Page 20 of The Summer Club
Before she reached the kitchen, the smell of freshly brewed coffee greeted her. Cora stiffened, wondering who it was that she’d now have to face. To her relief, it was just Martin.
“Morning,” he said, looking up from the newspaper at the kitchen table with a smile. Another reason she adored Martin: he still read an actual newspaper in hand, as she preferred. None of that nonsense of squinting and scrolling on a diminutive phone screen.
“Martin. I’m glad to see you.”
He waited as she retrieved a cup from the corner cabinet and made her coffee. “Did you get any sleep?” His eyes were full of empathy, which she found sweet and frustrating at the same time. Martin meant well, but she didn’t feel like talking just yet.
“A little,” she lied.
Relief flooded her when he resumed his reading. Outside the bay window, the sky promised a perfect beach day: the greatest wish of all when they reunited at Riptide. There are always rainy days and that’s fine—the Darlings are prepared with board games and cards and books to curl up with. After all, there’s nothing like an afternoon nap on a rainy shore day. But not on the first day. The first day was sacred stuff meant for the beach, the beginning of their long-awaited family vacation together. The promise of picnic lunches full of sand and brightly colored plastic pails and shovels and faded beach towels that still smell like sunscreen and salt, despite the many washings. Of digging your toes into warm sand and letting the sound of the surf wash away all the year has brought you, because here you are with your family for one more glorious summer together! It was that last promise that got her through the long New England winters; the thing they looked forward to most of all each year. At least Cora did. She had no idea if her kids did anymore.
Sydney, perhaps, but she was getting married in a couple weeks her reasoning goes beyond family. Hugh, she was pretty sure, comes more and more out of obligation. And of course, Andi. But the last few summers she’d been immersed in the slow, sad unraveling of a marriage and not quite present because of it. Cora sipped her coffee and thought of how she’d had such high hopes that Andi could take proper care of herself this summer; sleep in and laze around the beach with the pressures of the divorce finally behind her. And now this—Tish’s malicious behavior and a family’s likely undoing. Cora closed her eyes. After all those years of keeping her mouth shut, why now?
“You need to know something,” she said, so quietly that at first Martin wasn’t sure she’d spoken. He lowered the paper. “I didn’t mean to keep the secret.”
Martin’s big, brown eyes were soft. “Cora, you don’t owe me any explanation.”
“No, this is important,” she went on. She had to. It was like a dress rehearsal, because she knew she’d have to face Andi, Hugh, and Sydney soon. And they wouldn’t be calm and rational like Martin about it. Martin was Hugh’s husband. And her son-in-law. She owed him this much. “Charley and I swore we would tell the kids when the time was right. But the time never seemed right.”
Martin mulled this over. “Life keeps happening.”
“Exactly! I kept thinking, when they graduate. When they move out. But there are three of them to juggle. When one finally moves out and gets a good job, another is losing theirs. When someone gets engaged, another is getting divorced. Or having a baby. There was never a right time.” Tears pressed at her eyes. She knew she sounded hysterical, but she didn’t care. Martin reached for her hand.
“I think if you tell them that, it will help.” Martin didn’t say that they’d forgive her, but it was a start. This was good.
“How angry is he?” she asked. Hugh held things in the longest but felt the most. She’d long suspected he’d begrudge her the hardest. Another reason she’d kept putting it off.
“I can’t speak for Hugh,” Martin allowed. “But he’s upset, of course. It is pretty big news to find out midlife.”
Cora fiddled with her ring, twisting it left and right. “He must feel betrayed. Like I did this on purpose.”
And that was exactly what she did, she realized. All those years of saying nothing were, in fact, a choice. She’d once thought her prolonged silence was simply a void of decision, when actually it was a decision in itself. And a selfish one at that.
“I think you guys need to talk,” Martin said.
There was the sound of footfalls on the stairs and Sydney appeared in the doorway. Her hair was rumpled from slumber and Cora took comfort in the hope that at least one of them got some rest. “There you are! How’re you feeling?”
Sydney regarded them sleepily. “Like crap.”
Cora’s insides fell. “I’m sorry, honey.” She watched her youngest put the kettle on for tea. Unlike the rest of them, caffeine addicts each and every one, Sydney took tea in the mornings. Herbal only, no milk, no sugar. She kept a “clean” diet, she’d told her mother. How people these days deprived themselves of so much joy, Cora didn’t understand. Sydney was the picture of health and beauty, sure, but that was youth for you. Like any mother, she wanted her kids to take good care of themselves, but she also wanted them to experience joy. “Eat the cake!” she found herself wanting to shout, when dessert menus were produced at a restaurant and they all shook their heads no-thank-you. “Just wait,” she wanted to tell them. “Wait until you see what life throws at you at sixty-five: enjoy the cake while you can!”
Now as Sydney steeped her bland tea, Cora kept her mouth shut.
“Get any sleep, Syd?” Martin asked.
She joined them at the table. “Not really. I kept waking up thinking how crazy this is. That Andi and Hugh aren’t my full brother and sister.”
The ring spun faster on Cora’s finger and she stared at it, unable to look up at her daughter.
“And then I realized that as weird as this whole thing is for me, Hugh and Andi don’t even know who their real father is. I do. So how can I complain?” Sydney’s voice was earnest, filled with sadness and confusion. What a mess this was.
“It’s not a competition,” Martin told her. “You all have a right to your hurt.”
Cora put a hand over Sydney’s. “Martin’s right, honey. We kept this from you too.”
As if on cue, Hugh filled the kitchen doorway in neon orange running shoes and shorts. Cora’s insides ached as she looked at her only son. So handsome, so bright. She stood up. “Honey…”
But Hugh wasn’t having it, at least not yet. He shook his head and walked past her. “Coffee. I just want a cup of coffee, please.”