Page 15 of A Nantucket Wedding

What she heard wasHaven’t you ever needed before?She was speechless.

“Here. Let me show you.” Ethan stood behind her, placed his hands on top of her hands, and began to knead. “Like this.”

His body touched hers now, as he pushed and pulled the dough so that it became more elastic. Jane could feel his breath against her hair, his chest against her shoulders.

“Okay,” Ethan said. “Now you do it.”

He moved away from her. She knew she should be glad and maybe in some faraway corner of her rational mind she was, but her body yearned for him to return. Forcing herself to pay attention to the bread, she kneaded and folded and kneaded and folded again.

“It’s getting silky,” she said.

“Good. I’ve greased this bowl. Put the dough in and turn it so that it’s got grease on all sides. Then we’ll cover it with a dish towel and let it rise.”

She had to move next to him as she lifted the yielding dough into her hands and placed it inside the bowl. It was so quiet in the room she could hear her breathing, and his, and she realized his breath was coming fast, and hearing it was such an intimate thing that her entire body blazed.

“There,” she said. Her voice was shaking. Her face was glowing. She found the courage to look at him and ask, “So, now what?”

His gaze was intense. “Now we wait.”

“How long will that take?”

“About an hour or two. I’ll turn it out and knead it one more time. When you all return from lunch, we can shape it into loaves and put it in the oven.”

“Oh. Oh, okay. I’ll…” Her voice was hoarse. Her mind, her brilliant legal mind, was a puddle of melted chocolate.

“How should we pass the time?” Ethan put his hand on her arm, pulling her closer to him.

“I’m afraid that what I would like to do and what I ought to do are different,” she said, her voice trembling.

“Such a lawyer,” Ethan teased, and he pulled her hard against him. He cupped her head in his hand and brought his mouth down to hers. His breath smelled like coffee and cinnamon.

He drew back, gazing into her eyes. “I want to take you to bed.”

“I want that, too,” Jane told him. “But I can’t. This is crazy.” Pushing away from him, she said, “I love my husband.”

“And yet you’d like it if I kissed you again?” Ethan asked.

“Yes,” she answered honestly.

But when he moved toward her she backed away, hitting her arm on the stove. “No. No, I can’t. I’m going to go shower…”

She turned and hurried from the room.

In the privacy of her bedroom, she forced her body through her daily yoga routine.This is good,she thought as she stretched. This was what she needed. Her routine. Being away from home, away from the familiar, had unanchored her.

She loved Scott. Truly. That crazy moment with Ethan was simply displaced lust for something else. She had to talk to Scott again, to make him understand how a child would make their marriage even stronger. She didn’t need to have sex with another man. She needed to have a baby, Scott’s baby. She would make him realize this tomorrow evening, when she was home.

six

It seemed absolutely perfect, even necessary, for the three women to drive to the Wauwinet in Jane’s rented Mini Cooper convertible. Alison sat in the passenger seat, loving the sun on her face and the wind in her hair, as Jane drove along winding Polpis Road.

In the back, Felicity was pouting. When Alison had picked up Felicity after her massage, she’d pointed out that Felicity’s skin was still oily and her dress was clinging to her. Alison suggested that she run the sundress through the wash while Felicity took a quick shower and put on one of Alison’s floaty summer dresses.

Felicity was insulted. She said Alison didn’t approve of Felicity’s clothes, didn’t think her clothes weregood enoughto wear to lunch at that posh place. Her mother had never understood Felicity’s commitment to living a life centered around saving the environment! After her shower, however, she’d slipped on one of the sundresses, a loose crinkle cotton in azure which Felicity refused to admit looked lovely even though she couldn’t help staring at herself in the mirror. It was difficult, Alison knew, to be pulled between parent and spouse, and Felicity, more than Jane, had always been the child who wanted peace and friendship among everyone she knew. Alison suspected Felicity was trying not to feel guilty about loving this dress.

On the other hand, behind the steering wheel, Jane was practically shining with delight. If Alison didn’t know better, she’d think her older daughter was on some kind of drug. Jane wore an expression of bliss on her face, and Alison didn’t think it was caused by the scenery.

“You’re in a good mood today,” Alison observed.

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