Chapter 3
Claire always slept well on Nantucket. She wasn’t sure if the air was different or if it was just the comfort of being in her childhood home.
She made her way into the kitchen a little after nine.
Her mother was already showered, changed, and sitting at the kitchen island, drinking coffee and reading the morning news on her laptop.
She looked up when Claire walked into the room.
“Morning, honey. I picked up the bagels you like yesterday—the French toast ones.”
“Thank you.” Claire put a pod in the Nespresso machine and made a fresh cup of coffee with a thick layer of foam on top.
She loved those sugary cinnamon bagels, but her stomach wasn’t ready for food yet.
She sipped her coffee and gazed out the window at the ocean.
The waves were bigger than usual this morning and tipped with white.
Watching the waves crash along the beach was so soothing.
In warmer weather, they’d open their windows at night, and the sound of the ocean lulled her to sleep.
Claire smiled remembering how Ellis had hated it though.
He’d brought earplugs every time he visited to block out the sound he found so annoying.
She noticed her mother’s outfit. “Is that a new sweater? The color looks great on you.”
“It is. I picked it up at Murray’s during one of their fall sales.”
The ocean-blue shade made her mother’s blue eyes pop.
She’d always looked young for her age, which was now sixty-one.
She wore her hair in a simple bob and covered her stray grays monthly, so the overall color was a pretty dark blond.
Her mother always looked put together, even if she was wearing jeans like today.
She’d tied a floral white and pink scarf around her neck, which complimented the blue.
Claire didn’t have her same knack with scarves, so she didn’t even bother to try anymore.
“Feel like going into town for lunch and to do a little shopping?” her mother suggested. “It’s a gorgeous sunny day, and I thought it might be fun to walk around a bit.”
“Sure. Sounds good. I need to pick up a book too.”
They had a delicious lunch at her mother’s current favorite restaurant, Mimi’s Place.
It was right downtown and had been around for as long as Claire could remember, but she hadn’t been there in a few years.
They were welcomed warmly at the front desk by a woman about Claire’s age.
She led them to a table for two by a window that looked out over Main Street.
The restaurant was lighter and brighter than Claire remembered, and she mentioned it to her mother.
“The O’Toole girls remodeled it when they took it over.
Remember I mentioned it last year? You went to school with them—Mandy, Emma, and Jill.
That was Emma who seated us. She dates Paul, the chef.
They dated in high school, then reconnected when the girls’ grandmother left the restaurant to all four of them.
No one ever knew she owned the restaurant.
There was lots of talk about it at the time. ”
Claire smiled. “Everyone knows everyone’s business here. I do remember you mentioning that. I was in Mandy’s class. I haven’t seen her in ages.” She picked up the menu. “So what’s really good here?”
“Lately, I’ve been loving the lobster grilled cheese. But the chicken marsala is always good too.”
They both decided on the lobster grilled cheese with truffle fries.
It was delicious, as her mother had said.
After lunch, they walked all around downtown, up and down the cobblestone streets.
They popped in and out of at least a dozen shops.
There were gift shops, jewelers, and many boutiques.
One shop focused on just cashmere items, and they quickly strolled in and out, shaking their heads at the high prices.
Claire didn’t see anything under eight hundred dollars.
“It’s amazing they stay in business,” she said softly as they exited.
“I think they actually do well. There’s no shortage of people here who don’t even look at the price tags, especially in the summer.
” That was true. When Claire had flown into Nantucket Airport, there was a line of private jets there, even in March.
So many people flew back and forth to New York and elsewhere.
She knew that some of Ellis’s clients had second homes on Nantucket—mansions on the water that were only used a few months or even weeks a year.
It was common for wives of rich men—like those who worked in finance running hedge funds, private equity, or investment banking—to spend summers on Nantucket with their children while the men flew back and forth on weekends.
There was an assortment of options for clothing—from the touristy T-shirt shops where you could buy a sweatshirt or T-shirt with Nantucket emblazoned across it to local shops, like Murray’s Toggery, which had quality clothes suitable for golf or everyday life on Nantucket and were the inventors of the popular Nantucket Red color, which fell somewhere between red and pink.
There was also a gorgeous multilevel Ralph Lauren shop, and Claire always liked to look around there too.
She made sure to stop into Mitchell’s Book Corner, the bookshop that was right on Main Street. It also had two levels and had a great selection of books, many from local authors. They had Rebecca in stock, so she purchased a copy and also picked up Elin Hilderbrand’s latest novel.
They headed home after that, and Claire was surprised to find herself yawning as they walked into the house. She’d forgotten how bone-tired she’d often felt during her first trimester with Lily. It was so long ago, and she couldn’t help but wonder if she was even more tired now that she was older.
Her mother noticed and smiled. “Why don’t you take your book and go lie down for a while? I’m going to make a big pot of chicken soup for supper. I might read a bit too. It feels like a lazy Sunday.”
