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Molly Beardsley disagrees.Hollis is circling her wagons. She’s gathering the best friends she’s ever had as a way of celebrating life. If we criticize her for making delicious food and treating her friends to meals at fancy restaurants, aren’t we the ones too focused on appearances? I’m sure there will be a lot of meaningful moments that we’ll never know about, nor should we. I’m prepared to die on this hill; Hollis has been through a tragedy and she should be free to throw exactly the kind of weekend she wants without being judged by us.
Bailey writes:She should wait a year. Let some time pass.
Molly comments:Are you kidding me right now? Who made you the grief police?
Bailey doesn’t respond.
A woman from Tallahassee, Paige Sweezey, posts this:My best friend from my Florida State days, Moira Sullivan, invented the Five-Star Weekend!!! She invited us all to Destin six months after her husband died, and it lifted her right out of her funk. It was life-affirming not only for Moira but for all of us.Paige adds the link to the Motherlode article about Moira Sullivan’s weekend in Destin.
It does seem that Moira Sullivan originated the idea of the Five-Star Weekend. Hollis must have read the article and adapted it for her own purposes. Some of her followers think Hollis should come clean about this and give credit where credit is due. (Paige muses that Moira ought to have copyrighted the idea, but how would that work, exactly?)
The wonderful thing about the Hungry with Hollis website, they all agree, is that every thoughtful, carefully considered opinion is valid.
Hollis leaves a message on the Corkboard a short while later. It’s pretty clear she hasn’t read any of the comments, or if she has, she’s chosen not to engage.
It says:Because I want to give Tatum, Dru-Ann, Brooke, and Gigi my undivided attention, I won’t be posting until the weekend is over. I’ll provide a full recap next week—and yes, I’ll post recipes.
A collective gasp rises from the ether.Gigi?Did Hollis invite Gigi Ling, a frequent visitor on the website, to her Five-Star Weekend? Gigi Ling isalwayscommenting on Hollis’s posts, and (they can’t help noticing) Hollis responds as though she finds Gigi the most fascinating creature on earth. They can only presume that Hollisdidinvite Gigi.
Now they’re all a little jealous.
Still, it seems risky, doesn’t it, inviting someone you met through a website to a weekend like this. How will that go?
They can’t wait to find out.
10. Night Changes I
Caroline paces in front of Nantucket Memorial Airport. Her mother is late.
What the actual F?Caroline rose with the pigeons and got her ass to JFK with all of Isaac’s bulky filming equipment, and now she’s rotting on the curb while everyone else on her flight gets a Lyft or a taxi. Caroline texts her mother:I’m here. Where r u?
There’s no response.
One cab—Roger’s—idles unclaimed. Carolinecouldhop in and be in Squam in ten minutes, but she refuses to do that on principle. Her mother was so set on having Caroline come, she should be here. She should have been hereearly. Hollis is probably too busy peeling cucumbers for the spa water or folding the ends of the toilet paper into nifty points to come pick up her own child.
The next thought comes to her unbidden: Herfatherwould have been here on time. He would have been in the Bronco with the top down, wearing his Hootie and the Blowfish T-shirt, and he’d have a latte and a morning bun from Wicked Island Bakery for her, and Henrietta would be lounging across the back seat. He’d jump out of the car, give Caroline a bear hug, and help her with her bags. Then they’d drive to Nobadeer Beach, where Caroline could enjoy her coffee and pull apart the flaky layers of the cinnamon roll as they watched the surfers.
Caroline’s eyes sting with tears. She hadn’t anticipated how coming to Nantucket would make her experience the loss of her father all over again.
Because Caroline’s mother has a long, complex history with the island, which she seems to want to both embrace and deny, Caroline and Matthew had to create their own Nantucket traditions. Matthew liked to spend the Fourth of July on Coatue, where they would grill clams on the hibachi and watch the fireworks set off across the harbor at Jetties Beach. On weekend mornings, he and Caroline would strap their paddleboards to the top of the Bronco and drive to Sesachacha Pond. They’d dip their oars into the still water while the rising sun turned the surface of the pond into a pink mirror. On Caroline’s twenty-first birthday, Matthew took her on a surprise daytime trip to the Chicken Box. They stopped to pick up a pepperoni pizza from Sophie T’s and arrived at the Chicken Box at noon, and Caroline ordered her first legal beer. Matthew had arranged for the lead singer of the band that night (Caroline would be going back later with her friends) to come out and sing “Happy Birthday.” The bartender and the locals applauded; the lead singer gave Caroline a hug and took a selfie with her.
Now tears fall as Caroline checks her phone. Still nothing from her mother.
She hears the boarding announcement for the JetBlue flight back to JFK. Should she just get on the plane and return to the city? It would serve Hollis right.And I’ll never speak to her again,Caroline thinks.I’ll orphan myself.
Back at the Chelsea loft, Isaac and Sofia will now be reunited. They might even be making love on the soft, Egyptian-cottoned acreage that Caroline has so recently occupied. Caroline asked Isaac about his and Sofia’s sex life: Was it real? When did they find time? Isaac admitted that they made love in the late night/early morning when Sofia got home from the clubs. She poured herself into bed like syrup, he said, making her sound exotic and luscious in a way Caroline knows she will never be.
Why me?Caroline had asked Isaac another time, and he said,When you cried, you showed yourself to me. You’re pure, unspoiled, you still feel things. I found that irresistible.
Caroline does nothingbutfeel things—an echoing angst, longing, jealousy. And, at the moment, exhaustion and irritation. Where is her mother?
She types a text to Isaac:I miss you.Will he findthisirresistible, she wonders, or simply pathetic? Pathetic, she’s pretty sure, but she can’t help herself; she presses Send.
Then she hears a voice say, “Caroline?”
Caroline turns. A dude holding the hand of a small child is walking out of Crosswinds, the airport restaurant. Caroline blinks. It’s Dylan McKenzie.
Because Caroline is a budding filmmaker, she mentally zooms out and watches this scene unfold even as she’s living it. (Isaac is always reminding her toobserverather than justsee.) But one thing that a camera can’t capture is a person’s interior thoughts.
