Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Saturday morning, bright and early, Peter and Ada woke up at the crack of dawn, shared a quiet hour of coffee, crosswords, and reading, then burst up the stairs to wake their kids.
Ada felt as though they were all in their teenage years, all five of them, celebrating life and adventure.
With their fists on the door and the house erupting with their children’s groans, Ada and Peter wore enormous smiles.
“We know! We torture you! It’s awful!” Peter cried as Olivia came out of her room and leaped on his back like a monkey.
Before long, pancakes were on the griddle, syrup oozing over the stacks.
Bruce Springsteen played on the radio, and Ada and Peter sang along at the top of their lungs.
Hannah, Olivia, and Kade were still in their pajamas.
Still, the sunlight that came through the kitchen curtains illuminated everything, making their laughter louder and causing them to eat faster and want more.
“Why is everyone in such a good mood today?” Kade demanded, looking sheepish.
“Is that such a bad thing? To have a happy family?” Ada asked, dropping another pancake on his plate.
“It’s just weird,” Kade said, grinning.
“You’re weird!” Olivia cried, stealing a pancake off his stack.
“Hey!” Kade stole it back, and it disintegrated into seven pieces, which he and Olivia shared, getting the table and their fingers sticky. Ada didn’t care.
Peter announced that they were going sailing, after which they’d go shopping and go out to eat. “Everyone needs new clothes,” he said. “You’re growing too fast. You’re going to break the bank!”
“I need clothes for college,” Hannah reminded them, her voice stiff. Fear shimmered in her eyes.
“We’ve decided, honey,” Peter said playfully. “We’re not going to send you to college. We’re going to keep you here with us.”
Hannah rolled her eyes into a giggle. “Yeah, right.”
“You think we’re joking?” Peter looked at Ada, who made a stern face.
“We need you here!” Ada said. “There’s no way around it. Vassar can’t have you.”
Hannah took another piece of bacon and ate it, smiling in a way that reminded Ada of what she’d looked like when she was little: giggly and always singing songs. Her parents had been her favorite people in the world.
By ten thirty that morning, the Bushner family was on the open seas, sweeping through the turquoise waters, their faces bright with smiles.
A massive picnic was tucked away in the fridge below deck, but they needed to work up an appetite first. As Kade helped his father with the ropes, Ada took numerous photographs, floored at how adult her son looked.
Was it possible that he’d grown another inch in the past two weeks?
Olivia was eager to swim, but they reminded her it was too early in the season and probably frigid. They didn’t have wetsuits.
“I don’t care!” Olivia cried. “I want to!”
Eventually, they stopped the boat a little ways off a soft, sweeping white beach, where they dropped anchor and told Olivia she could jump in whenever.
The sun was warm, and the air was almost eighty degrees.
Because it was past noon, Peter poured himself and Ada the smallest glasses of champagne, sat beside her, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
Hannah decided to join Olivia on her mad campaign and changed into a swimsuit.
Soon, they were at the tip of the bow, holding hands, counting to three.
“I’m scared!” Hannah cried.
But Olivia wasn’t. When they reached three, Olivia leaped, leaving Hannah on the boat.
When Olivia crashed into the water, Kade called Hannah a chicken, so Hannah went in, too, howling before she disappeared.
During the few seconds before the girls came up, Ada’s heart thudded with fear.
So many things could go wrong when it came to water. Even Kade looked nervous.
Ada flinched, unsure if she should jump in after her daughters. But beside her, Peter was even-keel, sipping his champagne.
When the girls came up a second later, they were laughing and complaining about how cold it was, predictably.
As fast as they could, they climbed the ladder.
Ada got up to wrap them in warm, fuzzy towels and get lunch out.
Peter was pouring himself another glass of champagne and discussing something with Kade about school.
Ada was fairly certain the topic was the running club, which Kade had taken a liking to, and Peter was pleased about it.
Both Hannah and Olivia were shivering like crazy, but Ada knew it would stop.
When everyone had a plate of salad and tiny fish sandwiches and creamy potato salad, Peter raised his glass of champagne. “I’m so grateful to have my family together today.”
“Don’t be cheesy, Dad,” Hannah beamed at him.
“Let me be cheesy if I want to!” Peter cried, looking bashful. “The four of you are more than I could ever ask for. You make me all starry-eyed, for crying out loud.”
