68
Gemma watched a silver catamaran bobbing on the bay. Below Lidia’s deck, seagulls battled over a discarded piece of bread. And on the chair next to her, Elodie rummaged through her handbag.
“It was inexcusable of me to talk about your father the way I did,” she said. “Clearly, I haven’t made my peace with the past, and it’s impacted my judgment. And my treatment of you, I’m afraid.”
Gemma looked at her. “I appreciate that, but I don’t want to talk about it,” she said. The more Elodie spoke of her father, the more three-dimensional their relationship seemed. It made the crack in her memory of her parents wider.
“I understand. But, as a token of my apology—and of good faith moving forward—I want to give you something. I tried to give this to Celeste but she didn’t want it. And I realize now it rightfully belongs with you.”
She passed her a pink diamond eternity band. The gems caught the sunlight and tossed it back to the sky. It was a perfect, pale rose hue, so sparkly it seemed lit from within. Her breath caught in her throat.
“It’s the only thing I have left of the Electric Rose. I’m sorry I don’t have your mother’s complete stone. But I hope this is some small consolation.”
Hands trembling, Gemma slipped it on her left ring finger. She was instantly transported to her childhood self, feeling her mother’s one-of-a-kind diamond wobble on her small hand. Never wanting to take it off.
And she didn’t want to take it off now. But she had to.
“I do want to talk to you about this ring. But not for me—for Celeste.”
Elodie shook her head. “She doesn’t want it. My sister, she’s consumed with this idea of a curse and who knows what. I’d try to talk some sense into her but she’s too angry with me. And now she’s gone and done something stupid.”
“Jack,” Gemma said. Elodie nodded, and she could see Elodie was genuinely concerned. “I know. That’s why I’m here. We’re going to fix it.”
“How?” Elodie looked skeptical.
Gemma slipped off the ring, holding it tight. She literally had, in the palm of her hand, the one thing she had wanted for so long—or, at least, the closest she would get to it. She had two choices: She could keep it, a piece of her past forever close to her. Or she could let it go for someone else’s future.
It was low tide at Herring Cove. The beach was the most crowded it had been all summer even as it neared dinnertime, when the visitors usually thinned out except for the die-hards waiting for the sunset. Today, no one seemed in any hurry to leave. Dogs scampered into the waves, couples cuddled on blankets, beautiful young men drank up the last rays of sun to burnish their tans.
Celeste walked along the ocean edge, collecting beach stones, picking up all the green ones that were the least blemished and dropping them in a bucket. She tried to tell herself that no matter how sad she felt, how scared of what a future would look like without Jack, she could still enjoy Provincetown’s unparalleled natural beauty. The sky was beginning to streak shades of peach, gold, and purple. How many times a season did she and Jack turn to each other and say, “That was the most beautiful sunset of all time,” only to find themselves repeating the same words the next night. And the most magical thing was that no two sunsets ever looked the same. In a town filled with painters and writers and sculptors and photographers, nature was the most prolific and surprising artist of all.
Sunsets always brought her comfort. Growing up, spending summers out in the Hamptons, she’d shared countless memories of watching the light fade over the Atlantic Ocean with her parents and sisters. They sat out back on Adirondack chairs, her parents debating how best to tame the mosquitos while she and her sisters angled for a trip into town for ice cream. Celeste remembered the sting of her sunburns, the smell of the salt air, and a feeling of absolute security.
She hadn’t cared when her father cut her off from the money. The thing she missed was the connective tissue between the five of them that had once felt as tight as a muscle. Every argument between herself and her sisters, every manipulation by her parents, every incident that made it clear that Pavlin the company was more important than Pavlin the family, set her further adrift until she had come to prefer the separation. And now, because of that, she was destined to be alone.
Celeste squinted into the near distance. Something about the sunlight bouncing off the ocean played tricks with her eyes. Or maybe it was the rush of nostalgia about the halcyon days of her youth. Either way, she thought she saw Elodie walking in her direction.
But then, it was Elodie, or a version of Elodie that she hadn’t seen in thirty years. Elodie, her hair blowing in the breeze, barefoot. Elodie, noticing her, too, gingerly offered a wave. They hadn’t spoken since their argument over the ring.
“I stopped by the store a few times today but I kept missing you,” Elodie said.
A seagull circled them, pausing to peck at a cracked mussel shell still holding meat.
Celeste’s impulse was to hold on to her anger about the Electric Rose. But she couldn’t deny that she wanted—no, needed—to talk to her sister.
She felt tears welling in her eyes.
“Celeste. Are you okay?”
“No . . . I’m scared I’m losing Jack. I don’t know what to do. And I can’t talk to my best friend about it, because that’s him. I can’t talk to Lidia, either, because she’s his family, so of course she has to take Jack’s side.”
Celeste put down her bucket and looked out at the sea, taking a deep breath. She needed to keep it together. Provincetown was a small place and news of a public breakdown would spread through town faster than you could say “community Facebook page.”
“You can talk to me. I’m here. And Gemma, too.”
Wait, had Elodie and Gemma patched things up? Had hell just frozen over?
She wiped her eyes with the edge of her caftan and looked at her sister in confusion.
“We’ve both realized that our shared affection for you overrides our differences,” Elodie said.
“Well, that’s a lovely thing to say.” She looked at her, shielding her face from the sun as it sank lower, its splintering rays making it impossible to see even with her sunglasses.
“It’s not just words, Celeste. Gemma and I are going to help you with this Jack situation.”
Celeste didn’t know whether to be moved by the naïve sentiment, or irritated that her sister and niece thought her issue could be solved so easily.
“And Maud, too,” Elodie added.
Now, that got her attention.
“Okay,” she said. “I’m listening.”
“Tonight—the full moon—we all need to meet here at midnight.”
Wait—what? Celeste had been fully expecting Elodie to jump into a plan full of logistics and strategy, her usual tactical approach to any problem. But her all-business sister was finally speaking her language.
The relief was so overwhelming, all she could do was throw her arms around her. Elodie, caught off-guard, tumbled back into the sand, pulling Celeste with her. After a stunned few seconds, they both broke out laughing. Celeste picked up her bucket, putting back the stones that had fallen aside.
“Wanna collect stones?” Celeste said. “I call the green ones.”