Elin Hilderbrand - The Rumor

“She’s nothing like me,” Hope said. “She’s beautiful and shallow.”

Benton didn’t flinch at this assessment. “You’re beautiful,” he said.

Hope shrugged. She could tell when someone was saying this just to be nice. “She’s more beautiful. She and her best friend, Hollis, are the most popular girls in the school. Allegra has been dating Brick Llewellyn since the start of sophomore year, but now she’s bored with him, but instead of just breaking up with him, she’s been hanging out with this kid named Ian who goes to BC.”

“BC,” Benton said. “Good school.”

Clearly, Benton hadn’t heard Eddie’s joke.

“She’s not cheating on him,” Hope said quickly. As much as she was aching for Allegra to get her comeuppance, she couldn’t seem to be the one to turn her in. “But she isn’t being very nice.”

“And that bothers you?” Benton said.

“I want her to act like a decent human being,” Hope said. She wished all this sounded less like an episode of Degrassi and more like painful, complicated real life. “Do you have any advice?”

“Actually,” Benton said, “I do.”

At that moment, Grace poked her head out the back sliding door. She seemed delighted to see Hope and Benton talking. “Benton,” she said, “lunch is ready.” To Hope, she said, “Honey? Would you like a ham sandwich?”

Hope shrugged. As always, her mother ruined everything. “I guess,” she said.

Just when she thought life couldn’t get any better, she received a phone call from Hester Phan.

“I have exciting news,” Hester said. Hester was a serious Vietnamese American woman with a deadpan voice. She sounded as if she were calling to tell Grace that there was a sale on rubber gloves at the Stop & Shop.

“You do?” Grace said.

“The home-and-garden editor of the Boston Globe loved the photos. They want to do a feature in the Sunday paper.”

Grace shrieked. “When?” she said.

“They’re sending a writer and photographer on July twenty-first,” Hester said, “to run five days later on Sunday the twenty-sixth.”

They had less than a month to get ready!

“Whoo-hoo!” Grace said. “Thank you, Hester, thank you!”

“That’s my job,” Hester said. “I’ll call closer to the date with the exact details. And I’ll send Eddie my final bill.”

Grace hung up. She didn’t know whether to call Eddie or Benton first. The right thing to do was to call Eddie. This was his house, and he was paying Hester’s fee. Besides, she wanted to tell Benton in person.

She said, “You’re not going to believe this! The Boston Globe said yes! The Sunday Boston Globe!”

“Yes to what?” Eddie said.

“Yes to the gardening feature!” Grace said.

“Oh, right, right,” Eddie said. “Does this mean I can stop paying Hester?”

“After the final bill,” Grace said. “Which, I think we agreed, includes a success bonus.”

“Why should she get a bonus for success?” Eddie said. “It’s her job. She should succeed as a matter of course, not get a bonus for it.” He sounded like he was in some kind of cavern. His voice was reverberating, and Grace could hear his footsteps.

“Where are you?” she said.

“Number thirteen Eagle Wing Lane,” he said.

“It sounds empty,” Grace said. “Aren’t there supposed to be guys working?”

“Yes,” Eddie said. “There are supposed to be guys working.”

She couldn’t decipher the tone of his voice. Was he being sarcastic?

She didn’t care. She was too excited about the Sunday Boston Globe. She said, “Honey, aren’t you happy for me?”

“Thrilled,” Eddie said.

Grace hung up. Eddie didn’t sound thrilled-but what had she expected?

She wished the girls were home, but Hope had started her job at the church rectory, and Allegra was off island at her new SAT-prep course. Instead of once a week for six weeks, this class met every day for a week, including Saturday. Allegra needed yet another prep class because the other class had resulted in only a thirty-point increase in her critical-reading score, and her math score had stayed the same. Neither score was very high.

Eddie wasn’t happy about spending money on another class, in addition to the cost of flying her back and forth.

Grace said that some people just didn’t test well.

Eddie said she wasn’t trying. Had Grace ever seen her studying?

No, Grace had not seen Allegra studying, and, furthermore, Allegra was out every single night.

Grace would tell the girls about the Sunday Boston Globe that evening at dinner.

Would they care?

Grace wanted to call Madeline, but Madeline had been very busy writing her new novel at the apartment, and Grace didn’t want to interrupt her. However, she was too excited to keep the news to herself, and it was still half an hour until Benton would arrive.

