35
It’s just temporary,” Gemma said, uncomfortable with how quickly Celeste’s spare room filled up. Sanjay and Jack carried her folding workbench, side drawers, and chair up three flights of stairs. And her Flexshaft motor for her various drills and cutters. And those various drills and cutters.
“Seems like the perfect fit to me,” Celeste said. “Like the room was meant for this.”
Sanjay took a swig from his water bottle. The room didn’t have a ceiling fan and the breeze through the open window did little to combat the heat. She watched him while trying not to look like she was watching him. His thick dark hair was slightly longer, and the summer clothes—crew-neck T-shirt, cargo shorts—reminded her of his off-the-charts body.
“What a good friend you are to make this trip for Gemma,” said Celeste.
“Well, it’s not entirely selfless,” Sanjay said. “I’ve heard all about the legendary Provincetown light. I’m not sure if Gemma mentioned, but I’m a photographer, so I brought my camera and plan to make the most of it.”
Celeste nodded with enthusiasm. “Painters and photographers come here from all over the world. Starting with, oh, Charles Hawthorne back in the 1890s. There was Jackson Pollock, Lee Krasner, Franz Kline, Max Ernst, Helen Frankenthaler. I don’t know as much about photographers but I’m sure you’re in good company.”
Sanjay grinned. “I’m looking forward to the sunset tonight.”
Gemma wanted to see it with him, but she wasn’t holding her breath for an invitation.
“Where are you staying?” Celeste said.
“Alvie hooked him up with a room at Maud’s,” Gemma said.
“Oh, don’t be silly! I have an extra bedroom down the hall. I know I really should rent out the rooms but I’ve never gotten used to the idea of having strangers in my house all summer. That’s how you know I’m not a native Cape Codder.”
Gemma didn’t dare look at Sanjay, silently bargaining with the gods of fate to let him accept the offer.
“Thanks, that’s very generous of you,” Sanjay said. “But I don’t want to cancel on the other house at the last minute.” His voice and expression were so even-keeled, she could almost believe him. There was nearly no tension, no hint of subtext: I can’t stand sleeping under the same roof as my ex.
Stop thinking like that, she told herself. He was there. That was all that mattered.
Celeste left for the shop, and Sanjay checked his phone. Gemma fidgeted with her bench pin, an attachment that functioned like a third hand when she was drilling or filing. Reunited with her equipment, she was itching to get back to work. But even more than that, she found she wanted to spend time with Sanjay. The way her heart fluttered when he pulled up to the curb in the U-Haul was like if a dozen birds took flight in her chest.
“Thanks again, Sanjay. You’re a lifesaver.”
He looked up. “No problem. Like I said, I’m going to make the most of the trip.”
An awkward silence settled between them.
“So . . . the interview’s tomorrow?” he said.
She nodded.
“Okay, I need to drop off the truck and then I’m going to head over to the house.” He pulled his duffel bag over one shoulder.
“Can I at least buy you dinner? As a thank-you, I mean.”
Their eyes met, and she knew—she knew—from the expression in his that he wanted to say yes.
“It’s fine. You already said thanks.” He gave her a complicated look, one that was part pity, part regret. He brushed past her, out of the room. She followed him into the hallway. Before he reached the stairs he turned. “Good luck tomorrow. Enjoy your moment. You deserve it.”
And then he was gone.
Elodie, not a patient woman to begin with, was losing the last of her forbearance.
Every day, she made a solid effort to irritate her sister. She loitered around that antiques shop of hers, she reminded her that she wasn’t going anywhere until the papers were signed—she’d moved into Jack’s family’s house, for heaven’s sake! And nothing. Celeste had clearly become too comfortable with Elodie’s presence in town.
It was time to make her uncomfortable.
The empty storefront on Commercial was sandwiched between a T-shirt shop and a bakery. The past few days she’d tried calling the number posted in the window for leasing, but no one ever answered. Things were clearly not very buttoned up in this town, and so she would have to try a different tack. Today, she was going to make an attempt in person.
She found the front door propped open.
“Hello?” she said, stepping over copies of the Cape Cod Times and ptownie magazine left in the doorway. She almost collided with a ladder.
“Whoa—careful down there!”
