NINETEEN

Sasha

Sasha couldn’t sleep. Her father was home from the hospital, his breathing was improved, he was in good spirits, but still, she tossed and turned in her childhood bed, flipping her pillow over and over, searching for a cool side to calm her scurrying mind. She had been the Georgiana of her family the whole time, throwing elbows at Mullin because he didn’t belong. But there was one crucial difference: Her brothers had let her know she was wrong. Her brothers made it clear that if they had to choose sides, they chose Mullin’s. Had Cord done the same? No. He had somehow managed to play both sides, never calling out his sisters, never truly promising to pick Sasha and put his wife first. It hurt. Sasha knew that when she had fallen in love with Cord she had said she wanted someone who loved her but didn’t need her. But maybe she had been wrong. Maybe, when it came to marriage, she actually needed Cord to need her too.

She fell asleep sometime at dawn, and when she woke, she could hear the neighborhood sounds through the window she’d left cracked open. Birds in the trees, the cars driving to the wharf, the growl of a leaf blower down the street, but she heard voices in the kitchen as well, so she pulled on a pair of sweatpants, raked her hair out of her eyes, and stumbled downstairs, where she stopped and felt her face light up in a smile. Behind the spray of Peruvian lilies and magenta snapdragons Darley had sent, Cord was sitting at the table, drinking coffee with her parents, a spread of bagels and cream cheese on the cutting board before him.

“Morning, sleepyhead.” Cord jumped up and kissed her hello, then bent down to kiss the bump of her belly. “I brought breakfast from Hot Bagel on Montague.”

“Did you bring me a rainbow bagel?” Sasha pretended to inspect the bag.

“You know I did.” He held one out with a flourish, the strange red and green swirls looking more like plastic than bread.

“The food coloring just makes it taste better,” Sasha insisted happily, and set about cutting it in half and spreading the perfect amount of cream cheese on each side. Cord had already eaten three bagels and was eyeing a fourth, to everyone’s horror.

“After you two are done eating, can you please bail the boat?” Sasha’s mother asked. “It rained last night and your father is trying to go do it himself and he’s going to end up in an ambulance.”

“Dad, you’re ridiculous,” Sasha grumbled with her mouth full. “You just started breathing again, you’re not bailing the damn boat.”

“You’re pregnant. You can’t do it. I’ve felt worse from eating a bad taco, I’m fine,” her dad said belligerently, but Cord insisted he would do it, and so after they finished breakfast they bundled up in jackets, grabbed the oars and two empty milk jugs, and walked down to the river. Sasha still knew the combination for the lock on the dinghy, and she climbed aboard while Cord shoved them off the dock and jumped in after her. Together they rowed out to the boat, which did, indeed, have about three inches of water in the bottom.

Cord used the milk jugs to bail, and after he finished he sat back, stretching his arms and rolling his shoulders. It was a fall weekday and the landing was calm. The serious fishermen had gone out hours ago, the summer people were long departed, and the fussy weekend boats floated idly on their moorings.

“Hey, I missed you.” Sasha leaned over and kissed Cord on the cheek. “Why’d you come?”

“I was worried about you. And your dad. I’ve been feeling so stupid the past week. I should have gotten in the car with you as soon as I heard.”

“Well, I didn’t really give you the chance,” Sasha admitted.

“No—” Cord started.

“But I was also sort of mad at everyone,” she continued.

“I know you were. I’m sorry about Georgiana. And Darley.”

“I’m mad at you too, Cord.”

“Yeah, I know. But I wasn’t thrilled with the way you yelled at everyone. You were pretty out of bounds.”

“It was three against one! Your whole family was ganging up on me! You were taking their side—you always take their side,” Sasha cried.

“I don’t think that’s true.” He frowned.

“You know why your sisters didn’t like me, right?” Sasha pushed. “They didn’t like me because I’m not your class. Because I’m not old money.”

“No, that’s not it.” Cord shook his head, wrinkling his brow. “It’s nothing like that.”

“Cord, it is,” Sasha insisted. “It’s uncomfortable to talk about class, I know you get all awkward and WASPy whenever it comes up. And it’s most uncomfortable for the really rich and the really poor. But you and I are from two different classes. And that’s weird. When you marry outside your class it’s somehow too difficult to even discuss. We just ignored it.”

“We ignored it because neither of us cared about it,” Cord said.

“God, you know what sucks to think about?” Sasha stopped and pressed her lips together, unsure if she could keep going.

“What?”

“I probably did like it that you were rich. I feel like a terrible person saying that. Obviously, it’s not why I love you. I love you because you are funny and kind and sexy and you make everything exciting. I didn’t even know anything about you when we met. But probably on some level it was attractive. I feel disgusting saying that. I’m not a gold digger. I’m just being honest.”

Cord was watching Sasha carefully, and she kept going. “But I didn’t know what it would actually mean for our lives. I didn’t know that I’d always feel like an intruder.”

“You’re not an intruder. You’re my wife.”

