The Guest Cottage (13 page)

“What do you want?”

Sophie looked at Hristo, seeing not only a handsome man but a person who was actually attracted to her. “I think I might want a divorce.” She hadn’t said that before to anyone. Perhaps she hadn’t even known that before she spoke.

“Will you be okay financially?”

“Oh, I think so. If Zack doesn’t offer to take care of us, I’m sure the courts will force him to do it.” Suddenly she closed her eyes. “I can’t believe I’m talking about this. I can’t believe I am so calmly speaking about the dissolution of a marriage.”

“You are also speaking about the beginning of a new life,” Hristo reminded her.

Sophie nodded. “That’s true.”

His words echoed in her mind as she lay in her bed, listening to the night birds call. Hristo had walked her to the door when he brought her home, and almost ceremonially he had bent forward to kiss her cheek. Then he withdrew with a nod. Sophie felt dazzled,
enchanted,
by the man—his foreignness, his formality, his accent, his courtesy, and his attentiveness. He had listened so carefully when she spoke.

The beginning of a new life,
he had said. She fell asleep easily, relaxed on good wine and sweet thoughts.

In the middle of the night, when the windows were black, she was startled awake by notes from the piano.

At first she thought she was dreaming. But only four notes sounded, over and over: DAH-dum-dum-dum. The last three notes were the same. She glanced at the bedside clock: three nineteen. Someone was downstairs, in the music room. An arrow of guilt shot through her. Did Lacey or Jonah want to learn piano but not want to ask? She slipped from her bed and hurried down the stairs.

As she entered the music room, she saw Trevor there, kneeling next to Leo, whose fingers were on the keys.

“Hey, buddy,” Trevor whispered. “It’s kind of late to make music. You’ll wake everyone up.”

“I know a song, Daddy,” Leo said, but he seemed puzzled.

“Awesome, guy. Why don’t you try it tomorrow when it’s daylight? It’s time for you to be in bed now.”

“Okay.” Leo surrendered, sagging against his father.

Sophie tiptoed back upstairs to her room. She heard Trevor come up the stairs carrying Leo, heard the doors shutting, and finally fell back asleep.

T
hree days later, in the middle of July, Trevor and Leo found themselves alone in the big house while Sophie, Jonah, and Lacey drove off with much ado to meet Sophie’s gang at the boat. Trevor knew he and Sophie were not
together.
But as Trevor stood in the kitchen watching Leo eat his Cheerios, a sad thought occurred to him: he and Leo had probably spent more time in a family atmosphere, doing family kinds of things,
here
with Sophie than they ever had with Tallulah.

He had plenty of work to do, but instead he coaxed Leo outside for a game of Frisbee. The fresh air and exercise would do them both good.

Leo was sitting on his shoulders, straining to reach the Frisbee where it had landed on top of one of the privet bushes, when he heard the crowd arrive. Doors slammed, people laughed, and then Sophie called, “Trevor, Leo, come meet everyone!”

“I got it!” Leo yelled, clutching the Frisbee in his hand.

“Yay, you!” Trevor said. “Come on, Lacey’s back.”

They were all there: practical, no-nonsense Bess with her son Cash, who was just Jonah’s age, and daughter Betsy, twelve years old and clearly Lacey’s idol. And Angie, who came without her children because they were with her ex-husband for the month.

The women were easy to tell apart. Bess taught history in high school and was the least attractive of the three, bony and angular, with cropped hair and brusque ways, but Sophie said Bess and her husband were deeply in love. Angie was a trial lawyer and sexy as hell, with crazy black curls she tied back with a brilliant multicolored scarf. She wore a low-cut sleeveless slip dress she could have worn as a nightgown.

“You didn’t tell me about Trevor,” Angie purred, flashing a look at Sophie.

Sophie reddened. “Of course I did. And Leo, too.”

“Mom.” Jonah and Cash stood just outside the door. “I thought we were going to the beach.”

“We are. Let’s change into our bathing suits and load up the stuff.” Sophie glanced over her shoulder at Trevor. “Do you and Leo want to come with?”

“Nah, you all have a good reunion,” Trevor told her. “Leo and I have other plans.” He was not going to trail after Sophie like a lovesick bull. He’d come up with a cool idea while playing Frisbee with Leo, and after they got their bathing suits on, he took Leo to Jetties Beach, rented a kayak and life vests, and took the boy out in the water.

