Can’t wait to see y’all too! I’m here waiting! Maritza pinged back.
“I’m exhausted,” Nick said in the taxi. “I got too much sun yesterday.”
“Yes, your face is really red. Be sure to drink a lot of water today. You can snooze on the plane, but I’m working. Unfortunately I’m on the job.”
“You don’t think it might be rude if I go back to sleep?”
“At this hour? No, sir, I do not. She’s not sensitive about things like that. Besides, she’s going to want to harangue about Ellen and Colette. If you’re sleeping, she’ll feel freer to speak.”
“Where are we staying?”
“The White Elephant.”
“I’ve stayed there before, but it was years ago.”
“Oh, really? With whom?”
“Oh, some little tart with big breasts. I can’t recall her name. Long time ago.”
Nick was looking out the window, but Olivia could tell by the back of his ears and his jaw that he was stifling a laugh.
“You know what, Nicholas Seymour?”
“Yes, my precious pet?”
“You’re lucky that I’m the kind of girl I am.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Another kind of woman would’ve shot you in the face for a whole lot less.”
“I count my blessings every day. And I love that hellcat streak of yours.”
He reached over and took her hand in his; then he leaned back against the probably germ-infested seat back, smiled, and closed his eyes. Olivia looked over at him, and in the brutally unforgiving early morning light of New Jersey, she saw all the wrinkles around his eyes and she loved every single one of them. Every single one.
They arrived at Teterboro and Maritza was standing by the check-in counter talking to a woman at the desk. When she saw Olivia and Nick, she stopped and hurried to greet them.
“Oh, hey! I’m so glad y’all made it!” She hugged Olivia and gave her two air kisses.
Muah! Muah!
“Good morning!” Olivia said, hugging her back.
“Wow! Somebody sure forgot their gosh darn sunscreen!” She said to Nick.
“Yes, thank you. Someone certainly did,” Nick replied.
He was smiling, but inside he was slightly annoyed. These kinds of remarks irritated Nick, and especially that morning, when Nick was clearly feeling the effects of too much sun. It wasn’t that Maritza was the kind of woman who took some schadenfreude in the suffering of others. She wasn’t like that at all. But there appeared to be no filter between her brain and tongue. Nick had a dull headache and felt slightly nauseated.
“Do we have any aspirin?” Nick asked.
“Of course!” Maritza said. “In one of the galley drawers on the plane.”
“Great,” Nick said. “Thank you.”
“Darling? Are you feeling ill?” Olivia said.
“I’m okay,” Nick said. “Two aspirins and a nap and I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
“Well, the pilots are already on board if y’all are ready?” Maritza said.
And as they had when they went to Necker Island, they boarded Bob’s gorgeous G650 and left the normal world behind.
There were two large vases of peonies on the end tables, and the plane smelled wonderful.
“Oh! What beautiful flowers!” Olivia said.
“Thank you! I just decided that when I’m not flying with Bob, I’d order flowers. Flowers make me happy,” Maritza said.
“They make me happy too!” Olivia said, wondering if they’d go flying through the air when the plane took off.
Nick took the aspirin from Maritza and headed for the back of the plane with a bottle of water.
“I’m just going to shut my eyes for twenty minutes,” Nick said. He settled himself in his seat, reclined the chair, and checked out.
“I love how men say I’m going to go to sleep now and ten seconds later they’re asleep. How does that work?” Maritza said, sitting in Bob’s designated seat.
“I don’t know, but it’s another one of those truisms about men that seem a little unfair to our gender,” Olivia said, taking the seat to Maritza’s left. “I can’t fall asleep until I’ve ticked off a mental checklist for what I need to do the next day.”
“Please! I haven’t slept through the night since Gladdie was born!”
“I’ll bet,” Olivia said.
They were quiet for a moment because bringing up Gladdie dredged up thoughts of Ellen, which naturally led to thoughts about Bob’s infidelity. As a result, a small dark cloud seeped in through the oval-shaped windows and throughout the cabin.
