Yacht Club Dinner
yacht club dinner
At six-thirty, Blythe stood in the front hall.
She called out, “Is everyone ready?”
She often wished she had a big brass gong to bang to get her children’s attention.
The yacht club tennis courts were ready in late May, but the dining room didn’t open until early June. Tonight was the first dinner in the beautiful Fair Winds Room and it would be packed.
Most important, this was their traditional first night dinner with Celeste.
Blythe knew that Celeste loved her grandchildren so much she wouldn’t criticize them if they wore their pajamas into the yacht club dining room, but she knew how proud Celeste was of her grandchildren, and Blythe wanted to keep her mother-in-law happy because she was a wonderful woman and a good friend.
She also knew that her children adored their grandmother and would dress appropriately because they wanted to please her.
Holly showed up first, wearing the pretty blue dress with the white collar that Blythe loved. Teddy arrived dressed in a button-down shirt and khakis because he knew the rules. Daphne, fifteen, slouched in wearing a sundress and holding a book in her hand with a finger marking her place. Finally, Miranda sauntered in, clad in a very short Zara denim dress that showed off her long legs but met Blythe’s standards because it was a dress, and it covered her belly button at least. Blythe wasn’t going to quarrel with her oldest child because it was their first Nantucket dinner together and maybe their only dinner together at the club.
Now Blythe announced, “It’s a beautiful evening. Let’s walk to the club!”
It was a beautiful evening, still bright at six-thirty, warm but not humid, an invitation to summer, and the summer house was only five blocks from the club.
Miranda begged, “Please, Mom, let’s go in the car.”
Blythe wanted the evening to be pleasant, so she held back a sarcastic remark about how impossible it would be for Miranda to walk far in that tight, short dress. She said easily, “Okay, we’ll do that.”
The children piled into the minivan, every single one of them doing something on their phones, as if this were their last opportunity before cellphones became illegal. Blythe drove them all to the club’s parking lot, waved at Eddie O’Brian, the attendant at the gate, and searched for an open spot among all the Jeeps, Range Rovers, and convertibles. They ended up parking at the far end of the lot, and they were lucky to get that. Everyone would be here tonight.
As they entered the club, three children surged ahead to greet their old summer friends. Miranda stayed by Blythe’s side, obsessed with her phone.
“No phones in the dining room,” Blythe told her.
Tossing her head with exasperation, Miranda slid the phone into her clutch. The great open hall of the club was filled with clusters of people, everyone greeting everyone else with cries of delight. Some of the club members had known one another since they were children. Blythe spotted Carolyn Post in the distance. She was Holly’s best summer friend, and they waved enthusiastically at each other. Joy lit her heart. Was there anything better than seeing a child happy?
Finally, Blythe stood before the podium. Horace White, the ma?tre d’ of the Fair Winds dining room, was a tall, handsome man with silver hair and a commanding presence.
“Hello, Mrs. Benedict, so happy to see you again.”
“Good to see you, Horace. How’s your summer so far?”
“Very good, thank you.”
He showed them to a round table for six. Celeste was already seated there, at her preferred spot in the corner. She always asked for this table because she was slightly deaf and the large dining room, even with its high ceiling, was noisy. Anyway, it suited her, and she probably knew, although she’d never say so, that she enjoyed being enthroned at the large table, with its white cloth, shining silver, and candles. Both Daphne and Teddy had been blessed with the same dramatic dark eyes and hair that Celeste had passed along to her son, Bob. Miranda and Holly had Blythe’s less intense coloring, light brown hair and eyes. Celeste wore a turquoise silk dress and a lime silk jacket. She wore her mother’s silver earrings and necklace. Blythe had seen pictures of Celeste when she was young, and she had been breathtaking. Even now, she hadn’t acquired too many old-age wrinkles and lines, but her skin was speckled with brown spots. They were not malignant, she had told her family, so she wasn’t going to bother with them. Her entire beauty regime was washing her face and smoothing on Pond’s Cold Cream.
Now Celeste rose from her chair to embrace her grandchildren, one by one. When they finally took their seats, the four children fought—in a quiet, pleasant way, to sit next to their grandmother. Miranda and Teddy, the oldest, won, but then Teddy took pity on his little sister and gave Holly his seat. He and Daphne were doomed to sit on either side of Blythe.
