Page 63 of Summer Light on Nantucket

“Soon?” Blythe asked, laughing and teasing.

“Soon. Now let me walk you to your car.”

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The next morning, Blythe made Teddy and Holly go with her on a major grocery shop. When every brown paper bag had been emptied and folded, every bottle of milk and quart of yogurt put in the refrigerator, and all the fresh bananas and grapes draped like works of art in their large white bowl, Blythe told the children they were free to go. As if their tails were set on fire, they raced out the door on their way to the club.

“I’m having lunch with your grandmother,” Blythe called after them. “If you’d like to come…”

“No, thank you,” Teddy and Holly called back, not slowing their pace.

Blythe smiled like the Cheshire cat. She was completely fine with their answers.

Celeste had arranged their lunch on her back lawn and it looked like a scene from a Merchant Ivory film. A white lace tablecloth had been spread over the table, and a bottle of rosé sat in ice in a silver bucket. The plates, Blythe knew, were Celeste’s mother’s Limoges china with gold rims, and Celeste had brought out the heavy silver. Roses and hydrangea perfumed the air.

Blythe kissed Celeste’s cheek.

“This is all veryDownton Abbey,” she said as she sank into the wicker chair.

“It’s a perfect summer day, isn’t it?” Celeste lifted the bottle of rosé and poured them each a glass.

“Oh, dear, wine at lunch.” Blythe was glad to see platinum-rimmed crystal glasses full of ice water, too. “I usually don’t drink wine at lunch. It makes me too sleepy.”

“But what is sweeter than a summer afternoon nap?” Celeste asked. She raised her glass. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” she echoed, and drank. The effervescent liquid was cold and bright.

Egg salads mixed with watercress were on the plates next to the thickly sliced tomatoes.

“This is a treat,” Blythe said. “Thank you.”

As they ate, they discussed local news. Sharks seen off the south shore. The authors who spoke at the Nantucket Book Festival. The extravagant prices of meals at restaurants.

Then, leaning back in their chairs, nibbling on the grapes Celeste had set in a small silver bowl as a centerpiece, they talked about more personal things. Teddy growing taller every day. Holly creating her sea gerbil book. Bob and Teri, who would be staying with Celeste in a few weeks.

“I’d like to share something with you, Blythe.” Celeste put her hand to her throat, a telltale sign that the something was private and difficult.

Blythe sat up straight, wiped her lips, and lay her hands in her lap. “Of course.”

“It is a delicate matter.”

Blythe nodded.

“Teri came to me this May, when I was visiting them in Boston.”

Blythe waited. The air was warm and humid. Bees hummed among the heavy-headed roses and birds swooped busily from tree to tree. She was aware of her light floral sundress and Celeste’s silver heirloom bracelet that caught the sun and winked as Celeste moved.

Celeste picked up her wineglass, sipped, returned the glass to the table.

“Teri told me she wants to have a baby with Bob.” She held up her hand:Wait.“She can’t seem to conceive. She’s tried for months. She’s seen specialists and she’s fine. Everything’s in working order.”

“Oh.” Blythe bent double, pretending to fix a twisted strap on her sandal. A sense of guilt surged through her, followed by a blast of anger—why shouldshefeel guilty? Because when it happened, Bob had made her promise not to tell anyone, and she hadn’t.

But now she had to.

She straightened. “Celeste, Bob had a vasectomy right after we had Holly. He said he didn’t want any more children.”

Celeste put her hand over her heart. “Oh, my Lord. I didn’t know.” She sent a helpless look at Blythe. “What should I do?”

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