The Guest Cottage (24 page)

“Man up, Trevor,” he said aloud in the night and turned to go back into the house.

He found Candace in the family room, curled in an armchair, reading a magazine. She wore that transparent bit of girly nightwear that showed off her lovely body. When she saw Trevor, she stretched and smiled.

“Why don’t you lock the door?” she purred.

Trevor shut the door but didn’t lock it. He pulled up one of the chairs from the card table and turned it around so he could sit on it with his arms folded on top of the back, with the back forming a kind of barrier between himself and Candace.

The symbolism wasn’t lost on her. She tilted her head inquiringly.

“Candace,” Trevor began, “we need to talk.”

In response, she let the magazine fall to the floor and rearranged herself on the armchair, tucking her long legs beneath her. “Oh? Only talk?”

“Listen, I’m afraid I’ve been giving out the wrong signals. I’m glad Leo has Cassidy for a friend—and I’m glad to have you for a friend, too.” He was struggling to find the right words. He didn’t want to insult her.

Candace asked softly, “Friends and nothing more?”

“Right.” He held out his hands, as if displaying an emptiness. “You are a gorgeous woman, Candace, and any man would be lucky to be with you.”

“But you don’t want to be that man.”

“No. I’m sorry.”

“Do you suppose you’re not ready? The time isn’t right? I mean, Tallulah hasn’t been gone very long…”

That would be an easy way out, and for a moment Trevor considered taking it. But no. He wanted to be honest. “It’s not the time, Candace. It’s—” He hesitated.

“Don’t say, ‘It’s not you, it’s me,’ ” Candace said sharply. “It’s pretty obvious you’re in love with that Sophie.”

Trevor huffed in surprise. “I’ve only known her for about six weeks.”

Candace stood up, her body shimmering beneath her nightie. She walked over to the sofa and sat down on it, wrapping a blanket around her, not looking at him. “You’ve been honest with me, Trevor. I suggest you do the same with yourself.”

He felt the chill coming from her, the anger. “Are you mad at me?”

“Are you kidding? Of course I am. No one likes being rejected. I thought we had a real future, the four of us.” Impatiently, she snapped, “Oh, get over it, Trevor; I certainly will. Go away and leave me alone and let me lick my wounds in peace.”

Trevor stood up, then waited, wondering what to say next. “Candace, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, that makes me feel ever so much better.” Her voice was bitter.

He could tell she was going to cry. He felt like a weasel. “Candace—”

“Don’t. Shut up. I’m fine. Go away. We’ll leave tomorrow.” She waited until his hand was on the door to the hallway before adding, “And don’t worry, Trevor. I won’t get in the way of our kids’ friendship. I would never do that.”

“Thanks,” Trevor said.

Candace didn’t reply. Trevor went out of the room, closing the door behind him.

A
gain. Around three in the morning, the notes sounded: DAH-dum-dum-dum.

Sophie slid her feet to the floor and tiptoed down the stairs.

Candace was standing in the living room, looking into the music room where Trevor knelt, speaking in low tones to his son. She was wearing—good grief, what
was
Candice wearing? Something from Frederick’s of Hollywood? What if she had to go to her daughter in the night?

“Sexy,” Candace whispered.

Sophie realized Candace was being sarcastic as she observed Sophie in her boxer shorts and baggy T-shirt.

Before she could think of a response, Candace murmured, “That poor little boy. Look what you’ve done. You’ve turned him into a freak.”

Sophie blinked. Trevor was lifting his son into his arms. Leo laid his head on his father’s shoulder drowsily. Without responding to Candace, Sophie hurriedly slipped back up the stairs and to her room. She didn’t want Trevor and especially Leo to see the two mommies standing there gawking at him. And she was too appalled by Candace’s words to think of a response. Anyway, the middle of the night was hardly the time to get into a discussion of Leo’s behavior.

As she pulled her door closed, she heard Trevor speaking softly to Candace. Only a moment later, Trevor’s steps came up the stairs and turned toward Leo’s bedroom. A door shut. The house was quiet.

Sophie sat on her bed for a moment, letting her rattled heart slow to a normal pace.
Was
Candace, in any way, right? Had Sophie somehow added to Leo’s obsessive problems by teaching him to play the piano? She didn’t think so. Trevor hadn’t said anything like that.

A tap sounded on Sophie’s bedroom door. Without waiting for a response, Trevor opened the door and let himself in. Before she could speak, Trevor put his fingers to his lips in a signal for silence. Crossing to the empty side of her bed, he pulled back the light summer blanket and quickly got into bed next to Sophie.

Now only the sheet was between them.

Trevor wore only a white T-shirt and his pajamas shorts.

Sophie’s eyes were wide. “What are you doing?”

“We need to talk.”

