Summer House (35 page)

Twenty-two

S
arah Chamberlain’s wedding
was held on the long swoop of lawn at her parents’ house in Sconset. The sky was cerulean blue, the air sweet and calm. A rose arbor had been erected to frame the ceremony, and white folding chairs ranged on either side of a pink carpet scattered with rose petals. For this outdoor occasion, women needed to shade their faces from the sun’s rays, and pastel flower-trimmed hats bobbed in the congregation like dozens of giant cupcakes.

Helen often cried at weddings. Today, when Sarah and her groom, Marcus, came down the aisle, Sarah was holding their six-month-old daughter in her arms. Baby Guinevere wore a christening gown whose long skirts trailed over Sarah’s arms more beautifully than any bridal bouquet, and Helen was moved to tears. Sarah and Marcus were young, strong, optimistic, and madly in love. And Ruby Chamberlain, Sarah’s mother, had a granddaughter.
O greedy, envious heart
, Helen thought, chiding herself as she wept.
Stop longing just for a moment, and wish them well.

After the ceremony, everyone went to the yacht club for the reception. Earlier that morning, Grace had driven Charlotte and Helen out to the airport, where they each rented a car. Helen got a Saab, Charlotte a Jeep. Helen drove Teddy and Suzette to the yacht club. Charlotte drove Worth. Grace and her family went in their own SUV and Volvo. At the club, one of the larger tables had their name cards on it, and Helen swiftly rearranged them so that Teddy was seated between Suzette and Charlotte.

Since their argument about Sweet Cakes, Helen and Worth hadn’t spoken, except for the necessary words exchanged in front of Worth’s sister and her family about the events of the day. Worth’s protestation of love for Helen had been given angrily and under duress, and although he’d said he would break off with Sweet Cakes—with
Cindy
—Helen felt as if Cindy were still there with him—with them—poisoning their marriage. And of course she was. Even if he never saw her again, Worth would be able to remember the other woman’s body, the smell of her, the sounds she made during passion, the hue and silk of her skin.
Thirty-nine.
Would it have been less painful if Cindy were fifty-nine? Yes, Helen admitted to herself, she thought it would.

She’d assumed that once she confronted Worth she would feel less burdened, less pressure-driven by the secret, and there
was
a lessening of anxiety. But it was replaced by a constant searing pain beneath her breast. Worth had confirmed her suspicions. He had given a name and an age to the other woman. She did not know where they would go from here. She did not know where she wanted to go.

For now, she was glad to be out in a crowd. It was natural for her not to be chatting with her own husband, and it was a relief to be away from Grace’s curious gaze. Helen settled at the table next to Suzette. Teddy went off to fetch drinks—sparkling water for him and Suzette, champagne for Helen. Leaning back in her chair, she surveyed the crowd. Joe Abernathy was chatting with Lew Lowry Joe was a handsome man in a completely different way from Worth. Short, compact, bulky, he looked like a retired wrestler but sounded like an Episcopal minister. He caught Helen staring at him and winked. Helen smiled back.

Joe started shouldering his way through the crowd, coming toward Helen, and her heart skipped a beat. It had been a long time since she’d felt this, this unsettling jolt of sexual attraction. In fact, she’d assumed she was past feeling such things.

Years ago, when Teddy, her youngest child, had finally turned five, old enough to attend kindergarten, when the hot intense chaos of nursing, rocking, soothing, and entertaining babies and toddlers had passed and she finally had space and time to catch her breath and pay attention to the adult world around her, Helen had enjoyed all sorts of playful flirtations. At dinner parties, after doubles tennis, on the ferry coming to the island, during any social engagement with other mommies and daddies, Helen had sensed a man’s interest and felt that knock of engagement, that swift force of desire, and sometimes she’d let herself go with it, as if stepping into a flooding channel of water and allowing herself to be swept off her feet, carried downstream, buffeted and lifted and turned by sensation. But it was always only play. The attraction to another man might be powerful enough that she conjured up fantasies of making love with him, even of running away with him, when she and Worth were making love. But she’d never so much as kissed another man. She’d had opportunities, of course, but she’d always gotten out in time—she’d thought of it as getting out, as
escaping
—and she’d felt the hot wash of relief that she’d not betrayed Worth, that their marriage was intact, that she truly loved him, and for months after her flirtation she would be fiercely passionate with her husband. In a way, their marriage was stronger for her occasional imaginary wanderings.

