The High Season

  “No.” Not true. She’d have to go through a tedious debrief with Catha.

  “Good girl.”

  She hated his condescension but she wanted his approval, a condition she often found herself in with older men. At Sag Harbor she directed him to the ferry that would take them to Shelter Island, then drove across the island to the ferry that would take them to the North Fork.

  “This is a stupid system,” he said. “Incredibly inefficient.”

  “Two different ferry companies.”

  “So you wait on a line, take a ferry for five minutes, drive across an island, wait again, another five minutes across the water. It takes an hour to get to a place when it should take ten minutes. Insane.”

  “That’s the point. Keeps it the way it is.”

  “Yeah, well, even hellholes on the planet know about bridges.”

  He drove through Greenport, looking at everything.

  “What a dump,” he said.

  “We actually like not living in a Madison Avenue facsimile.”

  “Hey, I’m not criticizing. I like the country. It has so much room for development.” He grinned at her eye-roll. “No, seriously, this place has what I like. Vineyards. Nice views. When it comes to water, you just need the view, maybe a dock if you’ve got a boat, right? Nobody goes in the ocean in East Hampton. We just look at it. We’re packed with women who don’t want to get their hair wet.”

  “That’s so sexist.”

  “Darling, all men are sexist. Women, too.”

  “Sure. But women being sexist about men is just complaining. Men being sexist about women gets them places.”

  “Everybody has an equal shot in this country.”

  “Do you really believe that? Didn’t your father finance your first business?”

  “Father’s money, a loan from a bank, what’s the difference? I made the rest.” They were driving out of Greenport now, heading toward East Marion. “This is a town? Obviously this place isn’t maximized.”

  “I’m telling you, most people don’t want maximized here.”

  “Everybody wants to make money. You think these people don’t want their houses to appreciate? They all want to retire to the Carolinas, send their kids to good schools.”

  They hit the causeway. “This is a decent view,” he said. “You need a hotel here.”

  She pointed to the Belfry ahead, visible from the main road, and he slowed down. “Excellent visibility,” he said. “And up on a rise, like a church. Is it walkable from the village?”

  “Easy walk.”

  When he pulled into the parking lot, he unbuckled his seatbelt but didn’t move. He looked at the building for a while. “Not bad,” he said. “Good bones. Farm vernacular. I like that. Is that the barn? Potential for sure. Dodge’s show was great, not enough people came.”

  Wait. She hadn’t told him about Dodge’s show.

  “Now that the median price is shooting up, the town is changing. Dodge’s show, that one with May Werlin, shows like that—they need an audience. What’s the most expensive house for sale here?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Ten million. You know Nate Billows? He just bought it. Hedge fund guy. It’s just starting.”

  Things fell into place. “You knew all the answers about the Belfry last night,” Doe said. “You just wanted me to say them in front of Lark.”

  “Did you know Ruth Beamish quit a few days ago?”

  “No,” Doe said, startled. She didn’t think it could happen that fast. “Why do you?”

  The front door of the museum flew open. Catha stalked out.

  “Who’s that?”

  “Catha Lugner. Deputy director.”

  “You like her?”

  “Do I have to?”

  Visibly upset, Catha jumped into her car and started the engine. She hit the gas and reversed without looking, straight into Daniel’s rear bumper.

  “What the fuck!” Daniel twisted the rearview mirror. “I think I bit my tongue!”

  “I’m fine, thanks,” Doe said, shouldering open the door.

  Catha stumbled out of her car. “Oh my God oh my God!” she wailed. “Shit!”

  Doe slammed the car door. “Catha? What was that?”

  Catha rubbed her cheek. “I don’t know! I didn’t see you! Shit! You’re in a red zone, you know!” Tears began spilling from her eyes. “I deserve this. I did terrible things! I deserve what I get.”

  “Chill, we’re not hurt,” Doe said. “What terrible things?”

  Catha glanced over. “Wait, that’s not your car. Who is that?”

