parties?”
Iris could imagine it. To be young, in love, rich and fabulous in the swinging sixties, surrounded by incredible architecture and design and this gorgeous setting—the thought alone was intoxicating.
“That’s what really drew me to this property.
A place designed from the concept of a social community.
” Jonathan sat down on the sand, facing the house, and Iris sat next to him.
“Real estate gets so competitive, and let’s call it what it is, dick measuring.
Who can build the tallest tower on Billionaires’ Row?
Whose Hamptons beachfront palace can have the largest footprint?
There’s such a fierce individualism to real estate development. Maybe it’s an American thing.”
“Or…a masculine one,” Iris ventured.
He laughed. “Yes, I’ll cop to that! I was that way when I was younger.
And still the prevailing definition of luxury is having every possible amenity at your fingertips within your home, so you’d want for nothing and never have to leave.
Everyone in their own perfect bubble—and we’re miserable!
Because that’s not how humans are supposed to live. We’re social animals.”
Iris nodded. “I think about that a lot. And how in the city we’re all cheek by jowl, living in a side-by-side comparison, literally. The bubble is transparent. You are constantly confronted with what you don’t have.”
“Exactly. But this house, its entire concept was about friendship, about maintaining ties through land and form and home and community. It reminds me that home isn’t defined by the property line, it’s the security of the relationships that the home fosters, within and without.”
Iris was genuinely moved. She gazed at the other two homes, one of which had its lights on. “Do you know your neighbors?”
“No. Not yet.” He shot her a guilty smile. “I’ve been meaning to invite them over. I’m a man still under renovation.”
“We all are.”
Jonathan grew serious. “That’s my biggest regret about the divorce, fracturing that home for Allegra.
I can build her all the houses and horse barns her heart could desire, but I let cracks in the foundation of my relationship with her mom turn into a disaster.
We were her home, not some property. And I didn’t protect it. She’s been more withdrawn ever since.”
“She wasn’t today.”
“No. Today, she was brave . And she was proud of herself. Thanks to you.”
Iris began to protest.
“I’m serious, that was incredible. It wasn’t my instinct. I wanted to tear her off that pony, and then tear the head off that seller. But then you come marching in—”
“I was afraid of overstepping.”
“You did! But I liked it. And you were right.” Jonathan met her gaze for a moment that made her heart skip, then looked back at the houses glowing warm yellow against the navy sky.
“I’m always trying to protect her from the outside in.
Today you made her feel safe from the inside out.
I think I’ve felt so guilty about the divorce, I haven’t wanted to push her.
I wanted to prove to her how good I can make things again.
Like, if I make the obstacles she faces small enough, she won’t be afraid to step over them.
But she’s growing up, and cutting her food into tiny pieces only serves to say ‘I think you’re gonna choke.
’ Like I have no faith in her, when I really just have no faith in myself. ”
Iris was touched he would share this with her.
“I think you’re a wonderful father. You’re a natural caretaker.
I can see it in how you interact with the people who work for you and even their families.
” She thought of him with Patrick by the pool.
“And a girl will have plenty of people who try and push her out of her comfort zone. From her dad, a daughter just wants to feel protected.”
“Thank you.” He sounded choked up.
Iris made a joke to cover for him, “We are the only two people on this island who would sit on the beach and face a house .”
Jonathan laughed. “You get me.” He rose from the sand and offered a hand to help Iris up.
She pushed her hair off her face, and her wrist passed over her nose. Iris smelled the perfume’s heady florals melded with the remains of a salty summer day on her skin. She felt beautiful and sensual.
As they walked back along the beach, Jonathan asked, “What do you want out of life, Iris?”
“That’s a big question.”
“I don’t really do small talk.”
She sighed. “I want to skip to the good part. I feel like I’ve been working and grinding in my work and otherwise for so long, trying to get to the next level. But every time I think I see it on the horizon, it’s like a big wave comes and sends me crashing back to shore.”
“Do you want marriage, family, kids? Or is that too conventional for you?”
“Yes, definitely. Did I give you the idea I’m avant-garde? I’m pretty boring.”
“You’re anything but. Your confidence, the way you command a room—you could have anything you want.”
Jonathan wasn’t describing her, Iris thought, he was describing the perfume. She recalled her advice to Allegra: Fake it till you makeit.
He continued, “You just have to live in the moment and trust that the right opportunity, and the right person, will come to you.”
Iris’s ankle rolled in the pebbly sand, and Jonathan caught her by the shoulders, his palms warm on her cold skin. She turned to face him and he didn’t let go. Their eyes locked.
She kissed him.
For a moment Iris was completely lost in the sensation of his mouth, warm and soft, turning her already loose limbs into melted butter.
Then he gripped her shoulders gently and pushed her away, and reality was like the smack of a wave hitting her face.
What had she done?