No Wedding Like Nantucket (Sweet Island Inn Book 3) by Grace Palmer

Author:Grace Palmer [Palmer, Grace]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-05-06T18:30:00+00:00

17

Mae

Going to the beach with Dominic and Saoirse was the last thing that Mae wanted to do. And yet, here she was, headed for a sunset stroll with her boyfriend on one side and his ex-wife on the other.

How on earth had she ended up in this situation? Just a few short days ago, this had all the makings of a beautiful and memorable week. Now, not so much. Hurricanes and ex-wives had come storming ashore. Mae wasn’t sure which one she was less excited about.

“You are from here, yes?” Saoirse asked suddenly, turning to Mae. It had taken every ounce of Mae’s willpower to stay walking alongside her. She was stuck in the middle of this hideously awkward trio and hating every second of it.

“Yes,” Mae answered. “Well, actually, not quite. I’m from Tennessee originally.”

“So you are not from here, then.”

“Uh, I guess not. It sure feels like I am, though!” Mae tried to grit out a smile as best she could. This woman was really testing her patience.

But, in between bouts of irritation, she almost wanted to laugh at herself. She had a flashback to a conversation between herself and Sara when her daughter was in high school. Sara had gotten into a few spats with another girl in her class. It was over something silly that Mae couldn’t quite recall. A parking space in the school lot, perhaps, or maybe it was about which color dress one or the other of the girls was going to wear to prom. Something petty, but, with typical Sara gung-ho, she had promptly decided to hate everything about this girl, this new nemesis. She ranted and raved to her mother about the way the girl wore her hair, her laugh, the shoddy state of her backpack, her choice of shoes.

Mae remembered listening to Sara wear herself out with complaining, before gently pointing out that Sara wore her hair similarly, laughed just as loud when the mood struck, refused to zip her backpack in much the same way, and had just a week ago requested a pair of those exact same shoes. Sara didn’t like that answer, of course. It had devolved into another fight between them. But the whole thing had always struck Mae as kind of funny. No detail or quirk of personality is too small to be despised in those we dislike.

That was how she felt about Saoirse in this moment. The way the woman alternated between blunt and cryptic drove Mae up the wall. Gold earrings with a silver necklace? Tacky. Stop touching my boyfriend’s arm! she screamed inside her head. On and on like that, an ugly merry-go-round of petty little grievances.

And now, here she was, putting Mae through the wringer of question after question like she was being deposed. Add that to the list as well.

“How do you mean?” Saoirse asked.

Mae blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“You said, ‘It feels like I am, though.’ What does that mean?”

Mae glanced over at Dominic, who had remained steadfastly silent pretty much since the moment of Saoirse’s arrival.

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