Page 43 of A Nantucket Wedding

thirteen

Later that day, Alison made vodka tonics with slices of lime and glaciers of ice, and carried them into David’s study. The humid heat was unusual for the middle of June, making people cranky. The north side of their Boston apartment was shaded by an enormous maple tree, and with the curtains drawn and the air conditioner on, it was the coolest room in the house. They sat in club chairs on either side of the fireplace now decorated with a large vase of silk flowers.

“Thanks. This is exactly what I need,” David said.

“I know,” Alison agreed. “I’m not a fan of hot weather, no pun intended.”

“How was your meeting with Poppy?”

“We had a good conversation. She’s going to wear a pantsuit, in black, in keeping with you and Ethan.”

“Black on a woman? That sounds odd.”

“That’s only because we’re so old,” Alison teased. “Black is the chic new color in wedding attire these days.”

“As long as Poppy and you are happy, I’m good with it.” David took a long drink and relaxed into the cushions.

“Poppy did raise an issue with me,” Alison continued, shifting to get comfortable in her chair as she brought up an uncomfortable topic. “She’s concerned about how you’re going to change your will.”

David looked surprised. “She told you that?”

“Yes. In fact, when I said I hoped our families would be friends, she said that depended on how you change your will. She said that you think I’m fiscally irresponsible and that I’m causing you to be fiscally irresponsible, too.” To her surprise, Alison began to cry. “Oh, David, I hate saying all this, I feel like a grade-school tattletale. And you know I don’t care about money, I have money, not likeyourmoney, for sure, but I don’t want you to feel you have to leave me any money, because I don’t want to even think about you leaving me!”

David leaned over to take her hand. “Hey. It’s all right. I should have spoken with you before about this. I apologize. Poppy can be pigheaded, I know that, and that’s exactly why I told her I was going to change my will. I haven’t done it yet, but I told her I was going to, partly because it’s true and partly as a kind of kick in the butt. She’s got to learn to delegate, especially now that she’s going to have another baby. She takes too much on herself. She tends to think she’s the only one who can do anything right. I think that’s one reason Ethan has little to do with the company.”

“I understand what you’re saying, David, but this somehow leaves me caught in the middle. As long as Poppy thinks you’re leaving me more money than she thinks I should have, she’s going to dislike me for it, and my girls, too.”

To her shock, David put down his drink and paced the floor. “I should have seen this coming. Poppy is brilliant and ambitious, which makes her perfect for leading the company, but she’s conflated my will and our wedding. And I don’t like this. Not at all. She’s a clever girl, but not so clever she can manipulate me.”

Alarmed by his tone, Alison stood up. “David, calm down. And really, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Poppy told you that whether or not her family and yours could be friends depends on how I write my will. Is that correct?” Sparks seemed to shoot from his eyes as he spoke.

“That’s correct,” she replied, keeping her voice soft.

“I’m going to have a talk with her about this.”

Alison reached out her hand. “David, please. I’ll feel terrible if this causes a quarrel between you and your daughter. Really, don’t change your will, it’s not necessary.”

“It’s absolutely necessary. You’re going to be my wife. I hope I live to a hale and hearty one hundred, but you are eight years younger than I am. You are only fifty-five, and I want to provide for you. It’s also important that Poppy understands she cannot now or ever tell me what to do.”

Alison started to argue, then thought better of it. “Sweetheart, please. Come to the breakfast room. I’ve made wonderful cold salads and garlic bread. We’ll feel better when we’ve eaten.”

That caught David’s attention.“A cold salad?”

Alison laughed when she saw his expression. David was not a salad kind of guy.

“It’s mostly chicken and olives and potatoes,” she told him. “It’s on a bed of lettuce, which you don’t have to eat if you don’t want to, and there are some marinated green beans. I know you like those.” She kissed his cheek and led him out of the study, relieved to move him away from his anger.

—

It was a challenging day. The children didn’t want to play outside, but if they stayed in the air-conditioned house, they didn’t use up all their energy. They became crazy and silly, running through the house, accidentally knocking lamps over, spilling jigsaw puzzle pieces. When Felicity finally got them in their rooms and on their beds, if not asleep, it was almost ten o’clock. Noah still had not come home. Impatient, Felicity called Noah’s cell.

“I’m almost home,” he said. “Pulling in the driveway now.”

Felicity tried to shake off her irritation.

“Hi, hon,” she greeted Noah when he came in. “Long day?”

---