“I am very excited to see the house,” Olivia said to lighten the mood.
It worked. Maritza perked right up and became the epitome of the happy housewife, leaving Olivia to wonder about the contents of Maritza’s medicine cabinet.
“Oh!” she said brightly. “I think you’ll love it. The question is, will it be too much work to bring it back to its glory days?”
“I love old houses. What year was it built?”
“1900. Would you like coffee? After takeoff I can make us cappuccinos. We finally got the coffee maker installed.”
“Sure! I’d love to see how it works.”
Olivia thought, Wait a minute. Bob spent sixty-four and a half million dollars on his plane and his coffeepot was on back order? Priceless!
One of the pilots came out of the cockpit to move the flowers to a secure spot and to make sure they were buckled up. He said, “Flying time is about an hour and five minutes. There’s a squall around the Boston area, so we’ll divert easterly and take her up to forty-three thousand feet. You shouldn’t feel a thing.”
“Great!” Maritza said casually as though she’d been flying on private jets her entire life.
In minutes they were airborne. Olivia looked back at Nick. He was sawing logs. As soon as they reached cruising altitude she got up and went to the back of the plane. She carefully covered him with a light blanket because she knew sunstroke caused chills. She kissed his forehead and he didn’t flinch.
“Oh, dear! Is Nick’s snoring going to bother you? I can tell him to roll over on his side.” Olivia said.
“Heavens no! Let the man be! Bob snores so god-awful bad I make him sleep in another bedroom.” She was quiet for a moment. “That probably wasn’t the smartest idea I ever had.”
“Well? Who’s to say?” Olivia wasn’t picking up the thread on that topic. “All men snore, especially if they drink wine and eat red meat.”
“Well, now you’re talking about Bob’s religion!”
“Exactly! Tell me some more about the house,” Olivia said.
“I saw it with the broker and Bob last week. It’s pretty fabulous. There are eight bedrooms and eight full baths. I think it’s about ten thousand square feet. And there’s a guest cottage. But no swimming pool.”
“Really? No pool? How odd. When’s the last time it was renovated?”
“Not since 1991. So the kitchen is a disaster and the bathrooms aren’t great. But here’s the thing. It’s the view! It’s right on the harbor and it has a dock. That’s why Bob wants it.”
“He’d have a place to park his submarine!” Olivia said, knowing that this absurd conversation could start a civil war in some cultures.
“Right? And the location is perfect. It’s right at Brant Point. You’ll see.”
“Location is always the most important factor to consider. How big is the property?”
“Oh, heck. I don’t know. Maybe an acre or so.”
“So it’s manageable.”
“Yeah. If everything goes to hell in a handbasket, Bob could cut the grass.”
“Let’s hope we never see the day!” Olivia said, and laughed with her. “Let’s make some coffee.”
“Sure.”
They were about half an hour into the flight. They enjoyed their cappuccinos, and the aroma of the brewing coffee beans brought Nick back to the land of the living.
“What’s that
wonderful smell?” he said.
“We have a cup for you, darling! How’re you feeling?”
Nick stood and stretched, ran his hand through his hair, and said, “I feel perfectly well, thank you. And if I may say, I think a cup of whatever you ladies are savoring would make me feel even better.”
“Let me get it for you, Nick,” Maritza said. “Sometimes caffeine can be a miracle drug.”
“I heartily agree, Maritza,” Nick said and smiled, thinking, She’s pleasantly tolerable some of the time.
Maritza handed Nick his coffee and said, “So, Nick, you know you’re welcome to come with us to look at the house.”
“Well, thank you. I think, however, that I’d like to pay a visit to the Nantucket Shipwreck and Lifesaving Museum. Every time I’ve been to Nantucket the time gets away from me and then I don’t go. I’ve wanted to see it for some time. Nantucket has a fascinating maritime history, as I’m sure you know.”
“I do know that. I used to go there when I was just a little girl.”
“How nice! And of course, I’d like to drop into the Whaling Museum, if time permits.” He took a sip. “This is delicious! I already feel better!”
