Page 37 of Our Last Vineyard Summer

“Oh, hi,” Betsy said. She bent down and fussed over the dog. “What a sweet girl.” She smiled. Neither of them said anything else.Betsy cleared her throat. She wasn’t sure if he’d gotten her letter. “Okay, well, I’ll see you around.”

James pushed off the shingled grocery, falling in step with her. “I’ll walk with you. Your house is on the way to the hardware store, kind of.”

She watched Peanut Butter sniff at the lowest branches of an overgrown rhododendron. “I would like that.”

They strolled along the manicured lawns of Summer Street, Betsy hyperaware of his presence. She waited for him to say something; he had chosen to walk with her, but he seemed comfortable with the silence. He’d been that way as a kid too. It was Betsy that chattered on. She tried to think of something to say.

“Do you remember Ellie?”

James eyed her curiously. “Our old sailing instructor, with the short red hair? Didn’t we put a dead fish in her boat?”

She laughed, and Peanut Butter’s enormous tail wagged, brushing against Betsy’s legs. “Why were we so mean to her?”

“Ellie was a total blue blood, don’t you remember? Her mother’s name was Muffy.”

The memory annoyed Betsy. “Yes. She always parked her parents’ black Mercedes convertible with one wheel up on the curb. I wonder what happened to her.”

He pointed at the manicured lawn of a captain’s house with a bricked walkway and imposing front door. “She’s probably ‘figuring herself out’ in one of those.”

She and James had always thumbed their noses at the summer kids from Boston and New York, their families parking enormous yachts in the harbor and inviting locals to their lavish homes for parties because they thought it made them interesting. They went to a few of those gatherings, but they never felt at home with all those girls and their very big feelings snorting lines on a coffee table, the boys tossing footballs in the backyard while holding beers, everyone running to the beach for a midnight swim.

“You sound resentful.” Betsy glanced at her watch. It was nearly four, and she needed to get to the pharmacy.

“You’re different,” he said. He leaned against a lamppost, watching her.

She adjusted the strap of her bathing suit. “Well, you’re exactly the same.”

“Yeah, well.” He pushed his hands into the pockets of his baggy shorts.

A part of her worried she might have insulted him. “I mean, it’s not a bad thing that you’re the same. I always did like you.” She smiled at him, and she was about to ask if he wanted to walk some more when her sisters turned the corner.

Louisa was coming down the sidewalk in bright red lipstick and heels. When she laid eyes on Betsy, her heart-shaped mouth pulled tight, and she glanced at Aggie, the two of them sharing a look. Betsy knew what that meant. She’d done something wrong.

“Did you forget about our appointment?” Aggie called down the sidewalk, her steps swift.

The sisters said a quick hello to James, inquiring how he was, while making clear they weren’t all that interested in the answer. Betsy lifted her face out of her hands.

“I’m so sorry.” Her mind had been so preoccupied with the pharmacy that she had forgotten their meeting at the Dukes County Savings Bank. “I’ll just go like this.”

Louisa looked at Betsy like she was holding in laughter. “You can’t go to the bank in jogging shorts and a damp bathing suit.”

“Of course I can. Don’t be such a snob.” Betsy turned to James. “Good luck with the house.”

He smiled at her. “Good luck with your sisters.”

“I’m going to need it.”

Betsy trailed behind Louisa and Aggie as they walked off toward Main Street, Betsy wondering how on earth she was going to get to Oak Bluffs in time to buy the test. She also wondered if she and Jameswould ever really be friends again, if he’d ever forget how cruel she’d been, dropping him from her life without an explanation.

The Dukes County Savings Bank was housed in a classic white clapboard house just off Main Street. Louisa opened the door, her heels announcing her serious intentions, and Betsy registered the confused look on the young teller’s face. Most customers on the island likely came in wearing sandals and shorts, whereas Louisa stormed in like she’d bought the bank.

“Good afternoon. We’re here to see Mr. Erwin,” Louisa said.

The baby began to fuss, and Aggie picked him up out of the stroller as the teller disappeared into a nearby office. The man that emerged was shorter than Aggie by a head and wore freshly shined black loafers with tassels. Louisa held out her hand. “I’m Louisa Whiting. Thank you for seeing us today, Mr. Erwin.”

“Please, call me Pat.” He said hello to Betsy like he knew her. “Don’t you teach my daughter Lilian at the yacht club?”

Betsy remembered his slick, oiled hair and thick black glasses from drop-off. “Yes! Hello! I have good news to report. I had Lilian steering the boat today. What a special girl you have.”

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