Chapter 14 #2
“I told them what I’ll tell you,” Benjamin said.
“I’d do anything to protect my son. The court of public opinion is terrifying.
I knew that once they pinned the blame on me, they’d move on to other stories.
They wouldn’t care anymore. Everyone thinks I’m a corrupt old man anyhow.
I gave them the story they wanted to hear. ”
Francesca was touched that her husband had given away the last shred of his positive public legacy to save his son’s.
“And everyone thinks I should be dead, anyway,” Benjamin said.
Francesca parted her lips to say, "Tell me why you did it.
" But, suddenly frightened and overwhelmed with hunger, she reached for the cheese plate, put a slab of camembert on a cracker, and bit down. As usual, Benjamin’s taste in fine things was exquisite, and she closed her eyes as the stinky and creamy flavor fell over her tongue.
Had Benjamin been off somewhere all this time, eating nice cheese plates and hiding from the world?
“But Alexander wants to take a leave of absence to work on the Lodge anyway,” Benjamin continued, “which thrills me to no end. You remember how desperate he was to get out from under the shadow of this old place. Now, I’m daring to think of Alexander’s son Xander Whitmore as the next heir to this place. ”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Whitmore,” Francesca said, squinting at him.
“Nobody should be locked into this place who doesn’t want to be.
” She certainly remembered how quickly Alexander had fled the Lodge and moved to Key West with Janie.
Francesca didn’t like to remember that it had been Benjamin and Francesca who’d threatened Alexander, who’d told him that his inheritance would be zilch if he didn’t come home.
Of course, Janie’s pregnancy and miscarriage colored that intense and miserable time.
It hadn’t been so very long before the fire.
It hadn’t been so long before everything fell apart.
“Benjamin,” Francesca began, realizing that she needed to know something else so desperately that it had to be addressed right now. “Benjamin, have you heard from him?”
Benjamin took a sharp breath and met her gaze. She didn’t have to say the name “Jack” for him to know precisely who she meant: the only child she hadn’t heard from, the child who’d been presumed dead after the fire, the child who’d been closest with his Tio Angelo.
“You know where he is,” Francesca insisted, her heartbeat escalating.
“You know what happened to him that night and every night since. Don’t you?
” She needed Benjamin to say that, since 1998, he’d been instrumental in ensuring that Jack was healthy, safe, and all right.
She needed him to give her an itemized list of all the ways he’d helped Jack through the years.
The last child we ever had together, Francesca remembered, picturing Benjamin holding infant Jack at the hospital.
Our last great hope for a brand-new love.
Because back then, they’d had Alexander, Lorelei, and Allegra to contend with, but they’d also had Charlotte, proof of Benjamin’s horror and Francesca’s transgression.
Jack was all theirs, a baby for a new day.
Something about Benjamin’s face told Francesca that he knew precisely where Jack was.
All he would have to do was point her in a direction, and she’d find him.
She burned to know. She reached across the picnic table and touched Benjamin’s shoulder, an act of tenderness that yanked them both back through time. Benjamin dropped several tears.
But before Benjamin found the energy to tell her Jack’s whereabouts and what had happened to him since 1998 (presuming he knew), there was the sound of a child’s euphoric cry.
Francesca turned to see two kids, around nine or ten, rushing headlong across the grounds toward the beach.
When they realized Benjamin wasn’t far, they diverted and cried out, “Grandpa! Grandpa!” before leaping on his lap and nearly spilling his wine.
Francesca made a quick calculation because these kids were on the younger side, she reasoned they were Nina’s. It meant that they weren’t her grandchildren, not by blood. Probably, they’d met Chloe Essex already. Probably, they’d begun to call her Grandma, erasing Francesca from the timeline.
But when Francesca glanced up at them, they were already looking at her curiously.
“Hello,” said the boy. “My name is Will.”
“And I’m Fiona,” said the girl.
“Are you related to us?” Will asked.
Francesca felt a smile on her face. Before she could answer, Benjamin found the relevant words. “She is, kids. This is your grandmother. You haven’t met her before because she lives in Italy.”
“Italy!” Will cried. “Do you live in Rome?”
“I used to,” Francesca admitted. “I was a young woman then.”
“Your grandmother used to make films in Rome,” Benjamin said, bragging about a past that often didn’t feel like her own.
“Did you meet movie stars?” Fiona asked.
“She did,” Benjamin said. “She met all kinds of Italian movie stars, and she wrote scripts and studied film. She lived an amazing, star-studded life, and then she decided to give it all up to move to Nantucket with me.”
Fiona giggled, and Will threw his head back.
“Do you think she regrets it?” Benjamin asked the kids, although Francesca knew the question was meant for her alone.
“No!” Fiona cried. “Why would she regret it? Nantucket is paradise!”
When Benjamin’s eyes flickered back to Francesca’s, she swallowed the lump in her throat and widened her smile. “I think you’re right about that, Fiona,” she said. “How could I regret such a beautiful life?”
Not long after that, Nina and Charlotte joined them, filling up their own glasses of wine and beaming at Benjamin and Francesca, together again.
Nina looked stunning and sharp, and explained that she and her boyfriend, Amos, had woken up early that morning to meet with a tourism expert about getting the White Oak Lodge back on the map.
“Tourism has changed like crazy since the Lodge was a hopping spot,” Nina said. “I’m an anthropologist, so I can’t pretend to know much about marketing or tourism or money or anything like that. But I like the challenge.”
“We’re all enjoying the challenge,” Charlotte chimed in.
Benjamin beamed with pride. “I was thinking…” he began tentatively.
“Uh-oh,” Charlotte teased, digging her elbow into his arm. “What’s up this time?”
Benjamin laughed heartily. “So many of us are on the island, and there are portions of the Lodge nearly ready for use. We should have a little family party, something to celebrate a new era of the Whitmores.”
“Will there be cheese plates?” Charlotte teased.
Benjamin raised his glass. “Mark my words, girls and Will. There will be a whole lot more like this. We’ll eat and drink and dance the night away. Save the date.”