This weekend would be difficult for Pauline. Really difficult. Margot decided to forgive her for taking the Notebook.
Margot, Jenna, Finn, Autumn, and Rhonda were due at the RJ Miller Salon at ten o’clock for manicures, pedicures, and facials-but it was such a splendid day that Margot decided to cancel her appointment. She was going to hang out at the house for a while and then take her children to Fat Ladies Beach. Margot thought Jenna might be bummed about this-really, Margot was proving to be the lamest maid of honor in the history of weddings-but Jenna just grinned wickedly and said, “Great idea. I’m canceling, too. I’m going to go kayaking with Stuart in Monomoy Creeks.”
“Wait,” Margot said. “You can’t cancel. You’re the bride.”
“So?” Jenna said.
“Don’t you want your nails done?” Margot said. “Don’t you want your skin to glow? Tomorrow, all eyes are on you, angel bear.”
“I couldn’t care less,” Jenna said. “Do you mind calling the salon?”
Margot didn’t mind calling the salon at all. First she checked with the other bridesmaids to see if there would be any other truants.
Autumn wanted to keep her appointment.
Rhonda wanted to keep her appointment, and she asked if there was a tanning bed.
“Tanning bed?” Margot said. She studied Rhonda, whose skin was evenly bronzed-possibly, if Margot was being super critical, even a little orange. Rhonda must have used a tanning bed in New York; the thought struck Margot as amusing. She had thought that tanning beds went out in the 1980s with perms and Loverboy. “If you want to get some sun, come to the beach with me and the kids,” Margot said.
“No, that’s okay,” Rhonda said quickly. “I was just wondering.”
Finn opted to cancel her appointment-not because she planned on wallowing in misery in her room, and not because she was tagging along with Jenna and Stuart’s kayaking expedition. She canceled because she was going to the beach with Nick. He was going to teach her to paddleboard.
Oh, boy, Margot thought.
“Nick is coming to Fat Ladies with us,” Margot said. “So we’ll all go together.”
Beanie and Kevin and the kids were also coming to the beach, so there would be eleven people headed to Fat Ladies.
“I’ll make sandwiches,” Margot said.
“Since when do you make sandwiches?” Kevin said. “Call Henry Jr.’s and order sandwiches. Nick and I will go to Hatch’s and get chips and soda and beer.”
“I am capable of making sandwiches, Kevin,” Margot said. “It’s not always takeout at my house, you know.”
Beanie patted Margot’s arm. “You have a job,” she said. “It’s okay.”
“What’s okay?” Margot said. “I can make sandwiches! I bought deli stuff yesterday and Portuguese bread at Something Natural. I can do peanut butter and fluff. I bought fluff! I can cut the crusts off.”
“You don’t have to prove anything,” Kevin said. “We know you’re capable of making sandwiches, but it will be easier for us to call them in.” He handed her a notepad. “Here, take everyone’s order.”
“Why don’t you take everyone’s order?” Margot said. She was inexplicably furious. She didn’t care if they made lunch or ordered it from Henry Jr.’s, but she didn’t like Kevin’s insinuation that Margot was incapable of making sandwiches and his further insinuation that in offering to do so, she was trying to prove something. Prove what? Prove that she didn’t subsist on pizza from Lombardi’s and Thai takeout? Prove that she was like their mother-she could have a career and make sandwiches?
At that moment, her father stuck his head in the back door. “Margot?” he said.
Margot thought their father was going to weigh in on the sandwich decision. Everyone had an opinion. Even Beanie had said, You have a job. It’s okay. What had that meant? Beanie could normally be counted on to side with Margot, but apparently not today.
“What?” Margot snapped.
“Can I chat with you a second?” Doug asked.
Margot stormed out the back door. Roger was directing the cherry picker into the side yard. Miraculously, the big machine steered clear of the perennial bed. The five boys stood a few yards away, their mouths agape as the cherry picker rose up and Hector clambered with the ropes into Alfie’s upper branches.
By the time they all got back from the beach, Alfie’s lowest branch would be lifted, and the tent would be up. All these emergency services would cost her father an arm and a leg, but although the Carmichael family had loads of problems, money wasn’t one of them.
“There’s an issue with the cars,” Doug said.
“The cars?” Margot said.
“You and Kevin will need your cars to get everyone to the beach,” Doug said. “Pauline will need my car to take the girls to the salon.”
“Oh,” Margot said. The logistics had eluded her. “What is Pauline going to do?”
“She’s going to the salon as well,” Doug said. “She wants to be with Rhonda.”
“Okay,” Margot said. “She can take my appointment.”
Doug nodded. “Thank you, that’s very nice. But what I really need is for you to drive me out to the golf course.”
“Okay,” Margot said. Was this okay? Hadn’t she just committed to making eleven sandwiches, or had she been overruled? She was so addled that she couldn’t remember how the disagreement had ended. “When?”
Doug looked at his watch, the Submariner that Beth had bought him for his fiftieth birthday. “Right now.”
“Right now?”
“My tee time is at ten thirty. I’m playing at Sankaty.”
Margot nearly said, Can’t Kevin take you? Or Nick? But that was ridiculous. Her brothers were never summoned to onerous tasks such as shuttling their father out to his golf game. Kevin probably felt he had to be here to supervise the branch tying or the sandwich ordering. Nick was either flexing his muscles for Finn or waxing his paddleboard. Margot’s mood grew darker. But then it occurred to her that this was exactly what she wanted-some time alone with her father. He must have wanted it, too, and that was why he’d asked her.
“Okay,” she said. “Let’s go.”
Margot negotiated Doug’s Jaguar through town, around the rotary, and out the Milestone Road. Every year as children they had ridden their bikes to Sconset to get ice cream at the market and traipse across the footbridge.