“You’re welcome! I have a car and a driver who can take you there. It’s off the beaten path.”
“And that is precisely why I never got there! Anyway, you ladies don’t have to worry about me. I know how to amuse myself.”
“Well, you can have the car all afternoon.”
“Why, thank you. I won’t be gone too long,” Nick said.
“Olivia and I can walk to the house I want her to see from the hotel. In fact our hotel is so close, it’s like my daddy used to say, you could spit on it in a good wind!”
“What a thought!” Olivia said. Spit? Not again! Olivia thought. Really?
“I know! Y’all, it looks like we’re going to be landing in a few minutes. We’d better buckle up!” Maritza said.
They all took the rules seriously, so they buckled their seat belts and raised the seat backs.
“So the plan is to check in, have lunch, go see the house, and go shopping. Drinks are at six at our hotel and dinner is at CRU at eight o’clock. How does that sound?”
“It sounds perfect!” Olivia said.
The plane landed so softly that Nick didn’t even realize they were on the ground. Olivia could tell he was dumbfounded by the look on his face.
And Maritza, who knew that Nick was a nervous flier, smiled and said, “Featherlight landings are a point of pride for our pilots. They know I really don’t like getting the fillings jiggled out of my teeth.”
“Well,” Nick said, “I used to think I was going to die in a plane crash, but now that I’ve flown in a helicopter and actually skippered a submarine, I’m no longer terrified.”
“Honey? When your number’s up, it’s up,” Maritza said, “and the chances of you crashing in our plane are zero.”
“Intellectually I understand, but you know these fears are never grounded in rational thought,” Nick said. “But I feel perfectly at ease on your plane. In fact I may have been cured!”
Headline in the New York Post: phobia cured by a G650! Olivia could see it in print. Maybe we should line up all the worrywarts and take them for a ride on Bob’s jet, Olivia thought.
They went through the tiny terminal with a snack bar and a gift shop and Maritza said, “Y’all remember that TV show called Wings?” She pointed to a picture of the cast of Wings hanging on the wall.
“I remember that show,” Olivia said. “I used to watch it late at night.”
“Well, they used the outside of this airport terminal as theirs. But they shot the interior shots out in Hollywood. Isn’t that fabulous?”
“No kidding,” Olivia said.
Nick said nothing, but Olivia could smell his wood burning. When they had checked into their hotel room, she said, “So, I take it that you’re not impressed that Wings was partially shot here?”
“Most definitely not,” Nick said. “This island used to be the whaling capital of the world.”
“I think I knew that. This is a nice room, don’t you think? Look, we have a water view!”
Nick stepped over to the window and looked. Then he grunted. “It’s beautiful. And did you know the first American female astronomer, Maria Mitchell, was born here and discovered a comet when she was only fifteen years old?”
“No, I did not. Just fifteen?”
“Yes, it’s a fact. And in 1820, Herman Melville was inspired to write Moby-Dick because of what happened to the whaleship Essex and her crew.”
“No kidding. Well, that’s impressive.”
“Yes, ma’am. I think so too. And in 1841, Frederick Douglass made his first antislavery speech right here on this island. Those stories ought to be on the walls of the terminal. Wings. Please.”
“You need to eat something. You’re cranky. Maybe there’s a Snickers in the minibar. Do you want me to look?”
“No, but I am starving. All I’m saying is please, let’s not trivialize this island. Give her her well-earned dignity.”
“You might need a Bloody Mary too.”
“I just might.”
Soon they were seated on the covered terrace reading over the menus, drinking their water, and picking at the breadbasket. The waiter placed a Bloody Mary in front of Nick, and Olivia and Maritza raised their mimosas in a toast. Nick lifted his glass.
“Mr. Seymour is about to become very agreeable. Cheers!”
“Cheers!” Maritza and Olivia said.
“What did that mean, Nick? Are you feeling disagreeable?” Maritza said.
“My sweet husband thinks pop culture is ruining the world.”
“Well, it is, to some degree anyway,” Maritza said.