The waiter arrived and handed them menus. Before they could check the offerings, they were deluged by a wave of summer friends. Holly jumped up to talk with Carolyn, and Daphne left her chair to make a quick visit to Lincoln’s table. The other kids teased Daphne about having a boyfriend, but Lincoln, handsome as an angel, had come out a couple of years ago. Daphne had bonded with him over the problem of rising seas, and everyone hoped they would provide the solution. Teddy talked with his grandmother, and Blythe was left with Miranda, who had mastered the blank fifty-yard stare.
Celeste and Blythe each ordered champagne, as they always did the first meal of summer.
“And for you?” The waiter smiled at Miranda. He was tall, handsome, and tanned, with a strong Southern accent.
“Maybe a glass of tonic over ice?” Miranda was implying, Blythe knew, that her usual tonic drink had gin in it.
“Of course,” the waiter said, smiling.
For a few seconds, the waiter and Miranda locked eyes.
Bless you, Andrew, Blythe wanted to say, because if Miranda could flirt with Andrew, whose name and town were printed on a white club label on his jacket, then Miranda wasn’t completely obsessed with Brooks.
“So, Andrew, you’re from Charleston,” Blythe said.
“Yes, ma’am, I attended UVA and I’m going into their business master’s program.”
Blythe said, “That’s impressive.”
“Thank you. I’ll be right back with your drinks.”
“Mom,” Miranda whispered. “I don’t need you to find guys for me. I’m with Brooks, remember?”
“Miranda, I’ve always talked with the summer staff. I want them to feel at home.”
“Find one who’ll feel at home with Daphne,” Miranda muttered.
Holly and Daphne returned to the table in time to give Andrew their orders and then Daphne shared the latest news from Lincoln about the various storms that had flooded the island. Friends in Polpis, on the inner harbor, had had water up to the decks of their summer cottages. Not for the first time, boys had paddled kayaks down some of the streets in town. Blythe shared what she’d read in various island newsletters about possible solutions, and there had to be solutions because, if not, so many of the town’s structures were doomed to become submerged, slowly, but absolutely. Because the yacht club was on the water—of course it was, that was the purpose of the yacht club—this was a problem of monumental importance. All four children talked at once, offering their visions of a deluged and ruined Main Street and what the town ought to do to prevent this.
“It is happening sooner than we think,” Celeste told them. “I belong to a committee exploring various possibilities for saving the town. Unfortunately, there are many committees like ours, and none of us has a solution. I’m going to Boston for a few days in September to attend a conference on rising seas.”
“Cool,” Teddy said.
Celeste patted her mouth with her napkin, effectively hiding her smile, but her eyes danced with mischief. “I’ll be going with my new friend, Roland Wilson.”
All four children glanced at one another, unsure what to do with this information.
“Is his wife coming, too?” Daphne asked.
“Roland’s wife died a few years ago. She was a lovely woman.”
For a long moment, everyone was quiet, assessing this information.
Holly broke the silence. “Is he your boyfriend ?”
At that moment, Andrew arrived at the table. He set drinks before them all, then stood with his notepad. “May I ask who is signing tonight?”
“I am,” Celeste replied.
The table was hushed as Celeste signed the ticket. Andrew asked if they were ready to order.
“We are,” Blythe said, trying to give her children a moment to recover from their grandmother’s news—and needing a moment herself. Was Roland Wilson Celeste’s boyfriend? If so, what on earth did that mean?
Ordering took some time, because Daphne considered herself a vegetarian except for bacon, and Holly didn’t understand what bluefish paté was, and Teddy ordered scallops wrapped in bacon for an appetizer and salmon for his entrée, and Daphne added the scallops in bacon to her order but told everyone she felt guilty. Miranda wanted a dish that had no meat or pasta, because, she whispered to Blythe, she felt bloated, so finally she ordered three side dishes of vegetables, and added, at the last moment, the scallops wrapped in bacon, because as she said to Blythe, scallops had no calories. She didn’t mention the bacon. The dining room had three walls of long, wide windows overlooking the slope of lawn to the dock and the harbor. It was still light, so they could see the American flag and the yacht club burgee flying from the flagpole at the end of the lawn. Only a few boats were moored in the harbor because it was June, and tonight the wind was calm, so the outside looked cool and serene compared to the warm buzzing conversation in the dining room.
Celeste was in a serious discussion with Holly about sea gerbils. Miranda was pretending to listen, which was good of her. Daphne and Teddy were discussing the cast of a new sci-fi show. Blythe leaned back in her chair and took a deep breath. They were here. They were all here, and no one had left her mouthguard or bathing suit back home, and how fortunate she was, to have an evening like this. As she glanced around the room, Blythe saw several summer friends, mothers who had children the same age as Blythe’s.
