The Summer of Good Intentions (6 page)

As he turned, he spied his trash gator leaning against the couch. When he'd first seen the contraption online, he'd been struck by its apparent genius. A tool that allowed a person to pick up litter without having to bend over—
Imagine!
By pressing a slick little handle at the top, he could control the small pincher claws at the bottom. He'd even paid for the expedited two-day delivery. When the new toy arrived, Arthur had traveled all over the house, practicing picking up socks, a stray Kleenex, the
TV Guide
.

But its real purpose was to help him rid the beach of its litter on his morning walks. Each day Arthur would set out and find the sand littered with junk. It annoyed him that people felt free to sully such splendor. Most days there were abandoned beer bottles, chip bags, candy bar wrappers, even a spoiled condom. But every so often he stumbled upon a forgotten sweater, a discarded wallet with a few damp bills tucked inside, a necklace with a broken clasp, a left-behind leather sandal. Precious things worth saving. Maybe the owners of the various objects would return one day, he reasoned, and tell him how grateful they were that Arthur had saved what others might consider trash.

He grabbed his wide-brimmed hat from the closet and ambled down to the beach. Already he could feel the heat on his back. The bitter taste of coffee and eggs lingered in his mouth, and he momentarily regretted not having gargled with mouthwash. He'd stop further down the beach and reward himself with something sweet, maybe a Danish and a cool lemonade, at one of the kiosks. It was just the carrot to entice him along for the distance.

Arthur dug the gator into the sand, using it as his walking stick for balance, and looked ahead.
Always put your eyes on your destination,
he used to tell the girls.
It will help you remember where you're going and why.
It was sound advice, he thought.

Then he set off, imagining a stranger's gratitude as he began his search for treasure, eyes wide open.

“Hello?” Jess's voice rang through the hallway. “Anybody home?”

Maggie was in the kitchen fixing sandwiches for lunch while the kids played Monopoly, biding their time till their cousins arrived. Even though Maggie had begged them to hold off swimming until after lunch, both Lexie and Sophie were already in their swimsuits. Putting the dock in the first day of summer was a tradition, as was the kids' sticking their toes in the water at the same time.

Luke and the twins beat her to the door. “Aunt Jessie!” the girls yelled while Luke tackled his cousin in a bear hug.

“Hiya, Sis.” Maggie embraced her twin. “Girls, give your poor aunt a break,” she warned as each tugged on Jess's arms. Maggie bent down to kiss her niece and nephew. “I swear you guys have gotten bigger since the last time I saw you. When was it? Two weeks ago?”

“Something like that,” Jess said. “Same goes for you three.” She hugged the girls and Luke. “But not you, of course.” She turned to Maggie. “You look exactly the same.”

“Thank goodness,” Maggie said, and they shared a laugh.

A minute later, Tim came up the front steps, bags hanging off his shoulders and a large cooler in his hands.

“Where's Mac when I need him?” he joked. “Hi, everyone. You got the place all set up for us?” He leaned in to peck Maggie on the cheek.

“Mac went for a quick run. He should be back any minute.” Maggie held the door open for her brother-in-law. “Here, come on in. Girls, help the kids with their bags upstairs. You, too, Luke.”

“Then can we go swimming?” Lexie pleaded. Maggie eyed Jess to gauge whether she was ready to let the kids go in the water so soon, but Jess just shrugged.

“After you eat lunch, I don't see why not.”

“Yay!” The kids bounded up the stairs with their backpacks and suitcases. Maggie pointed Tim toward the kitchen and helped her sister with the bags.

“Come on,” she said, as she showed Jess upstairs. “There are fresh sheets on all the beds. The towels are washed and in the linen closet, so help yourselves. The water has been a little touch and go, but I think the pump is working now. Let me know if you guys have any problems with it, okay?”

When they reached the guest room, Jess smiled.

“What's so funny?” Maggie demanded.

“I love how you play house here, as if we're the boarders coming to stay at your bed-and-breakfast. You know we've been here a few times ourselves, right?”

Maggie felt her cheeks color. Here she was prattling on about things her sister already knew. “I'm sorry. I just want to make sure everyone feels at home.”

“And we do,” said Jess. “Thank you. The place looks great.” Maggie watched as her sister scanned the guest room. A vase of pink roses that she'd clipped from the backyard this morning rested on a small side table. On top of the bed lay a crisp white comforter, capped with oversize pillows. On either side of it were built-in bookcases, filled with titles like
Gift from the Sea
and
A Field Guide to the Atlantic Seashore.
Maggie flopped down on the comforter and watched as her sister transferred clothes from her suitcase.

“Ooh, that's pretty,” she said when Jess went to hang up a light blue sundress with delicate white daisies twirling across it. “When can I borrow it?”

“Don't even,” Jess teased. Fortunately, Maggie reflected, Jess's sense of style had evolved for the better over the years. When they were growing up, she'd always wanted to borrow Maggie's clothes. Not because she liked them more, but simply because Jess never took the time to shop for herself. She was too busy saving the world with Habitat for Humanity or some other humanitarian group. Funny how the tables had turned, Maggie thought. She couldn't recall the last time she'd gone clothes shopping. For herself, that is.

“Hey, I forgot to mention,” she said now. “We've closed off the downstairs bathroom till Jay can fix the window.”

“What?” Jess stopped and turned.

“The window in the downstairs bathroom is shattered,” Maggie explained. “We thought someone had broken in, but when I called Dad, he fessed up to it. Cracked the glass trying to open it. He forgot to ask Jay to fix it when he was down in May.”

“Was Dad okay?”

“He claimed to be. Said he grazed his hand on the glass.”

“Huh.” Jess seemed to consider this while she resumed unpacking, arranging multiple tubes of sunscreen on the bureau in a neat little row. “Did you get Dad the iPad?”

