Winter Solstice Read online

  “I think we’ve met before?” she says. “I’m Mandy Pell, Grayson’s decorator.” She winks. “And his plus one.”

  “Jennifer Quinn,” Jennifer says. She tries to keep any gloating out of her smile. Mandy Pell got Grayson Coker’s penthouse job and Grayson Coker’s affection—for the time being—but Jennifer got the show! “If you two will excuse me, I have to go find my husband.”

  Jennifer finds Patrick standing with Leanne and Derek and Norah Vale in front of a buffet table that Jennifer hasn’t seen yet. It’s a taco bar. There is grilled fish, roasted pork, sliced sirloin, pulled chicken, and two kinds of shells. For toppings, there are tomatoes, lettuce, onions, cilantro, shredded cheeses, chunky guacamole, mango salsa, blistered peppers, and sour cream. Jennifer is suddenly ravenous, but she greets Leanne, Derek, and Norah, saying, “You’ve all met, then?”

  “Yes,” Leanne says. “Norah was just telling us that she used to be your…”

  Dealer, Jennifer thinks.

  “… sister-in-law,” Leanne says. “I think it’s simply wonderful that you all are still friendly.”

  “I’ve known Paddy since high school,” Norah says. “I was the lowly, troubled sophomore, and he was the big, studly senior.”

  “That was me, all right,” Patrick says, and he raises his glass in a mock toast to himself, and everyone laughs.

  It is wonderful, Jennifer thinks. She remembers when she met Norah Vale. It was summer, and Patrick had invited Jennifer home to Nantucket for the first time. Jennifer wore a Lilly Pulitzer sundress printed with yellow lions because she so badly wanted to fit in and impress. Norah, she remembers, showed up late for dinner at the inn wearing cutoff shorts and an Aerosmith T-shirt. When Jennifer noticed the python crawling up out of the shirt onto Norah’s neck, she nearly screamed.

  Norah smirked. “Looks real, doesn’t it, princess?” she said.

  For years they played those roles—Jennifer the good girl and Norah the bad—until… well, until Kevin and Norah divorced and Norah left… until Norah came back… until Jennifer was bad and Norah was enabling her to be bad. Their trajectory has been so bizarre. Someone could write a novel about it, but it wouldn’t be believable.

  And yet here they are.

  Patrick says, “As part of her business degree, Norah is doing an internship with SinTV in Fishers, Indiana.”

  “Fishers, Indiana?” Jennifer says. Isabelle will be happy to hear that! Isabelle will be thrilled—Norah is leaving Nantucket and moving to the Midwest! Then Jennifer gasps. “Wait! Are you going to be working on—”

  “Swing Set!” Leanne chimes in. She grabs Jennifer’s arm. “Can you stand it? I’m so jealous!”

  EDDIE

  The Christys return to Nantucket over Christmas Stroll weekend, which is both good news and bad news. The good news is Nantucket engraves itself onto the Christys’ hearts. Eddie sees it happen as soon as they step off the ferry. They’re smitten. No, they’re beyond smitten. They’re in love. They want this island to be their home.

  All Eddie has to do is sell them a house.

  “I love the wreath hanging on the lighthouse,” Masha says. “Who thought of that?”

  “The Coast Guard hangs it,” Eddie says. It has become one of the iconic images of Christmastime on Nantucket—that and the little lit-up tree that sits in the red dory in the Easy Street boat basin. Nantucket doesn’t disappoint on Christmas. It combines the charm of a New England town with the ruggedness of a seaside village with the tasteful decorating that comes with money and tradition. The town glitters with white lights, evergreens, and velvet ribbon. There are Victorian carolers singing on Main Street. Eddie doesn’t know a single woman who can resist Victorian carolers, and certainly not one as impressionable as Masha Christy. She stands in a daze while the carolers perform “Once in Royal David’s City” in three-part harmony, then she claps like crazy.

  She turns to Eddie. “I didn’t even recognize that song and I loved it,” she says. “My favorite carol is ‘The Little Drummer Boy.’”

  “I like that one too,” Eddie admits.

  “Can we go see the inn?” Masha says. “Please?”

