Authors: Judy Blume
“I always thought she’d make something of her life,” Daniel says. “Something important.”
A bell clangs announcing dinner, and Gus shakes Vix. “Okay, Cough Drop … time to get up.” He helps her to her feet. “How’re you feeling? You going to survive?”
She’s wobbly but she makes it down to the water, where she pulls off the stupid T-shirt, wets it, then holds it to her face and neck. “Now that’s more like it,” Gus says, eyeing her dress, still a big kid with hormones.
“And just for the record,” she tells him, “I was the one with the yellow bathing suit.”
She’s sandwiched between Daniel and Gus at dinner. When Gus catches Phoebe’s boyfriend giving Vix a
sleepy-eyed once-over, he turns to Daniel. “Cough Drop attracts guys like a magnet.”
Caitlin was the magnet. She was just a particle in her magnetic field
.
After dinner they’re asked to gather on the beach for a display of fireworks honoring the bride and groom. Daniel covers her shoulders with his linen jacket. She leans back against Gus, who, she thinks, sniffs her hair as the sky lights up, taking her back to other fireworks on other beaches.
You’re not scared of me, are you? No, I’m scared of these feelings
.
When the party breaks up, Caitlin offers to drive her back to the B&B. “Aren’t you going home with Bru?” Vix asks.
“Not tonight. It’s bad luck for the bride and groom to spend the night before the wedding together.”
Vix never heard that one but she gets into Caitlin’s white Jeep. The top is down and as they head out of town the wind whips their hair. “This isn’t too hard for you, is it?” Caitlin asks. “I mean, seeing us together?”
Vix is grateful for the darkness and the champagne.
“It was over between the two of you so long ago …”
Vix would like to be generous, to reassure Caitlin, but she can’t find the right words, so she says nothing.
“I hate it when you clam up that way!” Caitlin shouts. The Jeep swerves. Vix shuts her eyes and hangs on, sure Caitlin is going to kill them. But no, she just makes a sudden decision to pull into the Tashmoo Overlook where she cuts the engine and rests her head on the
wheel. “Oh, God …” she cries. “I don’t even know if I want to marry him.”
Vix stiffens.
“That shocks you, I suppose?” Caitlin says. “You’ve never done a single thing you’ve regretted, have you?”
At that moment Vix feels such a rush of … what? She’s not sure. She’s not sure if she hates Caitlin or herself, or maybe Bru, for creating this situation in the first place.
“Oh, hell …” Caitlin wipes her nose with the back of her hand. “It’ll be a good party, anyway.” She turns the key in the ignition and revs up the engine, then drives to the B&B where she drops off Vix. “Sleep tight …” she calls, blowing Vix a kiss.
“You, too.”
43
S
HE KNOWS
she won’t be able to sleep. She tries to read but she can’t concentrate so she grabs her sweater and the flashlight and heads back outside. The wind is picking up. She shines her flashlight along the wooded road leading down to the beach. She doesn’t see the figure stepping out of the shadows until he grabs her. She’s paralyzed by fear. She can’t scream, can’t run.
So this is how it’s all going to end. Talk about screwing up the wedding party!
He spins her around … but wait … it’s not a madman, at least not the kind she had in mind. It’s Bru. “We have to talk,” he says. She shakes him off and walks faster. He strides alongside her. “I don’t know how any of this happened. I don’t know what I’m doing with her. What we’re doing together.”
She stops and aims the flashlight at his face. “You two should have a really happy marriage!”
“Look, Victoria, it’s a mistake … I admit it … okay?”
“Spare me,” Vix says, holding up her other hand. He reaches for it and pulls her to him, making her gulp for air. She’s seventeen again, swimming for her life …
but this time she’s being sucked under … this time she’s drowning. She drops the flashlight to the ground.
He begins to kiss her. Soft little kisses at the sides of her lips, then hungry deep kisses. He takes her hand and leads her quickly, quickly down the road to his truck and without a word they head up island to his cabin.
She awakens to the sound of the foghorn just before dawn, her heart pounding, her head throbbing. She grabs what she can find of her clothes from the pile on the floor, tiptoes barefoot to the door, and quietly, so as not to wake him, lets herself out. She steps into her shoes, drops her dress over her head, then she’s running … running through clumps of beach plum and bayberry that scratch her legs … running … running, until she comes to the main road, where she hitches a ride with the first car to come along, two women on their way to the early morning ferry.
