Heat Wave (18 page)

She wanted to put her mouth there.

She wanted to lick the spot on his neck where sweat sparkled, just where his wavy brown hair ended.

Cisco turned. “Mom, you should come look at this!”

Carley flinched at her daughter’s sudden gaze, as if Cisco could see her thoughts.

“Oh, okay,” Carley answered, hoping her voice sounded normal. The boat wasn’t moving, but she trembled as she stood up.

She crossed the few steps and, taking care not to touch Wyatt, leaned over to see the GPS. “Cool,” she said, although her heart was fluttering in her chest and she could hardly see.

A fog drifted toward them from over the water as it often did at the end of the day.

“We’d better go on in,” Wyatt told them.

Carley quickly resumed her seat.

They finished the sail, Wyatt concentrating on navigating through the sandbars and eelgrass into the harbor.

“Mom, look!” Cisco said, sitting next to Carley and pointing upward.

Carley looked. Long feathery cirrus clouds floated in the blue sky, their tips tinged pale pink by the sun.

“It looks like heaven up there, doesn’t it?” Cisco asked.

Margaret scrambled onto Carley’s lap. “Is Daddy up there, maybe?”

Carley nestled her chin into her daughter’s hair. Margaret
smelled like sunblock, sunshine, and sugar. “I think he is, sweetheart.”

Carley set her girls about various tasks, picking up any papers, handing the coolers and beach bags down to the rowboat, unzipping the life jackets and stowing them in the cabin. She was uncomfortably aware of Wyatt’s every move. She pulled on her shirt and felt less vulnerable to her raging thoughts. As they lugged their gear to his convertible and dropped their beach bags into the trunk, Carley’s arm brushed Wyatt’s. Once again she experienced a flash of lust so powerful it took her breath away. She couldn’t help it. She looked at Wyatt to see if he felt it, too.

Wyatt’s sunglasses and cap shaded his face, but his jaw was clenched and he averted his face quickly, pretending to search the ground around them.

“Anything else for the trunk?” he asked. His voice was hoarse.

He feels it, too
, Carley thought. At the same time, she thought,
Oh, stop this, you nutcase
.

They drove home along Madaket Road, with music soaring over them, making conversation impossible. At the house, she forced herself to look at Wyatt, because she would naturally look at him.

“Wyatt,
thank you
for this fabulous day.”

Wyatt was already out of the car. He reached in and lifted Margaret out.

“Yay, Wyatt, thank you!” Margaret said, hugging him. Cisco climbed out. “Thank you, Wyatt.”

They gathered around the trunk once more to collect their beach bags.

“Wyatt,” Carley heard herself say, as if she were a puppet being operated by a maniac, “would you like to come in? Stay for dinner?”

Wyatt didn’t look at her. “Thanks, Carley. Another time. I’ve got plans for tonight.”

Carley felt herself flush all over with humiliation.
Of course
he had plans for tonight! He was dating Angie Matthews! A little sun and fresh air had transformed Carley into a pathetic old widowed
slut! Here he had been innocently trying to give his best friend’s daughters a pleasant day and Carley had turned it into some sick sex fantasy.

“Oh, right, well, have fun tonight, and tell Angie hello for me, and thanks again, Wyatt!” she babbled. “Come on, girls, into the shower first of all.” She ushered her girls up the walk toward the house. She didn’t look back. She heard Wyatt start the car and drive away.

• • • • •

R
ain streamed down steadily for the second day in a row. The sky, the air, everything was gray, wet, and steaming in the early August heat. Making beds and laying out fresh towels in the guest rooms gave Carley a few moments’ comfort in the air-conditioned rooms, though at the same time she fretted at the thought of her electric bill. She considered turning the air conditioners off—all the guests had left for the day—but decided against it. When they returned to their rooms, they would want instant relief from the humidity in the cool, dry air. And they were paying for it.

She lugged a basket of towels to the laundry room. She transferred a pile of soggy clothing to the dryer and filled the washing machine. She folded the dry clothes, sorting as she went through them. Tomorrow the girls were leaving for a week with their grandparents in New York. They were flying by themselves from Nantucket to New York, where Marilyn and Keith would meet them, and Carley was tied in knots of anxiety about the trip. Of course the girls would be okay. The flight was nonstop. In July, Cisco had had a birthday, and now she was
thirteen
, and she had vowed to be sweet as pie to her little sister. She would be, too, Carley was sure of that. They would be in the air less than an hour. Cisco had a cell phone. Marilyn and Keith had cell phones. The girls would be
fine
.

