It's my job to worry." She pulled back and looked at him with Diana's eyes, that exact shade, that exact steady quality, and said with complete sincerity, "You should have more fun." Then she turned around and walked into her grandmother's house, already announcing something about the botanical garden. Malcolm stood in the doorway for a moment longer than he needed to. Then he picked up his bag and went to meet his fake fiance.
The car Vanessa had arranged a black SUV, discreet and comfortable, met them at the corner near the office. Malcolm arrived at 11:58. Vanessa was already there standing beside the car with a leather weekend bag at her feet and sunglasses on, wearing a cream linen jacket over a silk top, looking like the exact kind of woman who attended weddings at Coastal Maine resorts. She looked at him. He looked at her.
You're on time, she said. I'm always on time. I know. She seemed to consider whether to say something else, then didn't. The driver opened the door and she got in first.
Malcolm stood on the sidewalk for exactly 3 seconds. Rule number three, he thought. Then he got in the car. The drive to Hartwell Resort took 4 hours. For the first 30 minutes, they said almost nothing.
Vanessa read documents on her tablet. Malcolm looked out the window. The city gradually thinned glass and concrete, giving way to highway, highway, giving way to trees. Trees giving way to the particular quality of light that appeared near the ocean. At the 40-minute mark, Vanessa said without looking up, "My mother's name is Diane."
Malcolm turned from the window. "Same as my wife," he said quietly. Now she looked up. "I didn't know that." "No reason you would."
She held his gaze. Then she said, "Is that going to be strange for the weekend?" "No," he said. And he meant it. "It's a common name."
She nodded slowly. My mother is she's a good person. She loves all of her children genuinely and completely. She also has very particular ideas about what their happiness is supposed to look like and she will pursue those ideas with the energy of someone who has never once doubted herself. A pause.
She'll love you, will she? You're exactly her type of person. She grew up around men who built things. My grandfather was a contractor. She almost smiled.
You'll have her in 10 minutes. And your father, quieter, observant. He'll watch you more than he'll talk to you. She paused again. He'll ask you about Lily.