Claire yawned again, then laughed. “I think I will, actually. I never nap, but maybe I’ll just rest for a while.”
She went into her room and changed out of her jeans into a pair of soft, cozy sweatpants, then grabbed her book and curled up on her bed, pulling the thick warm down comforter over her.
She glanced out the window. A misty fog had rolled in and hung over the ocean like a giant cloud.
She opened her book and, after reading a few pages, set it down and closed her eyes.
A feeling of intense sadness washed over her, and she gave in to the feeling and let the tears flow.
She cried for the loss of her marriage and for the love they’d once had.
Even though things had been strained the past few years, there were good times too.
And she’d liked her life, mostly. She felt sorry for herself and guilty that Lily was going to have divorced parents now.
All their lives would be very different.
And now she had a new baby to worry about too.
She and Ellis had always assumed they’d have at least two children, but after Lily, she had miscarried twice, and then years passed without her getting pregnant again, and they pretty much gave up on the idea.
It was why it hadn’t occurred to her and she’d been so surprised when she took the test. She hadn’t thought it was possible.
Both of her miscarriages were in her first trimester.
She wouldn’t be able to fully relax and get attached until she got past that point.
Even then, she was a little nervous that something could go wrong.
Her mother had given Claire the name of a doctor to call, and she planned to do that tomorrow, first thing Monday morning, to make an appointment.
She was going to be so careful to do everything right.
She knew it was somewhat out of her hands, but she also wanted to be on top of everything, make sure she ate right and got enough rest.
She’d have the house to herself tomorrow, as her mother would be heading into work to her office downtown, where she worked as a CPA at a small accounting firm. That would give Claire plenty of time to start reading this book before their meeting Wednesday night.
Her eyes grew heavy, and she gave in and sank into a deep sleep.
She woke several hours later to the most enticing, familiar smell.
Her mother was baking bread, and the delicious scent filled the house.
She stretched lazily and gazed out the window.
The fog had lifted, and the waves had calmed.
In the distance, she could see a ferry heading toward the wharf.
She started running questions through her mind, wondering what would happen after she had the baby.
Marsha insisted that she could stay as long as she liked and said she was thrilled to have them with her.
And she had plenty of room. Her mother had been given this house by Claire’s grandmother, Mary Finnegan, who still lived on the island.
Grammy had moved into assisted living, a really nice one, a few years ago and at the time suggested that Claire’s mother sell the modest home that Claire had grown up in and move into this one.
Her mother had been resistant at first, but Grammy had insisted and said it was a shame for the big house on the water to sit empty or, god forbid, be sold to someone outside the family.
It wasn’t a fancy home, not like many of the ostentatious waterfront homes that were so common—most of those were summer houses for rich people.
Claire had always loved her grandmother’s house.
It was nearly a hundred years old and was the classic New England style, with weathered gray shingles, two floors, and a big porch that wrapped around and overlooked the ocean.
The house was high enough above the beach to be protected from storms and had retractable aluminum stairs that led down to the sand below.
Grammy had invited them to dinner Monday night, so Claire would be seeing her soon and looked forward to it.
At a quarter past five, she swung her legs off the bed and headed into the kitchen. Her mother was sitting in the living room, reading. A big round crusty loaf of bread sat on a wire rack on the counter.
Claire sliced the bread while her mother ladled bowls of soup for them, and they ate at the kitchen table.
The bread tasted as good as it smelled. She loved when it was still warm from the oven—when the crust was crispy and the insides tender and moist. Her mother’s secret ingredient was a swirl of molasses that gave the bread a hint of sweetness.
Claire added a thin layer of butter and a sprinkle of flaky salt.
“You can take the car tomorrow night to go to Grammy’s for dinner.”
Claire raised her eyebrows. “You won’t be joining us?”
“No. I forgot that I’d told Warren Hoffman I’d go to a lecture at the library. We’re having dinner first at Brotherhood of Thieves.”
Claire knew that her mother had been friends with Warren for many years. He’d been a good friend of her father’s once too. There was something in her mother’s voice though that she hadn’t heard before. And a light in her eyes. She looked happy.
“Has anything changed with Warren? I know he’s one of your best friends…or is it something more?”
Her mother blushed. “We’ve been best friends for years. He’s good company. Warren was there for me when your father and I divorced, and I supported him when he and Linda separated ten years ago. It’s very new, but I suppose you could say we’re dating now.”
Claire was surprised but also pleased to hear it. “I think that’s great. I always thought you’d make a good pair, but I’d kind of given up on the idea,” she admitted.
Her mother laughed. “It definitely crossed my mind now and then, but the timing was never right. Until it was. We were both nervous though as we didn’t want to mess up a good friendship. But so far, so good.”