Introduction

“I could never be a good father because I turned my back on being your son.” Perhaps Teddy Mathison is right when he makes this heart-wrenching confession to his dying mother, but is it really too late? The touching and surprising answer unfolds in this richly layered, tender story of a man who is primed to go far in life, but first must find his way home.

Teddy is a successful Los Angeles lawyer whose charm and formidable political skills have made him the leading candidate in the race to become the new U.S. senator from California. But behind the golden public persona lie some darker truths: his teenage daughter, Zoe, has barely spoken to him since his divorce from her mother and he has long been bitterly estranged from his own mother, a world-renowned painter. So when his sister asks Teddy to come back to Nantucket to spend some time with their ailing mother before Alzheimer’s steals her mind entirely, Teddy balks. But his campaign manager sees the perfect opportunity for a mother-son photo op that will jack up his weak family values poll numbers, and Teddy reluctantly agrees to the trip.

Once on Nantucket, Teddy is forced to confront feelings he’d long repressed. As he struggles with his mother’s illness and his daughter’s disdain, he learns some stunning truths—about the father he once
idolized and the shocking extent of his daughter’s pain. And when he meets a woman who challenges everything he thought he understood about relationships, he unexpectedly finds the life he never knew he wanted.

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Excerpt

The old woman stirred, slowly awakened, and looked at

him. There was a quizzical look on her face and she closed and opened her eyes several times like the lens of a camera being brought into focus.

“It’s me, Mom, Teddy,” he whispered, his voice gentle and

boyish. There was a quivering within him that he was having

trouble controlling. For all his anger, it was pitiful to see a force of nature reduced to this.

“I’ve got Zoe with me. Your granddaughter? I never wanted

her to know you at all and now this is how she’ll meet you,” he lamented, his voice catching in his throat.

A light flickered in her irises before steadying. Kate appeared to transform before his eyes. Then, out of her mouth came the unmistakable cadence of a Boston Brahmin.

“Well, well,” Kate said. “Look who’s finally come home.”

Taken aback, Teddy stared into the weathered yet alert face

of his mother. “You—you know me? I—I thought . . .”

“Of course I know you.” Kate tsked. “Goodness. You don’t

show your face for years and all you can do is stutter? Pull yourself together and stand in front of me. Let me get a good look at you.”

Off balance, Teddy found himself obeying. Standing there,

letting her look him over, he felt awkward, like a child. It appeared that despite the loss of her once natural beauty, his mother was alive and well and as forceful as ever.

“You’re older,” she noted bluntly. “Well, it can’t be helped. Look at me,” she said, shaking her head. “The gods have not been kind, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Well, actually . . . ,” Teddy began.

“Don’t say anything. That’s a rhetorical question.”

Teddy eyed his mother suspiciously. Where was the

Alzheimer’s Joanna carried on about? This woman seemed as

sharp as a tack and as utterly dismissive as ever.

“You have a lot of explaining to do but we’ll leave that for now,” Kate declared, trying to get up but letting out a groan of pain instead. “My body is rebelling. It won’t listen to me.”

Shaking his head, Teddy marveled that nothing had

changed in his absence. Seventeen years had gone by since he’d graduated from Harvard and left the East Coast. In that time he’d been back exactly once, to pick up some of his personal belongings and try a rapprochement at Joanna’s urging.

“But the biggest betrayal, the one I cannot forgive, is my

hands. They just don’t work, Teddy. My mind can’t seem to

make them. Now that is intolerable.” Kate stuck out her arm. “Well?” she barked, her eyes on her son. “Are you going to help me or stand there staring like some lost schoolboy?”

Teddy winced. It was comments like that one that had once

driven him crazy. It wasn’t the reason he had walked out of her life, but her brusqueness had made it easier. He stepped forward grudgingly and helped her to her feet. Her skin felt like crepe paper and his own body recoiled at the touch of her. Then, suddenly, he felt his mother shudder as she sunk into him.

“Hello,” came the small voice in the doorway.

Steadying his mother, Teddy looked up to find Zoe standing

there, staring intently as if at a ghost.

“Who is this?” Kate demanded as if finding an intruder in

her home.

“This is my daughter,” Teddy said tersely. “Zoe, this is your grandmother, Kate.”

