Summer Beach Reads 5-Book Bundle: Beachcombers, Heat Wave, Moon Shell Beach, Summer House, Summer Breeze (157 page)

“Yes,” Whit agreed quietly, “it is.”

Charlotte sniffed. “I’ve been trying to—oh, this sounds corny, but it’s the only way I know how to say it—I’ve been trying to live
virtuously
ever since. I didn’t have sex for years, and I worked in my garden and spent my free time with Nona—not that I don’t adore Nona, I do, but I haven’t had much of a social life. I thought—I
knew
—the time would come when I would wake up one morning and realize I’d paid my debt. I would be free to move on. And this morning—well, this morning, Mandy told me that Mee spent the night with Coop. She’s still with him.”

“Really?” Next to her, Whit broke into a big smile. He turned to look at Charlotte. “How do you feel about that?”

“I’m glad.” Charlotte lifted her head and wiped the back of her hands across her wet cheeks. “I won’t deny I’ve always had a kind of crush on Coop. But over the summer I’ve gotten to know him, and we’re so different it would never have worked out between us. And I know how bad Mee has felt since her divorce, she’s been feeling unattractive and unloved and all of that, and now she can feel superior and smug and ravishingly irresistible because she’s ‘stolen’ Coop from me.” Charlotte looked up at Whit. “What I want to know, what I
need to
know, is whether or not I should tell Mee that I slept with her husband. I mean, I don’t want her to feel guilty about Coop.”

Whit studied her face. “You’ve got quite a complicated system of checks and balances going on inside your head.”

She nodded, agreeing.

“It seems to me,” Whit said slowly, “that Mee ‘stealing’ Coop from you shouldn’t make Mee feel as guilty as you feel about sleeping with her husband. Plus, Mee is just a bit—this is only an observation, not a criticism—Mee’s less complicated than you. I don’t think she’ll feel guilty about Coop. So I don’t see that it would do any good to tell her about you and Phillip.”

“Oh, thank heavens.” Charlotte sighed. “I think you’re right. Oh, you have no idea how good I feel now—how
free
!”

“I’m flattered that you’ve come to me with this, Charlotte.”

“You
are
sort of like family,” she told him.

With a smile in his voice, he said, “I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or bad.”

Carefully, Charlotte chose her words. “I
love
my family. I’ve realized that I can’t be like Oliver and just move away to another part of the world and live my life separately. For better or worse, my life is going to be influenced by my family. For a while I fought against that, and I know some people would say I’m too—what is the pop word these days?—
enmeshed.
But I love my family. I love my mother and father, and I adore Nona, and I want to help Teddy, and I’m getting terribly fond of Suzette, and I’m irrationally wild about their baby, and I’m not sure I love Uncle Kellogg and Aunt Grace, but I do love my cousins and I’m glad they’re so temperamental about Suzette’s baby and my using Nona’s land, because it just makes them human and weak and fallible, and that makes me feel better about myself.” Charlotte was crying again. “Oh, Whit. I’m an
idiot.
”

“True, but a very attractive one,” Whit told her. Reaching out, he put his arm around her and pulled her next to him in a brotherly hug.

Charlotte leaned against him, grateful for his strength, his maleness, his calm, and cried for a while, in the shelter of his arms.

After a while, Charlotte said reluctantly, “I have to get back to the garden.”

“All right,” Whit said, but he didn’t take his arms away.

“Whit?”

“Mm?”

“Could we have dinner tonight?”

“Damn. I can’t. I’ve got plans. And may I hasten to add,
family
plans.”

“Oh. Oh, well.…” Charlotte pulled herself away from him and stood. She began to gather up the thermos and cups.

Whit rose, too. “How about tomorrow night?”

She looked at him, aware that her face was streaked with tears and her hair was probably all over the place. In spite of that, she sensed his desire for her. It was as certain as the sunlight.

“Dinner? Tomorrow night? Sounds wonderful.”