The harbor was crowded with kayaks, sailboats, and windsurfers in a riot of Crayola colors that washed a childish happiness over the scene. From the water they could look back at all the people lying on their beach towels, or reading on beach chairs beneath umbrellas, or, of course, building sand castles. Great ferries glided past them to and from Hyannis. He had slathered both himself and his son with sunblock, and they wore T-shirts and scalloper’s caps with large bills, but even so, after a couple of hours, he could feel the sun reddening his skin. He returned the kayak and took Leo up to the Jetties snack bar for lunch.

Leo fell asleep in his car seat on the way back to the guest cottage. Trevor carried him into the house and laid him on his bed to finish his nap. He took a hurried shower with the bathroom door open, listening for the sounds of Leo waking up, but when he was freshly dressed, he returned to find Leo still asleep.

He brought down his laptop and was checking emails when Sophie and her gang returned. They were giggling and chattering like a gaggle of geese. Betsy and Lacey ran up to Lacey’s room immediately. The boys lumbered up to Jonah’s room. Sophie, Bess, and Angie threw themselves down on the furniture around Trevor, exuding sunshine and silliness.

Trevor stood up, intending to take his laptop to his room, but Angie patted the sofa next to her and said, “Don’t run away, Trevor. We won’t bite. Unless you want us to,” she added playfully.

“Stop that, Angie,” Bess ordered. “He’ll think we’ve been drinking.”

“What a good idea!” exclaimed Angie. “I could use a drink right now.”

“We’re going to make a big salad for everyone, and we’ve brought cold cuts so the kids can make their own sandwiches,” Sophie told him. She was wearing a red bikini with an open-cut white top over it. Her nose was sunburnt and her hair was messy. She was gorgeous.

“We’re going to the Box after the kids are in bed,” Bess told him.

“Why don’t you come with us?” invited Angie.

Trevor stood there feeling like the odd man out, which, actually, was exactly what he was. “Leo—” he began.

“The older kids will be here,” Sophie reminded him.

Without waiting for his decision, Sophie left the room, heading toward the utility room with an armful of wet towels. Angie rose and came toward Trevor, raising her sleek olive arms to catch her crazy curls and twist them behind her head. They immediately exploded back all around her head in a dark halo. She wore a gold bikini and, he couldn’t help noticing, she had a tiny gold ring in her belly button. A long turquoise shirt covered her shoulder and arms, but she left the front unbuttoned so it exposed bits of her as she walked. In a way she reminded him of Tallulah, physical and earthy and fun-loving.

Just when he thought she was going to walk right into him, Angie veered to the side. “I’m going to make a cocktail. Want one?”

“Sure,” Trevor answered. “I’m not sure if we’ve got the makings for one, though.”

“No problem—I stopped by the liquor store on the way home.” Angie sauntered into the kitchen.

Trevor headed up the stairs with his laptop. He was glad he was not being left out, but he wasn’t certain he liked the way he was being included.

“How old are you?” he said to himself in the mirror. “Twelve?”

By the time he was downstairs, someone had put on music, light summer songs: “Surfin’ U.S.A.,” “Dancing Queen,” “Flashdance,” “Footloose.” He checked on Leo, who was oblivious to it all as he worked on his Great Wall of China. In the kitchen, Sophie and Bess worked competently, washing lettuces, chopping vegetables, discussing movies, and sipping their drinks.

“Here,” Angie said, holding out a fluorescent pink drink.

Trevor looked at it suspiciously. “What is it?”

Angie cocked an eyebrow. “It’s my own concoction. I haven’t named it yet. Just try it.” With a clearly seductive look, she added, “I promise you it’s not too sweet.”

Trevor swallowed the drink, which seemed to include vodka and raspberry liqueur and something bitter with a tang. He had to admit he liked it. “It’s good.”

Angie took his arm and steered him toward the patio door. “Sophie and Bess have it under control in there. Sophie and Bess always have it under control. We might as well enjoy our drinks.”

Once they were settled side by side in patio chairs, Angie glanced over at Trevor and remarked, “Weird, huh? The way you met Sophie. The two of you living together like this with your children. It’s kind of like college. Or maybe a halfway house, not that I’ve ever been in one.”

“True,” Trevor replied. “I’ve tried to reach Ivan Swenson, but his number no longer responds. When I last spoke to him, he was planning to go to India. If he has gone there I don’t expect to hear from him anytime soon.”

“But it’s working out all right, isn’t it?”

“Did Sophie say that?”

