Page 25 of The Beach Hut on Plum Island
Finn’s jaw dropped slightly as he stared at Harriet in disbelief. “Why?”
“A bet I have with Brad Danes’s father, Travis,” Harriet told him, sipping her wine.
“You’re collecting four hundred bottles of wine for a bet?” Finn spluttered. “Four hundred bottles of wine that cost roughlythree thousand dollars a bottle.” He did a quick calculation in his head. “That’s over a million dollars worth of champagne.”
“Uh-huh!” Harriet nodded. “I’m always trying to raise money for various causes and research.” She looked at the wine in her glass. “The functions I go to there are always an abundance of extravagance.” She glanced at Finn, her eyes shadowed with thought. “Even fund-raising functions are filled with expensive wines, champagne, other beverages, and food.”
“I’ve been to a few of those in my lifetime.” Finn understood what she meant.
“I look around the room and calculate that the amount that was spent on the party could’ve just been donated to the cause,” Harriet said. “Instead of laying out such a lavish spread, do something unique like a potluck.” She sipped the wine before continuing. “Or at least something cheaper than the fancy spread that gets laid out, and half of it goes to waste.”
Finn stared at her in awe. “I couldn’t agree more.”
He refilled their glasses and added four blocks of ice to Harriet’s wine.
“Thank you,” Harriet said. “My parents threw me a birthday party five years ago, and they went all out as they usually do when they throw me a party.”
“Don’t they always throw you a party?” Finn asked.
“No!” Harry made a face. “I don’t like birthday parties. I like to celebrate it quietly. My dream is to have just my friends and family around a barbeque.” She sighed and glanced toward the ocean where the sun was waving goodnight as its rays shimmered on the sea’s surface. “Because my dream has never been realized, I tend to go away for my birthday with Dawn or on my own.”
“I get that,” Finn said. “I love waking up and having my kids make me breakfast in bed. We usually have a few friends andfamily over for a barbeque or dinner. I’m way past the big party birthdays.” He looked at her. “How did this bet come about?”
“I was moaning at how much waste and extravagance there always is and that if I had just taken one bottle of Krug Clos d’Ambonnay for every party we had over five years, I’d have enough to fill a bath,” Harriet explained. “That’s roughly four hundred bottles of champagne.”
“That’s an odd thing to say,” Finn said.
“When I was a kid, I saw this music video of these women diving into huge glasses filled with champagne,” Harriet told him. “After that, I wanted to bathe in champagne as well. It became a joke among my family and our friends.”
“Oh!” Finn nodded. “So you said you could fill a bath with it?”
“Yup!” Harriet nodded.
“So you’re collecting it to bathe in it?” Finn asked.
“No.” Harriet shook her head. “Travis Danes told me that he doubts one bottle of champagne would make a difference in the world. I told him that one bottle of champagne from just the functions our family has over five years added up to millions—millions that could go to a good cause instead of just being wasted and thrown out.”
“They throw unused champagne away after a function?” Finn was astounded.
“No!” Harriet frowned. “If it’s been opened, yes; if not, it usually gets distributed between the staff or people who worked the function. The same way the food does.”
“So it’s not going to waste,” Finn pointed out.
“Do people really need alcohol?” Harriet asked. “Or expensive alcohol anyway?” She shrugged. “My grandfather’s favorite wine came from a small vineyard in the South of France that wasn’t well known, and their wines were not expensive. They were affordable.” She smiled fondly as she spoke of her grandfather. “He also didn’t think much of extravagance and preferred goodhome-cooked meals. He’d always say there’s a reason they are called hearty meals.”
“Is your grandfather still around?” Finn asked her.
“Yes, but sadly, his health is declining rapidly.” Her eyes darkened with emotion and she drank some wine.
“I’m sorry,” Finn said with compassion. “I don’t remember my grandparents.”
“I’m sorry,” Harriet said, her eyes widening and her cheeks flushed pink. “My goodness, I can’t believe I’m chatting your ears off about my crazy stuff.”
“It’s not crazy,” Finn assured her and meant the words that followed. “I’m enjoying listening to you tell me about your family.” He shrugged and glanced at the darkening sea. “I never knew my real mother. She died when I was born. Then, my stepmother, Caroline’s mom, became my mother and she passed away years ago from cancer. My father died not too long ago. So now it’s just Caroline, me, and our kids.”
“And your extended family here on Plum Island,” Harriet reminded him. “That’s the one thing I’ve learned in the year I’ve been here: how quickly your friends become part of your family.”
“That’s true,” Finn said, raising his glass. “Are you going to finish telling me about the bet?”