Now Worth had changed everything. He was unfaithful in reality, having sex with another woman—with Cindy. Surely Helen was free to do the same. She even
deserved
an affair, something to make her feel young again, attractive, radiant with sexuality, and she wouldn’t just feel it, she would
be
that way, for she knew how love could light up a woman’s life and make her glow.

Joe bent and whispered in her ear, because the band was so loud. He asked her to dance. Helen smiled and rose shakily, suddenly nervous. The band was playing a set of fifties love ballads: “In the Still of the Night,” “My Prayer,” “Unchained Melody.” All around them
couples danced, holding each other tightly, surrendering to the dreamy mood. Joe pulled her close. She rested her head on his shoulder and allowed herself to relish the man’s body, so different in length and breadth from Worth’s, against hers. His strong thighs touching her thighs. His broad chest against her bosom. She saw Sarah Chamberlain in her sweeping white bridal gown snuggled up against her new husband, both of them deep in private rapture. She could not quite remember such bliss. Joe’s hand, warm against her back, caressed her as he pulled her closer, and he moved his hand down until he was touching the cleft of her lower back. Joe was divorced. His ex-wife lived on the West Coast; she never came to Nantucket these days.

I could do this
, Helen thought.
I can do this.

The music ended. She stepped back and met Joe’s eyes. The look he gave her caused a rush of heat low in her belly, a flood of desire.

Helen said softly, “Oh, dear.”

Joe said, “When can I see you?”

She answered, “Monday. Worth goes back to Boston on Monday.”

Now the music started again, this time fast music that had people twisting and shouting. Joe kept his hand on her arm as he ushered her back to her table.

“My house,” he said. “What time?”

“In the afternoon. I’ll say I’m shopping.” Even as she spoke, she regretted it. She was sure she wouldn’t show up.

“Mom.”
Charlotte clutched Helen’s wrist.

Helen’s heart lurched guiltily. Was she being so obvious?

“Mom,” Charlotte said again, “listen. Suzette’s having contractions.”

Helen looked across the table. Suzette was crouched on her chair, hands on her abdomen, frowning and panting. Teddy knelt next to her, his hand on her back, his face blazing with alarm.

“It’s too early.” Helen spoke her thoughts aloud, trying to make sense of what she saw. “Maybe they’re Braxton-Hicks. False labor,” she explained to her daughter.

Forgetting about Joe, Helen hurried around the table. She knelt
next to Teddy, her scarlet skirt pooling around her. “Suzette? Have you been timing your contractions?”

“They’re five minutes apart,” Teddy told her.

Suzette’s face glistened with sweat, but as a contraction lessened, she took a deep breath and whispered desperately, “I don’t want to lose the baby. Helen, I’m scared.”

Helen put her hands on Suzette’s shoulders. “Don’t be afraid. You’ll be fine. Your baby will be fine. Teddy is here, and I’m here, and we’re going to get you to the hospital right now. Can you stand up?”

Suzette’s eyes were wide, the whites showing like a frightened animal’s. “I think so.”

“Teddy, take her left arm.”

Helen took Suzette’s right arm. She and her son levered the young woman up and slowly walked away from the ballroom. Helen was vaguely aware of the glances from people sitting at other tables. She could feel the buzz of conversation resonate at this end of the room. They managed to get Suzette out into the lobby before another contraction gripped her, and she moaned and bent double.

“Hold her, Teddy,” Helen instructed her son. “Take as much of her weight as you can.”

“Helen,” Suzette gasped. “It
hurts.”

Helen kept her arm around the young woman’s back. “Yes, I know, but that’s natural, that’s all right.”

“Oh, no.” Suzette shuddered, her body swayed, and her knees buckled. Helen heard the splash of liquid, and saw moisture spreading beneath Suzette’s feet.

“Your water broke, Suzette. You remember your childbirth classes, right?” Helen looked over Suzette’s head at Teddy. His face had gone white.
“Teddy.”
When her son glanced at her, she said, “It’s going to be just fine. This is all normal.”

