She gets a text from Kacy: We’re leaving now, are you sure you can’t join us? We can cruise over and be there in twenty.
Coco gnaws on her bottom lip. She hates to lie, but oh, well: Wish I could! Leslee wants me to detail her car. Have fun!
She springs into action. Bikini, cutoffs, an old Soggy Dollar T-shirt, her straw bag that looks cute as long as you don’t get close enough to see the fraying fibers and the holes. She waits at her apartment window until Leslee pops out of Triple Eight wearing a white tennis skirt and visor, gets into her shiny G-Wagon (Coco took it to the car wash the day before), and crunches off down the shell driveway.
There are some things Coco wants from the big house. Is she brave enough to take them?
Yes. She snatches a bottle of Tanqueray and a bottle of champagne. From the kitchen, she swipes sugar packets and… two of the Amalfi lemons. Her straw bag is sagging with the weight; the bottles clink against each other, making what can only be described as a pilfered-alcohol sound. But it’s fine; Leslee is gone, Bull is back to yelling on the phone, this time in a foreign language. The man contains multitudes, and Coco makes a mental note to look up the Nullarbor Plain.
She heads out to the beach, whistles, and waves her arms. Sorry, Kace, she thinks. She has another kind of fishing in mind.
18. Whale Island
When Romeo leaves Blond Sharon at her house on Saturday night after the Richardsons’ party (and after they dragged Robert home from the Candyland that is Baxter Morse’s house), he tells her he’ll call her about going out for a ride on his boat.
“I’d love it!” Sharon says.
Sunday he doesn’t call—it’s too soon anyway. Monday he doesn’t call—he’s probably working at the Steamship. On the way to the Field and Oar Club for her tennis lesson with Mateo, Sharon is tempted to swing through the ferry parking lot just to say hello. She can’t stop thinking about how handsome Romeo looked in his bow tie and madras pants. Images of all the times over the years that Romeo directed Sharon’s car on and off the ferry come flooding back. How had she never noticed his animal magnetism? Well, most of those times she was in the car with Walker and her children. Of course she wasn’t going to lust after Romeo from the Steamship! In the end, she doesn’t turn into the Steamship parking lot, though it pulls at her like a magnet.
Tuesday he doesn’t call, and Sharon tries not to pine—but once Sterling and Colby are at their internship and she’s dropped Robert off at Strong Wings bike camp, she thinks, Of course he won’t call. Romeo can have any woman he wants on this island. Why would he choose Sharon, who has three children and a fussy lifestyle? Still, Romeo was so sweet and attentive at the party. He’d insisted on coming with Sharon to the Morse house and he was so cute and funny with Robert in the car, talking to him about MrBeast, who apparently they both watch on YouTube (should Sharon be concerned about this?), that Sharon became what can only be described as enamored.
On Wednesday morning, Sharon is awoken by a text. It’s Romeo: Boat this afternoon? I finish work after the noon ferry leaves.
Ahhh! Sharon jumps out of bed. Should she answer right away or play it cool and wait?
She answers right away: I can make that work.
Great! Let’s meet at the town dock at 12:30. I’ll grab sandwiches.
Sharon shrieks with joy. Suddenly she’s the heroine in a story about second chances!
Speaking of stories… Sharon realizes that if she goes with Romeo, she’ll miss her online writing class. Is she going to sacrifice her newfound interest in the literary arts for… a man? Didn’t she do enough of that in her marriage?
Sharon has printed out the last two lines of Mary Oliver’s poem “The Summer Day” and once again taped it to her bedroom mirror. Tell me, what is it you plan to do / with your one wild and precious life?
The lines taunt her. Would this day be better spent sitting in front of her laptop discussing Nancy’s character study set at the Registry of Motor Vehicles—or going boating with Romeo?
No contest, Sharon thinks. She hurries to her closet to pick an outfit.
There have been no more texts from Isla, and Kacy worries that she’s pushed things too far. She wants to make Isla jealous enough to leave Rondo; she doesn’t want Isla to give up because she thinks Kacy has moved on.
She won’t text Isla, but she does indulge her second-worst impulse and checks Rondo’s Instagram. There, she finds a picture of Isla and Rondo in Napa Valley at the Round Pond Estate vineyard. They’re seated at a rough-hewn wooden table with a grand charcuterie platter in front of them and rows of grapes behind; they hold their wineglasses as though they contain liquid gold. Isla is breathtaking in a simple black tank dress that deepens her summer tan. She’s wearing red lipstick; her diamond ring glitters on her finger.
Kacy aches with love.
The caption reads: We’ve decided on Round Pond sauvignon blanc for our reception! Followed by the wineglass emoji.
The Round Pond sauvignon blanc is Kacy’s favorite, as Isla well knows.
Now Kacy just aches.
Her mood sinks even lower when she learns that Coco can’t come out on the fishing boat—but it’s a gorgeous day, and Kacy won’t waste it.
Eric’s fishing boat, Beautiful Day, is nicer than Kacy expected (she’s never been on it; it’s amazing how much you miss when you live on the opposite coast for seven years). She heard fishing boat and thought of a floating piece of machinery with rigging and nets. But Eric’s boat has a glossy green hull and white leather cushions. There’s a fighting chair up front and outrigger lines, but there’s plenty of space to lounge as well, which is what Kacy wants to do. She strips down to her bikini and lies across the long bench in the stern next to Avalon.
“Please make yourself at home,” Eric jokes. “I take it Coco couldn’t come?”
“She has to detail Leslee’s car today,” Kacy says.
“Does she ever say what it’s like working for the Richardsons?” Avalon asks as she tears open a bag of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos. (Avalon eats like a stoned frat boy—her favorite foods are meat lovers’ pizza and anything you find in a vending machine.)
“Don’t you know what it’s like?” Kacy asks. “Aren’t you Leslee’s masseuse?”
“Was,” Avalon says. She pops open a Gripah, which is Cisco Brewers’ idea of a breakfast beer. Kacy helps herself to one as well and tries not to let her mind wander to the NICU, to all the preemies fighting for their lives while Kacy is in the sun drinking before noon. “She called me to do an at-home massage, but I said no.”
“I thought you did at-home massages all the time,” Kacy says.
“Oh, I do!” Avalon says. “But the Richardsons give me the creeps. This one night, Eric and I were at the Box and Leslee Richardson started grinding with me, and then in the ladies’ room she asked if Eric and I wanted to come back to their hotel room.”
“Whoa!” Kacy says. Eric is standing at the ship’s wheel, his expression inscrutable behind his wraparound sunglasses. Eric is cut from the same cloth as their father—he’s a man of few words, but steady, straight, and true. “You mean to tell me you aren’t the swinging type, E?”
“That,” Eric says, “I am not.” They cruise out of the harbor, and he cranks up the horsepower. “Billy told me the stripers are biting over by Tuckernuck, so that’s where we’re going. Not that either of you care.”
“So anyway,” Avalon says, licking nuclear-orange cheese dust off her fingers, “that’s why I won’t work on her.”
“Wow,” Kacy says. These are the first negative words she’s heard about the Richardsons. Everyone else on the island is hopelessly in love with them.
Lamont appears on the deck of Hedonism. He waves at Coco on the shore and calls, “What’s good?”
