At the edge of the oyster-crusted east side of the island, she sat on a fallen log. She knew better than to walk over oyster beds; it was the exact right way to slice her feet to smithereens with the shell’s edges sharp as razors. She thought about Red living here and what a stupid damn name Red was when Ned was perfectly fine.
What would the flock do for the next forty-eight hours? No spa. No shopping. No internet. No TV. Good Lord. Beatrice was accustomed to a day so full that she never, not once, finished anything on the to-do list that she scribbled every morning on her beautiful stationery. Looking about, she was thrilled that at the last minute she’d packed her sketchpad and pastels. She’d try and capture this mystical place, which was a lot better than doing what she had been doing the past four days: obsessing, ruminating, and crying.
A motorboat’s hum interrupted her thoughts and she went jogging, her flip-flops slapping her heels, toward the dock, the dock that looked as if it might blow away in the next storm, to see Red arriving with her three best friends, their overnight bags piled like a stone cairn. They each held a hand over their hat. Victoria’s voice rose above the rest; Beatrice would know it anywhere.
The women stepped out of the boat and onto the dock, laughter following, their exclamations overlapping. Beatrice’s heart rose to each woman.
Rose, their swan, in her pink and green Lilly Pulitzer sundress and matching hat, her still-blond hair pulled behind in a low knot; she was first off the boat and she ran toward Beatrice, almost tripping in her strappy sandals. “This is so charming. So adorable. I’m so happy to see you.” She threw her arms around Beatrice and left a hot pink lipstick mark on her cheek.
Victoria, in full makeup, a blue dress flapping behind her just like the wild Blue Bird of Paradise she had once chosen, made her way toward Beatrice with a sway of her hips. “Dear God Almighty. This looks dreamy.” Her smile was huge, not wrinkling her face and cheeks. Just enough plastic surgery to smooth the edges, not enough to look done. That was always Victoria’s goal. She kissed Beatrice and then slipped her arm through Rose’s as Daisy was still gathering her bags.
Daisy, their little starling, stood at the end of the dock a few yards away, slinging her backpack over her shoulder and taking in the group of friends. She waved and hollered. “This is the absolute best. Look at us, we’ll live like the Swiss Family Robinson.”
Red, behind her, laughed and picked up as many bags as he could and followed Daisy down the dock. Daisy wore a bright red sundress and feather earrings that brushed her shoulders. Her red hair, now mostly silver and shoulder length, caught the breeze and flew into her eyes just as she threw her arms around Beatrice.
“This is the most perfect thing in the world. All of us together on a deserted island. The only thing missing is Dani.”
They all nodded and stayed silent for a moment, thoughts of Dani blowing past. Victoria wiped at her forehead. “So. The first thing I need is a drink and to see what our Pegasus has gotten us into now. What’s inside? One can only guess by the absolute decrepit outside.”
Beatrice laughed and shook her head. “Victoria, have you met Red?” She nodded her head toward him and he nodded back.
“Of course.”
“This is his house.”
Victoria bit her bottom lip. “Sorry. Sometimes when I try to be funny, I’m an idiot. As the girls will well attest, I mean no harm.”
Red smiled and carried the bags inside, saying not a word.
* * *
An hour later, each woman had chosen their room and reconvened in the kitchen. Red stood at the far end of the living room as quiet and still as a coatrack until he asked. “Anything else you ladies need?”
“No.” Beatrice looked to her friends. “Anything ya’ll need before he takes off?”
“Not that I can think of just now,” Victoria said with a coy flirt that made the other women groan.
“How will we get ahold of you if we need anything?” Beatrice asked. “No service.”
“I’ll be right outside.”
“Excuse me?” Beatrice’s eyebrows raised in a question.
“The shelter a hundred yards away.” He waved his hand east. “There . . . I’ll be there.”
Beatrice took a step toward this tall man and then back toward the safety of her friends. “I don’t understand. You rented us the island . . . and . . .”
“I rented you the house. You won’t even know I’m here unless you come calling. I can promise you that. If you need anything, I’m here. If not, I’m as invisible as air.” With those words, he exited the house and the screen door slammed back on its hinges with a pop.
“He’s staying here?” Rose asked. “I can’t tell Chip. He’d lose his mind if he thought I was on a desert island with a man.”
Victoria rolled her long-eyelashed eyes and made a snorting sound. “It is good to know not much has changed. You can’t go more than ten minutes without saying his name. Chip. Chip. Chip. God help us.”
Beatrice popped Victoria’s shoulder. “Let’s play nice and stay focused. This weekend is about my drama.”
Great smiles rose on their faces, and the sound of the wind breezing through the palmetto leaves whispered through the screen door.
Daisy, so quiet until now, broke into the conversation. “I like that Red is here. Makes me feel . . . safer.”
“Our little starling, the more people, the better for you.” Victoria hugged Daisy with one arm and drew her close.
Daisy smiled with the truth and looked to Beatrice. “Okay, Pegasus, tell us what we can do to help?”
Almost as one they moved the few steps toward the living room and plopped down on the couches and chairs to sit in a circle. A fresh breeze that smelled of burned firewood and dark mud wafted through. The far-off hum of a boat joined in the chorus.
“This is really nice,” Victoria said and snuggled further into the plaid couch. “It feels like we are a million miles away instead of a ten-minute boat ride across the water. Now tell us what happened.”
Beatrice took a breath and started from the beginning, taking sips of white wine in between breaths, staying her tears, keeping her mind occupied with telling the story in a linear way so they would understand, so they would help her know what to do.
“So now. I don’t know what to do . . . or nothing I do will matter.”
Rose chimed in first. “Do you love him? Like Swan-mate-for-life love him?”
Victoria coughed out a laugh, her vodka and lemonade drink almost snorting from her nose. “I don’t know what that even means. What are you talking about swan-love? For God’s sake, Rose. Not everyone is Chip Chip Chip.”
“I didn’t even say his name,” Rose protested. “You did. I just meant to ask if Beatrice loves Lachlan in a way that makes her want to stay with him for the rest of her life?”
Daisy, whose husband had unexpectantly died of an aneurysm six years ago, was trying to navigate the dating scene now that her two girls were off at college, piped up. “Rose just means,” she turned to Beatrice. “Do you love him enough?”
“That’s the thing,” Beatrice said leaning forward into her knees and into the question. “What’s enough? When we were in college, all we imagined was finding the right one. The fairy tales, the movies, the plays, the books: everyone found their soul mate. For God’s sake, we even went to a psychic to see who would find their star-twin first.” Beatrice looked about the room at her friends. “Who was it?”