  The bad news about the Christys coming over during Christmas Stroll is that the Winter Street Inn will show much better than the house on Medouie Creek Road. Start with the name: the Winter Street Inn. Then take into account that the inn is in town, a stone’s throw from the Christmas magic, while Medouie Creek Road is way, way out in the boonies. Eddie will have to mention that in the chaotic summer months the Medouie Creek Road house remains serene, quiet, and breezy. There is no traffic, there are no crowds, no tourists in the street, no heat emanating off the cobblestones.

  But to be fair to Masha, Eddie has arranged for them to see the inn at eleven o’clock. It’s just past ten thirty now. “Let’s go,” Eddie says. “We can walk.”

  They start strolling up Main Street, past all the twinkling shopwindows. There are children and dogs and men in quilted hunting jackets, women in fur vests and woolen hats with faux-mink pom-poms, like the one Grace wears. Eddie stops at the corner of Main and Centre and takes a deep breath. The air smells like evergreen and peppermint.

  Across the street Eddie sees a familiar figure in jeans, an Irish fisherman’s sweater, and a Santa hat. It’s Benton Coe. He’s by himself, holding a red Solo cup.

  Good grief, Eddie thinks. This is the last thing he needs. He turns to check that the Christys are still behind him—Masha looked ready to be swallowed whole by every shop and gallery they passed on the way up the street—and his eyes dart left and right as he wonders which direction will be more effective in dodging what’s right in front of them.

  “Hey, Eddie!”

  Reluctantly, Eddie seeks out the source of his name. Benton is headed right for him, Solo cup hoisted. From the flush of his cheeks and the way his Santa hat is drooping over one eye, Eddie guesses Benton has been to a party somewhere on upper Main and has enjoyed more than one cup of cheer. Eddie thinks of Grace—but she and Allegra are at Academy Hill, decorating.

  “Hello, Benton,” Eddie says. He has no choice but to shake Benton’s hand and introduce him to the Christys.

  “Benton Coe, I’d like you to meet my clients, Masha and Raja Christy. Masha, Raja, this is Benton Coe. He’s my wife’s…” Well, here Eddie is tempted to say former lover, but he holds his tongue. “New employer.”

  “Yes!” Benton says, grinning. “We’re happy to have Grace on board. She’s going to be a huge asset to our company.”

  Masha bats her eyes at Benton. “What kind of company do you have?” she asks.

  Eddie grits his teeth. Does Benton Coe have a mesmerizing effect on every woman he meets?

  “I’m a landscape architect,” Benton says. “I design outdoor living spaces—gardens, of course, but also pools, walks, decks, patios, water features.”

  Masha nods in awe, like he’s just told her he designed the space station, but then Eddie gets an idea.

  “As a matter of fact, Masha, Benton designed the outdoor space at the house on Medouie Creek Road.”

  “You did?” Masha says.

  “Yes, I did,” Benton says, growing even more animated than he already was. “Are you thinking of buying that house? I love that house. I think that outdoor space is one of my favorites on the entire island. Maybe even my favorite.”

  Thank you, Benton Coe, Eddie thinks.

  “Except for Eddie and Grace’s old house. That was… well, that’s my number one favorite, but my second-favorite is Medouie Creek Road.”

  “Really?” Masha says.

  “The Medouie Creek Road house doesn’t have a garden shed, though,” Benton says. “Tell you what, if you end up buying that house, call me and I’ll build you a garden shed just like the one Eddie and Grace used to have.”

  “You would do that?” Masha says. She’s acting like a twelve-year-old meeting Justin Bieber. Eddie would actually be ecstatic about this—score one for Raja and the Medouie Creek Road house!�
��if he didn’t have the horrifying memory of catching Grace and Benton locked inside the very garden shed of which he’s speaking!

  If the Christys do buy the house, Eddie will tell Raja: Absolutely no shed! In fact, hire a different landscaper altogether.

  “Well, good to see you, Benton,” Eddie says. “We have to be on our way.”

  “Great to meet you,” Benton says, hoisting his cup. “Good luck in the hunt!”

  They part ways, and Eddie leads the Christys across Centre and up Liberty.

  “Wow,” Masha says. “He was handsome.”

  “Masha,” Raja says.

  Masha swats Eddie’s arm. “He thinks I’m bad,” she says. “You should have heard him carrying on about that lady Rachel from the last time we were here.”

  “She made cookies,” Raja says.

  Oh dear, thinks Eddie.