They walked beneath the low green ceiling of leaves and branches up out of the secluded glade and back along the dirt road to Altar Rock and their cars. All around them, beach plums and rose hips glistened among the heath and low bushes, and a hawk wheeled high overhead in the flawless blue sky. Charlotte felt as if she were suddenly possessed of a rare, clear, pure happiness—it was a delicate gift, almost liquid, contained within her heart like elixir in a sacred vessel. She wanted to be motionless; she wanted to simply exist, feeling this way. Cleansed. And new.

Helen steered the old Chrysler into a parking spot in the airport lot and took a moment to check her reflection in the mirror. When Worth phoned this morning to tell her he would be arriving at five-thirty, he sent her into a kind of young love fit of jitters. She tried on several outfits, finding them all wrong—the shirt with the low bodice was too suggestive, the khaki trousers were too prim, and her favorite sundress seemed too dressy. She settled on the sundress finally, carefully put on makeup, and then hurriedly washed it all off.

She was lucky she’d made it to the airport in time.

As she walked toward the terminal, her heart began to leap and bound. And when she saw Worth coming from the baggage section, his duffel bag in his hand, she almost giggled with nervousness. Had she forgotten how handsome he was, how striking?

He scanned the crowd, and when he saw Helen he smiled.

She waited as he made his way toward her.

“Hi,” he said simply, and bent down to kiss her lips.

It was only a quick, neat, familial kiss—Worth did not like public
displays of affection—but Helen nearly swooned like a schoolgirl.
My goodness
, she thought,
how the body goes along just doing what it wants to do!

He took her hand as they left the terminal and headed toward the Jeep.

“Good flight?” she asked.

“Easy,” he told her. “Ah, the island air is so much nicer than the city’s. It’s good to be here.”

“It’s good to have you here,” she said, then bit her lip at the formality of her words.

When they reached the Jeep, Worth hesitated. “I have an idea.”

“Yes?”

“Let’s stay at an inn. Let’s stay at an inn, and eat dinner out, and not go back to Nona’s until tomorrow.”

Helen said the first thing that came into her mind, “But in August! During high season! It will be so expensive.”

“It will be so
private
,” Worth countered. “I want to spend some time alone with you.”

Helen flushed. “We’ll have to phone them or they’ll worry. What will we tell them?”

“I’ll call them. I’ll tell them we’re spending the night in town and will be home tomorrow. That’s all they need to know.”

“I don’t have a toothbrush,” Helen said weakly.

“We’ll buy one.” He held the car door. “Come on. Let’s go.”

The drive from the airport to the center of town was only a matter of a few miles. Worth choose an inn halfway between the Jetties Beach and town. It was larger than the cozy B&Bs and it had parking. There was a vacancy, and they were given a room, and before Helen had really accustomed herself to the idea, they were walking down the long carpeted hallway. Air-conditioning blew, tempering the air, and the silence was sheltering. Worth keyed the door open, ushered Helen inside, and shut the door behind them. The room was comfortable, clean, and anonymous. They were closed away from the world.

A jealous thought popped into Helen’s mind:
Was this the sort of place Worth had taken Cindy?

Stop it!
she mentally ordered herself.
Love over fear, remember?

“Let’s go to bed.” Worth held out his hand.

Helen hesitated. Suddenly, she felt shy. She put her hand in his.

Worth led her to the king-size bed. Together they turned back the covers. He crossed the room to pull the draperies shut, but a streak of daylight still striped the room, and Helen felt even more timid. She did not want to be judged and found ugly in comparison to a younger woman. And yet this was such a new moment between them, she didn’t want to spoil it with her jealousy.

Worth quickly stripped off his clothes and slid naked into bed. She undressed too and got into bed, pulling the covers up.

Worth turned on his side to look at her. “Come here often?” he asked.

She laughed, grateful for his attempt at humor. Reaching out, she put her hand on his chest. He was so warm.

Worth pulled her to him. At first she was awkward, insecure, and too occupied with her thoughts, but her husband wooed her with his hands and mouth until she surrendered to the moment, and then they were together, warm and tender, familiar, but excitingly just a little strange, a little new. In the heat of the moment, she wept, and her husband kissed her tears.

