Skin Deep

85

“I love your hair.”

Aaron Monks opened the door to the black BMW to let Dana inside. He had arrived at three o’clock that Saturday dressed in cream—chinos, windbreaker, matching shirt, light shoes. Because it was a cool afternoon, Dana had on slacks and carried a fleece-lined jacket and cap for the ride.

Aaron drove them to the marina where Cho and Pierre met them on the Fair Lady. She joked about her being his own Eliza Doolittle.

“Yes,” he said, and chuckled politely.

The harbor was overcast, so they sat in the aft salon where Aaron put out some appetizers and a bucket of champagne. The cabin doors were left open for the view.

Aaron was particularly animated, like a kid on an outing. He made small talk. He did ask if she had kept her promise not to reveal their date, and she had. Not even Lanie knew. Especially Lanie who would have told everybody in greater Boston, probably called the News Seven hotline. So she wouldn’t have to make something up, she had turned off her cell phone.

They took their drinks as the boat pulled into the harbor. Dana loved the Boston skyline, which looked like a miniature in shades of gray against the dark clouds. She hoped it wouldn’t rain. Aaron said it was not in the forecast. In fact it was only a passing cold front and clear all the way down the eastern seaboard. He’d be heading that way the next day for Martinique.

The boat moved south toward Cape Cod at a high speed. It was a very powerful boat that made for an exhilarating ride.

In about an hour they passed Plymouth Harbor where the Mayflower had landed. But instead of heading northeast toward the lower Cape, Pierre put the boat on a course toward the canal. He cut the speed and they passed under the Sagamore Bridge, then the Bourne Bridge, and out to open water, passing Falmouth and Woods Hole on the right. Aaron kept up a running commentary about some of the places they were passing.

At a couple of points on the trip Dana asked where they were going. Each time Aaron acted mysterious, saying “You’ll see.”

They passed a series of islands in the Elizabeth chain. Aaron pointed out Naushon and several smaller ones all owned by the Forbes family. Then they passed Pasque Island, which was covered mostly by poison ivy, and Penikese where a reform school was located. Then Cuttyhunk, which was open to the public. To the east lay Martha’s Vineyard, its lights twinkling like fireflies against the clouds. They continued westward toward a low-lying hump that emerged from the surface like the back of some prodigious sea creature.

“Homer’s Island,” he said. “Known as the exclamation point at the end of the Elizabeth chain.”

“What’s there?”

“Vita Nova. A place I’ve leased.”

As they grew closer, Dana made out lights of the harbor and buildings along the ridge beyond. They continued along the northern flank where large gracious estates hugged the bluffs.

After several minutes, they pulled into Buck’s Cove above which Aaron pointed to Vita Nova, a large dark mansion that sat high on a bluff overlooking the U-shaped cove and the large dock where they tied up. At the end of the dock was a wooden staircase that led up to the house. Except for a small dinghy, no other boats were in dock and none moored in the cove.

“Where are your friends?”

“They’re already here.”

“Oh, island residents.”

“Some are, and others will arrive by ferry on the other side. Cars aren’t allowed on the island, so everybody gets around by golf-cart taxis. It’s quite charming.”

“But I thought you’d said there’s only one ferry a day that comes in the morning.”

“They’re coming by private ferry.”

“Oh.”