Chapter Seventeen Olivia
By the time dinner was over, the rain had finally stopped, which meant that the after-party could take place on the beach as planned, bonfire and all. The storm was apparently no match for Tess’s “manifesting.”
The bonfire was near the yacht club, on the east side of the island, the portion that faced the ocean.
If you set sail from the beach, you wouldn’t strike land again until you reached the South of France.
The thought of that vast emptiness usually made Olivia shudder, but tonight the surf seemed strangely calm in the wake of the storm, and the crash of the glassy waves sounded more cheerful than ominous.
Olivia drove Zack, Andrew, and Natalie over in her golf cart, joining the caravan of chauffeured carts that’d been booked for the evening.
The path down to the beach was too steep for carts to take them all the way, so the wedding guests all got out at the top of the bluff and shuffled down the dark, rocky path—no small feat considering how much most people had had to drink at the rehearsal dinner.
This is a lawsuit waiting to happen, Olivia thought as she slid out of her cart.
Andrew eyed the steep, narrow path before them.
“Are you going to be okay getting down there? Need a hand?” Olivia’s brain raced to perform the cost-benefit analysis she applied to nearly every decision.
Was Andrew more attracted to tough, independent women or was he the type who liked to rescue a damsel in (very mild) distress?
Then he extended his hand, and Olivia’s body went into autopilot, unwilling to forgo the chance to lean against him.
He wrapped his arm around her so she could keep her weight off her injured foot and guided her down toward the beach.
Up close, he smelled faintly of scotch and salt; Olivia had to resist the urge to inhale.
“I’m surprised you signed off on this location,” Andrew said. “Seems like a lawsuit waiting to happen.”
“You try convincing Marigold that something’s a bad idea.
” The bonfire had been the only part of the wedding weekend agenda Marigold had insisted on, leaving the rest up to Lulu and Tess.
“She said she’d ‘seen it all in a dream,’ but I think it’s more likely she stumbled across something on Instagram. ”
“It’s remarkable what wedding planning does to people’s brains. My sister made it her whole personality, then went through this weird withdrawal phase after. Like postparty depression.”
“Yeah, that doesn’t seem uncommon.”
“I can’t see you losing your mind over napkin rings.”
“Because I’m famously laid-back and chill.”
Andrew laughed. “I’d never call you ‘chill.’ But you expend so much energy on stuff that matters, it doesn’t feel like you’d have much left over to worry about trivial shit. Those bridezilla types are the ones with too much time on their hands.”
“ ‘Stuff that matters,’ ” Olivia repeated with a smile. “That’s nice. Zack thinks I’ve been ‘tricked into believing moving money from one corporation’s account to another is a matter of life and death.’ ”
Andrew stopped walking. “He said that?” he asked with a mix of surprise and concern. “I’m sorry, but that’s really not cool.”
Shit, Olivia thought. She’d forgotten that Zack was supposed to be her boyfriend. “He was just joking,” she said quickly. “You must know his humor, since you read his work.”
“Okay, good. Otherwise he’s an idiot who doesn’t deserve you.
” The conviction in his voice made Olivia’s stomach flutter with a combination of excitement and guilt; it was thrilling to think that Andrew felt protective of her, but she didn’t want to unfairly cast Zack as the type of man who’d belittle his girlfriend.
They stepped onto the sand and Andrew waited what felt like an extra beat before letting go of Olivia’s waist. Up ahead, the catering staff had built a huge bonfire and erected folding tables covered with ingredients for s’mores, and guests were already swaying in time with the steel drum band, drinks held aloft in the air.
Marigold would’ve loved this, she thought with more wistfulness than frustration.
She still wasn’t sure what was going on with her sister—whether she’d actually gone to fetch her birth certificate or if something more serious was afoot—but there was nothing Olivia could do about it now, not without creating even more tension and drama.
She just had to hope Marigold got on that flight tomorrow so that everything could continue as planned.
Andrew glanced at his Apple Watch. “Excuse me. I should call Emerson back. I think she needs directions.”
As he pulled out his phone and headed down the beach, Lulu shuffled toward Olivia, beaming from the depths of a full-length puffy coat.
She’d always gotten cold easily, and these days anything under seventy degrees left her shivering.
“Sooo…” she said, eyes flashing with delight. “How long has this been going on?”
“Nothing’s going on!” Olivia said, watching Andrew out of the corner of her eye. At least, not yet.
“Really?” Lulu’s face fell slightly. “Andrew told Bill that you and Zack were an item.”
“Oh, right. Me and Zack. Well, it’s new. And not really official or anything.”
Lulu brightened again. “Got it. I promise not to ask probing questions. But I’m so happy, Livvy. Zack’s such a sweet boy. Remember that care package he sent last time I was in the hospital?”
“Um, no?”
“I went into the hospital a few days after he and Jonathan came over for Thanksgiving, and Zack sent me a bunch of the books we’d discussed at dinner. And some fancy tea and cookies.”
“You… definitely never mentioned that.” Olivia imagined all the steps that would entail: going to the bookstore and the gourmet grocery store, finding the right-sized box, texting Jonathan for the room number at the hospital, standing in line at the post office.
It was a lot of work to cheer up a person he’d only met a handful of times.
“Well, he’s a good egg, as my grandmother would’ve said.”
“He is,” Olivia agreed, though she was certain that if Lulu had discovered that Olivia was dating Andrew, she’d be singing his praises instead. She just wants me to be happy and loved, Olivia thought.
As if confirming her suspicions, Lulu continued, “I know I’ve been a pain in the ass about encouraging you to date.
I never thought of myself as one of those mothers.