  “Daniel Mantis. What did you mean, terrible things?”

  Color drained from her face. “Are you serious?” she whispered. “What are you doing with Daniel Mantis?” Catha tucked her hair behind her ears several times. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she whispered.

  Daniel exited the car. He strolled back to the rear bumper and inspected it. “Just a scratch,” he said.

  “Mr. Mantis, I’m so sorry,” Catha said. Her lips stretched over her teeth, trying and failing to swap warmth for panic. “I don’t know what to say. I had a moment of…inattention. My foot just…slipped. Naturally I’ll pay for any damage.”

  “Twenty-five thousand should do it,” Daniel said.

  “I…”

  “Relax, I’m kidding,” he said. “You were in quite a hurry.”

  “But this is actually great, I mean, not the car, but to meet you. I’m Catha Shand-Lugner. Acting director.”

  “What?” Doe asked.

  Mindy’s SUV drove in. She craned her neck, saw Daniel, and almost crashed into a tree.

  “You gals could use some driving lessons,” Daniel remarked.

  Mindy scrambled out of the car, all fluster and activated antiperspirant. “Daniel! You’re here! You’re naughty, not giving us notice!”

  Daniel knew Mindy?

  Doe watched the dance. Daniel in his shorts and sneakers, hands in his pockets, back on his heels, accepting the courtship. Mindy, groping for lines of flattery she could employ, and settling on seeing his “fabulous” house in Architectural Digest. They were listing toward him as though on the deck of a boat. They were so obvious, so bad at this. Would he like some coffee? Or juice? Mindy suggested. “Are you a juicer?” she asked in that way she had, injecting a jolly archness to her tone that only smelled like the left-out girl in middle school, desperate to be liked.

  Poor Mindy. Doe could almost feel sorry for her, if she didn’t also know what a complete bitch she was.

  “Do you have mangoes?” Daniel asked. Turning just a fraction, he winked at Doe.

  “I don’t know,” Catha said.

  “We could send someone out,” Mindy said. “Doe?”

  “Never mind. I’d love a tour, though,” Daniel said.

  “I’d be glad to do it,” Mindy said. “I was an art history major at Smith.”

  “Good for you.”

  Daniel turned companionably toward the entrance. Mindy gave a little skip to keep up with him.

  Doe’s phone buzzed, and she almost didn’t check it.

  But it was Lark.

  Just waking up and missing u

  U Doe

  I go to the U of Doe

  She felt the warm pleasant music of Lark’s morning, the slow waking, the texting, the sliding downstairs in a silk wrapper and bare feet, where chef James would be slicing a peach for her smoothie. Or a mango, if she wanted one. No doubt some specialty food store somewhere on the Hamptons would deliver one piece of fruit. She pictured it, perfect and plump, nestled in a little wooden box. For a princess with a taste for it.

  * * *

  —

  HE FOUND HER later, after the tour, after the glass of springwater, after the chat. He loomed over her desk
.

  “I’ll have your car driven over.”

  “Thanks.”

  He crouched down. Now they were eye level. Close enough where she saw how soft and pampered his skin was, with the plump tight look of injections. She pressed her knees together to stop herself from leaning back.

  “These people are idiots,” he said.

  “I know.”

  “The historic collection is a joke. Buttons. They should be auctioned, raise some money. They belong in a museum.”

  “This is a museum.”

  “Lark could be a change agent, isn’t that what you said?”

  “Yes. But I didn’t mean this. She wouldn’t want this. Did you meet with Mindy before this? Did you push Ruthie out?”

  “I had coffee with Mindy a few weeks ago. Weird smell. I know her parents a little. She said Ruthie was on her way out. I said, I have a very talented daughter. That was about the sum of it.”

  “Sure, if you don’t factor in your money. You pushed her out!”

  “Please. If a board president wants you out, start packing. And I’ve met your Ruthie, she’s hardly destitute. Hey,” he said, peering at her, “don’t be scared, little girl. You have a role here. But let’s keep this idea from Lark, shall we? Just for now.”

