Nantucket Sisters by Nancy Thayer Read Free Book Online Page A

front of cars as if they’re late for church.
    As the land warms, the white flowers of Quaker ladies and shad bushes bloom in bridal profusion. In the summer, pink rosa rugosa and scarlet wood lilies play like children in the breeze.
    The land doesn’t know who owns it. It was here before owners, and will be here after, content with itself in all seasons. The wind’s passion is as welcome as the sun’s heat, it loves equally driving rain and calm moonlight.
    The land was here before people, thinks Maggie. It endures. It provides soil for the roots and tunnels and burrows, solid earth for the weight and thump of feet, safe ground for the tickle of the crawling beetle, and for the bird beating homeward with its wings.
    Does it love Maggie? Does it sense her own feelings of kinship when she squats to run her hands over a boulder, as if reading a message? Maybe it does.
    She is loyal to this land. She belongs to it. Yet even this ancientland changes, has seasons, weathers, buds, and blossoms. She’s changing, too. At the end of the summer she’s leaving for Wheaton College in southeastern Massachusetts, not so very far away … but far enough. Maggie dislikes how she feels more nervous than eager.
    On the first Saturday of July, Maggie stands at the end of the driveway, waiting for Emily. A red Jeep goes by, and a gray pickup truck, and a figure on a bike comes into view, then sweeps on past—a guy in bright spandex biking gear. Will the summer come when Emily doesn’t call? Everyone’s changing. Most of Maggie’s friends are having sex and leaving for college this fall. Ben is twenty, already in college in Boston. Maggie herself is leaving at the end of the summer. She knows it’s time to put away childish things, but not yet. Not just yet.
    A convertible whizzes along, skidding as it turns into the Ramsdale driveway. In pink shorts and sneakers, Emily flies from the car.
    “Maggie!”
    They hug, nearly jumping up and down as they always do the first time they meet after a winter. Standing back, they study each other. The first few moments after a winter’s absence are like a Polaroid photo developing, slowly allowing their familiar selves to come clear through the year’s changes.
    “You’re so tall!” Maggie exclaims. Emily has grown a good four inches taller than Maggie in the past year. She looks older, with her stylish, expensive haircut, and Maggie feels like a kid in her cutoff jeans and white tee shirt, her black braid hanging down her back.
    “You’re so tanned already!”
    “Hello, Maggie.” Emily’s mother slides out of the convertible and approaches the girls. She’s wearing tennis whites, complete with a glittering diamond tennis bracelet on her wrist. Sunglasses hide her eyes, but she’s clearly studying Maggie.
    “Hello, Mrs. Porter,” Maggie politely responds. She doesn’t smile or gush; she knows what Emily’s mother thinks of year-rounders.
    “Look at you,” Cara Porter says. “You’ve become a stunning beauty. My God, you’re Angelina Jolie all over again.”
    “Thank you, Mrs. Porter.” Maggie feels the impulse to curtsy, then chokes back a snort of laughter at herself. “Would you like to come in?”
    Cara steps backward. “Thank you, dear, that’s sweet of you, but I’ve got to hurry along to the club for my tennis game. Perhaps another time.” She slips gracefully back into her Saab convertible. “Have fun, Emily.”
    Maggie takes Emily’s hand, and just like that, they’re best friends again. “Come say hello to Mom.”
    Emily follows Maggie inside. The air smells of flowers and baking.
    “Emily! Sweetheart!” Frances hugs Emily. “How lovely you’ve become,” she says, brushing a hand lightly over Emily’s long blond hair. “The first batch of cookies will be out in a minute.”
    “Great.” Maggie leads Emily up the stairs and through the hall, ending up in Maggie’s room, where they throw themselves on her bed and stare at the ceiling.
    “Your mom