Maybe she should keep going, just get on the ferry, get off this island. But they’d worry about her. Abby would say,
Look, her bed wasn’t slept in. Something terrible has happened … I know it
. They’d call the police who would find her underwear in Bru’s truck or his bed or wherever she left it and accuse him of something even worse than the truth. The wedding would be postponed.
“Is this close enough?” the driver asks at the sign pointing to the B&B.
“Yes, thanks.” As Vix is walking the mile back she runs into Philippe
—shit
—who’s out for an early morning jog. Does he notice she’s still in last night’s clothes?
“Ah, Veek-toria … enjoying an early morning walk?”
“Yes,” she tells him, picking up her pace. “I always walk before breakfast.”
He eyes her up and down and she knows that he knows she didn’t sleep in her room. But he doesn’t have a clue about where she spent the night or with whom.
44
B
Y TEN THE SUN
has burned through and as Vix dozes in the worn wicker rocker on the porch of Lamb’s house she breathes deeply, catching the scent of the stargazer lilies from Abby’s garden. She pictures herself walking down the aisle an hour from now, wearing the straw hat that’s resting on her lap, the gauzy ivory dress skimming her ankles. She’ll be carrying sunflowers. She’s been instructed to smile. After all, she’s Caitlin’s Maid of Honor. Or is it Made of Honor? She winces at her own bad joke. She can’t help wishing the same fairy godmother who let her be Caitlin’s friend in the first place would swoop down and rescue her now, carrying her away from this island, this island of memories—all the best and worst of her life.
She hears Caitlin calling to her from far away. “Vix … get your ass up here! A Maid of Honor’s got responsibilities, you know.” Caitlin laughs and an echo of laughter follows.
Phoebe shakes her gently. “Vix …” When she opens her eyes Phoebe asks, “Hard night?”
Vix fans her face with the straw hat. Philippe has probably told Phoebe that he saw her early this morning,
that she’d pulled an all-nighter. She prays none of them will ever know the truth.
Abby has finally redone Caitlin’s room. The walls have been whitewashed, the old twin beds have been replaced with an antique iron bedstead piled high with lace-trimmed pillows. Books line the shelves where broken toys once sat. Their beach stone collection, sorted by color—lavender, tortoise, gray—is stored in glass canisters. A blowup of a black-and-white photo hangs on the wall, taken that first summer when she and Caitlin were twelve, arms around one another, looking into each other’s eyes, as if they’re sharing a delicious secret.
Caitlin waltzes across the room holding out the ivory satin skirt of her wedding dress. She’s exquisite, as radiant as if she just stepped off the cover of
Bride’s
magazine. “It’s my grandmother’s gown,” she tells Vix. “I took you to see her grave once … remember?”
“I remember.”
“Dorset sent it to me. It fit perfectly. Didn’t even need alteration. I wonder if Grandmother Somers will notice? Probably not. She doesn’t see that well. She’s ninety-something.” She stops in front of the mirror. Her face is flushed. “I can’t imagine living that long, can you?”
Vix can’t imagine anything beyond today and she’s having trouble with that. She lifts the veil from its nest of tissue paper but before she can set it on Caitlin’s head, Caitlin catches her by the arm. “Wait …” She turns away from the mirror to face Vix. “About last night …” she begins.
Oh God … she knows … he’s told her! Maybe she should confess now, get it out of the way, beg her forgiveness …
“What I said in the Jeep?” Caitlin continues, as if she’s asking a question. “When I told you I wasn’t sure about marrying Bru?”
Vix feels dizzy.
“I never finished what I was trying to say, what I needed to say …”
“You don’t have to explain,” Vix tells her, hoping she won’t. “Everyone gets last-minute jitters.”
“No, it’s not about last-minute jitters,” Caitlin says. “It’s about Bru and me …”
Vix holds her breath. She’s never regretted anything the way she regrets last night. If only she could take it back.
“I always wanted what you had,” Caitlin says.
“You’re the one who had everything.”
“That’s not the way I saw it. You were the daughter Abby always wanted. You were worthy of the Somers Foundation scholarships. You even had breasts. So I had to prove I was sexier. I had to prove I could have any guy I wanted … even Bru.”
“Well, now you’ve got him.”
“I don’t mean now, although there’s something quaint about marrying your first lover.”
Vix is thoroughly confused. “Aren’t you forgetting the ski instructor … in Italy … junior year?”
Caitlin shakes her head. “I invented him for you.”
“You invented the ski instructor?”
