Page 16 of The Beachgoers
seven
— Now —
CLOTHES ARE EVERYWHERE.
On the bed. On the floor. Tossed over Jason’s bedside chair. There are hangers hooked onto dresser drawer pulls; silky scarves draped over doorknobs.
Clothes, clothes. Everywhere Maris looks, that’s all she sees. Each piece, each blouse or skirt or pair of pants is considered, discounted and sometimes considered again. Because tonight’s as important as a night can be. Tonight’s the night the past two years have led to. Sometimes it’s hard to believe it’s finally here. That two years have gone by.
Two years since Elsa told her she wanted to buy the old Foley’s place and turn it into a seaside inn.
Two years of planning. And rebuilding that rambling cottage. And decorating.
Two years that brought Elsa’s son, Sal, to Stony Point. And that brought Elsa a granddaughter in Aria.
Two years that landed Elsa’s renovation on Jason’s CT-TV show,Castaway Cottage.
Two years of Elsa starting a whole new life here at Stony Point—after she left Milan and her villa and her Italian friends and neighbors behind.
Two years leading to the grand opening of her aunt’s beloved Ocean Star Inn.
In those two years, didn’t Maris change her life, too. She moved back to Connecticut. Married Jason Barlow. Walked away from her career as a denim fashion designer. Wrote a novel.
If anything, she and Elsa deserve a vacation after these past two years.Oh, how welcome that would be, Maris thinks. Especially after learning her aunt’s terrible news that changes everything. It might actually be the biggest Stony Point secret of all. Wouldn’t Maris love to get Jason’s take on it, or her sister’s.
But she can’t. She’s sworn to secrecy, and gave Elsa her word.
So first—they all have to get through tonight. With everyone gathered at the inn together, Elsa will finally spill that news.
And Maris has nothing to wear.
* * *
As Maris unzips a navy sheath, her cell phone rings. First she glares at it, but heck, maybe the distraction is good.
“Hey, Eva,” Maris says, sitting half-dressed on her mattress.
“Is Jason there?”
Maris looks at her cell phone. No:Hey, sis,from Eva. No:How’s things?
“No, he’s not here,” Maris tells her as she walks to her closet and takes out a khaki T-shirt dress. Its slubbed cotton fabric is crisscrossed with the same khaki-color linen insets. While eyeing the dress, Maris does something else. She also holds the phone to her ear and listens to her sister psychoanalyze her and Jason’s marriage.
“So you’re not even going together to Elsa’s tonight? Will you even sit together?”
“Of course we will, Eva,” Maris says—without mentioning her secret coffee date before the event. “This is Elsa’s big night. It’s notaboutme and Jason.” Holding the khaki dress to her front and standing at her mirror, she moves the dress left, then right.
“Well, I’m still taking Jason aside and giving him a piece of my mind later.”
“Don’t you dare,” Maris hisses. “It’s complicated, and I want you to leave him be. And trust me, I’m handling things.”
“But—”
“Uh-uh-uh.”
“Fine,” Eva gives in. “Well anyway, since Jason’s not around, come by here then.”
Maris sets her phone on the dresser and puts the speaker on.
