And then, suddenly, the double-wide French doors to the veranda parted, and their angelic mother Francesca Whitmore appeared, wearing a silk robe, her penetrating eyes pegging him. It was evident that he would never escape her. He didn’t even want to. “My darling Alexander,” she said, almost like a song. “I never thought I’d see you again.”
Chapter Nine
June 1996
Nantucket Island
It was the summer solstice and one of the first grand parties at the White Oak Lodge of the season. Everyone who was everyone would be coming: guests who’d frequented the White Oak Lodge for generations, film directors, actors, models, and other islander elites. Alexander detested it and had tried to get out of it every year since he could remember. Unfortunately, Francesca had insisted that Alexander attend, saying, “There will be beautiful islanders there, darling. Don’t you think it’s time you got out there and found out what kind of woman you want as your wife?” Although Alexander would rather have been out on his boat, escaping his family and their expectations, his mother rejected all of his excuses. He was nearly twenty-two years old and, in her eyes, ready for the next stage of his life—provided that stage linked up with the White Oak Lodge and his so-called legacy.
Alexander finished his chores for the day at four thirty, showered, and padded downstairs to find Nina on the back porch, playing with a caterpillar. She wore a light-pink dress that made her neck itch. He remembered the dress because Francesca had always made Charlotte wear it a few years ago, and probably Allegra and Lorelei before that. Francesca always wanted to teach her daughters that fashion was more important than comfort. Alexander had never been clear whether that was an Italian thing or a Francesca thing.
“Hey, squirt,” he said, sitting beside his kid sister.
“Shh,” Nina said, raising her finger to show the caterpillar as it slunk across. “We have to be very quiet. We don’t want to frighten him.”
“How do you know it’s a he?”
Nina gave Alexander a curious and pained look, as though she couldn’t believe how stupid her older brother could be.
“Did I say the wrong thing again?” Alexander teased her.
Her eyes going from left to right, Nina whispered, “I heard Mom talking. She said she invited Belle.”
Alexander grimaced. “Did she?”
Nina nodded furiously, so much so that the caterpillar shook on her finger. She apologized to the bug and returned to their little world together, as Alexander took off, fuming. How could his mother do this to him? It was apparent why she’d insisted he come to the party. It was a setup.
Belle was Alexander’s ex-girlfriend from high school. After graduation, when Alexander hadn’t been allowed to go to college for White Oak Lodge reasons, Belle had gone off to the University of Rhode Island. Over the phone, she’d made him promise to visit her. “Every weekend,” she’d said. But Alexander hadn’t been able to get off the island that often. His father needed his help at the Lodge, his siblings needed his help at home, and his mother had expectations as well. Soon, thepressure became too much. The phone calls were too frequent, and Alexander told Belle they needed to break up. Belle had been heartbroken, sobbing over the landline, asking him to visit so they could talk it out. But Alexander had never gone to see her. He hadn’t told anyone in his family what had gone wrong, either.
The truth was, he hadn’t really liked her that much. He’d realized when she’d left that he was happier without her. He wasn’t sure if that was cruel. Then again, teenagers broke up all the time. It was a part of life.
Now, Belle was probably entering her final year of college, which was hard to believe. It made Alexander feel just as itchy as Nina probably was in that dress. He’d wanted to go to college and prep for flight school. He’d wanted to have an incredible life, like Belle and the others he’d graduated with.
Alexander found his mother in the massive hotel kitchen, where she assessed the hors d’oeuvres prepped by the caterers and triple-checked the desserts for the evening ahead. Linked up with Benjamin, Francesca was a very capable teammate in all things White Oak Lodge, Alexander knew. Benjamin respected her a great deal. Together, they’d made the Lodge more prosperous than it had ever been in the hands of previous Whitmores.
“Mom, did you invite Belle to the party?” Alexander demanded in Italian so that nobody else in the kitchen would understand. (Then again, he imagined that some of their Lodge staff members had picked up Italian over the years and hid it from the Whitmores.)
Francesca didn’t look away from her list. “Of course I did. She’s a friend of the family.”
“She’s my ex-girlfriend.”
“Oh, Alexander. How old are you again? People get back together all the time. Adults know how to look past their differences.” With a sigh, Francesca delicately pressed her penbehind her ear and switched back to English to tell the caterers what to do next. The guests would begin arriving in twenty minutes, which meant she didn’t have much time to waste on Alexander and his problems—problems she’d created, by the way.
When Alexander hung around too long, she swatted him. “Get out there. Have a drink, for crying out loud. You’re a strong, American man, aren’t you? Just because Belle broke up with you…”
“I broke up with Belle!” Alexander said.
Francesca rolled her eyes. “Well, that was your mistake, wasn’t it?”
It was clear his mother had no intentions of listening to him. Alexander walked out of the kitchen, his head hung in feelings of shame and annoyance.
But outside, the party had already begun among the hotel staff who were off for the night, Whitmore family members, and the elite hotel guests. A string quintet played on the veranda, and Allegra and Lorelei were dancing a fake waltz, their dresses whipping around their knees. Benjamin was chatting happily with Tio Angelo in his broken Italian, laughing. It was rare to see Tio Angelo and his father getting along so well. Sometimes the animosity between them had the air in the Lodge so thick that you could cut it like butter. Alexander wondered if, like him, his father suspected that Tio Angelo was up to no good. When he remembered how his uncle had threatened him, a chill ran down his spine. Sometimes he wondered if that had really happened.
Soon, Charlotte sidled up to him and nodded toward a group of cars coming down the road. “Here we go,” she said. “Good luck.”
Alexander wrinkled his nose. “You heard about…”
“Your ex? Of course. Mom’s told everyone she arranged it,” Charlotte said. “She wants us to know that she’s the clever one who got you two back together. Matchmaker!”
