“I almost tripped,” she said. “These steps are uneven. I caught myself though.”
She walked to the table and set the tray down.
I stood where I was.
Fletcher was right behind her. Which meant he was right in front of me. Which meant he had seen all of it — the tray tilting,me crossing the patio, Margaux pulling her arm away, Margaux telling everyone she’d caught herself.
He looked at me. His jaw was tight.
I went back to my seat.
Breakfast was loud and warm the way Calloway breakfasts always were. Callie had questions about the crab. Jennifer was already planning lunch. Poppy was eating methodically and listening to everything.
Margaux was everywhere.
She reached the juice pitcher before Fletcher could touch it and filled his glass. She passed him the butter before he asked. When I picked up the toast tray to pass it down to him, her hand came across and took it first, smoothly, like we were both reaching for the same taxi, and she set it in front of him herself with a smile in my direction that had nothing behind it.
Then she leaned back in her chair and looked at me.
“It’s so sweet,” she said. “How you’ve been part of these summers for so long.” She smiled at the table, at everyone and no one. “You’re almost like a fixture here. Part of the furniture.”
She laughed lightly.
The table went quiet.
Not all of it. Just the right parts.
“August is family,” Fletcher said.
He didn’t raise his voice. He said it the way you state a fact about the weather.
“August has been family since before you started coming here,” Callie said. “So if we’re talking about fixtures, I’d sort that list differently.”
Margaux kept her smile exactly where it was.
Douglas set his coffee down. “I’m going to get that crab meat this morning. Fresh from the market. Who wants crab for lunch?”
Everyone said yes. All at once. The table moved on.
Poppy appeared at my elbow. She had relocated from her chair and was now crouching next to mine.
“You want to go to the beach with me?” she said quietly.
“Of course.. Right after I help clear up the table.” I said.
“I’ll come too,” Margaux said, from across the table.
Poppy looked at Margaux’s shoes. She looked at Margaux’s trousers. She looked back up at Margaux.
“Your things will get ruined in the sand,” Poppy said. She said it as a service, not an insult. “The fine ones.”
Margaux looked down at her outfit and then back up. Then she looked over at Fletcher.
“Oh Fletcher, look at you. Babe, you look so tired. I think you need some ocean air.”
“I am fine, Margaux.”
She put both her hands on his shoulders. “You’re not fine babe. You’ve been tense all morning. I can feel it in your shoulders. Come to the beach with me. You’ll feel a lot better, trust me babe.”