  “I can’t lie to Lark.”

  “Sure you can.” He looked around, down at his feet. “I hate this carpet,” he said. He jackknifed to his feet, smiling. “All I have to do is change it.”

  “The carpet?”

  “Everything.”

  37

  JEM’S PHONE

  Draft Folder

  From: Jemma Dutton

  To: Olivia Freeman

  Subject: apocalypse now and then

  When opossums sense danger, their nervous systems cause them to pass out and emit a foul odor.

  Do you remember how hard we laughed at opossum farts?

  I’m sitting here with laptop, thinking, I wish it was then right now. Or I wish it was last week, or yesterday right before I said yes.

  It was really hot yesterday. And the farm was super busy. This guy Lucas was texting me. The one I told you about. The god. Annie calls him Mr Sex McManPants. He sort of invited himself over for a swim. Mom was going out, Dad was picking me up for an overnight at nine, so why not a quick dip? And I got nervous, like, was this a date? That would be weird and skeevy. He’s got to be, like, twenty-two? So I asked Annie along.

  And then the weirdest thing happened. Meret and Saffy came to the farm stand and saw me talking to him and they were all, we’re best friends, right? They had already checked out his Instagram and they were totally on board. Like nothing had ever happened! And the next thing it was like, Hey, let’s all go and cool off.

  So at first I’m all chill, because I think, ok, nothing to see here, we’re all just going to swim, and Meret has gotten over her thing, so everything will be normalish again.

  So everybody is there, and Meret is just all over Lucas, I mean, rolling this cold water bottle around her chest, come on. I stay so far away from them I might as well have been in your backyard in whatever state you live in now. And Meret is kind of being a jerk (what do you mean, kind of? you are saying) and says things to Annie like “I like that suit, on you it works.” And I’m starting to think, This blows, why did I do this.

  Meret says, So what’s the big house like, and I say, It’s nice, and she’s all, So, let’s see it. I say, We can’t, we have the pool house to pee or change or whatever and there’s a fridge and everything. And Lucas says, But there’s no beer. Annie says, I don’t think we should, and then it’s like me and Annie against them, and Meret makes it seem that way, so what could I do. Annie sees this is not ending well and takes off. Because she is not an idiot.

  So I get the key. We go inside. We’d all put our clothes on after the swim, except for Lucas, but Meret is just wearing her bikini. Lucas drinks a beer, and Meret finds a bottle of wine and opens it. And you really have to wonder what he’s doing with high school kids, but nobody is thinking that, because he’s so beautiful and we’re all trying to act older.

  I’m the one trailing after everyone and saying things like “We should really go” and “Be careful with that.” I don’t want to be that person, but I am. But hey, you know what, it feels like whenever I’m with Meret I don’t want to be the person I’m being.

  Meret just keeps opening beers for Lucas, which was totally annoying. She pretends to get drunk. I know she’s not because I watch her. She’s always like this, she’ll say she’s dying for a cheeseburger and you go to the diner and order it and then watch her watch you eat yours while she eats a fry and says she’s so full. She doesn’t get drunk, she takes a few sips and the next day says, “OhmygodIwassodrunk.” And then tells you how everyone else humiliated themselves.

  She says, I have to pee, and she goes upstairs, and Lucas says he wants to see the house and goes up and after a few minutes of them not coming back down I’m like, I’m going up there no matter what. They’re picking up stuff on Carole’s dresser and looking at it and talking. Meret is wearing one of Carole’s hats. I tell her to put it back and Meret calls me a prison guard and rolls her eyes, and Lucas laughs, and now I’m really, really not having a good time.

  When we go downstairs again Meret starts a pillow fight with Saffy. So naturally they break a wineglass. And everybody laughs like crazy, that laugh that is all “Oh no, we’re so bad, isn’t it cool.”