“It’s the middle of the night. We need to sleep.”

“We will in a minute. I need to say some things. Lie down, turn the other way. It’s easier if you don’t look at me,” Trevor whispered.

Sophie did what he said. Trevor snuggled close to her, wrapping his arm around her waist.

“Trevor,” Sophie whispered, “you need to work on your seduction technique.”

“This isn’t seduction. This is a necessary discussion. An
enlightenment.”

“Yes, well, enlightenment is the right word. I feel like I’m in bed with the Great Point lighthouse.”

He was grateful for her good humor and her willingness to accept this spontaneous middle-of-the-night visit. He joked back, “I do have a great point.”

“I hope you enjoy it, because I don’t intend to,” Sophie responded, but not in a cranky way.

“We’ll be quiet,” Trevor promised.

“Trevor, my mother-in-law and my daughter are on the other side of that wall.”

“Sophie, I want to talk. Just talk, about us.”

Sophie flipped over, facing him. “Us? Trevor, there is no
us.
”

“Okay, that’s true, but maybe there should be.”

Sophie studied his face for a long moment. “Honey, you are undoubtedly one of the handsomest men I’ve ever met. You’re sexy and—” Sophie closed her eyes and swallowed. She started again. “I want to have sex with you, Trevor, but it would be a huge mistake.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” Trevor replied too quickly.

“Trevor, you and I are both in flux right now. Our lives are turned upside down. It’s the wrong time to start a
relationship—and
before you say anything you regret, for
me
having sex means starting a relationship.”

Trevor swallowed. “I want a relationship with you. I think we already have a relationship.”

“Please. I’m six years older than you are. I’m a much more serious person than you are. I think you and I have a different definition of
relationship.
”

Trevor pulled away from Sophie, sat up in bed, and leaned on the headboard. “Okay, it’s probably true, what you’re saying. But I don’t think it matters, the age thing. Plus, I’m not as immature as you think I am. Maybe I’m just kind of funny.”

Sophie grinned and sat up next to him. “You
are
funny and I like that about you. And oddly enough, even though I’ve known you for such a short period of time, I feel like I can trust you. So I’m going to tell you something I haven’t told many people. I’ve only slept with one man: Zack.”

“Whoa. That’s radical.”

“What can I say? I suppose I’m a freak. But I was all about the piano until I met Zack. How many women have you slept with, Trevor?”

“Um…” Trevor grimaced, trying to think of a way to downplay his life before Tallulah. “A few,” he finally admitted. “But I was always faithful to Tallulah.”

Sophie shifted around to get comfortable. “Tell me about before Tallulah.”

Trevor stared at the ceiling. “I was kind of popular in high school. I dated a lot of girls, but I never was serious with any one of them.”

“By date do you mean had sex with?”

“Yes, well, sometimes. And in college, too. I’m not ashamed of it, Sophie—I had a good time and I never hurt anyone’s feelings.”

Sophie looked over at him. “I doubt that.”

“Okay, then, I never made promises I couldn’t keep. After college, I was busy building my business, and there were a few women I saw, but they were on career tracks, too, and didn’t want to get tied down with a personal life. And then Tallulah came along.” He paused. “Then
Leo
came along and that changed everything. Come on, Sophie, you have to admit I’m a good father.”

“You are. You’re a great father. I wish I had had a father like you.”

“What was your father like?”

“Distant. Absent. Terribly important. Barely aware that I existed and not particularly excited about it. He was a physician, a scientist, concerned about prostate cancer, and I’m sure he saved thousands of men’s lives. My mother was forever telling me I should be proud of him. But it was like being proud of a shadow, a dark, looming shadow that came and went in the house with no connection to me. He died a few years ago of cancer—not prostate—and I tried to be sorry, but I had spent a lot of time attempting to have a relationship with him and then attempting not to feel like a failure because I couldn’t live up to his expectations.”

“That’s sad. I didn’t have the best father, either, although it wasn’t actually his fault. My mother is on her third husband now. She’s quite an, um,
active
personality and gets bored easily. When she married my stepfather we moved to Kansas City for a while and I didn’t get to see my dad as much, and then he got remarried and he and his wife moved to Southern California. He died a few years ago, so that’s that. But I think if he’d had the chance, my father would’ve been a good father. He always sent me birthday and Christmas presents and called me a lot and sent me money when I was in college. My mother’s second husband and I don’t keep in touch. I went to my mother’s third wedding, and I suppose I have some stepsiblings somewhere, but they’re all grown up so we’ve never tried to communicate. And Mom, well, she’s all about glamour and travel. Although she was good when Leo was born. She did come help me then and she still sends Leo presents and calls him on the phone and Skypes with him.”

