Heat Wave (29 page)

“Have you eaten?” she asked.

“Eggnog and gingerbread during the Stroll.”

“I’ll bring you something a little more substantial.” She handed him the remote control. She knew how helpful TV could be for relaxing, changing moods. She heated a homemade chicken pot pie in the microwave. It was full of white and dark meat, onions, carrots, celery, peas, and gravy, and the pastry was flaky and rich with butter. She set it on a tray with a beer and carried it to him.

“What smells so good?” Wyatt sat up straight, looking with amazement at the food. “Where did you get all this?”

“I made it, silly. We had it for dinner. I just happened to have one left over in case you were hungry.”

“Man, this is just what I need. Real food.” He tucked in, eating like a starving man, not stopping to talk or watch TV.

She sat curled up in a chair across from him, surprised at how she enjoyed the sight of this big man assuaging his hunger with her food.

When he’d finished, he said, “Damn, that was good, Carley. I didn’t even make a pot of coffee this evening at the office. Russell
left things in a hell of a mess. Don’t mention this to anyone, please. I’m sure after he’s had some time off in Guatemala he’ll be back to his old self. Still, I admit I’m a little concerned. He left some tax matters unfinished. Not like him at all. I’m going to have to scramble to get the year-end work completed before I leave for Hawaii.” He looked at her almost shyly. “Did your girls enjoy the Stroll?”

“They loved it. It was extra-special because you were with us, Wyatt. Margaret was over the moon because you rode her on your shoulders.” She’d put a few fresh carrots on his plate, and he’d left one, so she reached over, took it, and chewed on it. Such an easy, intimate thing to do.

“Carley, I’d like to give your girls Christmas presents.”

She sensed how careful he was being with her, not to rush her. She was grateful. “That’s nice, Wyatt.”

“What would they like?”

“Books. They’re crazy readers. I could give you a list.”

“That would be great. Want to have our little Christmas before I leave?”

“Oh.” She thought for a moment. “The twenty-first?” She hadn’t bought him a present yet, but there was still time. “Yes, why not?”

“Good.” He stretched and yawned. “Want to have a little Christmas right now?”

For a moment she was puzzled. Then she got it. The girls were asleep, and all her energies strained to be with this man. She held out her hand. “Yes, please,” she said. They left the den and went, hand in hand, up the stairs to the bedroom.

The morning of December twenty-first, the first sight Carley saw when she woke was beads of snow, like pearls from a broken necklace, spinning past her window. The window itself was shuddering from the impact of the wind. Before she’d raised her head off the pillow, she knew what the day would bring.

A blizzard. A blizzard with gale-force wind was on its way. For
anyone on Nantucket, that meant: if you have to be somewhere else in the next two days, get off the island ASAP. Soon all the planes and boats would be canceled. Nothing could cross the Sound in a gale force wind.

Wyatt phoned while she was fixing breakfast.

“Carley, I’m going to have to leave this morning. I’m going to fly to Hyannis while the planes are still going, take the bus up to Boston, and spent the day there so I can make my plane to Hawaii tomorrow morning.”

“Are you sure the planes are still going?”

“Just checked. The fast ferries are canceled, but the slow boat’s going. But I’d rather be bounced around for fifteen minutes in a plane than two hours on the boat. Look, I’m sorry, I’m going to miss our Christmas party this evening.”

“Don’t worry about it, Wyatt. We can trade presents when you get back. Just get yourself off the island while you can! Have a fabulous time.” Deep inside her, another, passionate voice called:
Don’t go, Wyatt! Stay with us!

Wyatt was in a rush. “Thanks, Carley. I’d better go pack. Wow, listen to the wind. I’ll call you.”

Carley clicked off the phone and stood for a moment, shocked at how disappointed she was that she wouldn’t see him tonight.

• • • • •

B
oth girls, at different times, had emotional meltdowns during the Christmas season. They missed their father. They wanted to buy gifts for him, they wanted him to take them ice skating and sledding. Carley cried with them, held them, and said the most consoling words she could. Yet it was not consolation that staunched their weeping, it was, finally, sheer exhaustion. One night Carley slept in Margaret’s bed, curled around her. One night she slept with Cisco, a rare and restless treat—Cisco kicked like a horse in her dreams.