“But I feel like one. And you aren’t doing enough to help say that I belong.”

“What can I do?”

Sasha leaned over and put her forehead against his. “You can choose me,” she whispered.

“I do choose you.”

“I want you to take my side. I want to be your family now. I want you to put me first.” She never thought she would ask for this. She never thought she would have to. But she needed Cord to say it.

“I can do that. I’ll put you first.”

She looked at him. He was so serious, wearing an expression she rarely saw, his eyebrows pinched and his eyes bright. She knew he meant it. The pregnancy was changing things between them. She felt her anger and frustration draining away. “You know, I think that flower arrangement Darley sent cost more than the flowers for our wedding.”

“I saw your mom taking a Claritin this morning.”

“But Darley also wrote me an apology note. About the whole ‘GD’ thing.”

“Can I see it?”

“Yeah, here.” Sasha pulled her phone out of her pocket and opened the text chain.

Sasha, I’ve been thinking of you so much, hoping your father is feeling better. But I have also been thinking about what I said and feeling like the biggest idiot. Do you remember that time Hatcher scooped a stranger’s hair off the floor of Choo Choo Cuts and put it in my purse and I was finding strands in my wallet for weeks? Or do you remember the time I picked up the wrong beer at Fornino’s on the pier and when I sipped it a cigarette butt went in my mouth? Or when the dry cleaner accidentally dropped off my neighbor’s Pucci dress at my apartment and I figured it was my mom’s so I wore it and the neighbor saw me in the lobby and yelled at me? This is so much worse than any of that. Please forgive me.

Cord laughed in spite of himself. “Are you still mad at her?” He passed Sasha her phone.

“Nah, we’re good.” She smiled.

“Thank God. I mean, I’m still on your side! But thank God you’re friends again.”

Sasha leaned forward and kissed him and Cord kissed her back then slipped a hand under her jacket. When she pulled away he grinned. “Do you think we’d capsize the boat if we . . .”

“If we capsize the boat that would definitely put my dad back in the hospital.” Sasha laughed. She straightened her jacket where Cord had pulled it up and then together they climbed into the dinghy, rowing past the big fiberglass cruisers, past the tiny aluminum canoes, back to the shore.

---

Sasha and Cord ate an early dinner with her parents, pasta and meatballs with paper towel napkins in the kitchen, not a tablescape in sight, and then went to meet her brothers at the marina. Nate had a new girlfriend with a boat, and he had apparently been living onboard with her ever since they met in a bar months earlier. Sasha parked the car in the lot, and they made their way down the boardwalk, Cord carrying a six-pack of IPAs. While Sasha’s father kept his small aluminum boat moored in the river, the marina was home to the vessels that were too big to make it past the wharf at low tide—cabin cruisers, sailboats, bowriders, and deck boats. The marina had hookups to electricity and wi-fi, and it wasn’t unusual for folks in town to take up residence at the marina when they got tired of staring at the same four walls. Sasha knew most of the boats by sight, and as they walked along she pointed out their names to Cord. There was the big, thirty-four-foot Chris-Craft that belonged to her middle school soccer coach, a floating RV with a sleeping area, a dining table, and a bathroom down below. It was named Sweet Samantha after his daughter, a girl Sasha knew had gone on to marry a Croatian kickboxer with sleeves of tattoos. There was the 1985 Tollycraft Sundeck motor yacht named Wifey that belonged to a gay couple who lived out on Marsh Road. There was the pretty little Bayliner with red and blue stripes named Fishin’ Impossible, the Axopar 37 Sun Top named Liquid Assets. Sasha’s brother Olly had often fantasized about buying a yacht and naming it the Wet Dream, but luckily he was too broke to buy even a kayak. Sasha waved hello to each boat as they passed, owners relaxing on the aft deck with red Solo cups or serving dinner on the fly bridge, and she briefly felt like they were walking through a series of living rooms.

“Where are Nate and Olly?” Cord wondered.

“He didn’t say where her slip was, but I’m sure we’ll hear them,” Sasha said dryly.

They rounded a bend in the dock and Olly’s voice boomed out over the water. “Sashimi! Umbilical Cord!”

“Yep, there they are.” Sasha rolled her eyes.

Her brothers were sprawled out on the aft deck of a sixty-foot Carver motor yacht, the name of the boat, The Searcher, stenciled on the transom, with the hailing port, Newport, RI, below. It was a huge vessel, old but gleaming white, with stairs that led up to a glassed-in deck, a flybridge and cockpit, and through the sliding-glass doors Sasha could spy a bedroom.

“Wow, nice digs,” Cord whistled.

“Shelby got it like ten years ago.” Nate stood to hug them both hello as Olly reached into the cooler to fish out a can of beer. “She bought it when she was still living in California.”

A woman appeared on the staircase, barefoot in jeans and a light-blue hoodie. “Hey! You’re here!” She was tall and skinny, maybe early forties, with her hair pulled back into a stubby ponytail. “I’m so excited to meet you!” She gave both Sasha and Cord huge, tight hugs and bumped Nate over on the cushioned bench to make room for them to sit. “How’s your dad doing today? I’ve been worried.”