“Here you are!” a woman said.

Carley jumped. “Maud! You surprised me.”

“I called your name. Where are the girls?”

“With Annabel and Russell. They spent the night over there because tomorrow they’re going to fly down to visit their other grandparents.”

“Good. I haven’t had a good long chat with you in forever! Carley, how are you?”

Carley stared at Maud, who wore shorts, a sequined little peasant shirt, and rhinestone-adorned sandals. Carley was suddenly aware of her limp hair, sweaty work clothes, and especially of the sneakers she wore because they gave her support when she was doing housework. More than that, Maud looked so damned happy and healthy,
glowing
, as if her body was radiating some kind of aura that only happened when one was madly in love.

When one was madly loved.

“Busy.”
Carley knew she sounded petulant.

Maud tsked. “You can stop for a cup of coffee. Sit down. I’ll make it. With ice and cream and some chocolate sprinkled on top.”

“Mmm.” Carley had to admit she could use some of that. She followed Maud into the kitchen, which Maud knew as well as her own.

“Put your feet up,” Maud ordered.

“There’s some fairly fresh coffee in the—”

“And ice in the freezer, right? I think I can figure it out.”

Carley grinned. Relaxing, she stretched. “How are you, Maud?”

“Happy. Crazy busy.” Maud took down two tall glasses. She fished cubes out of the ice container in the freezer and dropped them into the glasses. “Honestly, I’d forgotten how much I hate August. The traffic is a snarl, the grocery store parking lot is
impossible
, and the boys are wild with energy. And I’ve got a ton of book stuff to do.”

“How’s Toby?”

“Don’t ask.” Maud poured coffee over the ice cubes. Returning to the refrigerator, she searched out the cream and added it to the coffee, then added sugar, real sugar.

“Why not?”

“Well, because there are about a million more people here in August and the hospital’s crowded and his practice is overloaded. He comes home exhausted.” Stretching to find the chocolate in Carley’s cupboard, she continued, dreamily, “Well, not
too
exhausted. We have to wait until the boys are in bed, of course, and then we have to be quiet, even though we’re in a wing at the other end of the house.” She took the grater out of a drawer, shaved off tiny flakes of chocolate, and sprinkled them on top of the coffee. “There.” She set a glass in front of Carley and sank into a chair.

“This is delicious. Just what I need. Thanks.” Carley held the cold glass to her forehead for a moment. It was weird to hear about Vanessa’s ex-husband with Maud.

“You’re welcome. But it’s not just sex, Carley, it’s everything. He’s so helpful. He
fixes
things, he owns his own hammer! You should see our garage, it’s turning into a workshop, and he has the boys ‘help’ him. He’s made one wall into a tool area. ‘Hand me the wrench,’ he’ll say to Spenser, and Spenser will find it in the big box of tools Toby brought over, and he’ll hold it steady while Percy draws the outline around it. So the boys are learning
guy
things, like the names of tools.” Maud was radiant.

“I’m so glad, Maud,” Carley said, and she really was. Spenser and Percy needed a man in their lives.

“Last week? The boys had taken their showers, and they came into the living room to say good night and Percy said, ‘Mommy, the end of my penis hurts,’ and I almost collapsed with fright. I thought he had some rare horrible penis disease.” Seeing Carley’s face, she held up her hand. “Don’t laugh! Do I have a penis? Before I could freak out, Toby said, ‘Percy, go to the bathroom and pee. Sometimes soap gets up inside and irritates your skin.’ And Percy peed, and everything was okay!
How
even with my genius imagination, could I have ever known about
that
?”

“Good for you, Maud. Good for the boys.”

“Good for Toby, too. He loves the boys. Seriously. He gives them piggyback rides to bed, and roughhouses with them and reads them stories at night. He loves being a father. We’re all so truly happy together.”
Maud sipped her coffee. “Okay. Enough about me. Tell me about you. How are you doing?”

