Page 76 of The Book of Summer

A “fairly serious” girlfriend? Of course he does. But then, why should she care?

“Can it, Cissy,” she says. “I’m not even divorced yet.”

Also, she’s pregnant by someone else. Bess can’t imagine Evan Mayhew, or any other sensible male, itching to hook up with a divorced, knocked-up chick who’s already eclipsed her prime.

“It’s not like that with Evan,” Bess prattles on. “I went to him for advice. You see, there’s this very stubborn elephant I’m trying to move out of a house.”

Bess tries to sweep past her mom and on down the hallway, but Cissy springs in front of her, not dribbling a drop of booze in the process.

“Bessie, never mind those Mayhew creeps. I have terrific news. I got it!”

“Got what?”

“I got the emergency town meeting to approve the geotube installation. It’s happening tomorrow night.”

Bess doesn’t know whether to give Cissy a high-five or dissolve into a sobbing mess. Another meeting. More straws for Cissy to grasp at. More flyers for Bess to pass out.

“You did?” Bess asks.

“Yep! The information about having to buy more land and rebuild the infrastructure, well, it really made those fogies take notice. They’ve realized it’s better to keep what we have. Not only does it preserve Sconset’s historical and aesthetic integrity, it’s far cheaper. Finally, they’ve seen the light!”

“Or else they decided it’s the quickest way to get you to zip it.”

Cissy gives Bess a pinched look.

“They’re lucky someone cares as much as I do!” she says. “In twenty years—in thirty—after I’m long gone, they’ll be grateful for what I did. No one will remember my face or my name, but one day some soul will say, ‘Hey, did you know they almost let all this fall into the ocean?’”

“Congratulations. Truly. I guess the fighting will finally pay off.”

Bess makes her way toward the stairs.

“We need to discuss the big move tomorrow,” she calls over her shoulder. “And why you bought a flagpole. Right now I’m too beat. I could sleep forever.”

“It’s not even nine o’clock!”

“What can I say? I’m getting old.”

“Bessie?”

“Yes, Mom?”

She turns back around.

“You look good,” Cissy says. “Pretty. Beautiful.”

“Thanks.”

“You should lose the glasses, though. What happened to the contacts you wore in high school?”

“Twenty years ago? I can’t really say.” Bess shakes her head. “You really are something else.”

“Island life agrees with you.”

Bess remains unmoved. It’s one of Cissy’s favorite mantras.

“Thanks Mom,” she says.

“You’ve… I don’t know. Filled out.”