“No,” Eben answered firmly. “Absolutely not. I haven’t had feelings for him since I was seventeen.”
“Nothing? Because if I—”
“Augusta, that’s like me asking if you still have feelings for Andrew Eagleman from your eight-grade prom, or that Caveman guy from college.”
“Oh, nooooo.” Augusta laughed. “Don’t compare Colin to the Caveman.”
“He was weirdly hot, though, right?” Eben said thoughtfully.
“THANK YOU!”
When the kidscame backfrom the hayride, they all went to the barn to drink cider and watch the apple press. The barn was ramshackle and dusty, fragrant with cloves and cinnamon, chocolate chip cookies, and fresh-baked pies. The kids all swarmed to the back, where through the wall of windows you could see the huge green press, apples running up a conveyor belt, squished into pulp, and then poured into a giant accordion-like contraption that squeezed out the juice. Even as an adult, there was something oddly satisfying about watching the fruit skitter down the chutes, the water spraying everywhere, the gooey pulp shooting from a hose, and Augusta perched on a wooden stool next to Fran, half chatting, half utterly absorbed in the apple drama.
Bailey arrived with Dylan in a stroller, a little lion’s mane tied around his head. He had just turned one and was clearly Van’s child, constantly on the move, walking a little but mostly crawling at top speed, opening anything he could get his hands on, knocking furniture over and pulling everything out of cabinets. “You’re staying buckled for now, Bubba.” Bailey shook her head at Dylan, and he offered her a gummy smile. She looked glamorous as ever in brown suede boots and a shearling jacket, and when she hugged Augusta, she enveloped her in a cloud of perfume.
“Is Van coming?”
“Yeah, he was riding his bike out here. He’s training for a triathlon, which sounds like my personal version of hell, but you know how he is.” Bailey shrugged.
“Are you guys getting along?”
“It’s really good.” Bailey beamed. “Now that Dylan is a little bigger and eating real food Van can actually take him for weekends sometimes, so we’re kind of moving to a new phase where we’re both seeinglots of Dylan but separately. We’re not attached at the hip and annoying the fuck out of each other anymore. It’s just…easier.”
“And Van’s happy?” Fran asked. She was wearing a college hoodie and ratty old sneakers and she looked like she could be on her way to haul in lobster traps or drive a Zamboni.
“I dunno,” said Bailey thoughtfully. “I think he’s doing this triathlon to keep himself busy. I actually think he misses Caroline Lash.”
“Seriously?” Augusta was surprised.
“Do they still talk?” asked Fran.
“No. Van knows it would be disloyal for him to see her again. And she moved back to New York. I heard some surfer guy with a curly mullet moved into the fellowship cottage on Pavilion.”
“Hunh.” Augusta thought about it. “You know, Caroline was sort of doomed from the start.”
“Why?”
“She fell in love with someone who was fundamentally unavailable. And on top of that, I was pretty cold to her.” Augusta shrugged. “I wanted you and Van to be a couple, so I was unfriendly on purpose. I’m not saying that outing Colin was a good thing to do, I still think she sucks.”
“She does suck,” Fran said thoughtfully. “But we did finally get our shit together, though. RJ isn’t drinking, he and I are getting married, Colin and Eben can be friends again, and Bailey…well, Bailey was perfect all along and didn’t need to change.” She smiled and Bailey patted her hair.
Bailey’s phone buzzed and she looked at it and pretended to roll her eyes while looking privately pleased.
“What?”
“Just this guy. We went outtwiceand he’s now texting me to hang out again. He sent me flowers after our first date!” Bailey sighed helplesslylike this was one of life’s great annoyances, being constantly love bombed by any male who crossed her path.
“Anyone we know?” asked Fran.
“No.” Bailey shook her head. “He was in town for that movie. He’s a producer or an agent or something. His name is Ned Clark.”
“Hunh.” Augusta shrugged. “Well, let the poor guy down easy.”
Van arrived,sweaty and wearing his helmet indoors, and joined the other guys by the windows. Augusta watched them jostling around, cheering for the orchard worker in a green hairnet who dumped a fresh load of apples into the chute. She felt a smile on her lips. She watched Fran and Bailey, her dearest friends, all grown up but the same people she’d loved as a girl. The children crowded against the glass, bumping up against each other like puppies, shrieking with delight as the apples skittered along the tracks, and Augusta was flooded with a deep sense of gratitude so powerful, so light, that she felt her heart might burst like an apple in the press, a pulpy, happy mess of joy.
Epilogue
Caroline