“Yes,” Maggie said, unable to hide the quiver of excitement in her voice. She was quite proud that she'd thought of this particular gift for their father, who had turned seventy-two a few weeks ago. Though Arthur had said he didn't want any presents, Maggie thought he'd protested a bit
too
much. Which was why she'd rallied her sisters to chip in on this newest electronic gadget. It was a useful present for a writer, she thought—one that even her father, so difficult to please, might actually like.

“That's great. Thanks. Dad will love it.”

Maggie sat up and swung her feet to the floor. “Well, I'll let you get settled while I finish up the sandwiches. I'm sure the kids are eager to go swimming.”

Back in the kitchen, Tim sat at the table, eating a turkey and cheese sandwich. His green eyes peered out from behind little wire-rim glasses. He was, Maggie decided, looking more and more like an accountant every year.

“Oh, I was saving those for the kids,” she said without thinking.

“Oops.” Tim got out through a mouthful of bread. “Sorry.”

“That's all right.” Maggie backpedaled. “I can make some more. In fact, that's what I came to do!” She reached for the butter knife and slathered mayonnaise onto a slice of whole wheat. There was no need to start off on the wrong foot with her brother-in-law. Initially, Maggie had thought Tim a good match for her more tightly wound sister. But in recent months, Jess had hinted that things had gotten tense at home. When Maggie inquired about what was going on, Jess had said,
Nothing. That's the problem.
Apparently, Tim had “checked out” from the family. Maggie couldn't say she was entirely surprised (to her eyes, Jess did all the work), but if it was true, she was sad for her sister.
All marriages go through stages,
she counseled. Jess and Tim would work things out, and life would get back to normal.

Just then, the kids breezed into the kitchen, their beach towels draped over their shoulders, looking like little conquerors. “Look at you all,” Maggie exclaimed and clapped her hands together. “So grown up.” She felt tears spring to her eyes, but Lexie stopped her in her tracks. “Mom, don't start. It's so embarrassing,” she said before dropping into a chair.

“Sorry.” Maggie turned to Tim. “Sometimes I feel like time is getting away from us, you know? Our babies growing up so fast?” She glanced at him for corroboration, but her brother-in-law stared at her, clueless. She sighed and had just begun passing out sandwiches when Mac arrived, soaked in sweat.

“Hey, there! How you doing, man? Sorry about the sweaty paw.” He went over to shake Tim's hand. Mac's face was ruddy, his hair matted on his forehead. At six foot four, her husband was a big guy, barrel-chested, and looked the part of a cop. But he'd added a few pounds over the years, and she knew he was trying to shake them this summer.

Tim gripped his hand and slapped Mac on the shoulder. “Good to see you. You're looking buff.”

“Always trying.” Mac high-fived the kids and snuck a sandwich off the tray.

“Ooh, Daddy, you
smell,
” cried Lexie as she got up and tossed her water bottle in the trash.

“Lexie McNeil!” Maggie pointed to the blue recycling box sitting next to the trash can. She was willing to let certain things slide at the summer house, but not the recyclables. With an eye roll (her daughter's favorite move of late), Lexie transferred the bottle to the blue box.
This
was the child Maggie was hoping to connect with this vacation? She had promised herself she would try to be patient with Lexie, but things were off to a dismal start.

“Duly noted,” Mac said now. “I'll hop in the shower and then we can get the dock in.”

When he headed for the stairs, he nearly collided with Jess, who had changed into her bathing suit. Black straps peeked out from underneath a pink cover-up. Jess was staring down at her cell phone, tiny frown lines hovering above her nose.

“Guess what,” she said, looking up. “That was Mom. She wants to come down to the house on Saturday.
This
Saturday. To the
Cape
house,” Jess clarified when they all stared at her blankly. “For a week,” she tried again.

“But she can't,” Maggie began, then caught herself. The kids were watching. “I mean, we won't have enough room, at least not until later this month.” Maggie realized this probably sounded cruel, but she and Gloria had already discussed it. Their mother would come down for a day visit when Virgie, the kids, and Jess were all here. Then she'd return and stay for a week at the end of July, when the house had more room. Plus—
and it was a big plus
—their dad was due at the Cape house on Saturday. There was no way on earth that Maggie was going to have both her parents sleeping under the same roof. She could see it now, her mother constantly nagging Arthur, Arthur taking it in stride. Maggie would climb the walls.

“That's the thing,” Jess continued. “Mom is staying at a bed-and-breakfast. She's already booked the room.”

“You're kidding.” Maggie couldn't hide her surprise. Gloria typically came to her first with such requests, yet she'd performed a neat little balletic twirl around Maggie's tightly crafted schedule of houseguests. Perhaps that was precisely why her mother hadn't approached her first. She knew her oldest daughter (because Maggie
had
been born three minutes and forty-two seconds before Jess) would insist she stay at the summer house while she figured something else out for Arthur. Could it be that her mother was developing an altruistic side, one that put other people before herself? Maggie thought it unlikely.

“And, get this.” Jess cast around the room. The kids were chattering away again, but Jess whispered anyway. “She's bringing someone.”

“Someone? As in a friend or as in a date?” Maggie needed clarification.

“I think it might be a date.” Jess grinned conspiratorially. “Some guy named Gio. She said she'd met him in her dance class.”

Maggie burst out laughing. The whole idea was absurd. Their sixty-five-year-old mother hitting on someone named Gio while she danced the tango?

“Hey, don't judge. He could be nice. Besides, Mom's been looking for a companion. Another senior citizen who can dance might be perfect for her.”

Maggie shook her head. She couldn't believe it. Her vision of a calm, relaxing time at the summer house was growing hazier by the minute.