Reunion Beach Elin Hilderbrand (best selling autobiographies .TXT) 📖

Joey had been a couple first! “I’m grateful you’re here. And the kids . . .” The kids had been ecstatic when they saw their uncle, all thoughts of experiments and puzzles abandoned. They had launched themselves into Joey’s arms like little rockets. Joey was God, Santa Claus, and Jim Rice rolled into one.

“I love those kids like they’re my own,” Joey said.

And me? Blair wanted to ask. Do you love me like I’m your own? Joey is still a bachelor, still working in advertising. He’s the head of the national campaign for Stouffer’s, so he travels the country and eats a lot of French bread pizza. The pay is good and he has no one to support but himself—hence, the Porsche, and a summer place in Newport.

“Well, Blair,” Joey said, sliding down into the leather bucket seat of the Porsche. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Tomorrow meant church, family, obligation. It seemed like Joey was going to leave without so much as a good-night kiss. Was Blair going to let that happen?

Blair ran a finger along the racing stripe. “This car is foxy,” she said. “How fast does it go?”

Joey hadn’t hesitated, even for a second. “Get in,” he said. “I’ll show you.”

They’d ended up zipping down the Madaket Road then careening along Cliff before they stopped to make out at the end of Hinckley Lane. It might have gone even further, Blair might have let Joey have her across the hood or she might have followed him back to his room at the Jared Coffin House, but at the last minute, she suffered a crisis of conscience and stopped him.

“My brother wins again, I see,” Joey said.

“Just think how it will look!” Blair says. “It’ll look scandalous . . . incestuous, even.”

This made Joey laugh. “We aren’t related,” he said.

“I know . . .”

“But you care what people think,” Joey said. “Because you’re just like your mother and your grandmother.”

“I am not,” Blair insisted. “I’m my own woman.”

“If you want to know how it will look, I’ll tell you,” Joey said. “It’ll look like I’ve been crazy for you since the day I met you. It’ll look like I’ve been biding my time until the inevitable happened and you and Angus split. And even then, I’ve let a proper amount of time pass. But now I’m here and I want to make this work.”

Wasn’t that what Blair wanted, too? She had thought of Joey every day since returning to Boston, but she’d been too timid—and yes, too conventional—to consider calling him. Plus, he was impossible to pin down; the only person she could have asked about his whereabouts was . . . Angus. So his appearing on Nantucket was both a surprise and an answer to a longing that Blair was hesitant to admit she’d been holding in her heart.

“Drive me home, please,” Blair said. “I need to think about it.”

NOW, HERE IT IS, a full twenty-four hours later, and Blair has reached a decision. She wants to be with Joey Whalen. Maybe it’s outrageous—dating her ex-husband’s brother—or maybe it happens all the time. Angus won’t be at all surprised and neither will Blair’s family. The children, though—how will Gennie and George feel about their mother dating their uncle—and their uncle, possibly, becoming their stepfather?

Well, they’ll either be thrilled or disgusted. Or, more likely, thrilled one day and disgusted the next. But Blair won’t sacrifice her own happiness for the sake of the children. She reasons that if she’s happy, the children will be happy. This is a modern attitude—her neighbors will say she’s been reading too much Redbook—but come on, it’s 1979, and in six months, it will be 1980!

Blair is going to tell Joey Whalen, yes. Yes, she wants to be with him. She doesn’t care that he lives out of a suitcase. He can spend time at her house in Chestnut Hill; she can take the twins to Newport. It’ll be exciting. Blair will have a family situation that is just as wacky as everyone else at Radcliffe.

Her only problem now is a small one. She has to get rid of Larry. But how? He can’t take a hint!

Kirby approaches out of the darkness. “Anyone here want to smoke some weed?”

Blair says, “I bet Larry does.”

Both Joey and Larry laugh, then Larry clears his throat. “Actually, I’d love to.”

“Dynamite,” Kirby says. She’s wearing an ivory caftan, which in that moment makes her seem like an angel of mercy. “Come on, Larry. Let’s go for a walk.”

Kirby links her arm through Larry’s and they wander away. Blair reaches for Joey’s hand.

“Drive?” he says.

“You must read minds,” she says. “Let’s go.”

7

Life in the Fast Lane

The weed is schwag—Kirby got it from her Spring Street dealer, Pope, whose product is inconsistent—but it hardly matters because Kirby is with Larry Winter! Kirby stole him right out from under Blair’s nose!

It’s a triumph worthy of its own Cosmo column. WHEN DREAMS COME TRUE: HOOKING UP WITH YOUR TEENAGE CRUSH AS A GROWN WOMAN.

Seventeen years earlier, 1962, back when Kennedy was president, Kirby harbored an excruciating crush on Larry Winter, but he had been in love with Blair. Kirby used to babysit Larry’s pain-in-the-ass little sisters and Larry would be saddled with the task of driving Kirby home at the end of the afternoon. Kirby was only fourteen, she wore braces and had acne across her forehead and was every bit the Ugly Duckling. Larry, meanwhile, was a man—seventeen, eighteen—headed to Georgetown to major in political science. He wanted to run for president.

Reports from Mrs. Winter that were relayed to Kirby through Exalta pointed in a different direction. After college, Larry worked as the food and beverage manager at a private club in Vero Beach, Florida.

Kirby won’t lie: it was disappointing to hear this.

But then, recently, Exalta made a point of mentioning that one of the wealthy members of the Vero Beach Club had given Larry seed money and he was opening a nightclub in Key Largo.

A nightclub! That was something Kirby could get behind.

She isn’t at all surprised that