Jasmine felt something cold and hard drop into her stomach. It was difficult, watching this young couple encounter a dispute that she’d felt had defined her life fifty years ago. Jasmine guessed that the young wife wanted children, that she couldn’t imagine her life without them. But she guessed, too, that the young wife had worked tirelessly toward her career, that she imagined she was a twenty-first-century woman who could have it all.
Why was her husband stuck in the past?
Maybe because Jasmine was overcome with what Jenny had done in revealing her identity to Oriana Coleman, or perhapsbecause she was going insane, she suddenly stood to her feet and called over to the husband and wife. “Excuse me?”
The husband was still digging into his wife, telling her that she needed to uphold her “duty” as his partner. But there was nothing of a partnership between them. He wanted to order her around, just as Larry had.
“Excuse me?” Jasmine called out, finding depth in her voice.
Alyssa and Jade turned to gape at their grandmother. Embarrassment and curiosity flooded their eyes.What on earth is Grandma doing?they seemed to think.
Finally, the husband yanked around and asked of Jasmine, “What’s the problem, huh?”
Jasmine’s heartbeat was quick and weak like a rabbit’s. “I’m not talking to you. I’m talking to your wife,” she said.
The man’s wife looked suddenly shrunken, as though she desperately wanted Jasmine to stop doing whatever she was doing.
The man whacked his hand on his thigh. “All right? She’s here. She’s listening.”
The wife gaped at Jasmine.
Jasmine got up, took a hesitant step from the blanket, and dug her toes into the sand. “I don’t mean to intrude,” she began, but she corrected herself right away. “Actually, I do. I do mean to intrude. I want to tell you that you can’t let this man dictate how you live your life. You have every right to go after your career. You have every right to live as well and as fully as you can. And this man, this man who doesn’t respect you? Maybe he doesn’t have a place in that life.” Jasmine was speaking so rapidly, so frantically, that she thought she might collapse.
The young woman closed her lips, as though Jasmine’s outburst so floored her that she didn’t know what to say. Her husband reached for her hand, eager to rip her away, but shepulled her own hand back from his too soon and blinked and blinked at Jasmine.
“Don’t let this crazy old woman tell you anything about yourself,” he muttered.
“I might be crazy,” Jasmine said, remembering the hours and hours of heartache she’d experienced back in Colorado, remembering how frightened she’d been on the bus from Boulder to Los Angeles, aching for a future she couldn’t name. “But I’ve lived long enough to recognize an abuser when I see one. I hope you know you can always get out.”
Not long after that, the couple trudged quietly back through the sand, headed for their rental car. Jasmine sat down and wrapped her arms around her legs, listening to the waves as they crashed across the beach. She could feel Alyssa’s, Jade’s, Chase’s, and Jenny’s eyes upon her. She’d never acted like that in front of any of them. But she’d always been that strong, that alive, that brave.
“Grandma,” Jade said finally, breaking the silence. “That was so cool.”
Jasmine laughed, throwing her head back. She was sure that this was the first time that Jade had ever called her “cool.” Maybe the kids had stopped using that word the way they’d first used it in the seventies. Who knew?
“Seriously,” Chase said, nodding.
That night as they walked back to the apartment, Jenny sidled up next to Jasmine and took her hand. The three kids were up ahead, gasping with giggles.
“Mom,” Jenny said gently, “I want to apologize for calling Oriana Coleman. It wasn’t my place. Not after everything you’ve done for me. For us.”
Jasmine filled her lungs. Something about the encounter with the husband and wife back on the beach had put everything in perspective. She couldn’t say why.
“I don’t know what I want out of any of this,” Jasmine said suddenly, surprising herself. “I don’t know if I want my face plastered all over the news, or my new name on every headline. I don’t know if I want fame in the traditional sense of the word, certainly not after living such a peaceful and beautiful life on the island.” Jasmine closed her eyes. “I know we’re dirt-poor, Jenny. I know it would make our lives easier if I just opened myself up to this. But I’m scared.”
Jenny squeezed Jasmine’s hand harder. “Let’s give Oriana a call. You can tell her exactly what’s on your mind. We’ll hear what she has to say. All right?”
Jasmine closed her eyes and nodded.
She prayed she wouldn’t regret this decision one day. She prayed she’d be able to keep her beautiful and private life.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Early June on Martha’s Vineyard was a time of turquoise waters and glorious sunshine and sailboats sweeping sleepily along the coast. Oriana was on the veranda of her home, her forearms on the railing as she watched her grandson and her beloved husband, Reese, playing in the sand. Reese was passionate, throwing their grandson into the air and catching him just in the nick of time, so that their grandson burst with giggles that echoed across the waves. Oriana brushed tears from her eyes. She couldn’t believe how far they’d come.
There were footsteps behind her, and Oriana righted herself to find Meghan, carrying two glasses of rosé and wearing a sensational smile. Hugo was behind her, carrying a six-pack of beer and gesturing toward the grill in the corner. “I’m ready when you are,” he said. “Hope you’re hungry!”
“Starving,” Oriana affirmed, her heart skipping.
