Free Nantucket Sisters by Nancy Thayer

put on a scene from Midsummer Night’s Dream . David Lazarus will be in it, I’ve heard.”
    Maggie listens, eyes wide, thrilled.
    “We’ll want a full account of the guests, their clothes, the food, the decorations … this is an extremely special evening, Maggie, and it will provide you the opportunity to show us at Nantucket Glossy what you can do. If you want to do it, that is.”
    “I’ll do it.” Maggie gulps, trying not to sound like she’s just swallowed helium.
    As soon as she puts down the phone, she clicks in Kerrie’s number and talks to her about the article. Kerrie, to her vast relief, has no interest in something so frivolous and is surprised Maggie would consider it.
    “But the galas are to raise money for Nantucket charities,” Maggie stresses. And for me , she adds silently.
    “Please,” Kerrie says. “I’m happy for you. It is so not my cup of tea.”
    “Well, honey, it’s my cup of mead,” Maggie jokes. Next, she calls Tyler, who’s somewhere on the road to the West Coast. “You’ll never guess what just happened!”
    Tyler listens to her babble, tossing in the appropriate “Wow” or “Amazing,” but after a few minutes Maggie can tell he’s not enjoying this conversation.
    “Hey,” she says, “what’s up? Even if you are leaving the island, you’re still my best island friend and I want to share this with you.”
    “Sorry,” Tyler apologizes. “It’s a huge deal. Congratulations. I wish I could see you at the party.”
    Maggie grimaces—glad they’re not on Skype. Marilyn O’Brien told her she could bring a date, but would she want to ask Tyler?
    Before she can speak, Tyler continues, “It’s great, Maggie. Absolutely. It’s like you’re on your way.”
    “I know,” Maggie agrees, twirling in place. “It’s like Fate’s giving me a go-ahead sign.”
    The very next day, another astonishing thing happens.
    After breakfast, Emily arrives on her bike, wearing a bathing suit covered with a long tee shirt.
    “We’re not going to write today,” Maggie tells her. “You’ve got to help me organize myself for my first real writing job!”
    “What? Tell me!” Emily demands.
    When Maggie tells her, Emily screams, hugs her, and then shouts ten thousand questions in one minute.
    “It’s this Friday,” Maggie tells her. “It’s a gala for the Theatre Workshop. Everyone will look so fabulous, and I don’t have anything to wear. I don’t even know what kind of thing to try to find, and I’ll probably have to go to the thrift shop to look for something. Clothes are so expensive here. Would you go shopping with me?”
    “I’ll do better than that,” Emily says. “Come to my house. We’ll find something in my closet for you to wear.”
    Maggie nearly falls over flat on her face. This is the first time Emily has ever invited Maggie to her home. Why would Emily ask her now? Perhaps this gala gig will make Maggie more acceptable to Emily’s snobby parents.
    Before Maggie can speak, Emily rolls her eyes. “I know what you’re thinking. Yes, I’m ten feet tall, but I’m sure we’ll find something that will work on you.” Without waiting, Emily climbs back on her bike. “Come on.”
    Maggie grabs her ten-speed and follows Emily along the bike path to ’Sconset and Emily’s house on the bluff. When she was younger, during long boring winters, Maggie used to sneak around outside the Porters’ house, standing on tiptoes to peek through a crack in the drapes into the rooms inside. Most of the furniture was covered with dust cloths. It was spacious, a symphony of seaside blues and sands. Now she’ll finally get to see Emily’s bedroom. What if Emily’s mother is there? Will she look down her nose at Maggie as she always does?
    When they reach her house, Emily carelessly tosses her bike against the front porch, so Maggie does the same thing.
    “No one’s home,” Emily announces over her shoulder. “Let’s get a Diet Coke before we go up.”
    Maggie