  As they cross the threshold from the street to the front walk of the inn, Eddie’s phone pings. Quickly he checks it. There’s a text from Glenn that says: Full-price offer just came in on the WSI.

  From who? Eddie asks. Then he thinks, Whom?

  Some guy just called the office offering full market, Glenn says. I guess he used to stay there.

  “Is something wrong?” Masha asks.

  “Not… not, no,” Eddie says. “Not exactly. I just received word that the inn already has a full-price offer. It just came in.”

  Raja smiles.

  “But we can still look at it, right?” Masha says. “And if we like it, we can go higher than full price.”

  Eddie ushers Masha forward. It sounds sketchy, doesn’t it? Some “guy” calling in and offering the full price because he used to stay there? Could be a crank, although Glenn is the best in the business at sniffing people out.

  He has asked Mitzi not to be present in the house while he’s showing it—and yet before Eddie can reach for the knob, she is swinging the front door open, exclaiming, “Welcome!”

  “Mitzi Quinn!” Eddie says. “I didn’t expect to find you at home.” His voice holds a touch of reprimand, but obviously not enough because Mitzi seems unfazed.

  “Come in, come in,” Mitzi says. “I’m the owner, Mitzi Quinn.” She reaches out to hug—HUG!—Masha Christy, a woman she has never met. Masha, being Masha, thinks she has found her soul mate. Their embrace is one of long-lost friends reunited after a war.

  “I’m Masha,” she says. “And this is my husband, Raja. Thank you for inviting us into your beautiful home.”

  They all step into the great room, which, Eddie has to admit, presents well. Mitzi has decorated it with what must be a hundred strings of white lights. There are lights on the gigantic tree, there are lights amid the greens on the mantel, and there is an enormous lit evergreen wreath above the fireplace. The room twinkles.

  “This looks even more festive than usual,” Eddie says.

  “I went whole hog with the lights for Kelley,” Mitzi says. She smiles sadly at Masha. “My husband has terminal brain cancer and he’s blind in one eye.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” Masha says.

  “He used to really love my caroling village,” Mitzi says. She leads the Christys over to a table all set up with a Byers’ Choice Christmas market scene. “The kids used to tease me about my carolers, and Kelley, too, but one night I caught him out here, rearranging them.” She laughs, then quickly grows somber. “That’s why we’re selling.”

  Eddie tries not to frown. This is why he wanted Mitzi gone! No potential buyer wants to hear about terminal brain cancer! They want to imagine a house filled with happy times. They want a place that will make them feel they will live forever.

  “Shall we look at the kitchen?” Eddie says.

  “Well, I loved it,” Masha says once they have toured the entire house save for the master suite. “No surprise there. But…”

  But, Eddie thinks. To keep it running as an inn, she’ll have to hire a staff: a marketing expert, a reservationist, a general manager, a housekeeping manager, and at least one chambermaid, a breakfast cook, and a maintenance man. The mere idea is not only expensive, it’s exhausting.

  “But… I think I’d like to look at the other house again,” Masha says. “The one on Whatever Creek Road. I’m intrigued by the outdoor space. And I definitely want a garden shed, like that guy said. What was his name?”

  “Benton,” Eddie says. “Benton Coe.”

  Eddie forgot that the week following Christmas Stroll is the busiest week in real estate. Everyone who has come to enjoy the holiday charm and whimsy of the island now wants to own a piece of it.

  It’s Thursday when Raja calls. Eddie hopes that the reason it has taken him so long is because he has been in heated debates with Masha and has emerged victorious.

  “Raja,” Eddie says. “What’s the good word?”

  “I’ve given it a lot of thought,” Raja says. “And I keep coming back to the piece of advice my father gave me when I got married.”

  “Oh, really?” Eddie says. “What was that?”

  “He said, ‘Happy wife, happy life.’ It sounds elementary, I know, but I happen to believe those words are true.”

  Happy wife, happy life. Eddie has never cottoned to that phrase; he’s always cast it aside into a basket of platitudes that includes Money can’t buy happiness. Of course money can buy happiness; denying that makes you sound like an idealistic simpleton. And yet who has subscribed to the adage of Happy wife, happy life more than Eddie? He has given Grace his enthusiastic blessing to work for her former lover, just so she will be fulfilled.

