Page 61 of Our Last Vineyard Summer

They caught Aggie up on the letter. As she listened, she twiddled the baby’s pacifier.

“Louisa and I think that maybe we can sell the land on Nantucket, since we don’t really care about it,” Betsy said, feeling lighter than she had in weeks. “That money could pay off the rest of the debt on the house here.”

“We may even be able to use the land as collateral to convince Mr. Edwin that the bank should approve us for additional cash.” Louisa talked quickly, a growing confidence in her words. “We just need the deed from the records office. I have no idea if the lot is buildable or how much it’s worth, but Nantucket is just as expensive as here, if not more, so it must be worth something.”

Aggie ticked her head back and forth, listening closely. She reread the letter once more, folding it back into thirds and sliding it into the envelope. “But why doesn’t Mom know about this? It feels rather clandestine of him to hide property all this time and then write Betsy some mysterious letter he was never certain she’d receive. It’s making me feel worried somehow, like we’re buying a carton of eggs only to open them and find rotten ones inside.”

Tourists ambled down the street, the critique of a rubbery steak dinner drifting through the window. Betsy pulled her knees into her chest. “But what other option do we have at this point? We might as well investigate, and you said yourself that trying to save the house is worth a shot. Let’s go to Nantucket tomorrow.”

With the letter addressed to Betsy, she felt like the leader, suddenly taller, stronger, and smarter.

Aggie’s eyes widened. “Don’t you have work tomorrow?”

“I’ll call in. We must, don’t you think, Louisa? We need to go see the land and retrieve the deed from the records office.”

She exhaled when Louisa nodded.

That sparked a new discussion. How would they explain their absence to their mother? They quickly agreed that they would blame their excursion on the senior partner at Louisa’s law firm. He was visiting his house on the nearby island, and he’d called Louisa and invited her for a last-minute luncheon. She didn’t want to go alone, so she’d begged Betsy to come with her. Oh, and they needed to borrow their mother’s car.

Aggie fiddled with her wedding ring. “Mom’s never going to believe that Louisa begged you to come. If she did, it would only make you want to say no.”

Betsy chewed the inside of her cheek. “You’re right. I’ll say that I begged Louisa to go because I’ve always wanted to see Nantucket.”

Louisa nodded. “Then I’ll say that Ireluctantlyagreed to let you come so I didn’t have to stay in a hotel on my own, and I can act all annoyed about it.”

Aggie agreed she should stay behind with the kids, since it would be too challenging to travel with them. Plus, she could keep their mother busy so she wouldn’t suspect that they were up to anything.

Aggie picked a fuzz off Louisa’s pajama top. “Don’t you need to go back to Washington again, Lou?”

Louisa swallowed a large gulp of air. “Something happened,” she said.

“Hold on,” Betsy said. She went into the kitchen to get a bowl of potato chips, and she ate them by the handful, offering her sisters the bowl. Her appointment with the midwife was tomorrow. She would need to cancel it.

“I didn’t want to worry you both, but the partners took me off the case.” Louisa couldn’t look at them, her gaze on the hem of her pajamabottoms. “I’ve done almost all the work. I researched the law. I wrote the arguments, but they go to court. Maybe it’s punishment for taking so much time away. Maybe they would have done it anyway. But they won’t let me argue, saying it will distract the justices from the case.” A vein jumped in her alabaster temple. “My boss told me when I get back from vacation, I’ll be assisting Timothy Schumacher, but Schumacher treats his female associates like secretaries. It’s a complete demotion. I told my boss that if he put me there, then I quit.”

The tension in the room tightened, stretching like rubber. “So you quit?” Aggie said. “I hope you weren’t that hotheaded.”

Louisa inhaled sharply, exhaled, her voice steady. “I nearly did. I told him I wasn’t rushing back. Honestly, my boss might fire me first, but I’m so humiliated I’m not sure I can ever go back into the office.”

“You’re not a secretary!” Aggie narrowed her eyes.

“I’m going to put in my resignation. I must.” She turned to Betsy. “That’s why I came back early, and it’s why I’m still here. I’m a bit turned inside out too.”

“Do you thinkMichaelhad something to do with your move?” It had been Betsy’s first thought. Her sister’s boyfriend was working on the opposing side. Perhaps he’d called his buddy at Louisa’s firm and made a “helpful suggestion” about shifting around a distracting employee.

Aggie’s eyes landed on Louisa, who paced the living room. “Who is Michael?”

“This man I met, and yes, I’ve heard that there are questions about our relationship. Apparently, it wasn’t the secret I thought it was.”

Betsy was certain her sister would hate that, too, going back to a job where everyone knew the details of her love life. “If he loved you, he would take himself off the case.” Betsy crunched on the chips, wishing she had onion dip. “He wouldn’t expect you to step away. If he truly loved you, he wouldn’t allow this to happen.”

Louisa stuffed the chips into her mouth too. “Why do women always say that? The entire women’s movement has been built on theidea that men hurt women all the time. A man can love you, but it doesn’t mean he wants you to be his equal. Can’t you see that?”

Betsy thought back to her conversation with her sister earlier in her mother’s study, just before she’d discovered the letter. Maybe her father was threatened by a wife who saw herself as his equal. Maybe her father had always needed to feel one step ahead.

It was troubling that her father had addressed this letter to Betsy, that it wasn’t written for her mother. But he had always made Betsy feel like they had an alliance, and it felt dangerous to name the dynamics in a family.

Rising from the couch, Betsy lifted the model sailboat off the mantel that she and her father had built when she was little. They had spent hours gluing the pieces in place, but she had the sudden urge to dismantle it. Then she realized that it had only looked perfect from far away. Now that she held it close, Betsy could see the spots where the glue had dried. There was a piece of the bottom peeling backward with time.

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