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Kostos had invited her out to dinner that night. Over text, shivering like a frightened rabbit, Nancy had suggested they meet downtown early so that she could give him a short tour of historic Edgartown. He’d agreed wholeheartedly.
Nancy donned an ochre jumpsuit with long, flowing pants and a top that was cut like a sharp square over her upper chest. Although she was in her sixties, she’d been committed to yoga for so many years that she felt confident showing her arms. Even still, the mirror showed loose skin, which caught the light that streamed in through her bedroom windows. She wouldn’t have told anyone in the world that the loose skin bothered her. But it did.
At six-thirty sharp, Nancy strode along the Edgartown boardwalk, scanning for Kostos— that hunky man who made her heart flip over in a way that made her feel like a teenager again. Just when she thought that maybe, he’d stood her up, that maybe, he didn’t have time for her after all, she spotted him leaning against the boardwalk railing with his eyes toward the lighthouse. He wore a white button-down and a pair of dark jeans, and his hands were clasped together, his eyes heavy with thought.
For a little while, Nancy wasn’t sure what to do. Interrupting him seemed like a tragedy, as he seemed like the kind of man who could spontaneously write a poem, just in his head, as he looked at something as stunning as the late afternoon on Martha’s Vineyard.
But before she could decide what to do or what to say to bring him back to earth, Kostos flinched as though he’d realized she was near, turned toward her, and smiled. This time, it was Nancy’s turn to float off the planet.
“Nancy!” Kostos strode toward her, opening his arms, then kissed her on both cheeks— as Nancy had seen Italians and French people do. It was bizarre, as an American, to be greeted like this, but Nancy decided to roll with it. It had been ages since a man’s lips had been so close to hers.
After a brief tour downtown, during which Kostos asked numerous questions about the history of the island, he finally admitted he was “so hungry” that he couldn’t possibly concentrate on anything else until he ate. Nancy laughed, remembering that Neal had been similar when it had come to food.
Nancy had made reservations at a fish restaurant that served the catch of the day with delectable sides, like buttery asparagus or garlic mashed potatoes, plus homemade bread with butter that tasted like a cloud. They sat at a table on the front porch with a pretty good view of the harbor, where the sailboats creaked against the docks, prepared for their next outings. Kostos knew a great deal about the wine on the menu, and Nancy let him take charge, asking questions about the grapes and vineyards he didn’t know well. The server was happy to share his knowledge, even slightly arrogant about it. After Kostos opted for an orange chardonnay, the server left them, and Kostos winked at Nancy, saying, “They love showing off what they know. I understand that well. I worked in the service industry for years.”
“Did you?” Nancy tilted her head. “I had a few stints in restaurants, as well. But I never knew as much about wine as you seem to.”
“I worked at a luxury restaurant in Greece,” Kostos explained. “It was essential to impress the clientele with the very best wine knowledge. Every region in Italy, Greece, France, Germany, Austria, and on and on. California was a part of the equation, too, of course.”
“That sounds intimidating.”
Kostos laughed. “It was. But I learned a thing or two about hanging out with that kind of crowd. I didn’t come from money, and all the money I have is hard-earned. But the rich folks I met at the restaurant taught me to walk the walk and talk the talk, which is essential if you want to sell yourself.”
“I understand that. I came from nothing, absolutely nothing. But after I married my late husband, I found myself in a very different world. I recently watched the filmPretty Womanand realized I had a lot in common with Julia Roberts’ character, at least back then. I was a mess.”
“I’m sure you weren’t,” Kostos said. “From here, you seem like a remarkable, well-dressed, beautiful, and elegant woman. I can’t imagine you not knowing which side of the plate the forks go.”
“And in which order the forks are meant to go,” Nancy added. “Trust me. I checked out plenty of books from the library on that very subject. It was important for me to show off for Neal, at least for a little while.”
Kostos shook his head. “Isn’t it funny, the things we humans get bogged down by?”
“I know! A fork is a fork,” Nancy said with a laugh. “Until it’s not.”
The server returned with their wine and took their food orders, Nancy with the sea bass and Kostos with the salmon. Nancy found herself continually drawn to his eyes, falling into that blue ocean.
“By the way,” Kostos said, his face earnest. “I hope this doesn’t sound bizarre or out of bounds. But I wanted to say I lost my wife, too. A few years ago.”
“Oh. I’m so sorry.”
“I’m sorry about your loss, too.” Kostos palmed the back of his neck. “It doesn’t really get any easier, I guess. But I’ve found ways to carry it.
Nancy nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. She sipped her wine and stumbled through her thoughts, feeling inarticulate. And then, perhaps because she hadn’t spoken to anyone about it since she’d found out, she heard herself say, “I recently learned that my husband wasn’t entirely kind to his first wife.”
“That sounds complicated,” Kostos offered.
“Yeah. My stepdaughter discovered a diary from her mother, my husband’s first wife. It sounds like he was quite cruel to her. He pushed her to have an affair. She nearly left him.”
“Why didn’t she?” Kostos asked.
“The man she was having an affair with died in a tragic accident,” Nancy said. “And she had two young children at home. She was reeling with grief, and I don’t think she wanted to do life by herself. Not then.”
Kostos’ face was shadowed with sorrow. “That’s a terrible story.”
“It’s been hard for me to reconcile the Neal I knew with the one from the diaries,” Nancy offered.
“Did he ever treat you the way he treated his first wife?”
Nancy shook her head. “Never. He always made me feel very loved, very respected. He completely changed my life.”
