He was starving and went into the kitchen for something, anything, to eat. Pauline, like a housewife from the Depression era, liked to leave the fridge and cupboards all but bare before they went away. In the crisper, Doug found one apple and a few stalks of celery. He bit into the apple and dragged the celery lavishly through a jar of peanut butter that he pulled out of the pantry.
Then he saw it on the kitchen counter, next to the prep sink where Pauline was defrosting a couple of sad-looking lamb chops that were probably going to be their dinner.
The Notebook.
His mouth was sticky with peanut butter, but he let a garbled cry escape: Oh, shit!
The Notebook.
That was it, right? The spiral-bound notebook with the kelly green cover and the word in black Sharpie written in Beth’s handwriting: WEDDING. The notebook itself had probably cost $1.69 at Staples, but it was no less precious than the Magna Carta. That notebook contained all of Beth’s hopes, wishes, and suggestions for Jenna’s wedding. She had written it in the eight months between the time she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer and the time she died. She had written it not to interfere or be prescriptive but because more than anything she wanted Jenna to feel like she had a mother during that time when she most needed a mother.
Beth had filled the notebook hoping that she would be part of the special day, even though she would be gone. She planned the details of Jenna’s wedding even though Jenna had not yet met the man who was to be her husband. Beth had confidence in Jenna. She would meet someone wonderful, and she would want a lavish, traditional wedding.
In the summertime, of course.
At the house on Nantucket, of course.
Their older daughter, Margot, had gotten married to a fellow named Drummond Bain on a cliff in Antigua with just the immediate family in attendance—Doug and Beth, Nick and Kevin, Kevin’s wife, Beanie, and Jenna. From Drum’s side, only the Bain parents had attended because Drum was an only child. That was half the problem with Drum, or maybe that was the whole problem. He had been handed things without having to earn them. Mitchell Bain was a big shot with Sony, always back and forth between New York and Tokyo. He had set up a trust fund for Drum on his twenty-first birthday. The kid had done nothing with his life but surf, ski, and zip carelessly through his money. Why had Margot fallen for him? Doug and Beth had gently expressed their reservations about Drum, but then Margot got pregnant. Doug had been sure Drum would say sayonara and run for the hills. Doug and Beth had actually wished for this to happen; they would help Margot raise the baby themselves. But Drum had done the unthinkable and proposed.
Margot had worn a flowing maternity dress to the ceremony, in a color Beth called “blush.”
Doug remembered lying in bed with Beth after Margot’s wedding. He and Beth, and Drum’s parents, Mitchell and Greta Bain, had heedlessly plowed through six bottles of wine at the reception. Kevin and Nick had pulled Drum off to the bar, and Margot had been left behind with Beanie, who was also pregnant, and Jenna, who had been only sixteen at the time. The three of them sipped sparkling water.
“She looked absolutely miserable tonight,” Beth said.
“I wouldn’t say miserable,” Doug said.
“What word would you use to describe her, then?”
“Resigned,” Doug said.
“Well, that’s perfectly awful!” Beth said. “I wanted more for her. I wanted more than a shotgun wedding, even if it is in the Caribbean.”
“Honey, she loves him.”
“It’ll never last,” Beth said.
Drummond Bain Jr. had been born, and then Carson. When Beth had died, Margot hadn’t been pregnant with Ellie yet. When Beth died, things were still okay between Margot and Drum Sr. But Beth had ended up being right, of course. The marriage didn’t last.
Doug touched the front cover of the Notebook. He opened to the first page. I wish for you a beautiful day, Jenna, my darling. You alone will make it so.
Doug closed the Notebook. The rest of it was filled with information, ruminations, suggestions: Where in the closet to find Beth’s wedding dress should Jenna want to wear it (of course Jenna would wear it) and the names of places to get it dry-cleaned and altered. Which flowers to use, which florist, what hymns were Beth’s favorites, what to say when Jenna called Reverend Marlowe and asked him to perform the ceremony on Nantucket. The Notebook contained menu suggestions and an invitation list and poems Beth had clipped that would make excellent readings. Doug knew there were more than a few “DO NOTS,” such as “Do not, under any circumstances, use Corinthians 13 as a reading. If you use Corinthians 13, you will hear a collective groan.”