Immediately, it was like a needle went through Ada’s heart. Her children laughed at their father, calling him lame. But Ada was busy, her mind racing, trying and failing to remember where she’d heard that phrase before. You make me all starry-eyed.
“What is that from?” she asked when the kids started talking among themselves and trading snacks.
Peter raised his shoulders. “I don’t know. Me, I guess?”
“But it’s from a movie or something,” Ada said, narrowing her eyes. “You make me all starry-eyed? Is it from a show? A meme, maybe?”
“You know I don’t know anything about memes,” Peter said. “I’m forty-six years old.”
Ada’s heart thumped with adrenaline. Slowly, without tasting it, she ate her sandwich, then set aside her salad and watched the water.
Her children and husband spoke exuberantly, swapping topics and eating the chips she’d lovingly packed.
But something about the afternoon had begun to bother her, as though she were getting a pimple on her cheek and couldn’t stop it.
Once, Peter asked her what was wrong, and she shook her head. “I’m just having a nice time. Just listening to the people I love laugh and talk.”
But her stomach was thrashing with pain. She was grateful when Peter suggested they pack it in and sail back to the harbor.
That afternoon, Peter and Ada took the kids to a few shops near the docks, where Kade, Olivia, and Hannah tried on everything from Levi’s jeans to trendy shoes to outrageous hats.
They cracked up, teasing each other and throwing new items behind the dressing room door.
Peter hand-selected a leather jacket for Kade, who tried it on and looked ten years older.
“Absolutely not!” Ada cried, terrified of the passage of time.
“But Mom, it’s cool,” Kade said.
“Is it?” Ada looked at Hannah for support.
Hannah shrugged. “Yeah, Mom. It’s cool.”
Ada sighed and got in line to pay for the jacket, eyeing Peter as Peter said, “All the girls will go crazy for you, buddy. You should have seen the leather jacket I was wearing when I met your mom.”
As Ada handed over her credit card, she was overwhelmed with an image of Peter in his early twenties, wearing that gorgeous vintage leather jacket, carrying bouquets to Ada’s dressing room.
She’d loved not giving him the time of day!
She’d loved the feeling of him following her everywhere she went, eager to do anything to “win” her.
“You made me all starry-eyed,” she said to Peter as she handed the leather jacket to Kade.
Peter’s smile dimmed. “You taking my line?”
“I guess so,” she said. “What’s yours is mine, right? That’s marriage.”
Peter kissed her on the cheek and led his family back out toward the parking lot near the docks, where they packed up their newly purchased items and, eventually, made their way to a seafood restaurant for mussels and french fries. It was a day of decadence.
Still, something about it felt wrong to Ada, like she kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.
But it wasn’t till later that night, when the five of them were cozied up on the sofa, watching a brand-new movie and eating popcorn (it was like they were all bottomless pits), that Ada remembered where she’d heard the line: You make me all starry-eyed.
She got to her feet, worried she was about to have an aneurysm or choke.
When she reached the kitchen, she filled a glass with water and sat down.
In the living room, Peter and her children were laughing at the movie joyously, as though their lives hadn’t changed forever.
But had their lives really changed forever? Was Ada making things up?
It was possible.
Don’t overthink this, Ada.
She took to the internet, typing in the phrase: “You make me all starry-eyed.” However, there were no results to suggest that it was a common phrase. Her pulse quickened. Maybe that didn’t mean anything. Perhaps it was something new people were saying, or maybe it was a coincidence.
Maybe whoever Katrina was dating was similar to Peter. Perhaps they even knew one another and had each heard the other say it, separately. Maybe they’d met at the bar during one of Peter’s game nights.
However, Katrina had mentioned that her boyfriend was divorced and had children. That didn’t mean anything. Peter wasn’t divorced! He was with me! Peter was in love and had always been in love!
Ada’s head felt dented. Sweat bubbled on the back of her neck.
After nearly fifteen minutes of Ada sitting alone in the kitchen, Hannah called from the sofa to see if Ada was all right.
Ada managed to say, “I’m fine, honey! I don’t, um.
Feel so well.” It was true. She needed to get up, go back to the sofa, and pretend everything was all right. But she thought she might throw up.
Soon, Hannah appeared, pouring Ada another glass of water and fetching her a few painkillers from the top shelf. Her eyes were caring, similar to Ada’s when she was eager to help her children. “Did something happen?” Hannah asked. “Did you eat something weird? The fish?”