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Katrina shook her head ever so slightly, her honey-brown hair shaking over her ears. “I’ll sit with her while you’re gone.”
As Sophie walked down the hallway, she sensed her mother’s eyes upon her, watching her every move. It wasn’t until sherounded the corner and was out of sight that she breathed easier, her shoulders loosening.
Fifteen minutes before the ferry was set to disembark, Sophie and Katrina ambled wordlessly out of the hospital, got into their separate vehicles, and drove to the Nantucket ferry docks. The plan was to take just one car to Martha’s Vineyard—
Grant’s—which he’d already parked on the ferry. Grant and Patrick waited for them near the ticket booth, dressed in so many layers that they resembled onions. Grant was eating what looked to be a sandwich filled with leftover Christmas ham.
“There they are!” Grant welcomed Sophie and Katrina as they approached, hugging Katrina first, then wrapping Sophie in one. “Happy New Year, darling.”
“Happy New Year back,” Sophie said, sliding from her father to Patrick. Patrick looked jittery, shifting his weight from foot to foot. She imagined he was nervous, carrying the secrets of their engagement and pregnancy in front of her father.
“And how is she?” Grant asked, turning to lead them to the ferry ramp.
“Just as stubborn as ever,” Sophie said.
“I can’t imagine that will ever change,” Grant said, flashing her a smile. “Birds will fly, fish will swim, and Agatha Whittaker will be stubborn. Forevermore.”
Sophie chuckled, throwing her head back. Grant looked pleased. When Sophie and Ida were growing up, Grant had always been the playful, loving father, while Katrina had to be the responsible one.
Sophie, Patrick, Grant, and Katrina found seats in the ferry café, where Grant bought everyone hot chocolates and chattedhappily about the sports he’d watched on television that day. Having watched them as well, Patrick joined in, his upper lip stained with hot chocolate. This left Katrina and Sophie out of the loop, staring out the ferry window at the sloshing, angry waves.
When there was a lull in the conversation, Sophie cleared her throat. “Sam said something about Margorie Tomlinson coming to the party today?”
“Who’s that again?” Grant asked.
“She accused Estelle of copying her book,” Katrina said in a low rasp.
“That’s right!” Grant snapped his fingers. “What a racket that was! Why would she be at the party?”
“She’s dating Meghan’s best friend,” Sophie answered with a laugh. “Daniel? He owns that bookstore on Martha’s Vineyard.”
“Should I throw him out?” Grant asked.
“Estelle and Margorie made up,” Katrina reminded him. “Don’t you remember the story Estelle told on Christmas? She found out that Margorie and Roland briefly went to college together. That Margorie had a big crush on him before Roland dropped out and returned home.”
Grant rubbed the back of his neck. “Jealousy is a powerful thing.”
“It nearly destroyed Estelle’s career,” Katrina said. “I wouldn’t have forgiven Margorie half as quickly as Estelle did.”
“I think it’s beautiful,” Sophie offered, crossing her ankles. “Margorie explained where she was coming from. She’s fully aware of her flaws. I don’t know why Estelle would continue to punish her for them.”
Even as Sophie said it, she recognized that she wasn’t fully talking about Margorie anymore. In many ways, this conversation was suddenly about Sophie. About her addiction.About all the work she’d done to “clear her name” to earn her mother’s love.
Maybe it would never be enough for Katrina. Maybe she would never forgive her.
As the ferry eased toward the Oak Bluffs ferry, Grant, Katrina, Sophie, and Patrick finished their hot chocolates and went downstairs to find Grant’s car. Very few vehicles were parked in the parking zone, and Grant was able to glide down the ramps without much fuss, dropping down from the ramp and onto the concrete dock.
“Welcome to Martha’s Vineyard!” Grant announced, tapping his palm on the steering wheel. “Who’s ready for another evening of feasting?”
Oriana Coleman and her husband, Reese, owned a very large home that stretched along the northwestern coast of Martha’s Vineyard. The rolling hills split into soft, sandy beaches, and seagulls circled overhead, cawing as froth from the Vineyard Sound crept along jagged rocks. On one side of Oriana’s house was a large lawn, which aligned her with her neighbor, Alan, and a Nantucket transplant, Nora, both of whom Sophie spotted as she stepped from her father’s car. Nora carried what looked like a cake tray, nodding hello with a smile. Many, many years ago, Charlie Coleman had been best friends with Nora’s son. They’d been involved in a horrific car accident, and Nora’s son hadn’t made it. Sophie still remembered that horrible time, like a bruise on her heart. Charlie had never and probably would never get over it. But these days, Nora’s great-nephew and Charlie’s daughter, Marcy, were dating and even living together in Boston. Charlie and Nora had been forced to face the demons from their past.
“Happy New Year!” Nora said as she breezed past. “When I arrived at the party a few minutes ago, I realized I’d forgotten my carrot cake! I slaved away all morning on it.”
“I can’t wait to have a slice!” Sophie said.
Nora led the four Colemans toward the front door of Oriana’s place. The house buzzed with what sounded like fifty different conversations. Children squealed, and their footsteps bounced as they raced from one end of the house to the other. As Patrick reached out to open the door, it sprang open, and Oriana smiled out, beckoning them to enter.
“Hello! Happy New Year!”