  “I agree with you, Raja,” Eddie says. “A hundred percent.”

  “So I’d like to surprise Masha and buy her the inn for Christmas,” Raja says. “It’s what she really wants.”

  Eddie sighs. He hoped things wouldn’t go this way, but he can’t begrudge Raja for wanting to make his wife happy at Christmastime.

  “I laud you for your selfless decision,” Eddie says. “And I’m going to make this happen—if I can. We do already have a full-price offer on the inn, I think. I’ll need to check with my colleague to see if that offer is real or just a paper tiger. Even if it is real, we may be able to go above asking. Now, this may result in a bidding war. How high are you willing to go?”

  “Twenty million,” Raja says. His voice contains the bravado of a man who has just pushed all of his poker chips into the center of the table.

  “The inn is listed at six-five,” Eddie says. “I would recommend we go in with an offer of seven million and cap it off at seven-five. The inn just isn’t worth more than that under any circumstances.”

  “I’ll pay what it takes,” Raja says.

  “Let me look into it and I’ll get back to you in a little while,” Eddie says. “Talk soon.”

  He approaches Glenn’s desk and admires a new picture of Glenn and Barbie in the heart-shaped frame there. They’re arm in arm at the Schramsberg Vineyard in Napa. Behind them is a fountain featuring a dancing frog. Eddie holds all sorts of opinions about Glenn Daley, but he has to give the guy this: he loves Barbie and treats her like a queen.

  “Where are we with the supposed buyer you have for the inn?” Eddie asks. “Is he for real?”

  “He’s for real,” Glenn says. “Wait until you hear this story…”

  Before Glenn can tell Eddie the story, Eddie sees Allegra waving at him from her desk up front.

  “Eddie,” Allegra says. “Mrs. Christy is on the phone for you. Line two.”

  “Mrs. Christy?” Eddie says. “Or Mr. Christy?” Is it too much to hope that Raja has had an immediate change of heart?

  “Missus,” Allegra says.

  Missus, Eddie thinks. Probably, Raja couldn’t keep the secret for more than two minutes and he told Masha what he’d done, and now Masha is calling Eddie to make sure Eddie wrangles the inn away from the other buyers.

  “Hold that thought, Glenn,” Eddie says. “I need to sort out this mess. Why didn’t I go into marriage counseling like Dr. Phil?”


  “I ask myself that every day,” Glenn says.

  Eddie goes back to his desk and picks up line two. “Good morning, Masha,” he says. “How are you?”

  “Are you ready for me to make your day?” Masha asks.

  Eddie closes his eyes. The only thing Masha is going to make is trouble. He can feel it. “Sure,” he says.

  “I’ve given it a lot of thought, and I’ve decided that I want to surprise Raja for Christmas and put an offer on that Whatever Creek Road house.”

  Eddie’s eyes fly open and he lurches forward in his seat. “Wait a minute. What?”

  “The one out in Wauwinet. The house with the pool and the home theater. I want to buy it for Raja. Full-price offer, unless you think we can get it for less.”

  “I think you can get it for less,” Eddie says. Masha can probably offer twelve-five and close at twelve-eight or -nine. “Let me look at the numbers and I’ll call you back in a little while, okay?”

  “Okay,” Masha says. “But don’t tell Raja. I want him to be surprised.”

  “You have my word,” Eddie says.

  He hangs up and goes back over to Glenn’s desk. “You’re not going to believe this.”

  “Try me,” Glenn says.

  Barbie stands up from her desk and joins them. “I’m bored. Tell me, too.”

  Barbie is “bored,” and yet Eddie knows that she put a five-million-dollar lot in Shimmo under agreement this morning. That’s his sister for you.

  “So, since the first week of November, my Powerball couple, the Christys, have been in a deadlock about what to buy. Mr. Christy wanted the house on Medouie Creek Road, and Mrs. Christy wanted the Winter Street Inn. But then, just ten minutes ago, Mr. Christy calls saying he wants to put in an offer on the Winter Street Inn to surprise his wife for Christmas.”

  “Aw!” Barbie says.

  “But I have a buyer… ,” Glenn says.

  Eddie holds up a finger. “Then, just now, I get a call from Mrs. Christy. She wants to put an offer on the Medouie Creek Road house as a Christmas surprise for her husband.” Eddie grins. “You know what this is, right?”