The concern in Maud’s voice was a balm. “I think I’m okay. August is overwhelming me, too. I had no idea how much work it would be to run a little B&B. Not just the physical stuff of cleaning and cooking, but the paperwork. Tax forms and credit card rules and keeping records. Oh, it makes my head hurt. But it keeps me from fretting about Gus. I mean, I think of him all the time, but I can’t
mope
.”

“And the girls?”

“They’re doing all right, I think. Cisco’s seeing a counselor, not that she ever tells me about her sessions. Lauren is teaching her to ride, and Cis loves it. She seems to be transferring her ballet obsession over to horses. She’s even hinting about having her own horse. Lauren would board it—”

“Oh, God, Carley,
I
should do that!”

“Do what? Board horses?”

“No, help with your kids. Look, whenever Cisco goes out to Lauren’s to ride, drop Margaret over at my house. She can play with the boys. Maybe she’ll even civilize them.”

“That would be great, Maud. Thanks. The girls will be gone for a week, but when they get back, I’ll do it.”

“Good.” Maud cocked her head. “Do you ever think about men, Carley?”

“Gus hasn’t been dead for even a year, Maud.”

“It’s been eight months. Plus, you thought about men when he was alive. We all did.”

“We fantasized about movie stars. That’s different from ‘thinking about men.’ ” Carley lifted her glass to her lips, hoping to hide the flush she felt stain her cheeks. “I don’t have time to think about men or sex or dating or anything like that.”

“You’re going to have an empty house for a week.”

“Hardly. I have all three rooms solidly booked.”

“I mean your girls will be gone. You’ll have privacy.”

“You think I should wander down to a bar and pick up a stranger and bring him home?”

“Might not be the worst thing you could do for yourself.” Maud leaned forward. “Carley, you used to be
different.
”

“Of course I was!” Carley shot back. “I wasn’t a widow!”

“No, even before Gus died, you had kind of
lost
something. A sparkle. An exuberance.”

Defensively, Carley snapped, “Not everyone can vamp around like Angelina Jolie, stealing another woman’s man!”

Maud recoiled. “Vanessa’s the one who looks like Angelina Jolie.”

For a while they sat in silence.

Carley gave in first. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”

“I’m sure you didn’t,” Maud told her. “You were only reacting. Still, I think I hit a nerve.”

Carley squirmed. “Maud, of course I ‘lost my sparkle.’ Gus was depressed. He was totally fixated on money. He’d made bad investments, and then he made
more
bad investments. He gambled and lost the girls’ college funds. Our savings are gone. He even borrowed money from Wyatt.”

“Oh, honey, what a mess. Listen, I didn’t mean to be criticizing you.” Maud leaned forward and took Carley’s hand. “Carley, listen. Gus is dead. You are not. You are still young. You are a
babe
. You’ve been working like a trouper for months, getting the B&B ready and running it. That’s all good. But you need to think about yourself. You’re developing these
lines
around your mouth—”

“Oh, thank you very much!” Carley pulled her hand away.

“
Someone
should tell you,” Maud insisted. “This is how you look these days.” She pressed her lips together tightly. “Like an old farm woman who has to plow with a mule.”

Carley didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the image. “Well, that’s just awful!”

“I’m telling you because it’s totally
not
the Carley we know and love!” Maud’s blue eyes were earnest. “You can change! Sweetie, you deserve to be
happy
. You deserve all the good things in life. Lots and lots of delicious sex, too. You don’t have to be a saint.”

“Maud, I’m glad you’re concerned. I hear what you’re saying. I
don’t want to look like an old farm woman, but at this point in my life I don’t feel—emotionally open. I think I’m actually doing fairly well, all things considered.”

“You are, you really are. I’m proud of you. It’s just time you got on with your life.”

Carley bowed her head. “I don’t want to do anything wrong.”

Maud squinted at Carley. “Are you worried about the girls? They might freak if you dated some man?”

Carley squirmed. “I think Cisco might. We’re going through a tough phase these days.”

“Cisco is a teenager. She blamed you because she couldn’t be a ballerina. She’s going to spend the next five years blaming you for everything that goes wrong with her. That’s what kids do. But think about this, Carley, you need to be a role model to your girls.”

“I know that! I’m certainly trying my best!”

“No one could be better. But a role model successfully takes care of her own needs, too. You get to have a life of your own.”

“I have a life of my own,” Carley argued.