4. First Light I
Because it faces northeast, Squam is the best place on the island to watch the sunrise. Hollis carries her coffee out to the deck with Henrietta at her heels, and together they feast on the view—the pond, the footbridge, the sandy path that leads through the dunes to the navy-blue stripe of the Atlantic Ocean.
She and Matthew named the house First Light.
What are Hollis’s favorite things about the house? The slender windows flanking the front door are inlaid with pieces of actual sea glass in every shade of blue and green. The cathedral-ceilinged great room is white and bright with blond wood beams and trim, but there are surprises too—the blue- moon couch, a comfy semicircle of deep cerulean suede, between shamrock- green lounging chairs that face the glass doors. Leather stools surround the kitchen island—there’s plenty of room for Hollis to cook while entertaining —and over the island hangs a chandelier made from vintage Coca-Cola bottles. A chaise upholstered in the palest blue silk is positioned in front of the white brick fireplace. Mom’s throne, Caroline calls it, because that’s where Hollis would spend every waking moment if she could—on the chaise with a book (though recently, book has meant “laptop”). In the summer, she keeps the front and back doors open so the breeze can blow through the house, and in the fall and winter, the fire is always lit. Coffee on the side table in the mornings; a glass of cold, crisp sauvignon blanc in the evenings.
Hollis and Matthew turned the original cottage into a charming guesthouse decked out with curvy, colorful midcentury furnishings. They named the cottage the Twist. (The observant guests figure out why.) Next to the Twist is a two-car garage that shelters Hollis’s Volvo and Matthew’s “baby,” a strawberry-red 1971 convertible Bronco that’s perennially filled with sand no matter how often Hollis vacuums it.
Hollis decides to put Tatum in the Fifty Shades of White suite across the hall from her room and next to Caroline’s. She’ll put Brooke in the Board Room and Gigi in her favorite space in the house, Hibiscus Heaven—both of
these suites are on the far side of the living area. Dru-Ann can have the Twist to herself.
“This is happening, girlfriend,” Hollis says to Henrietta. “Everyone arrives tomorrow.”
Henrietta vibrates with excitement as though she understands. Henny will be happy; as the saying goes, she has never met a stranger.
“Caroline is coming,” Hollis says. There was a moment when Hollis questioned whether it was wise to include Caroline—Hollis was afraid of rejection; she was worried that once she offered the money, it would sound like she had to bribe her own daughter to visit; and she isn’t at all sure that any of what happens this weekend should be filmed—but now that Caroline has agreed to come, Hollis is optimistic. She and Caroline will be together and there will be other people around to make things less awkward.
Hollis flips open her laptop, goes to the Hungry with Hollis website, and clicks on the Corkboard. To the Hungry with Hollis community: The past seven months have been harrowing… Hollis deletes harrowing and writes dismal, then she deletes that as well.
Both words are accurate, as are lonely, bleak, and plain old sad, but she doesn’t want to be a Debbie Downer, nor does she want to make a big deal about her return; she just wants to move forward.
Hollis takes a breath, then types: I want to thank you all for your thoughts, prayers, and condolences and for the stories you’ve been kind enough to share with me. Knowing that your Kitchen Lights were still on here at Hungry with Hollis pulled me through some very dark days. Today I write to you with some more hopeful news. I’m hosting something called a Five-Star Weekend at my home on Nantucket. Let me tell you all about it.