Grace swept up to them, her neck stretched, jaw pointing outward, nostrils flared. “What in the world are you all doing? So rude, leaving the reception—oh, my God!” Grace stared at the puddle of blood-tinged water at Suzette’s feet. “Of course you would have to do that
here.
”

For one brutal moment, Helen wanted to slap her sister-in-law. Instead, she ignored her. “Teddy, we’re going to drive Suzette to the hospital. It will take less time than calling an ambulance and waiting for it to arrive. We’re going to walk Suzette out to the porch. I’ll get the car. You keep supporting her.”

And then, all at once, Worth was there, resplendent in his tux, strong and tall. He said to Helen, “She’s in labor?”

“Yes. Her water just broke.”

“Ooooh.” Suzette tried to stifle a moan as her body was cramped by another contraction. She sagged between Helen and Teddy.

“Let me hold her,” Worth told Helen. “I can support more of her weight. You get the car.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake!” Grace exclaimed, to no one in particular.

Helen eased herself from Suzette’s heavy grip as Worth slid next to her, wrapping his arm around her just beneath her shoulders. Helen turned and ran out of the club, through the large parking lot, until she found the rented Saab. She yanked open the door and dropped down into the driver’s seat, clumsily knocking her knee against the door as she did. Her hand was shaking so hard she could barely stab the key into the ignition, but finally she managed it; she hit the gas and the car roared to life. She steered it to the porch, where Suzette, Teddy, and Worth were waiting. As they helped the pregnant woman into the car, Helen saw Charlotte come running through the lobby. Whit Lowry was behind her.

“Oh, wow!” Charlotte looked in the window. “Suzette, I’m coming to the hospital. I’ll be right behind you.” She glanced around frantically.

“I’ll drive you,” Whit told Charlotte, and they ran to the parking lot.

Teddy was in the backseat, Suzette half seated, half leaning on him. Helen drove away, her hands trembling on the steering wheel.

From the passenger seat, Worth reached over and put his warm hand on Helen’s. “Take a deep breath. Focus, Helen. The hospital is only a few minutes away. Suzette is young and healthy. She’s doing fine. We’re all doing fine.”

His voice was low and calm, and the words he spoke were very
much like the words he had said to her when she was in labor with their three children, especially the first time. But each time she had been frightened anyway; it was the unsureness of it all. She had never remembered how ferocious the pain was. The pain always seemed so violent, Helen had thought it indicated a problem, something wrong with the baby or the labor, and her fear had intensified her agony.

“Teddy,” Worth said, turning to his son, “take a deep breath. Breathe evenly, and help Suzette get her breathing in control. She’s going to be fine.”

Teddy nodded, but just then Suzette cried out in agony and her body arched upward on the seat.

“Dad, Dad!” Teddy yelled. “What can I do? What can I do?”

“I’m going to die!” Suzette screamed. “Help me, please help me!”

“Listen, Suzette.” Worth’s voice was calm but forceful. “You’re not going to die. This pain is normal. This pain is natural. You are not going to die. You might be in transition.” He glanced over at Helen, whose hands were clamped for dear life onto the steering wheel. “Doesn’t this sound like transition?” He turned back to Suzette. “If this is transition, you’ll have your baby any moment now. Look, here we are, almost to the hospital. Teddy, take deep breaths. Suzette, hold Teddy’s hands. Squeeze them when the pain is the worst.”

Helen sped into the hospital parking lot, braking to a halt next to the emergency room door so hard the car nearly skidded. In the backseat, Suzette screamed and screamed, while Teddy yelled, “You’ll be all right. We’re at the hospital. You’ll be all right.”

Before she’d turned the engine off, Worth jumped out of the car, ran into the hospital, and came back with a wheelchair. Suzette was in the throes of a contraction, so they could only wait patiently until it had ended. Then Worth helped Teddy ease Suzette from the car and into the wheelchair.

“I’ll park the car,” Worth told Helen. “You go with them.”

She was so grateful to him for understanding her need she almost wept. “Thanks.”

They entered the hospital through the automatic doors. An orderly was there to help Teddy steer Suzette down the long hall to the
elevator. Helen stopped at the desk to fill out the necessary forms, then raced off to the maternity ward, holding her long skirt high as she pounded up the stairs, too anxious to wait for the slow elevator. The second floor of the small hospital was quiet and dark—it was after ten o’clock—and Helen was led to Suzette’s room by the sound of her shrieks. She stepped into the room but stayed by the door.