Afterward, they slept.

When they woke, it was evening.

“Hungry?” Worth asked.

“Starving.” Helen stretched her limbs in the bed, which, after her nights on the sleeping-porch daybed, felt luxurious. “Should we walk into town?”

“Do you suppose they have room service?” Worth asked.

Helen grinned. “I bet the Red Sox have a night game.”

“You’re right,” Worth admitted.

He rose from the bed and stalked naked across the room to the desk where the leather portfolio lay. “Ah. They do. Have room service.” He looked at Helen.

“It sounds lovely,” she said.

Worth phoned in their order, and then, at Helen’s request, dialed Nona’s number.

“Ah, Glorious, it’s you.
Wonderful.
Look, Helen and I are spending the night in town. We just wanted to let everyone know so you don’t wonder where we are.” Worth grinned as he listened to the voice clamoring around Glorious. “No, thank you, Glorious, we don’t need to talk to Grace. We’re fine, and we’ll be home tomorrow, around noon. Would you please tell Nona this yourself? Thanks.”

“Poor Grace,” Helen said, not without a bit of pleasure. “She must be crazy curious.”

“It will be good for her,” Worth said.

“Well, we’re only an old married couple having room service and watching television,” Helen said.

Worth smiled at her from across the room. “Two people, together,” he said.

Wednesday morning, Helen and Worth walked into town, ate a long satisfying breakfast at Fog Island, then sauntered up and down the cobblestone streets like a pair of tourists. Worth bought
The New York Times
and Helen bought a toothbrush. It was fun to be in town in the morning along with all the other people—families, dog walkers, and lovers, young and old—strolling along, enjoying the bright day.

But when the hour came to check out of their hotel room, reality descended. It was time to return to the summer house.

Worth drove the old Chrysler, and Helen sat in the passenger seat. As they drove along the winding road, Helen studied her husband’s face. “How do you feel about Nona’s news?”

“I’m still processing it. And it’s still hard. I don’t think I’m ready to tell the children yet.”

“Do they ever need to know?” Helen asked.

“Yes. Yes, I think they do. Sometime. And Grace should know, too. But Nona took her own sweet time telling me. I don’t want to rush things. We’ve all had enough drama this summer.”

“Yes,” Helen murmured. “That’s certainly true.”

Worth reached across and took Helen’s hand. “I want to talk to
Teddy and Suzette. I want to tell them I’m sorry I acted like an asshole. I want them to know I’m ready to love their baby—” “She’s very easy to love,” Helen said.

“—and maybe we can just have a normal family life for a while.” Helen laughed. “If there
is
any such thing as normal family life!”

Drooping heavily with leaves, the roadside trees and abundant bushes made a green tunnel of the road. In the verge, asters and wild daisies and Queen Anne’s lace dotted the green with yellow and pink and white. They arrived at Nona’s driveway, turned onto the dirt lane, and suddenly slowed.

“What’s that hellish noise?” Worth asked.

Helen listened, frowning, to an unnerving shrill whine, vibrating, shaking the air. “I don’t know, Worth. I can’t imagine.”

Worth stepped on the gas, sending the Chrysler speeding over the dirt road. As they grew closer to the house, the noise grew louder and more intense.

They came to a halt in the middle of the drive.

Two enormous dump trucks blocked the way. One had a chipper attached behind it. A man wearing heavy black earphones was feeding branches into the machine, which screamed shrilly as it ground away, spitting chips into the truck bed. Behind him, two men wielded chain saws as they sliced branches off the privet hedge. Already one side of the hedged garden had been removed. Bare stumps protruded from the ground. The sun flooded in on the slates, warming ground that had been shaded for generations.

Worth and Helen jumped out of the car and ran down the drive, around the trucks, and into the house.

Nona was in the living room, seated on her chaise, watching through the closed French doors as the men worked. She looked wonderful. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes bright with excitement. She wore a pair of white fur earmuffs. Seeing Worth and Helen, she yelled, “It’s the only way I can tolerate the noise. It’s all too fascinating
not
to watch!”