  So finally that does it, I finally grow a pair and kick everybody out. Even Lucas because I’m so pissed. Then I spend the next hour getting the stain out of the rug and finding the wineglass pieces and basically dusting and cleaning and scrubbing and then I have to ride all over town to find a garbage can to toss the wine bottle and the broken glass. It was the worst day of my life forever.

  I don’t know, all this takes up so much space in my brain. Meanwhile my dad is so checked out. He’s in love, have I mentioned that? In loooooove. He says it doesn’t change a thing except now he’s really happy. It seems to me it changes everything.

  Lucas texts me and says he’s sorry about the glass and it was fun to see me without a cash register in front of me. Wtf. The farm stand doesn’t even use cash registers.

  I’m still mad so I text back whatever.

  And he gets it. He texts back that he really meant the apology. He says: I hate emojis. But if I had to design one right now it would be an exploding star of sorry.

  And so I forgive him, because it really was all Meret’s fault mostly. And because an exploding star of sorry is so cool. You know what, Ollie? He’s sorta sad. I know what that emoji means because I feel that way literally all the time. That star is in my pocket every day.

  xojem

  38

  THE WATCH WAS GONE.

  She’d left it on Carole’s dresser.

  Hadn’t she?

  She raced through the big house. Then the playhouse. Under furniture, on the tops of tables, under sofas. Nowhere. It had tumbled into the black hole of missing things, single earrings, stones out of rings, buttons, socks.

  It couldn’t be just…gone.

  She sat in Jem’s room, surrounded by pink toile. For the first time she realized that it was made up of Alice in Wonderland imagery. Poor Alice, trying to hit a croquet ball with a flamingo. Poor Alice, down the rabbit hole, and having to make sense out of nonsense. She’d never liked Alice in Wonderland as a child. It had made her feel queasy to think of a world without rules.

  What kind of an idiot criminal loses the loot? Had she left it on the dresser, or had she worn it again and just thought she put it on the dresser?

  She heard Jem’s step and a moment later she swung in, a little rushed, a little distracted. “Sweetie, have you seen a watch lying around?”

  “You don’t wear a watch.”

&n
bsp; “I mean, just, a watch. Have you been in Carole’s house?”

  “Why would I go in Carole’s house?”

  “I’m just asking. I’m missing something. I left it there.”

  Jem had her head in the closet. “Where?”

  “On Carole’s dresser. I think.”

  “I haven’t seen a watch.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Is this an interrogation?” She tossed a sweater on the bed, light and soft, in a shade of blue that was close to the color of her eyes.

  “That’s pretty,” Ruthie said. She crossed to pick it up. She read the label. Isabel Marant. “Where did you get this?”

  “More questions!” Jem’s mood had shifted to defensive. “Adeline bought it for me a while ago. That time we went to East Hampton for lunch with Roberta. I was cold. She went next door and bought me a sweater.”

  “She bought you a designer sweater because you were cold?”

  “It was no big deal!”

  “It’s got to be two hundred, three hundred dollars. It’s a pretty big deal!”

  “Not to her. It’s like a Gap sweater to her. What was I supposed to do, say no?”

  “We haven’t really talked much about her,” Ruthie said. “I mean, you and me. I guess you’ve talked to Daddy.”

  “Yeah. We had a chat.”

  “What did he say?”

  “That he hoped that I didn’t think that you two were getting back together. Which I didn’t, duh. And he said we have to give you room to adjust and everything? But that it will all work out in the end. Daddy says since you lost your job, you need time, but if Adeline bought the house it would solve things. Like, you’d have money. And there would still be the house in the family.”

  “In the family?”

  “That’s what he said.”

  “Adeline’s not family.”

  “Well.” Jem slipped her arms into the sweater. “That’s what he said.”

  39

  THE AIR WAS full of water and Ruthie was drowning. Humid day had followed humid day. Floorboards swelled. Dogs panted. The water settled into Ruthie’s bones. She felt a tug like a current, sweeping her toward Joe, and it took all her will to resist it. She yearned for him. She could feel the word, yearn, like the plucking of a string.