“How do you see that happening?” Nick said.
Olivia got nervous and hoped that Nick wasn’t setting Maritza up to expose the fact that she didn’t understand what the term pop culture even meant.
“Well, all you have to do is turn on the television. The programs are all copies of each other. If Cheers worked, then why not try Friends? One took place in a bar and the other one had a coffee shop. And who cares anyway? And all this reality stuff? If The Real Housewives of New Jersey did well, why not have The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills and The Real Housewives of Atlanta? Those are some awful people just acting trashy. There’s hardly anything original, and what is original is garbage. Anyway, television’s terrible. It’s all stupid. Pretty much. I think I want the lobster salad. How about y’all?”
“I’m going to try a lobster roll,” Olivia said. “I like Downton Abbey.”
“Downton Abbey doesn’t count. That’s sacred.” Maritza said.
“And I’m going to have the fish tacos.” Nick took another sip of his Bloody Mary and looked at Maritza. “Even I like Downton Abbey. And I liked the first few seasons of Mad Men. But I agree with you. By and large, television serves a segment of this population with whom I do not identify, except for PBS and sometimes some other channels like National Geographic. And of course, we need CNN.”
“I like to watch the Olympics, especially the winter games,” Maritza said. “Anyway, who cares about pop culture? I can’t wait to show you the house, Olivia. If you love it half as much as I do, I’m going to ask Bob to buy it.”
Everyone around them was getting their food.
“Nick? Please tell our waiter we have an appointment.”
“Yes, dear,” Nick said and looked around for any of the waitstaff, who at that moment were not to be found. “Typical,” he said and stood. “I’ll be right back.”
Lunch was wrapped up within the next forty-five minutes, and Olivia and Maritza were soon saying good-bye to Nick.
“Have fun!” Olivia said and blew him a kiss.
Nick drove away with the driver and Maritza said, “Let’s go! It’s just right up the street.”
They walked the short distance to Easton Street, where the broker waited.
“This is one magnificent house, Maritza.” Olivia said.
It was a sprawling Nantucket shingled house with fully matured landscaping of deep blue and purple hydrangeas. The whole place—with its towering chimneys and covered porches and the sheer mass of it—screamed old Yankee wealth and New England tradition, but in an appropriately muffled voice.
“I know! Wait till you see the inside! Hey, Nicole!”
“Hi!” the broker called out. “Nice to see you again! Hi! I’m Nicole Bousquet,” she said, and shook hands with Olivia.
“Olivia Ritchie. Nice to meet you.”
Olivia wondered if Nicole would be earning the customary six percent.
“Well, let’s go inside,” Nicole said.
From the minute they stepped over the threshold, Olivia was transported. They were right on the water and there were water views from almost every single room. The was a beautiful graceful staircase, hand-painted floors in the foyer, and an enormous family room with French doors along an entire wall that opened to a deep and wide deck, which led to a rolling lawn down to the dock in the harbor. The floor plan was wonderful, so the rooms flowed easily. There was plenty of storage and plenty of space for a large family or an even larger party.
“You could have dinner for two hundred people here. No problem,” Olivia said.
“The owners have done that more than once,” Nicole said.
Avoiding the vulgar question about price, Olivia asked Nicole for a brochure, which would list the cost in addition to a lot of other information. She handed it to her. Twenty-six million. Olivia staggered for a moment. What made this old funky house worth so much money? In the city, that much could buy you a fabulous penthouse. Granted, there were some Manhattan properties listed for over a hundred million that were being snatched up by Russian oligarchs. But twenty-six million for a Nantucket cottage? She needed a moment to digest it.
They went through the kitchen and all over upstairs. Then they visited the guest cottage last. Olivia hated to admit it, but she was charmed to pieces.
“What do you think?” Maritza asked later over a glass of wine in the lobby while they waited for Nick.
“I think I’d like to see it again tomorrow morning if we have time.”
“I’m sure we can arrange that. But you know, your opinion is the one I value the most. Do you think Bob and I should buy it?”