“She did. She said you’re really good about cleaning the kitchen.” Angie threw back her head and laughed. “You can tell she’s an old married woman, judging a man by how he cleans the kitchen.” She threw a challenging look at Trevor, clearly giving him the go-ahead to ask how
she
judged a man.

Trevor’s mind said:
Oh, man, do I really want to get into this?
Trevor’s body said:
Let’s go!

“She’s a champion at cooking,” Trevor said. “And her children, Lacey especially, are really nice to my boy.”

“Yeah,” Angie said quietly, “Sophie told us you’ve lost your wife. How’s Leo doing?”

“Okay, although he often has nightmares and tantrums.”

“All kids have nightmares and tantrums,” said Angie. “Few kids can focus for as long as it seems Leo can. He’s really dedicated to his Legos.”

“Yes, that’s a new behavior, the obsession with putting Legos together. Plus he has to put his clothes out for the next day, in a certain order…”

“So do I, if I’ve got a busy day,” Angie told him. “So you live in Boston?”

It took a moment for Trevor to switch gears, to stop thinking about his son’s behavior and return to conversation mode. He took a sip of his drink. That helped. For a while he talked easily with Angie, telling her where he lived, what kind of work he did, and how he had kind of fallen into computers as a profession. In turn, she told him about her life. She’d been divorced for three years and had two children, nine-year-old twins, both girls. She was a partner in a Boston law firm. She liked her work and was good at it. She also liked her ex-husband and his new wife. She couldn’t help it, she confessed to Trevor—she preferred to be happy in her life.

Bess called them in for dinner. Jonah and Cash got permission to take their enormous handmade sandwiches on a plate into the family room to eat while they watched a movie. Betsy and Lacey fussed around Leo, fixing his sandwich for him, asking him if he liked mayonnaise, cutting it into four triangles. After dinner, Trevor took Leo upstairs to bed. The little boy had had his bath and now he was droopy-eyed with sleepiness. Trevor started to read him a story, but Leo’s eyes closed and he sort of melted into his pillow, in a luxurious deep drowse.

Trevor went down to start cleaning up the kitchen. He turned off the radio—the music was beginning to irritate him—and listened to the sounds in the house as he rinsed and stacked and carried. The three women had gone upstairs to get ready for the Box, which seemed to cause incredible hilarity. Trevor smiled to hear them. Tallulah had seldom brought girlfriends home. She hadn’t particularly cared for other women, judging them as competition or criticism. It was men that Tallulah liked, men and acting, and, it seemed, heroin. It had never been the perfect marriage, but when Trevor thought of Leo, he never regretted a moment he’d spent with Tallulah.

He heard whispering and giggling. The three women were creeping down the stairs, holding their high-heeled sandals in their hands. They all wore sundresses that showed off their tans and tan lines from their bikinis. They were gleaming with mascara and lipstick, even the usually subdued Bess.

“We’re going now,” said Sophie, obviously unaware as she bent over to strap on her shoes how far down the front of her dress this position allowed Trevor to see.

Angie undulated over to Trevor and put her arm through his. “Please, Trevor, come with us. It would be such a favor to us if you would come. Then we’d look more like a party.”

“The kids—” began Trevor.

“The kids are fine,” Sophie told him. “I’ve given Jonah orders to keep an eye on the kids, especially Leo. He’ll call me if Leo wakes up and needs you. Come on,” she added with a mischievous smile. “You could use some fun in your life.”

So he ended up driving the three women to the long, low rectangular building hidden on a side street near a pharmacy and a Stop & Shop. The Box was surrounded by people of all ages lounging against cars smoking and talking. Inside, the large room pulsed with music. Almost everyone was dancing to techno versions of the latest hits.

“I’ll get the drinks,” Trevor offered.

The women only nodded—no one could hear over the music—and deserted him to squeeze onto the dance floor. Trevor wedged himself between two overgrown boys who smelled as if they’d been landscaping all day. In a zoo.

He waited patiently to order their drinks. He kept his eye on the women. Clearly fueled by a day of sunshine and freedom from mommyhood, the trio danced with abandon, laughing, tossing their hair, waving their arms, shaking their booty. Angie had the body the most like Tallulah’s. She had that kind of aura, too, her presence flashing in Times Square neon:
Look at me! Come and get me!
She would be something to get, Trevor realized. It had been a long time since he had been with a woman, since he had comforted himself by sinking into the softness of a curvaceous female.

When the drinks finally arrived, he managed to collect them and squeeze through the crowd to a table at the far end of the room. Mango Tinis for the women, just a beer for him. He was the designated driver.