“Oh, he seems like himself,” Sasha answered. “He was making my mother crazy refusing to sit still and rest. He bought four boxes of nightcrawlers to take fishing, but she won’t let him go, so now half the fridge in the kitchen is full of sea worms.” Sasha had seen guests at their house recoil in horror when they realized that the shiny white pastry boxes were filled with writhing piles of bait rather than cookies or chocolates.

“We’ll come take them off his hands, right, Nate?” Shelby grinned. “We’ve been going out fishing most mornings before work.”

“What do you do for work?” Cord asked.

“Oh, I work in app development.” Shelby waved her hand vaguely. “Hey, Sasha, congratulations on the baby! You must be so excited! And I haven’t offered you anything to eat or drink! I got these seltzers.” Shelby reached into the cooler and pulled out two White Claw spiked seltzers, one lemon and one blackberry.

“Oh.” Sasha smiled politely, “I’m not drinking while I’m pregnant. I mean, I’m sure a few drinks here and there would be fine, but I just lost the taste for alcohol.”

“These are seltzers, though.” Shelby frowned.

“They’re hard seltzers,” Sasha explained. “They’re like beers.”

“Oh, oops,” she laughed. “I’ve been drinking them all afternoon! I wondered why I was in such a good mood! I think I’ve had four.”

Sasha tried to catch Nate’s eye—his girlfriend was kind of funny—but he was just smiling and shaking his head.

“How long have you guys been seeing each other?” Cord asked Nate.

“Couple of months, I think.”

“I picked him up at the Cap Club.”

“No, I picked her up.” Nate nuzzled Shelby’s neck.

“Gross.” Olly frowned.

“You guys should come fishing with us tomorrow. Nate and I have been getting really lucky with stripers.”

“Any keepers?” Cord asked.

“A few.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket and tapped a little icon. “This is one of my projects. It’s an app where you can take a picture of your catch and it will identify the fish for you. Then you scan the length, and it tells you if it’s a keeper or if you need to throw it back.”

“Oh, I’ll download that.” Cord pulled his own phone out of his pocket, leaning over so that Shelby could help him find it in the store.

“Cord,” Olly said, “when, in Brooklyn Heights, do you plan to catch a keeper?”

“I mean, it wouldn’t be a daily thing,” Cord muttered.

“It’s okay, Cord.” Shelby laughed. “I’m always working on a million ideas. What should my next project be?”

“I actually do have an app idea,” Cord said, brightening. “I can’t stand those people who honk all the time. I want an app that tracks how much people honk, and then at the end of the day, when they are trying to fall asleep, their phone just blares a honking noise at them for the exact amount of time they honked.”

“Cord, I love you man, but who the fuck would put that on their own phone?” Nate asked.

“Okay, I have one,” Olly jumped in. “You put in the contact info for any girl you’re hooking up with and every Thursday night it automatically texts, ‘Hey beautiful, I was just thinking about you!’ ”

“Yeah, I’m not making that app.” Shelby poked Olly on his shoulder.

“I know,” said Sasha. “An app where you point your phone at an avocado and it tells you if it’s stringy or brown inside.”

“I want one called Richup,” said Nate. “It goes through all your photos and adds in a Rolex and a horse.”

They all laughed and spent the next hour coming up with terrible ideas as Shelby gamely pretended to consider them. After a while Sasha needed to use the bathroom and Shelby led her inside, showing her the two staterooms, the galley, the dining room, the salon, and then finally the head. While the boat was at least fifteen years old, it was neat and well maintained, with shiny chrome and cherrywood details. It was truly a floating apartment.

Shelby made up snacks in the galley, Ritz Crackers with cubes of Vermont cheddar, a pile of grapes, and a plastic tray of Oreo cookies. She carried them out to the deck with a stack of paper napkins all bearing the name of the boat, The Searcher, in fancy gold foil. Around midnight Sasha yawned, and so she, Cord, and Olly said their goodbyes and left the lovebirds alone in their floating nest.

Olly gallantly offered to carry their trash and recycling to the bins by the parking lot, and together they made their way along the pier, talking quietly so as not to rouse anyone who might be sleeping in the neighboring boats.

“She’s a sweet girl,” Sasha murmured. “She seems to really like Nate.”

“Shocking, right?” Olly replied.

“I hope one of her projects works,” Sasha mused.

“She’ll be fine.”

“I mean, there are millions of apps published every year. It’s a long-shot career path.”

“Oh, these are just for fun. She’s basically been retired since she was thirty.” Olly chucked the trash into the bin.

“What do you mean, retired?” asked Sasha, confused.

“Shelby was employee seventy-three at Google. That’s millions in stocks.”

Sasha felt her jaw drop. Shelby was loaded, super-super-superrich. She started to laugh. “Oh, Nate,” she said, shaking her head. “He can just buy himself a Rolex and horse.”