And I know you don’t need anyone—you have a rich, wonderful life, and I’m so proud of you.
But there’s a special kind of emotional support that comes from having a partner, and I think even you might appreciate that when things… get hard.”
“Maybe,” Olivia said, eager to change the subject.
“Why don’t you go join him?” Lulu nodded at the circle of cushions around the bonfire, where Zack had been roped into a conversation with Dylan, a high school friend of Marigold’s who was currently taking a “gap year” after dropping out of his MFA program. “Looks like he might need rescuing.”
“I think I need a drink first,” Olivia said, eyeing them. She took two beers from the bar and made her way to the bonfire, where she gingerly lowered herself onto the empty cushion next to Zack, wincing when her injured foot hit the sand.
“You okay?” Zack asked. “Is it your foot?”
“Yeah, but I’m fine. I’ll take some Advil later.”
“Want me to go find some now?”
“Thanks,” she whispered. “But if you leave me alone with these people, I’ll kill you.”
Zack gave her a tight smile, then said loudly, “Dylan was just telling me about his novel.”
“I needed to get away from academia to really write, you know?” Dylan tossed his head back to swig his beer, his wavy, light brown hair brushing against his shoulders. “It was such a suffocating environment—all those self-righteous twenty-three-year-olds. Believe me, the kids are not all right.”
“I don’t know about that.” Zack accepted a beer from Olivia with a grateful nod. “I teach college kids, and I’m consistently impressed with them.”
“Dylan, hi!” Bri took a few unsteady steps toward them, then collapsed on the sand with a giggle.
Liesl followed with her usual saunter before lowering herself to the ground.
With languorous, catlike movements, she folded her legs into a lotus position, causing her loose white shorts to slide up her thighs.
“How was Bali?” Bri asked, leaning toward Dylan. “Your photos were incredible.”
“It was pretty chill,” he said. “I wanna go back, but I promised my buddy I’d meet him in Berlin.”
“I adore Berlin,” Liesl said in the vaguely European accent she affected from time to time. She turned to Zack. “It seems like a city you’d really enjoy. It’s the only place I’ve been that feels full of really free thinkers, you know?”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Zack said pleasantly.
A shadow of irritation flickered across Liesl’s face.
This clearly wasn’t the reaction she’d hoped for.
She decided to try a different tact. “Everyone also feels so liberated sexually as well. Liv, what’s your favorite city for a one-night stand?
” Liesl asked, well aware that her friend’s older sister wasn’t one for overseas flings.
“Sandpiper Island,” Zack answered for her, wrapping an arm around Olivia. “Though I’d be pretty bummed if this turned out to be a one-night stand.”
Liesl stared at him, though this time, it wasn’t part of her act. But it took just a second for her to regain her composure. “You two are together? Oh my god, that’s so cute.” She flashed them a sweet smile, tossed her long, dark hair over shoulder, and turned to face Dylan.
“You’re putting on quite a show,” Olivia whispered. “I didn’t realize you were such a good actor.”
“Anything worth doing is worth doing well. Besides, this is a perfect place to pretend to be in love, isn’t it? At a beach bonfire on a starry summer night?”
“Sure, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“It’s kind of cold. The sand is itchy. And I’ve never understood the allure of a bonfire.
It falls into the same category as fireworks, this spectacle we’ve been socialized to think is special and beautiful.
But is it? Does it really move something inside us?
Or are we just conditioned to believe it does? ”
“Holy shit,” Zack said with a grin.
“Yes, I’m just as cynical as you imagined.”
“No, that’s not it.” He reached down and rolled up his pant leg to reveal a tattoo above his ankle: a short sentence in the shape of a cresting wave.
“What does it say?” Olivia asked, squinting for a better look.
“ ‘It’s not pretty.’ From that Bukowski poem I Met A Genius. You know, the one with the kid on the train who points to the ocean and says, ‘It’s not pretty’?”
“No idea.”
“It’s about the exact question you just asked, about whether we’re conditioned to find certain sights beautiful regardless of the emotion they conjure. It was my favorite poem as a kid.” He rolled his pant leg back down. “Super douchey as a tattoo, though,” he added sheepishly.
“Not gonna argue with you there.”
Zack laughed and shrugged out of his blazer before placing it over Olivia’s shoulders. “I can’t make the sand less itchy, but I can make you less cold.”
“Thanks.” Olivia felt a surge of warmth that had nothing to do with the new layer of fabric. She pulled it around her, then grimaced. “God, this is itchier than the sand! What the hell is this material?”
“It’s wool!”
“Who the hell wears wool to a July wedding?”
“Not everyone can afford a new suit for every event, Miss Manners.”
She scratched her arm. “I think it gave me fleas.”
“You’ve lost jacket-wearing privileges. I’m taking it back.”
Zack tugged on the sleeve, and Olivia pulled it toward her with a laugh. “No way! I’m freezing.”
“Guess you’ll learn a lesson for next time, then.” He yanked it again, but Olivia held on tighter. They played tug-of-war for a few seconds before Olivia let go, sending Zack tumbling backward into the sand.
“That’s it,” Zack said, wiping sand off his face. “You asked for it.” He wrapped his arm around Olivia’s waist and started to pull her down toward him.
“Stop it!” She laughed and tried to wriggle free.
“I’m wearing silk!” As she squirmed in a half-hearted attempt to get away, she caught sight of Andrew watching them.
He was standing alone, a drink in his hand, surveying Olivia and Zack with an expression that was hard to discern from a distance.
A flicker of some emotion crossed his face, though perhaps it was just a shadow from the bonfire.