Grace sent Madeline a text: Sunday Boston Globe featuring my garden July 26!

Madeline texted back: Great!

Grace tried not to feel deflated. Great! was an appropriate response. She couldn’t expect anyone to understand how far beyond Great! this was.

Grace pulled the cork from a bottle of vintage Veuve Clicquot that she had found down in Eddie’s wine fridge just as Benton rounded the corner of the house.

“Champagne?” he said. “What happened to mint tea?”

Grace poured two glasses but left them on the table. She said, “Hester Phan called.”

He said, “Break it to me gently.”

She said, “On Sunday, July twenty-sixth, we are going to be featured in the… Boston Globe!”

Benton swung her in a circle and let out a cowboy rodeo whoop.

This was the reaction Grace had been craving. As Benton took her face in his hands and started to kiss her, she marveled at how it felt to have someone in her life who shared her passion for this yard and who was just as over the moon about this feature as she was. A partner. A friend.

And more.

Benton pulled Grace by the hand toward the garden shed, leaving their champagne in the sun.

The following day, Grace received an invitation to the Nantucket Garden Club’s Sunset Soiree. This year’s soiree was being held at Jean Burton’s home, which Grace had always thought of as the House of a Thousand Koi Ponds (really only five, but for Grace that was five too many). Jean was president of the Nantucket Garden Club; she had taken over for Grace when Grace’s term ended. Jean was a native Texan, filled with charm and hospitality. She continued to call Grace for advice and help with logistics, and she kept Grace in the loop, even though Grace had become consumed with her own project.

Grace had been president for six years and had hosted the Sunset Soiree in her own yard years earlier at their old house, on Dover Street. The Sunset Soiree was a fabulous event, and for all the years Grace was involved, she had brought Madeline as her date.

But this year, she thought, she would take Benton.

She called Madeline to see what she thought.

“What if I took Benton to the Sunset Soiree?” Grace asked. “Would you be mad?”

Madeline was silent, but in the background, Grace could hear the sound of her pen scratching against paper, as well as the hum of her laptop.

“I won’t be mad,” Madeline said. “I like the Sunset Soiree just fine. The gardens are pretty, the food is good-but it’s really your thing.”

“I just don’t want you to think I’m ditching you for Benton,” Grace said.

“That’s not the problem,” Madeline said. “The problem is you being seen in public with Benton.”

Yes, Grace had considered this. And yet, she really wanted to venture out in the wider world with Benton. The island was four miles wide by thirteen miles long; they couldn’t exactly go to dinner at the Ship’s Inn or walk the Sconset bluff hand in hand. The Sunset Soiree was a garden-club function, Benton was her landscape architect, and they had something to jointly brag about. Grace couldn’t wait to tell Jean Burton and Susan Prendergast and Monica Delray about the Sunday Boston Globe! The Sunset Soiree would be a safe and appropriate place for her and Benton to go together.

“I’ll ask Eddie’s permission,” Grace said. “I’m sure he’ll say yes.”

“I’m sure he will say yes,” Madeline said. She sighed. “But you know how those women talk, Grace. Remember how Blond Sharon made such a big deal when Monica showed up in the mismatched Chanel flats? She accused Monica of being drunk when she got dressed, and three days later, everyone had her checking in to Betty Ford. Those women are vipers. They’re ruthless. If you go with Benton, they’ll have a field day with it.”

“Blond Sharon can kiss my ass,” Grace said.

“You can do what you want,” Madeline said. “But, as your best friend, I have to tell you, I would feel much better about you going with Benton if the two of you weren’t…”

“I know,” Grace said. And she did know. But she didn’t care. She wanted to go to the Sunset Soiree with Benton. She wanted to have fun.

That night, she broached the topic with Eddie.

“You don’t care if I go to the Sunset Soiree with Benton, do you?”

“What’s the Sunset Soiree?” Eddie asked.

“The garden-club thing.”

He waved a hand. “Have at it,” he said. “As long as I don’t have to go.” He ran a Bremner wafer through butter. His heartburn had been so bad recently, he’d told Grace, that he could barely eat anything else.

Grace asked Benton the following morning. “Would you go as my date to the Sunset Soiree?”

His face lit up. “I’d love to,” he said.

“It’s at Jean Burton’s house,” Grace said.

“Koi ponds,” Benton said.

Grace kissed him and grinned. She could not believe how in sync they were.