Zoe examined the strange figure before her—the distant

look, the fragile, wrinkled skin, the loose ends of white hair. Who was this woman to her, anyway? Zoe had no memory of her. She took a few tentative steps closer.

“Hello?” Zoe ventured nervously.

“Zoe . . . ,” Teddy cautioned.

“Should I call you Grandma? I call my other grandmother

Grammie.”

The older woman stared back at her sternly. “Here now,”

she said, looking her over, eyes flashing impatiently. “What is it you do?”

“What do I do . . . ?” Zoe repeated.

Teddy saw how his mother was staring at Zoe. He knew that

look, the one that saw right through you. He wanted to move to his daughter and shield her from it but he was stuck there, holding the old woman up. He watched anxiously as a curious Zoe drew closer, studying her grandmother’s face.

“What are you looking at?” Kate asked irritably.

“Katie,” Frank cautioned, appearing in the doorway. “Easy

now. This is your granddaughter, Zoe.”

“My grand . . . ?” Kate blinked. It didn’t register.

Zoe came toward her, opening her arms.

“What is this?” the older woman snapped, withdrawing.

“Don’t put your hands on me.”

“My other grandmother always wants a hug,” Zoe stammered.

“I just thought . . .”

“No,” Kate objected.

“That’s it, Mother,” Teddy barked as he managed to park

her down on the chair. “I won’t have you behaving that way to my daughter.”

Something in the older woman seemed to deflate. Kate suddenly appeared lost. “Who?” She gazed up at Zoe, then at her son, frightened. “You’re my . . . I’m—” She broke off, her voice faltering.

“What’s going on?” Teddy demanded, turning to Frank.

“What just happened?”

“It’s the Alzheimer’s,” Frank sadly explained as he crossed

the studio, pulling an afghan over Kate. “She goes in and out like the tide.”

Zoe stared at the strange woman she was supposed to be

related to. This “grandmother” had just rejected her and then weirdly morphed into some kind of lost child. Hurt and confused, she turned on her father. “Why did you have to bring me here?” she blurted, then ran from the room.

Teddy watched her go, his body coursing with emotion. His

icy heart had cracked at the sight of his mother in ruin. He wanted to reach out to his troubled daughter but was responsible for triggering an even greater abyss, managing to disappoint her once again.

Turning back, Teddy gazed at the helpless, tentative figure

who had been his mother but a moment ago. It was like something out of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. He had the sudden urge to contact his campaign staff, answer a few e-mails, anything to take his head out of this place.

“It’s the light that makes them dance,” Kate suddenly called out as she stared at her unfinished painting. Teddy shook his head. What was she talking about?

“It’s the light . . . it makes them . . .” Her voice faltered and faded away.

Who had pulled the plug on this woman’s mind? My God,

she didn’t need him there, he told himself. What was he supposed to do for her, anyway? Still, observing her retreat into herself held him spellbound, like coming upon an accident and being repelled but unable to turn away.

A sudden memory pried loose from its vault. It was after the first art lesson she’d given him. He was six, maybe seven. He’d become so frustrated at not being able to make his brush do what he wanted that he had stuck his hand in the paint and placed its imprint smack in the middle of the canvas, declaring, “Me!” He had waited, expecting his mother’s disapproval. Instead, she burst into a cheer and swooped him up in her arms. “You,” she acknowledged, swinging him so hard he thought he’d fly right through the window. Her response had scared and thrilled him and made him feel suddenly important.

Pushing the memory away, Teddy cursed his sister for forcing this trip on him and, turning, strode from the studio.

11

Teddy shot up in bed, drenched in sweat, a bad dream lapping at the edges of his consciousness.

Rubbing his forehead, he checked the time—five A.M. He

caught his breath, then reached automatically for his cell to retrieve messages. But the signal inside the house was too weak. He had to get a paper, turn on the news, find out what was happening back in California. He got up and checked on Zoe down the hall. Gently pushing the door open, he was relieved to find her under the covers. It had taken him an hour and a phone call to Miranda to calm her down after her encounter with her grandmother.

He had promised both of them he would find something

fun for Zoe to do away from the house for the few days they

would be there.

A jarring clatter caught his attention. He closed Zoe’s door and listened as the nagging rattle persisted, punctuated by a few seconds of silence before it struck again. Irritated, Teddy made

his way down the hall. The sound appeared to be coming from his mother’s bedroom. The door was ajar. He thought about retreating but the noise was only growing louder. Shaking his head, Teddy gritted his teeth and pushed the door open farther.