A handsome white-haired man wearing a navy blazer and white flannels approached the table.
Celeste sparkled. “Roland! How nice to see you.” Reaching out, she took his hand.
“Everyone, this is my friend Roland.”
Introductions were made with all the children, and under the table Daphne knocked her knee against Blythe’s knee and wiggled her eyebrows at her mother.
“Can you join us?” Celeste asked Roland.
Daphne bugged her eyes out at Blythe. The children considered this their night with their grandmother.
“I wish I could, but I’m here with Henry Manning, and I’d rather not leave him alone. But some other time, I hope.” Roland smiled at Blythe.
“It’s lovely to meet you, Roland,” Blythe said. “I hope we see you again soon.”
Daphne knocked her knee against Blythe’s again.
As soon as Roland had walked off, Holly said, “He’s cute, Grandmother!”
Celeste twinkled a bit. “I certainly think so.”
As her children gabbled away with each other about their grandmother’s friend, Blythe reminded herself that her life was full. She was happy, and aware that now was the time for her to let her children grow up while keeping them safe. She didn’t have to have a boyfriend as well. Still…
“Madam?”
Blythe looked up. The gorgeous Andrew was bending toward her, a dinner plate in his hand.
“Oh, thank you.” Blythe leaned back so that he could place the plate in front of her.
She’d been distracted from the bright, buzzing world she was living in, and she wanted to “be here now.” They were on Nantucket. Tonight was the beginning of summer.
“Mmm,” Celeste hummed. “This looks delicious. Bon appétit, everyone.”
The dining room, especially Blythe’s table, grew quiet when the meals were served. Tender filet mignon, delicate cod, risotto with carrots, green beans, and broccoli for the vegetarians, salmon with a mint sauce. Ernest, the club’s chef, was adept and obsessive and his meals made the diners moan appreciatively. Other clubs in the country had tried to steal him, but he was loyal and had been the yacht club chef for nine years. Bob and his friends used to joke that they all hoped they died before Ernest did.
Holly interrupted her meal to ask, “Grandmother, is Roland Wilson your boyfriend?”
Celeste smiled mischievously. “Darling, I think I’m far too old to have a boyfriend. ”
Daphne, who would probably be a lawyer like her father, asked, “Well, then is Roland Wilson your lover ?”
Holly giggled with surprise. “Daphne!”
Miranda’s head whipped toward Blythe to see if she would correct Daphne. Teddy stared at his older sister with wide eyes. Daphne held her head high. Blythe wondered if she should say something or let Celeste handle it.
Celeste smiled calmly at Daphne, but her eyes were sharp. “I’m not certain that’s a question I’m obligated to answer.”
Daphne was like a terrier. “I’ve actually spent some time trying to find synonyms for the word ‘boyfriend’ and the most appropriate ones are ‘suitor’ and ‘beau,’ which I think are outdated. The other suggestion is ‘escort,’ which I think has tasteless connotations. Is there a word you would prefer I use?”
Blythe shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She didn’t think Daphne was being insolent, but she was overstepping the line, some invisible, unwritten line, with her grandmother.
“Why don’t we simply call Roland my friend,” Celeste said gently, and returned to her plate.
The rest of the meal passed without incident, and after dessert, the four children were allowed to leave the table and roam the club, finding friends from last year.
Blythe took her coffee and moved to sit next to her ex-mother-in-law.
“I feel like I should apologize for Daphne’s rudeness.”
Celeste set her cup of cappuccino back in the saucer. “I don’t think she was being rude. I do think she’s being influenced by Teri.”
An unexpected kind of happiness flowered inside Blythe. Celeste rarely criticized her son’s new partner.
“Really? In what way?”
“Oh, she doesn’t mean to do it on purpose. I think it’s just that Teri is younger and this is the vernacular of her age group. Once ‘fuck’ became a commonplace term, other words followed. And Daphne made a good point. She is sharp and she has done what you might call her due diligence.”
Blythe stirred her coffee, thinking. “Daphne is smart. Her grades are amazing. I haven’t been worried about her. She’s so interested in marine biology. I didn’t even think she might be aware of words like ‘lover . ’?”
“Blythe, darling, Daphne is fifteen. She probably knows more about sex than we do.” When Blythe looked shocked, Celeste added, “I don’t mean she’s had more sex. I mean she’s read about it, seen it in movies, on the internet, on TikTok. You can google anything these days.”