At her parents’ house over Christmas, most of the time was spent, as always, in a relaxed rambling around, but one afternoon Marilyn and Keith took Cisco and Margaret off to a movie, which allowed Carley time alone with her sister and Sue.

They made hot chocolate and curled up in the living room. Both women wore jeans and turtlenecks adorned with the Christmas necklaces, bracelets, and earrings Cisco and Margaret had created for them from kits. Sarah held her Yorkshire terrier, k.d., in her lap, and Sue held lang. Both dogs slept deeply—they’d enjoyed plenty of Christmas feasting.

“Well, kid,” Sarah said to Carley, “how are you, really?”

Carley hesitated. “Mostly okay, I think. I worry about the girls missing their father. I worry about making decisions without another
adult to help me.” Carley stirred her hot chocolate with her finger. Suddenly she couldn’t restrain herself. “Oh, Sarah, Sue, I really need to talk to someone, I think I’m losing my mind!”

“Why?” Sue asked.

“I think I’m in love with Wyatt Anderson!”

Sarah and Sue stared at her.

“For clarification,” Sue calmly stated, “this is Gus’s best friend?”

“Yes. I’ve been, um, seeing him. For a while. Since August, actually.” Talking about it made something within her wake up, come alive. “Oh, Sarah, Sue, he is totally magnificent! He’s smart and kind and funny. We have the same sense of humor. We talk for hours …”

“And sex?” Sarah asked.

Carley hugged herself. “Sex with Wyatt is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. It is absolutely earth shattering.” She bit her lip. “Am I
awful
?”

Sarah asked, “Were you sleeping with Wyatt when Gus was still alive?”

“No!” Carley sat up straight. “Of course not!”

“Then why would you even wonder if you’re awful? It’s been over a year, Carley.”

“Just barely. And it’s complicated.”

Sarah ordered, “Start from the beginning.”

Carley told them about the week both her children and her in-laws were gone. The summer. The heat that made everyone want to lie around naked. The sense of loneliness and freedom. Maud telling her she looked like an old farm woman. The dress from Moon Shell Beach. The evening at the Boarding House, and Wyatt walking her home. It was
delicious
, talking about it, reliving it.

“All right,” Sarah said calmly when Carley had finished. “Tell us why in the world you think it’s wrong.”

Carley squirmed. “It’s happening too fast. It’s too intense. It doesn’t seem
right
for me to feel this way so soon.”

“Carley.” Sue’s tone was mild, rich with affection and wisdom. “It seems to me that at our age, at your age, we’ve seen enough life
to know that if fate offers us a chance of happiness, we should take it. Look,” Sue pressed, leaning forward, “every day at the hospital, Sarah and I see how life can change in a moment. Life is fragile. Love is rare. Why would you deny it?”

“The girls. I worry about the girls.”

Sarah spoke slowly, thoughtfully. “I see where you’re coming from. I love Cisco and Margaret as if they were my own. I’d never want to see them hurt. They’re certainly always going to have to live with the loss of their father. But they like Wyatt, right?”

“They do.”

“You didn’t mess around with Wyatt while Gus was alive. Wyatt didn’t kill Gus in some deranged frenzy in order to be with you. I think that if you refrained from any public display of affection, any sexy touching or gooey kissing—”

“—which would freak the girls out if you did it with
any
man—” Sue interjected.

“—then they might actually see it as a good thing. They’re already comfortable with Wyatt. Maybe you could just sort of slowly slide into it.”

“I want to do it
right
.”

“Right,”
Sue said, “is a difficult concept. Other people’s definitions of ‘right’ almost kept us from being together.”

“What are you talking about?” Carley demanded. “I remember when you first met—Mom and Dad loved you from the start.”

“Not everyone’s as enlightened as your parents.” Sue toyed with the beads on her bracelet before admitting, “My family still isn’t comfortable with the fact that I’m a lesbian. My grandparents haven’t even met Sarah, not after all the years we’ve been together.”

“Sue, I didn’t realize. I’m sorry.”

Sarah said, “Carley, remember Freddie Matson?”

“Who could forget him?” She explained to Sue, “Freddie was the high school quarterback. Handsomest guy in the school. In the town. I was only a kid, but I remember gawking at him as if he were a movie star.”

“Freddie trapped me outside after the senior prom and told me
he didn’t like it that I was playing for the wrong side. He offered to help me out. He tried to ‘show me how a man does it.’ He was sure that one good fuck from him would bring me over to the home team.”

