Beautiful Day Read Free Page A

both see clearly now: the north and south steeples of the churches, the
     column of Brant Point Lighthouse.
    Nantucket Island, their summer home.
    Jenna squeezed the heck out of Margot’s hand. Just as Jenna had helped Margot with
     her seasickness by remembering to bring the Dramamine, so now Margot would forget
     about the unnerving interaction with Griffin Wheatley, Homecoming King, and focus
     on helping Jenna with her surfeit of overwhelming emotion.
    “I miss her,” Jenna said.
    Margot’s eyes stung. The longest, most excruciating weekend of her life had officially
     begun.
    “I know, honey,” she said, hugging her sister close. “I miss her, too.”

THE NOTEBOOK, PAGE 4
The Reception
    The reception can be held under a tent in the backyard. Call Sperry Tents and ask
     for Ande. I worked with him on the benefit for the Nantucket Preservation Trust and
     he was a dream. I do here want to insert a warning and I hope you won’t find it trivial:
     I would be heartbroken if anything happened to my perennial bed. By “perennial bed,”
     I mean the narrow garden that runs along the eastern edge of the property from the
     white gate all the way to Alfie’strunk. The blue hardy geraniums, the moonbeam coreopsis, the black-eyed Susans, the
     plum pudding Heuchera, the coneflowers—all of these I planted in 1972, when I was
     pregnant with Margot. That bed has bloomed reliably for decades because I have taken
     good care of it. None of you children seem to have inherited my love of gardening
     (unless you count Nick, and the pot plants in the attic), but trust me, you will notice
     if one summer those flowers don’t bloom. Please, Jenna, make sure the perennial bed
     remains unmolested. Do not let the tent guys, or anyone else, trample my blue hardy
     geraniums.

DOUGLAS
    S omehow, he had ended up with the Notebook.
    It was Thursday afternoon. Doug had left the office early and had taken the 3:52 to
     Norwalk, Connecticut, where he lived with Pauline, in a house across the street from
     the Silvermine Tavern. But when the conductor announced the stop for Darien, Doug
     grabbed his briefcase and stood halfway up before remembering.
    Remembering that the life he had lived for thirty-five years—married to Beth, father
     of four, in a center-entrance colonial on the Post Road—was over. Beth was dead, she’d
     been dead seven years, the kids had all moved out, they had lives of their own, some
     of which they’d already managed to screw up, and Doug was now married to Pauline Tonelli,
     who had, once upon a time, been his client.
    This wasn’t the first time he’d nearly stood up at the Darien stop. But it seemed
     more meaningful today because today wasn’tjust any Thursday. Today was the Thursday before his youngest child got married.
    The girls, as far as Doug knew, were already on Nantucket. They had a reservation
     for Margot’s car on the afternoon ferry, which meant they would be arriving right
     about now, driving up Main Street to their home on Orange Street. They would pull
     the key from under the stone turtle in the garden, where the key had always been kept,
     despite the caretaker. They would walk into the house, they would throw open the windows
     and unstick the back screen door, they would turn on the water heater, they would
     make a shopping list. They would hasten to get all the suitcases inside, but they
     would be arrested by the view of the sparkling harbor below. Margot’s kids would head
     out to the backyard to see Alfie, the two-hundred-year-old oak tree, and sit in the
     swing. Or at least Ellie would; the boys might be beyond that now.
    Of course, Doug remembered when it was Jenna in that swing.
    Pauline’s car wasn’t in the driveway, which came as a relief. For the past twelve
     months, maybe longer, Doug had found he was happier without Pauline around. This was
     a bad sign. For his entire professional life, Doug had sat on one side of his partners
     desk and listened while the