Nantucket Sisters Read Free Page A

we’re sisters.”
    Maggie proudly specifies: “Nantucket sisters.”

CHAPTER TWO
    The next morning, Emily’s mother drives Emily to the yacht club to sign her up for sailing lessons.
    “You’re going to have such fun!”
    Emily wants very much to please her mother. She senses that Cara is disappointed with her because Emily looks like her father, who is big, muscular, and freckled, instead of like Cara, who is petite and slim. Emily does have her mother’s blond hair and blue eyes, but they adorn a slightly long, horsey face, her father’s face. Emily has overheard her mother say, “Perhaps she’ll grow out of it.”
    Emily prays every night that her face and body will change. She can only wait.
    But now, with her mother watching, she trots along with the other kids in their yellow life jackets, out of the echoing clubhouse, past the patio where tables are being set up for lunch, over the emerald green lawn, and down the wooden docks to the rainbows bobbing in the dark blue water. Their instructors are good-looking, private-school, private-college kids in deck shoes, white shorts,navy blue polo shirts, all tanned and good-natured, hearty and welcoming. Emily’s glad they’re so nice.
    Five other kids are in her group, among them Tiffany Howard. A wiry, energetic redhead, she’s obviously used to being on boats. Emily forces herself to pay attention to the instructors. She knows nothing about boats and is terrified of making a fool of herself. Her body feels stiff, made of sticks. She keeps bumping into things as the instructors point out the centerboard, rudder, tiller, hull, mast, bow, stern, boom. So much to learn. It’s scary.
    Once they’re out on the water, actually sailing, Emily relaxes. The playful smack of the wind against the sail, the bob and glide of the boat, her hair blowing back from her neck, cooling her while the sun shines brightly down—all of it fills her with an unexpected, unaccountable happiness. Each student has a turn with the tiller and mainsheet, and when Emily feels the living tug of the wind and sea, her heart leaps in her chest. She can’t stop smiling. She wants to sail to India.
    As they walk back toward the patio after their lesson, Tiffany says to Emily, “You’re a natural sailor.”
    Emily blinks in surprise. “I am?”
    “Yeah, can’t you tell? You should come out with us sometime on my parents’ boat. It’s an eighteen-foot Marshall cat.”
    Emily doesn’t know what that means and it seems odd because she’s pretty sure cats don’t like water, but she quickly responds, “I’d love to!” She can’t wait. And it will make her mother happy.
    After that day, the summer slides by like honey, full of lazy sunshine, blue water, good friends. Some days Emily sails and afterward cruises town with Tiffany. Sometimes, especially on rainy or windy days, Emily tours the whaling museum and the Maria Mitchellhouse. If she has time, late in the day, she runs over to the McIntyres’ to see Maggie, but Maggie is often babysitting.
    In the middle of August, Tiffany’s family leaves the island and Emily goes to Maggie’s every day.
    One morning, Cara comes into Emily’s bedroom, her long tanned legs flashing against her tennis skirt. Emily has dutifully made her bed and put away her nightgown. Now she’s sitting on the floor, buckling her sandals, in a hurry to run to Maggie’s.
    Cara sinks down on the white chaise longue next to the window overlooking the ocean. Emily hardly ever sits there—it’s white ! But now her mother pats the cushion next to her.
    “Sweetie, come sit with me a moment,” Cara invites.
    Pleased and wary, Emily sits. Her mother’s perfume, citrusy, intense, envelops Emily.
    “What are you doing this morning?”
    “I’m going to the beach with Maggie.”
    “I thought so.” Cara takes Emily’s smaller hand in hers and runs her fingers up and down meditatively. “Darling, Daddy and I wish you wouldn’t become involved with the