Peering in, Teddy made out Kate’s face illuminated by the

small night-light next to the bed. She was still asleep. How could she manage with the din going on in her room? The rattling struck again and Teddy crossed over to the window for inspection. He could see now that the shutter on the left had broken off from the side of the house and was banging away in the wind coming off the ocean. Teddy awkwardly removed the screen and reached out, grabbing hold of the errant shutter. As he grappled with it in an

attempt to hook it back into place, it tore from its sole mooring and fell away from his hand to the ground below.

“Damn place is falling apart,” he muttered, staring down at

the shutter, which had broken into pieces upon impact. Jerking his head back, he bumped it hard on the window frame. A sharp pain shot through him.

“Shit!” he cried out.

“Who is it? Who’s there?” demanded a startled voice.

Rubbing the back of his head, Teddy twisted around to face

his mother, who was now sitting up in bed.

“You had a broken shutter,” he muttered. “I was trying to fix it. It’s all right. Go back to bed.” He picked himself up, nearly tripping

over the window screen he’d put on the floor moments earlier.

“I don’t need anyone making a racket like that in the middle of the night,” Kate snapped.

Teddy held his tongue as the long-buried animosity flooded

his brain. This was the same way she’d treated his father. No wonder the man stayed away for weeks at a time. Or that he turned to alcohol to escape her harangues. Teddy wanted to make his own escape. If he left now, Joanna couldn’t possibly go to the press. He had proof he’d been there to visit. His mind raced. Get out, it said. You don’t need this, it pleaded. He turned to leave.

“I’m not sure,” came a frail voice he didn’t recognize. “Did you just help me?”

Teddy held his breath.

“I’m sorry I can’t . . . ,” she struggled. “Did you just . . . ?”

“Yes, Mother,” Teddy finally answered, not looking back

at her.

“I thought so.” She sighed, tremulous. “That was sweet of

you. You’re a good boy.”

Head reeling, Teddy thought he’d keel over. He couldn’t

remember the last time she’d spoken to him like that, so soft and caring. It had to have been before his father’s death, of that he was sure. It was as if someone else had suddenly taken possession of her body. As if a hidden force were changing channels in her head. Could the Alzheimer’s really be doing that? Could it really

tame the devil in a person?

As much as he wanted to leave the room, Teddy couldn’t

help turning around to look at his mother. She was illuminated by the moonlight. Her head was resting on the pillow; she lay there, still. It was unsettling to find her smiling at him. Her face showed no vestiges of disease, just the lines and wrinkles of life’s road map. Teddy couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was suddenly

gentle-looking, beautiful in her own way, the sting drawn out of her.

As he continued to glance down at the bed, fixated, another

memory jumped out at him. He was five, Joanna seven. With

his dad back in the city during the midweek summer days,

Kate would allow them a once-a-week pajama night. They’d eat popcorn and she would tell them stories about magical sea creatures and kingdoms of incredible beauty under the ocean’s surface. What had happened to that woman? He felt breathless. The sudden recollection was painful, disconcerting, and totally unexpected.

His mother’s eyes were now gazing up at the ceiling and he

detected they were out of focus. She appeared to be lost in her own bed. The sight of her like this was nearly unbearable. She remained, after all these years, a mystery to him. More unwanted memories were jarring loose within him, and he angrily fought to push them away. Teddy turned and quickly retreated from the room.

Racing up the stairs to the attic, Teddy threw open the roof door and walked out onto the rail-enclosed lookout. Many homes in Nantucket had these modest roofwalks, or “widow’s walks.” The wives of the whaler captains, once the aristocracy of what was then the world’s greatest whaling port, had spent endless evenings staring out to sea, wondering if their men would ever come home. Teddy clasped the railings as he had when he was young. He closed his eyes and took in the salty smell, a breeze coming off the ocean whipping at his hair.

When the first light of dawn emerged out of the east, Teddy

gazed up at the fog hanging overhead. It had been Frank who’d told him how sailors passing the island a hundred years earlier and noting the persistent haze had dubbed Nantucket “the Gray Lady.”