“Still…” Blythe’s mind struggled to understand Celeste’s statement. “What should I do? Am I hopelessly old-fashioned?”
“Not hopelessly so,” Celeste replied. “But if you are old-fashioned, don’t change. You have your standards. I’ve always admired you for that. Not buying sugary cereal for the children’s breakfast. Not letting each child have a television in his or her room, like many other parents do. And so on.”
Blythe chuckled. “Now they have laptops and phones. Who knows what they’re watching while I’m driving.”
For twenty years, Blythe had maintained a cordial relationship with Celeste. The older woman had been welcoming when Bob brought Blythe home that first time and as the years passed, they had entered into a true friendship. Celeste had been generous, helpful, and kind while never once interfering in Blythe’s parenting decisions. That was rare, Blythe’s friends told her. One friend’s mother-in-law was upset because she was nursing her babies. Another one’s mother-in-law was upset because she wasn’t nursing her babies. One woman was upset because her daughter-in-law had only two children. Another was angry because her daughter-in-law had too many children.
Blythe knew she was lucky in the mother-in-law sweepstakes. Last year, Celeste had surgery and needed assistance as she recovered. Her husband had died the year before, so Celeste was alone. Blythe had left the children with Bob and spent a week on the island, helping Celeste gradually return to her normal strength and energy. During those days and nights, Blythe and Celeste had talked, shared secrets, laughed and cried together. During those days and nights, Blythe and Celeste weren’t in-laws, they were two women, with secrets and sorrows and joy and hope.
Three years ago, when Bob and Blythe had sat together with Celeste and Robert and told them they were divorcing, Bob’s parents had been surprised and confused.
Bob’s father had asked his son, “Is there another woman?”
Bob smiled, sounding cocky when he answered. “Not yet.”
Robert had flushed scarlet. “This is not a situation to take lightly.”
Blythe had rushed in to smooth the troubled waters. “Robert, Bob and I are not unfaithful to each other. We’re simply…aware that we have changed, and we want different things in life.”
“That’s selfish,” Robert barked. “You’re not thinking of your children.”
“Actually, we are, Dad.”
Blythe came to her husband’s defense. “It’s true. We think our children will be happier when we’re happy. When we’re really alive.”
Celeste’s response had been a gift. “Robert. Remember how you always wished your parents had been divorced instead of being miserable together all their lives?”
“That was different,” Bob’s father pointed out. “Mother was a hypochondriac and Father was an alcoholic.”
“Darling, things change.” Celeste reached over to pat her husband’s hand.
“Things always change,” Robert grumbled.
Later, Blythe called her parents in Arizona to break the news.
“The divorce rate in the United States is about forty percent,” her father told her. “I’m not surprised.”
Her mother asked, “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”
“I’m fine,” Blythe answered. “I’m better than fine.”
Bob moved out of the house. Blythe watched and listened to her children carefully, trying to ease the shock of the change. The older ones had friends with divorced parents and took it in their stride, but Holly was sad and confused, and Blythe asked Bob if he could spend some special time with their youngest child. When Bob introduced them to his new friend Teri, they shamelessly bought the children’s affections by giving them each the newest computer game or iPhone. After a few weeks, Blythe invited Bob and Teri to the house for a drink before the new couple took the four children out to dinner. The three adults sat in the living room drinking white wine and discussing the weather, the Red Sox, and the current British royal family scandal. It had been a tense but pleasant meeting, and the children gaped at the adults as if they were a new specimen from a lab.
Two years ago, Bob’s father died suddenly. Bob and Blythe took turns flying to Nantucket to help Celeste. For the memorial service, Bob and Blythe attended together with their children. For the next few months, Bob went to the island to help his mother with estate matters, although his father had, not surprisingly, taken care to be clear and specific with his will.
After that, when Bob returned to his life with Teri, Blythe invited Celeste to stay with her and the children for a week or two. During that week, Blythe and Celeste hadn’t talked about Bob and Teri, just enjoyed each other’s company. But the night before Celeste returned to Nantucket, after all the children were in bed and asleep, Celeste sat at the kitchen table with Blythe sipping Irish coffees.
“You know,” Celeste had said, “I’m going to have to be nice to Teri.”
The alcohol in the coffee was making Blythe maudlin. “I’m no longer your daughter-in-law.”
“No,” Celeste had agreed. “But you are now the friend of my heart.”
“Oh, that’s lovely.” Blythe tried to sniff back her tears.
“I’m also the grandmother of your children just as you are the mother of my grandchildren,” Celeste had reminded Blythe.