“My mother’s a doctor. Emergency room doctor, busy and stressed. She’s completely dedicated to her work. She’s not very close to Lacey and Jonah because she’s either scheduled at the hospital or exhausted at home.” Sophie turned on her side again to face Trevor. “Geez, where did the traditional family go?”

“Maybe it never existed except on Christmas cards,” Trevor said thoughtfully. “I remember reading a book about settling the West. Pioneer women used to hang their kids in a bag on a nail on the wall to keep them out of the way while they did chores. I mean, they cut holes for the kids’ heads and limbs, but it wasn’t exactly all roses for the children.”

“Or for the mothers, either. No
electricity—forget
that, not even running water. It’s kind of amazing that human beings have survived as long as we have, especially if you think about disease and germs.”

“Oh, yeah, I was hoping we could have a nice conversation about disease and germs,” Trevor joked. More soberly, he added, “But if you’re a parent, disease and germs are still a big part of your life. I seem to spend one-tenth of my day telling Leo to wash his hands. If he gets an ear infection and I have to take him to the doctor’s office where all the other kids are coughing or throwing up, I want to wrap him in sterile cloth like a mummy so he doesn’t catch anything. It’s pretty terrifying, loving a kid.”

“I know,” Sophie softly agreed. “If my children knew how much I worry about them every single day, they’d think I was crazy. Maybe I am.”

“Jonah is anxious for
you,
” Trevor told her.

“What?”

“He told me the night we looked at the stars. He’s not a big fan of his father.”

“Oh, gosh, this is such a difficult time.” Sophie’s voice grew heavy with worry. “I don’t know what to do for Jonah.”

“It’s not that bad. Jonah told me he also likes a girl.”

“He does?” Sophie brightened. “Rosie?”

“He didn’t tell me her name. He said he gets all clumsy when he’s doing sports and she watches.”

“Must be Rosie. I’m so glad,” Sophie said. “Thanks for telling me, Trevor. It’s great that he can confide in you. Rosie’s a really nice girl. Oh, Trevor, it’s all so complicated. Jonah’s parents are getting divorced while he’s experiencing his first sweet love.”

“Don’t let on that I told you. I don’t know if I should have. And don’t worry. We can’t control everything.”

“Sometimes I think we can’t control
anything,
” Sophie said, and then she let out an enormous yawn.

“We can try,” Trevor said. “We could give ourselves a chance.”

Sophie gazed at his face, a soft yearning in her eyes. “Oh, Trevor.” She shook her head. “I need some time. I need—I need some sleep.”

“Right.” Trevor got out of bed and went to the door. “I’ll see you in the morning. Think about what I said.”

After Sophie heard the door to Trevor’s room close, she rolled over to where he had been sitting and buried her face in his pillow, trying to inhale any scent he might have left. She closed her eyes, embraced the pillow, and allowed herself to surrender to the astounding sensations of his body pressed against hers.

So this was lust. It might even be love. She liked him, she admired him, and every time he came into her view her heart did a happy dance. She wanted to hang a full-length poster of him on her bedroom wall. She wanted to carry a photo of him as the screen saver on her iPhone. She wanted to shackle him to her body with chains and locks. She wanted to kiss every freckle, every muscle, even the bottoms of his long, bony feet. She wanted to lie on top of him and fit her body to his, arm to arm, leg to leg, breasts to hairy chest.

Apparently she had finally, at the age of thirty-six, achieved her teenage self.

That he had not pressed her tonight when the desire between them was as strong as the moon on tides, that he had not insisted or entreated, caused her to admire and love him even more. It was one of the few times in her life when she’d resisted the imagined whispers of Aunt Fancy telling her to
go for it.

If only she had met him instead of Zack, she could have married him. Except then Leo and Jonah and Lacey would not exist.

And if she had met him when she was nineteen, he would have been thirteen. Oops.

She could not be with Trevor, not really. Not in the real world.

She forced herself to roll back to her side of the bed. Closing her eyes, she fell immediately into a delicious sleep.

It was around seven when she woke. Standing up, she went to her bedroom window and looked out over the green slope of lawn leading to the apartment. The morning light lent a soft radiance to the landscape, making it shimmer like a scene from a dream or a storybook. Could certain terrains be magical? If not, why had stories through the ages told of such places? In the apartment, Connor Swenson, who had lived all his life on a farm in Iowa, who had loved his wife and lost her to death, was beginning his own life again on an unfamiliar island. In this house, a small boy who had lost his mother to death was learning how to begin his own life again. And her own son, Jonah, fifteen years old, part dragon-slayer, part goofball, was learning how to grow into adulthood with all the emotional growing pains of his physically stretching bones and hamstrings, and he’d met a man to talk to about them, man-to-man. Sweet Lacey was having an innocent, happy summer vacation.