His heart was still pounding from the second encounter

with his mother as he turned northward, scanning the vast natural reserve that made up so much of the island. He could make out the gentle waters of Sesachacha Pond, separated from the ocean by a narrow strand on its east side. Beyond that stretched the shingled roofs of beach houses that made up the tiny hamlet of Quidnet.

Teddy noticed that the blanket of fog was moving. As he followed its billowing progress, it struck him that the gray mass was like his mother’s mind. She, like the island, was disentangling from the world. He smiled grimly at the thought that his mother, the possessor and wielder of color, was becoming the Gray Lady. He had a guilty suspicion that had the Alzheimer’s struck earlier he might have been able to stand her all these years.

Teddy turned to the east where the sun poked its head

through the fog. He thought of the campaign going on without him on the other coast. Judith was no doubt spinning his absence as a mark of his deep concern for family. Inside the house were two women to whom he was related and yet both were strangers to him. Teddy rested his head in his hands. What family? view abbreviated excerpt only...

Discussion Questions

From the Author:

Discussion Questions for THE PRINCE OF NANTUCKET

1. At the opening of the novel, Judith tells Teddy that he wasn’t made for relationships. What do we learn about him early on that would give this statement validity?

2. How does Zoe view her father? What do you feel adolescent girls want most in a father?

3. At the Even Keel café on Nantucket, Zoe sets up rules for Teddy regarding women. What are they? What do these rules say, if anything, about how Zoe might want to be treated?

4. Teddy blames his mother for some terrible act that altered his life. And yet, it gradually becomes evident that he admires her for several traits. What are they and why are they important to Teddy?

5. We come to see that the old family friend and caretaker, Frank, has an unrequited love. What advice does this cause him to give Teddy? There are other characters in the novel who possess love that has gone unrequited, as well as parts of themselves that have gone unfulfilled. Identify them and discuss what those unrequited or unfulfilled aspects are for each character.

6. How does Zoe express her pain? What other ways do people, young and old, use to express or bury that in life that most hurts them?

7. Why do you feel the author set this story on an island?
Are there other kinds of islands in this novel?

8. Within this story, art plays a major role in healing and expressing one’s identity. The author’s own mother was a poet who, at the end of her life, suffered from Alzheimer’s. He has said that he and other family members were able to communicate with her through the use of poetry. What was there about art that allowed Teddy to “unlock” Kate’s memory? Do you feel art, and other forms of creative expression, might “unlock” parts of ourselves we don’t normally reach? Discuss how this could be applied to your life or the lives of those you love.

9. Kate initially becomes frustrated in trying to once again paint under teddy’s guidance. What does her “handprint” signify to her and to Teddy? Imagine you are Teddy watching his mother paint again. Describe your emotions.


10. Liza has, herself, experienced tragedy. What does she say one must do with that pain in order to move on? Discuss the ways in which you or those you love have moved through difficult or tragic times. What or who helped you? What do you do with the pain?

11. Zoe takes a photograph that stuns Teddy when Liza shows it to him. What was the subject of the photo and what did it tell Teddy about the way his daughter sees herself?

12. Clearly, Zoe was keeping a secret from her parents. Would your child or grandchild be able to keep such a secret from you? What do we hide from those we love and why do we do it?

13. Gradually, the campaign back in California diminishes in importance in Teddy’s eyes, replaced by concerns about the three women he is dealing with on Nantucket. Discuss how each of these female characters alters him in some way. Are there women (or men) who have changed the way in which you see yourself and the world?

14. Why did Kate keep such a secret from Teddy? How did learning the truth change his view of his father and mother? How does he create a second chance for he and his mother? Discuss the importance of second chances in your own life and that of those you are close to.

15. Do you agree with Liza’s assessment that the Teddy we come to know at the end of the story would make a very different candidate should he ever decide to run again? How so?

16. The author has said he wanted to depict a character “rediscovering the artist in himself.” Do you believe there is an artist (however you interpret that) inside each of us?

17. What emotions does Kate’s final request of her son generate in you? How would you have responded?

18. Discuss Teddy’s decision in regards to his mother’s stunning last request and contrast his willingness to give up control and allow his mother her own choice. What is the author saying about love in this final act?



The author would love the opportunity to discuss these questions and other topics that grow out of reading THE PRINCE OF NANTUCKET. Please feel free to contact him on his author site, www.JanGoldstein.com,
and schedule a thirty-minute phone interview for your book club or discussion group.

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