Every bit of dislike I’ve ever had for her—her lack of generosity, her sanctimony, the way she implied to everyone in the woods, back then, that Jonas would never, ever have been out sailing with me and Conrad that day if I hadn’t pressured him into it—comes roiling to the surface. “She had him wrapped around her little finger,” my mother once overheard her saying. I force myself to think about Peter, my lovely, gallant Englishman. His easy intelligence, his beat-perfect irony, the way he cooks a pork roast with salt-crunchy crackling, his worn leather brogues, the way he tugs on my hair when we make love. I manage a clear smile. “That’s great news. You must be so happy for Jonas.”
“Yes,” she says. “And for Gina, of course.”
I see him then, walking in our direction through the throng. He’s carrying a brown-paper grocery bag under one arm. A jumbo pack of hot dog buns teeters out of the top. I watch as he scans the crowd. He finds Gina, her back to him, smiles. Then he sees me. He stops where he stands. We stare at each other across the sand. He shakes his head, more in anger than in sorrow—some combination of pain and disgust, as if he cannot believe what I have done, cannot fathom that I broke the promise I made two years ago as we sat on that broken-down pier, drinking beers, looking out over the Hudson, accepting our fate.
Jonas’s mother sees him now, his eyes locked on me. She taps Gina on the shoulder. “Jonas is back.”
Gina’s face lights up as if she has never seen anything so wondrous.
He comes over to her, bypassing me, gives her a long, deep kiss. “I was looking for you,” he says.
“Anna.” He hugs her hello, hands his mother the buns. “They only had a jumbo pack.”
“They’ll all get eaten. No one ever brings enough buns to these things.” She heads over to the food table, hands them to a man cooking linguica and burgers. “Buns!” I hear her announce, as if she has just delivered the Holy Grail.
“Hi.” Jonas turns to acknowledge me last. His tone is friendly, no trace of what I saw on his face. He smiles at me, composed, benign.
“Hi,” I say, giving him a what-the-fuck look.
He puts his arm around Gina’s waist. “Gina, this is Eleanor. Elle and I knew each other when we were kids.”
“We’ve met,” I say.
“My mother said none of your gang were up this week.”
“I know your mother hates it when people disagree with her,” I say, my voice bitchier than I’d intended. “But we’re here. I’ve been here.”
“Gina and I drove up last weekend. I gather from my mother that you’re planning a winter wedding. She ran into Wallace at the A&P.” His voice is cold.
“I tried to reach you.”
Gina looks back and forth between us, as if sensing that she is suddenly on the outside looking in. “Jonas is taking me squid fishing later,” she says.
“Cool,” Anna says.
Gina looks dubious. “Fishing for squirming things off a pier at midnight?”
Anna laughs. “It’s very satisfying. You shine a flashlight into the water, and they swarm. You barely have to move the jig. Like shooting fish in a barrel.”
“Jonas and I used to go all the time.” I smile at him, trying to break through. “You were obsessed.”
He doesn’t give an inch, just stands there looking through me.
“If you love it, I’ll love it.” Gina pulls him into her and kisses him like she owns him.
“Just don’t get inked,” I say.
“And marinate them in milk overnight before you grill them,” Anna says.
“I don’t eat seafood,” Gina says.
Anna looks at me and Jonas. She hooks her arm through Gina’s. “I’m going to go grab a beer. Come. I’ll introduce you to the only two interesting people here.” She pulls her along before Gina can think of a reason to say no.
* * *
—
The summer after I graduated from high school, Anna and I decided to go for a midtide swim at Higgins. The sea was perfect that day. No mung. No churn. We floated in the ocean, cradled by the rise and fall of the swells, as Anna droned on and on about how totally in love she was with her Dyadic Communication professor.
“I have literally no idea what that means,” I said.
“It means I want to fuck my professor.”
“Dyadic.” I laughed, diving under the water. I came up where I could stand.
“So, what about you, Miss ‘I’m going to wait until marriage’？” Anna called over to me. “Still a virgin?”