Elodie looked up and found Tito perched near the ceiling, working on dangling wires.
“Tito?”
“Elodie? What are you doing here?”
Trying to save my company. And yes, it was starting to feel like that was just how important it was to get the auction underway. While she was busy putting the pressure on Celeste, her CFO was putting the pressure on her. “This is no time to be taking an extended vacation,” he said during their morning phone meeting. “This is the worst June we’ve had in a long time.”
What he didn’t say was that it was also the most competition they’d ever had. Jewelry companies—especially online companies that could sell close to cost because they didn’t have the expense of a physical space—were starting to cannibalize the market. It was getting more and more difficult to make the case that buying your engagement ring at Pavlin & Co was special. She needed something to resuscitate their glamorous image, their place above the rest. She needed this auction.
“I’m here to look at this space. I’ve called the leasing number posted in the window but I never get anyone on the phone.”
Tito climbed down the steps and removed his thick gloves.
“The owner went fishing.”
“Very funny,” she said.
“No, literally. The family is on a fishing trip all week. I’m just helping out here with some odds and ends until they get back.”
“Oh. Well, that explains things, I suppose.”
“You want to lease this space?” His dark eyes focused on her with a sharp intensity she hadn’t noticed before. He was actually quite attractive, in a ruggedly handsome sort of way. Not her type, of course. But then, she didn’t have a type. She was finished with all that nonsense.
“I’m thinking about it, yes.”
He seemed amused. “For what?”
“Well, as you know, I’m in the jewelry business. I was thinking of opening a little summer outpost here, a sort of . . . Pavlin & Co by the sea.” The idea came to her shortly after her CFO’s latest alarming email. Did she have any actual interest in opening a shop in that town? Of course not. But she was certain that as soon as her sister got wind of the news, she’d change her mind about continuing to delay the auction contract.
“Well, that’s a fine idea,” he said. “Tourists seem to love buying jewelry while they’re here. Not sure why. It seems people splurge for things on vacation they wouldn’t spend a dime on at home.” He smiled at her. “Can I give you a tour?”
She didn’t need a tour. She could see the entire space from her vantage point in the doorway. But for some reason, she didn’t mind the excuse to spend a few more minutes with her housemate.
She smiled back. “That would be delightful.”
Race Point Beach at sunset was one of Provincetown’s great gifts. One of life’s great gifts, really. Celeste followed the narrow path shrouded in tall seagrass, Jack a few paces ahead carrying their folding chairs. When they cleared the dunes, the wide expanse of deep blue sea seemed to stretch into infinity.
The afternoon revelers had decamped to the bars and restaurants, leaving a mellow crowd of mostly couples patiently waiting for the famed sunset.
They settled into the chairs and Jack passed her the mini thermos filled with chilled rosé they picked up from Perry’s on the way. She took a sip and dug her toes into the sand.
“So you’ve officially given up the entire third floor to Gemma,” Jack said, smiling at her.
“Not the entire third floor. There’s still the other spare bedroom.”
“I’m just teasing you.”
“You’re the one who wanted me to be more in touch with my family. So . . . be careful what you wish for,” she said.
“There’s only one thing I’ve been wishing for, and you’ve given it to me,” he said, reaching for her left hand, the diamond winking in the sun. Celeste smiled, her stomach tightening. “We need to start making some plans, though. Have you given any thought to who should officiate? And where you want to have the ceremony?”
“I haven’t,” she said, feeling like the world’s most delinquent bride-to-be.
“Maybe Clifford Henry could officiate? He did a great job at Tom and Aaron’s wedding last summer.”
She nodded. “I’ll talk to him.”
“And we need to figure out the guest list. You really should invite your sister, you know.”
“Oh, Jack. Don’t start with that. I doubt she’ll even be out here in August. I’m going to sign the paperwork she wants. Hopefully, that will set a good example for Gemma and she’ll do the same. I just want Elodie to tell her where the ring is . . . for closure. And then we can all move on.” Herself especially. The past few days she’d allowed herself the small hope that maybe the ring was somehow gone, and that’s why Elodie was being evasive. If it was out of the family, she was in the clear. She would be free of the curse.
“Celeste, that competition was a lifetime ago. I think everyone has moved on. You’re holding on to the past.”
