Then again, she had no idea if the Legacy Club was still around.
Maybe, like so many historical things, the club had dried up.
But something told her that wasn’t so.
With bated breath, Hannah searched for the Legacy Club online. Just as she’d suspected, there was no website, and certainly no social media presence. She laughed at the very idea of a secret society having an Instagram page. But that didn’t mean that the Legacy Club had escaped all online notice. Most of the mentions of them were in local write-ups, announcements of sailing races, or local picnics on the various beaches. They were listed as sponsors of various groups, but they were discussed only in vague terms. They were referred to as “important local supporters” and “an essential foundation of Nantucket.” It was difficult to tell whether the journalists who’d written about the Legacy Club—with publication dates ranging from the 1950s to the 2020s—were pandering to them, supporting them out of fear, or genuinely respecting them and wanting to show that respect.
There were no photographs of the people involved in the Legacy Club, at least not online, which didn’t surprise Hannah either. Still, she was annoyed. She wanted to know more.
Maybe the library held the key? But already, the library was closing for the night, which meant that Hannah’s obsession had to be put to rest as well. She closed her laptop and texted Minnie.
Hannah: How are things going? Happy summer vacation!
Minnie: We grabbed burgers, now we’re going to the movies. I’ll be home late. I’ll be safe, don’t worry.
Hannah sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. She wished Minnie would spend a little more time with her for a change. But she knew better than to ask for that, especially after everything that had happened.
For the first time in nearly a month, Hannah thought of Natalie. They’d had an awkward start. Natalie hadn’t been thrilled that Hannah crashed Thomas Bard’s funeral. But Hannah supposed that she could still make up with Natalie, if only to get more information about the Legacy Club. She could play dumb about the awkwardness at the funeral. She could pretend that everything was fine.
After a brief internal pep-talk, Hannah called her, and Natalie picked up right away, using that false, happy voice that Hannah knew not to trust. “Where have you been, Hannah Moore?” Natalie asked.
Hannah used her own charm in return. “I’ve been busy with this fixer-upper! You weren’t lying when you said there was a lot to do.” She went on to say she loved getting her hands dirty, that she was “building herself a new life post-divorce.” She could tell that Natalie liked that. She could practically feel Natalie, making excuses for Hannah, telling herself that Hannah had acted so strangely because she had a broken heart.
“Honey, you must come over. We’re having a few people out on the veranda for wine and cheese. Right now!”
Hannah knew better than to refuse an offer like that. “I’m on my way,” she said.
Hannah had only ever seenphotographs of Natalie’s enormous beachside “cottage” online. What Natalie called a cottage was, of course, more of a mansion, with enormous, glowing baywindows, three different wings (one of which they seemed only to use for special occasions), two kitchens, and a veranda that stretched extravagantly across one of the most beautiful white beaches Hannah had ever seen. On the veranda was a long, ornate table, at which sat beautiful Nantucketers, wearing linen and silk and fine fabrics. Natalie, who was wearing a white dress and a shade of lipstick that suited her perfectly, handed Hannah a glass of orange wine and gushed, “I’m so glad you reached out! I was wondering when I should introduce you to the gang.”
The “gang” looked to be twelve people from the area of Siasconset, one of the wealthier areas of Nantucket Island. Natalie dropped her lips to Hannah’s ear to whisper, “See that guy off to the right? The one in the sweater? He’s single. And not newly single. Like he’s a single father, and his ex-wife moved to the city four years ago.”
Hannah knew this meant Natalie wanted to play cupid. She wanted to be the hero, to match one of her friends up with a woman she thought she still knew. Hannah knew, too, that Natalie had thought even further ahead to engagement parties and wedding speeches.
“Go on! Sit by him!” Natalie urged.
“Isn’t that too obvious?” Hannah asked.
“You have to make things happen in this life.” Natalie narrowed her eyes. “I thought that’s why you came to Nantucket in the first place.” There was something sour at the edge of her words.
Hannah decided not to press things. She smiled, raised her glass, and walked over to the table, where she grabbed a seat directly beside the only single man. He smelled of expensive cologne and hair gel, and he introduced himself as Jim. Hannah shook his hand. “Hi, Jim,” she said. “I’m Hannah Moore. I went to college with Natalie.”
“She was saying!” Jim smiled in a way that made Hannah think he could be really, really mean. Something in his smile reminded her of Kendall. “Tell us. What was Natalie like back in college?”
Natalie laughed on the other side of the table. “Don’t tell him any of my secrets, Hannah!”
Hannah continued to smile. She felt lobotomized. But she knew better than to tell Natalie’s new friends about who Natalie had once been, far more fun, far more intellectual, with a rapid streak that had made her want to party deep into the night.
“She was a wild one!” Hannah teased emptily.
Everyone at the table erupted with laughter. Hannah felt insane. She sipped her orange wine and watched as all the couples turned to one another to converse, leaving Hannah and Jim to their own devices. Jim seemed to understand that he was meant to flirt with her. This touched her heart, if only a little bit. Maybe he was lonely, too.
For a little while, Jim told her about his consulting company, about growing up in Nantucket, about his friendship with Natalie and her handsome husband. He talked about what it was like to be a single father in a world of single mothers, and said, “Most people give me way too much credit. But single mothers don’t get any of the same credit I do, despite doing the same job as me.”
This touched Hannah’s heart, too. It was an enormous surprise to find out that Jim was not a bad guy, that he wasn’t even a boring guy. Maybe she wasn’t attracted to him, and maybe she’d come to Natalie’s place with a plan that had nothing to do with falling in love, but that wasn’t Jim’s fault.
Eventually, as stars began to pepper the dark skies above, the party broke up. Jim had finished his glass of wine long ago, and he looked a little bit cold but too frightened to show it. There was something blue about his lips. Hannah fought her urge to put ablanket on his lap. She cursed herself for letting time pass and not having asked him about the Legacy Club.
“I enjoyed our conversation,” Jim said, sliding his fingers through his hair. The others around them were getting up, buttoning their jackets. “I wonder if you’d like to do this again sometime?”
