Page 71 of A Nantucket Wedding

That night, Jane insisted she’d prepare dinner. She settled her mother and David in chairs on the deck with a pitcher of sangria and glasses rattling with ice. When Felicity offered to help, Jane said, “Absolutely not. This is my treat. Go have a drink with your husband.”

The four children had showered and shampooed and were outside playing an unorthodox game of badminton. Their shouts of laughter, their helpless giggles, drifted in on the light breeze. Jane smiled. The laughter was contagious.

She was making two different dishes: a comforting, familiar, tuna noodle casserole for the four kids and pasta with fresh tuna, red onions, olives, and shaved parmesan for the adults. She found several bottles of red wine to pair with the pasta dish and she’d poured herself a glass to enjoy while she was cooking.

She set the dining room table for the adults and the kitchen table for the four children. She set out a green salad and the wineglasses and was back in the kitchen, grating the parmesan, when she sensed someone entering the kitchen.

“Hey,” Ethan said.

Jane looked at him. His tan was more golden, his blond hair more sun-streaked, and his blue eyes flashed whenever he met Jane’s. After their adventure on the moors, they’d returned to the sleeping house and crept quietly to their own beds. The next day, as scheduled, they’d both flown home. Since then, he’d texted her once, and she had not replied. She was trying to be thoughtful about this. She was trying to be good.

“Hey,” Jane replied.

“Whatever you’re making smells delicious.”

Jane nodded toward the open bottle. “Pour yourself a glass of wine.”

Ethan did, moving slowly, deliberately, doing that thing he’d done the day they made the bread, coming just near enough to Jane that he almost touched her, then turning away. Her body responded. She wanted to reach out and pull him to her. She wanted to press her body against his.

“I texted you this week,” Ethan said, leaning against the counter next to the stove. “You didn’t answer.”

Her pulse was throbbing in every part of her body. She’d become a human engine of desire.

“Okay,” she said aloud to herself, “I’ve sautéed the tuna and the pasta’s bubbling. Salad’s on the table. I’ve got five minutes before I call everyone in for dinner.”

Ethan gently rested his hand on her wrist, turning her toward him. “Can we take a ride after dinner?”

This is how people need air,Jane thought.They might want to drown and hold their breath and sink into the ocean, but the body wants to live and bursts to the surface. The irony tonight was that Ethan was the air, and Jane had to force herself not to take it.

“Ethan, no. Wait, let me say this. I want to have sex with you, but I’m married, and so I won’t have sex with you.”

“Your husband is in Wales, right?”

“He is. And we, Scott and I, are farther apart than we’ve ever been, and I don’t mean geographically. I’m angry at him, and I’m disappointed by him, and I don’t really know whether we’ll stay married or not—”

Ethan slid his hand up her arm so that he was touching the side of her breast. “I don’t see—”

“I can’t. I won’t. I mean it, I can’t betray my marriage vows.”

“Scott will never know,” Ethan said softly.

Jane shrugged. “Yeah, he will. Because I’ll tell him. Because that’s the way I am. I don’t know what I thought I was doing, Ethan, going to the moors with you. I’m crazy attracted to you, and I acted like a teenager. I’m sorry, and I’m not pleased with myself. But whatever you and I have going on, it has to end. I’m ending it.”

Ethan leaned forward, as if he were going to kiss her mouth, but he put his lips to her ear and whispered, “We’ll see about that.”

His whisper sent a shiver through her.

The buzzer sounded.

“Pasta’s ready,” Jane said. “Would you tell everyone to come in for dinner?”

—

By nine o’clock that night, all four children were zonked out asleep, the kitchen had been cleaned, the dishwasher was pleasantly churning, and the adults were gathered around the kitchen table playing poker.

Jane held five pathetically low cards, but she was good at keeping a poker face, so she matched the ante without a pause. After all, they were playing for kitchen matches.

The families were finally in a good space, she thought, studying those around her. Her mother and David were relaxed, shooting each other fond glances and making jokes.

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