“So you’d think I was first.”
Vix is having trouble digesting this. “You mean you lied?”
“Couldn’t we just say I was imaginative?”
“Imaginative?”
“Okay … so I lied.”
“What about Von? Did you make him up, too?”
And what about the other hundred or so she’s heard about over the years?
“Oh, Von … we never actually, you know, consummated our affair. He wouldn’t wear a condom. You can see where that got him. Anyway, he liked all the other stuff better.”
They stand there looking at one another until Caitlin says, “You mean you never knew … you never guessed?”
Vix feels as if she can’t breathe. She grasps the bed rail.
Caitlin’s voice goes whispery. “After Nathan … after the funeral, when I came back to the Vineyard …”
Vix turns away.
No!
She refuses to believe this. She looks out the window as the flower girls line up by size, each one carrying a bunch of daisies.
“You asked me to explain to him,” Caitlin says. “You asked me to tell him why you couldn’t come back.” She comes up behind Vix and lays a hand on her arm. “It just happened. It didn’t mean anything. Really.”
Vix doesn’t move. Caitlin grabs hold of her, forces her to listen. “I admit I was jealous because he loved you so much … but even more, because
you
loved
him
. I
wanted to prove to you that he was just like all the others, following his pointer through life.”
“Bru was never like that.” She can’t believe she’s standing here defending him after last night. She’s going to tell Caitlin the truth. Right now. She’s going to even the score.
But Caitlin hasn’t finished. “Why do you think I stayed away?” she asks. “Haven’t you ever wondered about that?”
You think you know someone really well and then you find out …
“It never happened again,” Caitlin adds. “We never even saw each other again until a couple of months ago when I came back.”
Vix catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror and is shocked that her face shows nothing,
nothing
.
The photographer knocks. “One for the road,” she says, pushing open the bedroom door with her foot. She asks Vix to lean over Caitlin’s shoulder while they both look into the mirror. “That’s it …” she says, guiding them, “a little closer, so that your faces are almost touching. Yes!”
Vix places the headband with the attached veil on Caitlin’s head, centers it just so, fluffs it out so that bits of lace and seed pearls frame Caitlin’s lovely face. The photographer snaps that one, too.
Before they leave the house Caitlin leads Vix over to a table in the living room where Abby has displayed the wedding gifts. “Look at this,” she says, holding up a porcelain figurine of a girl in a tutu, standing atop a horse. The card reads:
Darling girl, if all else fails, join the circus!
Vix begins to laugh. Caitlin joins her. They hold on to one another, convulsed, until Phoebe separates them. “Time to get going,” she tells Caitlin, “if you’re sure you want to go through with this.”
At the church, Grandmother Somers asks loudly, “Which one is she marrying?” Dorset points to Bru. “Oh, he’s quite handsome, isn’t he? Who are his parents? What do they do?”
Sharkey escorts Phoebe down the aisle. She’s relaxed, smiling. Daniel escorts Abby, who looks tense, although she’s trying to hide it. The two women sit next to one another. Vix can’t look at Bru. She prays he won’t say anything … ever. How can
he
be sure Vix will keep their secret?
Caitlin sails down the aisle on Lamb’s arm. He looks so proud, so loving, tears come to Vix’s eyes. Caitlin smiles directly at her. She has a feeling that Caitlin is about to pull something but she doesn’t know what. She half expects her to shove her island-grown bouquet of cosmos, bellflowers, and daisies in Vix’s face and say,
You marry him. You two deserve each other!
Bru
H
E WAS CRAZY
last night. Out of his fucking mind. What was he doing? Trying to get out of it? But here comes Caitlin on Lamb’s arm, drifting down the aisle like some kind of angel. Smiling right at him. Shit! What’s he supposed to do?
He remembers the night she came to him with a message from Victoria, just after Nathan died. Beautiful Caitlin at seventeen, looking so sad, so sad … He’d taken her in his arms to stop her tears. Hadn’t meant to kiss her. But the way she’d looked at him, her lips parted and moist. Hadn’t meant to make love to her. And jeez … she’d been a virgin … had bled all over the place. A real surprise after all those stories Von told him. A mistake, he’d told her, after. Did she understand? Because it was never going to happen again. She understood. And she’d stayed away from the island, away from him … until now. It suddenly occurs to him he was not only Victoria’s first lover, but Caitlin’s. Maybe that’s his problem. He loves them both. He’s glad he doesn’t have to choose. Glad they’ve done it for him.