It was low tide and the receding water left a band of stones and shells. An older man with linen pants rolled up to his knees picked through them, collecting some into a reusable shopping bag.
She turned to Jack. “The past just showed up on our doorstep. I’m doing the best I can.”
It was hard for her not to think of the time when Paulina had been the one to show up on her doorstep.
Celeste had just moved to Provincetown a few weeks earlier, and she and Nathan were just settling into their rooms at the Barroses. They had a routine meeting every morning for coffee in the kitchen, served by Mrs. Barros, along with homemade Portuguese rolls. Then they went off to work, Celeste at an antiques shop, Nathan at his writing space. At the end of the day, they met up again for drinks before heading home together.
One night, they reached the house sometime close to nine and spotted a couple on the second-story deck. It was just about dark out, only a faint stripe of fading pink in the sky, endless stars, and a bright three-quarter moon. Celeste remembered the way light seemed to play tricks with them at that hour; the couple on the porch seemed to radiate their own glow. They didn’t see Celeste and Nathan approach, they were so wrapped around each other, kissing in a way that felt obscene to have stumbled upon.
That’s when Celeste recognized the unmistakable long blond hair.
“Paulina?”
Her sister scrambled to her feet, the man standing up beside her. They held hands. The man looked familiar, but it took her a few seconds to place him: Elodie’s boyfriend.
“Hey. Sorry to just show up like this. I left you a message on your machine.”
Sensing the tension, Nathan continued inside, leaving the three of them alone.
Standing in the moonlight, urging Paulina to keep her voice down so they didn’t disturb the Barroses, Celeste listened calmly while the story came pouring out: They were in love, neither of them planned this, they tried to stop it but they were soul mates.
They both kept saying the same thing: “It just happened.”
Now they needed to tell Elodie. And they wanted her help.
“I’m not okay with this,” Celeste said, looking up at the stars and wondering what to do. As the eldest, she’d always felt removed from the scrum of competition between her younger sisters. Although, if she was being honest, it was really a one-way competition: Elodie had always been jealous of Paulina and never the reverse. It was their mother’s fault; Constance fawned over the baby, never failing to mention her beauty while always chiding Elodie for being bookish and dowdy.
Her first instinct was to tell Paulina to back off—to throw this particular fish back into the sea when there were so many others readily available to her. But confronted with the pair, their hands entwined, the palpable energy sparking between them, she knew it was a lost cause.
“I don’t want to hurt Elodie,” Paulina said. “That’s why we waited so long. We both hoped this would pass, that we’d get it out of our system.”
“I knew it wouldn’t pass,” Liam said, gazing at her adoringly.
Celeste shifted uncomfortably. “Look, things happen. Fine. But why are you dragging me into this?”
She already knew the answer. Elodie adored Celeste. She looked up to her more than she respected her own mother. Celeste was the one who turned her on to Virginia Woolf and Charlotte Perkins Gilman. Who introduced her to great works of art and the importance of history. Celeste and Elodie were the only two in the family who had true intellectual curiosity, and that had always been Elodie’s escape from the demands of life in the Pavlin orbit.
“I thought if you told her, if you somehow suggested that we can all get through this . . .” Paulina said.
“I’m sorry,” Celeste said. “I can’t condone this. And I don’t want to be a part of it. I love you, but you’re on your own with this one, kiddo.”
She let Paulina and Liam crash in her room for the night under the condition that they go back to New York the following day and talk to Elodie. “No matter how difficult the truth is, a lie is always worse.”
The decision the following morning to visit the beach had been a last-minute one. After a sleepless night of thinking about this disastrous turn of events, obsessing about it from every angle, Celeste felt more compassion for Paulina. Her youngest sister wasn’t malicious, but she was spoiled and naïve. There was no scenario in which this was going to go well.
She didn’t want Paulina to leave on a bad note and suggested a quick walk on Race Point Beach as long as they discussed anything but Elodie. The walk had been innocent. But it came back to bite all three of them. Badly.
Celeste, consumed with the memory, zoned out and missed the sunset. The beach erupted in applause as it always did for nature’s light show. Jack leaned over and kissed her.
“Another day in paradise,” he said.
Yes. It was their paradise. And she intended to keep it that way.