Page 55 of A Nantucket Wedding

“Have you all had lunch?” Alison asked Patrick as he headed up the stairs.

“We have, thanks. We’re good. The kids are eager to get down to the beach.”

“Great!” Alison went back to the kitchen to, as her mother had often said, have a little think. A bowl of fresh fruit sat on the kitchen table. Iced tea and pink lemonade were in plastic (unbreakable) pitchers in the refrigerator. Several kinds of beer waited in the refrigerator door. The sheets were fresh on the beds, bath towels and beach towels towered in the bathrooms, the kitchen was bursting with food to feed a mob, and yet Alison was troubled by a chill of foreboding, as if her very bones were warning of an approaching storm.

She wore shorts, a loose T-shirt, and flip-flops. This morning she’d had a lovely long swim to cool off after she’d finished cooking and baking. Jane hadn’t arrived yet. She would come in the late afternoon, and as she had before, she’d rent her own car. Jane liked to be self-sufficient. So Alison was free, really, to relax. She could read a novel or take a nap or sit out on the deck watching the others and being available—that was what her inner self was cautioning her to do: to be available.

She was in the downstairs bathroom applying another coat of sunblock when Daphne and Hunter thundered down the stairs in their bathing suits. Their father followed, yelling, “Wait for me, kids!” The back door slammed. Alison heard Patrick and his kids greeting David and Ethan.

“Alison.”

Alison turned. Poppy stood in the bathroom door, her face like a storm cloud.

“Poppy! I didn’t hear you come down. Would you like some sunblock? I like this kind especially, it doesn’t sting your eyes…”

“We need to talk,” Poppy said bluntly.

Alison flinched at the other woman’s tone. “What?”

“In the den.” Poppy turned and walked away.

After a moment, Alison followed.

Poppy was pacing in front of the fireplace.

“Poppy, what—”

“What gives you the right to delay my taking control of the company?”

“Poppy, I don’t understand. Let’s sit down and—”

“Do you think, because I’m pregnant, I have to sit down?”

“For heaven’s sake, Poppy. No. I think because I’m older than you are,Ineed to sit down.” Alison sank onto a chair. “Okay. Now. Please. Tell me what you’re so upset about.”

“Don’t pretend not to know. You told my father he shouldn’t make me CEO of the company because I’m pregnant.”

“I see.” Alison tapped her lip. What a mess. David had mentioned in passing, in their flurried hours of packing for this weekend, that he had spoken with Poppy about waiting to take over the company, but he hadn’t give Alison any details. Had David told Poppywhyhe wanted to wait? Had he pointed out to his beloved daughter that she was making all kinds of mistakes and not getting necessary reports and directives done in a timely fashion? Alison needed to speak with David before she could talk truthfully. This wasn’t information Alison should give.

Alison equivocated. “That’s not what I said.”

“Are you calling my father a liar?”

“Of course not, Poppy.” Alison took a few yoga breaths. She thought she knew a way through this mess, for now. “I think your father has so much to deal with, professionally and personally. Taking control of the company—which Ineversaid you shouldn’t do—and our forthcoming wedding and your pregnancy, will take a toll on your life for at least a year—”

“So cancel the wedding. Or postpone it.”

“No, Poppy. That’s not going to happen.” Alison was angry now, working hard to remain cordial. She presented her offering. “Well, theweddingis going to happen, but David and I could postpone our honeymoon. That way he could be here while you have your baby, and he could hand over the control to you more gradually.”

Poppy stared. “You would do that? You would postpone your honeymoon cruise?”

“Of course I would, Poppy. If that’s what David wants, of course. It does seem like a good idea, doesn’t it?”

Poppy bit her lip. She stared at the floor. In that moment, Alison saw the young woman in Poppy, the daughter of a mother who had died four years ago and was not there to share this new pregnancy with Poppy, to counsel Poppy, to intercede in all matters with Poppy’s father on Poppy’s behalf. Poppy was a woman alone, surrounded by males, her father, her brother, her husband. It really was too bad that Ethan refused to take any part in the management of the company. He could share the burden with Poppy; he could lighten her load. Poppy was brilliant and assertive and capable, but she was also a mother and a pregnant woman and a wife and a daughter. And now she was about to see her beloved father joined to another woman, the archetypal wicked stepmother.

Alison wanted very much for Poppy to consider her a friend, not an enemy. And at this moment, she experienced an unexpected surge of love and sympathy for the young woman who had so much on her hands—and in her body. Yet she was certain that if she attempted to make a conciliatory move—to embrace her, make a joke—if she tried to do that, Poppy would snap like a trap and take off Alison’s hand.

So she waited quietly.

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