Read Online Beautiful Day by Elin Hilderbrand - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Elin Hilderbrand
Ads: Link
happily sleep until morning.
But she was the maid of honor. She had to do this for Jenna.
And her mother.
The Galley was a bewitching restaurant. It was the only fine dining on Nantucket located
on the beach. Most of the seating was under an awning with open sides bordered by
planters filled with red and pink geraniums. There were divans and papasan chairs
and tiki torches out in the sand. There was a zinc bar. The crowd was buzzing and
beautiful. Over the years, Margot had seen an assortment of powerful and famous people
at these tables: Martha Stewart, Madonna, Dustin Hoffman, Ted Kennedy, Michael Douglas
and Catherine Zeta-Jones, Robert DeNiro. The Galley was see and be seen. It was, always,
on any given night, the place to be.
They were seated at a table for four in the main dining room, but in the part of the
room that was closer to the parking lot. Autumn didn’t sit down right away; she was
scanning the surroundings. Finally, she settled in her chair. She said, “I think we
should ask for a better table.”
Margot felt something sinking and rising in her at the same time. Spirits sinking,
ire rising. She said, “A better table,
where?
This place is packed!”
“Out in the sand, maybe,” Autumn said. “Where there’s more action.”
Margot couldn’t believe this. She’d had a hell of a time even getting
this
reservation for eight o’clock on a Thursday night in July. She had called on the
Tuesday after Memorial Day and had been told, initially, that the restaurant was
booked,
but her name could be added to the wait list. And now Autumn—the so-called restaurant
professional—was
complaining?
Insinuating that Margot hadn’t been important or
insistent
enough to score a better table? It was Autumn’s fault that the bachelorette party
was being held tonight, at the very last minute, instead of weeks or months earlier,
which was more traditional. There were five people’s schedules to accommodate, and
so Margot had put forth options, all of them enticing. A ski weekend in Stowe, or
a spring weekend out at the spa in Canyon Ranch. But Autumn hadn’t been able to make
either one.
Weekends are really hard for me,
she’d written.
Well, it was nearly impossible to plan a bachelorette party
during the week,
but Margot gave it a shot and threw together something in Boca Raton the week of
Jenna’s spring break from Little Minds, but again Autumn couldn’t attend, so Margot
canceled.
Then Jenna told Margot she thought the real problem with Autumn was money. She was,
after all, waiting tables.
Margot wondered
why
Autumn was waiting tables. She had a degree from the College of William and Mary,
where she had majored in political science. She could have done anything with that—grad
school, law school, think tanks. She could have taught like Jenna or gone into business,
an Internet start-up, anything. Margot was impatient with people who didn’t live up
to their potential. This, she supposed, was the result of having been married to Drum
Sr. Drum Sr. was so unambitious, it was like he was moving backward.
Margot ignored Autumn’s dissatisfaction with their table. She asked the waiter (who
was a woman, but one of the things Margot had learned over the years from Autumn was
that the term “waitress,” like the term “actress,” was outdated) for a wine list.
The wine list appeared, and Margot asked Jenna, “White or red?”
Jenna waved a hand. “I don’t care. Either.”
Margot didn’t ask Finn or Autumn for input, even though she could
feel
Autumn staring at her. Probably Autumn wanted the wine list. Well, too bad, Margot
was going to exercise her sovereign right as maid of honor and pick the wine.
One white, one red. Margot preferred Sancerres and Malbecs. Sancerres reminded her
of Drum Sr. (he had wooed her the first summer they dated by taking her to a restaurant
called the Blue Bistro—which had since closed—and plying her
But she was the maid of honor. She had to do this for Jenna.
And her mother.
The Galley was a bewitching restaurant. It was the only fine dining on Nantucket located
on the beach. Most of the seating was under an awning with open sides bordered by
planters filled with red and pink geraniums. There were divans and papasan chairs
and tiki torches out in the sand. There was a zinc bar. The crowd was buzzing and
beautiful. Over the years, Margot had seen an assortment of powerful and famous people
at these tables: Martha Stewart, Madonna, Dustin Hoffman, Ted Kennedy, Michael Douglas
and Catherine Zeta-Jones, Robert DeNiro. The Galley was see and be seen. It was, always,
on any given night, the place to be.
They were seated at a table for four in the main dining room, but in the part of the
room that was closer to the parking lot. Autumn didn’t sit down right away; she was
scanning the surroundings. Finally, she settled in her chair. She said, “I think we
should ask for a better table.”
Margot felt something sinking and rising in her at the same time. Spirits sinking,
ire rising. She said, “A better table,
where?
This place is packed!”
“Out in the sand, maybe,” Autumn said. “Where there’s more action.”
Margot couldn’t believe this. She’d had a hell of a time even getting
this
reservation for eight o’clock on a Thursday night in July. She had called on the
Tuesday after Memorial Day and had been told, initially, that the restaurant was
booked,
but her name could be added to the wait list. And now Autumn—the so-called restaurant
professional—was
complaining?
Insinuating that Margot hadn’t been important or
insistent
enough to score a better table? It was Autumn’s fault that the bachelorette party
was being held tonight, at the very last minute, instead of weeks or months earlier,
which was more traditional. There were five people’s schedules to accommodate, and
so Margot had put forth options, all of them enticing. A ski weekend in Stowe, or
a spring weekend out at the spa in Canyon Ranch. But Autumn hadn’t been able to make
either one.
Weekends are really hard for me,
she’d written.
Well, it was nearly impossible to plan a bachelorette party
during the week,
but Margot gave it a shot and threw together something in Boca Raton the week of
Jenna’s spring break from Little Minds, but again Autumn couldn’t attend, so Margot
canceled.
Then Jenna told Margot she thought the real problem with Autumn was money. She was,
after all, waiting tables.
Margot wondered
why
Autumn was waiting tables. She had a degree from the College of William and Mary,
where she had majored in political science. She could have done anything with that—grad
school, law school, think tanks. She could have taught like Jenna or gone into business,
an Internet start-up, anything. Margot was impatient with people who didn’t live up
to their potential. This, she supposed, was the result of having been married to Drum
Sr. Drum Sr. was so unambitious, it was like he was moving backward.
Margot ignored Autumn’s dissatisfaction with their table. She asked the waiter (who
was a woman, but one of the things Margot had learned over the years from Autumn was
that the term “waitress,” like the term “actress,” was outdated) for a wine list.
The wine list appeared, and Margot asked Jenna, “White or red?”
Jenna waved a hand. “I don’t care. Either.”
Margot didn’t ask Finn or Autumn for input, even though she could
feel
Autumn staring at her. Probably Autumn wanted the wine list. Well, too bad, Margot
was going to exercise her sovereign right as maid of honor and pick the wine.
One white, one red. Margot preferred Sancerres and Malbecs. Sancerres reminded her
of Drum Sr. (he had wooed her the first summer they dated by taking her to a restaurant
called the Blue Bistro—which had since closed—and plying her
Similar Books