“Oh, gross! What did you do?”

“First I tried to joke it off. I argued. I shoved. He was determined and he was drunk and he was rough. I finally kneed him in the balls. My dress was torn. I had to walk home.”

Carley was stunned. “Sarah! I never knew!”

“No one did. I didn’t even tell Mom and Dad. I sat outside in the backyard until after midnight so they’d think I was having fun with my friends at the dance.”

“That’s awful.”

“It’s not unusual,” Sue said. “I can’t tell you the number of times a guy has said to me, ‘Honey, someone as good-looking as you ought to be able to get a man.’ ”

Sarah continued, “As if being lesbian is being second-place. Carley, I’ve lost friends because I’m with Sue. I’ve been turned down for jobs.”

“And apartments,” Sue recalled. “Remember, when we were in nursing school, we wanted to rent that cute little apartment on Oak Street, and the landlady asked, ‘What do you girls want with a one-bedroom apartment?’ She told us to get out. She said she wouldn’t allow any of that
nasty
stuff in her place.”

“I never knew that,” Carley said.

“I didn’t want you to get upset. You were younger, my little sweetie-pie sister.”

“Yeah, because I would have gone out and slugged those people in the nose,” Carley fiercely declared.

“We still get discriminated against,” Sue continued. “Not as much as we used to.”

“How about at work?” Carley asked.

“Oh, work’s fine with it.” Suddenly Sarah laughed. “Except some of the doctors, the ones with the biggest God complexes, often hit on us or make remarks. It’s part of the territory.”

“What we’re trying to say, Carley, is that it’s not always easy, choosing to be with someone who isn’t ‘right’ according to whatever rules society has floating around in the atmosphere. When Sarah and I decided to be partners, my parents were horrified. They had thought, all along, that I was in some kind of phase I’d grow out of. They refused to meet Sarah for years. When I told them I loved Sarah, that I was going to commit my life to her, my mother wept and my father went ballistic. He drove his fist through the living room wall. I love my parents. It broke my heart to upset them like that. It also made me mad as hell that they wouldn’t accept me for who I am and meet the woman I love!”

Sarah leaned over to pat Sue’s hand. “Deep breaths.” To Carley, she said, “The point is I love Sue. She loves me. We’ve made a happy life together. I guess we’re trying to say that other peoples’ concept of ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ doesn’t matter when you’re in love. What matters is the love.”

“I hear you.” Carley studied the faces of these two women who were as perfect a married couple as any she’d met. She cared for them with all her heart, and she didn’t need to say it aloud. They knew it in the depths of their hearts. “I appreciate your advice.”

“It’s easy to give advice,” Sarah said. “You and Wyatt have very big decisions to make.”

• • • • •

W
ith a whine of engines and a roar of backward thrust, the plane touched down on the runway. Carley and her girls were home. Along with the other passengers, they yelled, “Hooray!” People almost always did when the small planes landed safely after a bumpy flight over turbulent water.

They waited for their luggage—they’d had to borrow an extra suitcase from Carley’s mother for all the clothing they’d bought in New York—then hurried out to the car. As they were all fastening their seat belts, Carley’s cell rang.

“Carley?” It was Maud. “Listen, you need to go by Vanessa’s. She fell.”

“Oh, no! Is she okay?”

“Pretty much. Just shaken up. Sprained her left wrist, it’s in a sling. Twisted her ankle.”

“The baby—”

“The baby’s fine. The doctor checked. I took her to the hospital—”

“
You
took her to the hospital?”

“Well,
you
were in New York. Lauren and her family are off-island. It was down to Beth Boxer or me. What a choice, right?” Maud chuckled. “She said she had to decide whom she hated less, me or Toby, and chose me. I went over, got her up off the floor,
drove her to the emergency room. Drove her home. She’s fine, a bit shaken up, and she’ll probably need someone to cook her dinner or something for a few days.”

“I’ll bring her home,” Carley decided. “We’ll swing by Vanessa’s now.”

“No!” Margaret wailed. “I want to see Molly!”

“No!” Cisco echoed. “I want to go to Lauren’s. I haven’t ridden for days! Blue will be missing me!”

“Lauren’s not here, remember?” Carley reminded her daughter. “Come on, it won’t kill you to have a little Christmas spirit. Vanessa
fell.
”