Page 85 of A Nantucket Wedding

Scott and Jane’s stepfather, Mark, had gotten along famously. Of course, Mark got along famously with everyone. Scott and Noah were more like oil and water. Noah’s hair fell to his shoulders, and for a few years he had a beard. Noah was very tall and thin; he looked and sometimes sounded like the leader of a cult. The first time they met, Scott had extended his hand for a conventional male handshake. Noah had instead clasped both hands around Scott’s and intoned, “Hello, Brother.” Jane, standing behind Noah, had put her finger in her mouth, simulating gagging.

As the years passed and Noah’s ideas gelled into an actual business with wealthy investors, he became less self-righteous and smug. He got his hair cut—because his children kept pulling and tugging it, he said—and he bought one good suit. He asked for Mark’s advice. He asked for Scott’s advice.

Still, always, after a holiday or a quick dinner when Jane and Scott were in New York, they returned to their own small household with relief. The pattern of their days was repetitive and soothing and sensual, too. It was luxurious to read the Sunday papers together, propped on pillows, on their iPads or e-readers, drinking coffee Scott made and brought back to the bed. At some point, they’d make love. Afterward, they’d go out for a long, leisurely Sunday brunch, and if it was raining, they’d visit a museum. If not, they took a stroll through Central Park. They met friends for dinner. They saw first-run plays. Sometimes, for a while, they went to their home office and worked. On vacations, they chose places that would take them away from the rush of the city. They hiked in Colorado and Utah. In Mexico, they atecaldo tlalpenoand drank tequila. In Death Valley, they ate rattlesnake and drank more tequila. They didn’t want to go to China and the Far East until Scott had polished up his Mandarin. Jane tried to learn a little of the language. She remembered sitting on the sofa with Scott, trying to say hello, and laughing until she almost fell onto the floor.

Scott was such a good man. Honest, reliable. He would never try to have sex with a married woman. Jane wanted to shake herself. She’d been so foolish, like a resentful child!

And then, her cellphone, lying in a blank rectangle on the table, vibrated. The caller ID number was odd—it was Welsh! Jane snatched up the phone.

“Mrs. Hudson? This is Derfel Aberfa. I am happy to report that your husband has been found and rescued.”

“Oh! Thank you!” Jane burst into tears.

“He was not far from the Crib Goch path. He slipped on the damp rocks and fell into a gap between boulders. He has broken his arm and sustained some hypothermia, but otherwise he is doing well.”

“Oh, I’m so glad, oh, thank you so much. May I speak to him?”

“He’s being treated at the Ysbyty Gwynedd. The hospital in Bangor. Are you in Wales yet?”

“Yes, I think so. I’m on a train from Manchester. We’re rocketing along tracks on the very edge of a mountain.”

“Yes, you are in Wales. So when you arrive in Bangor, take a cab to the hospital. Your husband is there, now.”

“How can I thank you? Is there a charge for your services?”

“Donations are always gratefully received. To rescue your husband took five team members, one S-92 rescue helicopter, and a team of Land Rovers over a period of five hours.”

“Oh, I had no idea—a helicopter!” For one hysterical moment, Jane wanted to ask if Prince William had flown it. Felicity would be thrilled! “Will I meet you at the hospital?”

“No. A rescue team liaison will be there.”

“Oh, good, but I wish I could meet you. You have been so helpful.”

“It was a group effort.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you. Thank everyone.”

When the connection to Derfel Aberfa was cut, Jane put the phone down and sobbed into her hands. Jane was aware that others in the train were staring at her as if she were an exhibit in a museum, and once she had herself more or less in control, she stood up and looked around the cabin. “My husband had a fall on Mount Snowdon. That was a liaison from the Llanberis Mountain Rescue Team. They found him and he’s waiting for me in the hospital with only a broken arm.”

Some of the other passengers applauded. Everyone smiled. Jane sat back down and began texting Felicity and her mother.

—

Alison found an empty slot in the short-term parking lot at Logan airport and neatly pulled in between two SUVs. She pulled down the visor, checked her hair, and sighed. Her dark hair always went hopelessly limp in the humidity. She dabbed on a gloss of pale pink lipstick, double-checked that she had her car keys in her purse. With this new car, she didn’t need to insert a key but simply put a foot on the brake and push a button. She kept trying to put the key in where there was no keyhole and every time she got in the car she felt as if she’d gone a little bit mad. She had to rearrange the habit of a lifetime, taking the key from the ignition, clasping it in her hand, getting out of the car, and locking it. Now she needed only to have the keys near her to start the car, but she had to have the keys in her hand to lock the car. A different pattern, different rhythm. It irritated her, and she was even more irritated at herself for minding so much. It made her feel old.

Well,she told herself,there’s a first-world problem if there ever was one.She stepped out of the car, smoothed the front of her dress, and headed for the terminal. Anya, the brilliant seamstress at Flore Bridal Gowns, was flying in today to fit Alison’s wedding dress. Anya was bringing Felicity’s and Jane’s as well, but Jane was over in Wales with Scott so the girls could try on theirs when they got to the island.

What an enormous relief it was that Scott was found with only a broken arm! Would Scott learn anything from his fall? Scott was so sure of himself, so unyielding, so doubt-free. Alison liked Scott, and she could see how Jane would love being with Scott. He was like a male Jane. But too much self-confidence was unpleasant; plus, it blinded people to the possibilities of other options.

Long ago, once she’d started playing around on the Internet, Alison had taken a test to see what personality type she was. Big surprise: she was a Nurturer. Nurturers were warm, loving, giving, forgiving, maternal, helpful, blah blah blah, but Nurturers were never Leaders. Leaders were strong, powerful, assured, capable of having visions and making those visions come true. Leaders didn’t care if they were liked or if they hurt someone in their steady advance toward their goals.

David was a Leader. Obviously. He had inherited a company and made it a financial success. He was powerful and assured. But he hadn’t had to step on anyone else’s fingers as he climbed the ladder to success. He’d worked very hard for years. David was, Alison decided, a Kind Leader. He was the one who wanted their wedding to be a great celebration for his family and friends. Alison thought Scott was a Leader, and so was Jane. Could two Leaders stay happily married through the years? They would all have to wait and see.

Today everyone was safe. She needed to stop her brooding and focus on this day. After all, it was going to be exciting, and it was almost herdutyto enjoy herself! Anya would arrive any moment, bringing with her Alison’s wedding dress.

The plane was on time. Alison waited, as agreed, by the baggage claim. And there she was, coming down the stairs from the gate. Alison smiled and waved. Anya was a serious woman who seldom talked about anything other than the gown she was fitting. Alison thought Anya was originally from Russia, but there was a sternness about her that kept Alison from inquiring. It would seem intrusive.

“Hello, Anya,” Alison said. “How was the flight?”

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