Page 32 of The Summer Club
Cora looked at Charley to be sure he’d heard too. “We were down at the beach. For the first-day picnic. Waiting.” But no one was listening. Just as no one had come.
“Hey, Uncle Hugh,” Molly said. “I tried some of that blue cheese you’re always talking about.”
“And?”
“And it’s as disgusting as I thought it would be.” Molly wrinkled her nose comically. “But I did like the Camembert. And the Morbier wasn’t so bad.”
Hugh grinned appreciatively. “Morbier. There’s hope for you yet, kid.”
Andi narrowed her eyes at her daughter. “I’m always telling you to try new things and you refuse! Why doesn’t Morbier ever happen with me?”
“Because you’re boring and don’t take me to cool places like Aunt Syd?” Molly flashed a wicked smile. Everyone laughed.
Cora sat back in her chair in disbelief, watching her family members like she were watching actors rehearse a scene. Who were these people? And how were they suddenly so jovial?
Nate gave them a detailed account of his recent master bathroom renovation, next door, from the plumbing to the tile choices, and Cora watched them hang on every word. “Those are some high-end fixtures,” Hugh chimed in. A surprising comment from her son, who loathed all things DIY and whom they teased endlessly for once hiring a handyman to change the light bulbs in his apartment.
As Cora listened to her children applaud Nate’s bathroom renovation choices, she began to feel more and more like an uninvited guest in her own home. Sure, Nate was charming. And the food was good. But this was too much. Last night they were outraged and bickering. Today they’d come together to boycott her beautiful beach picnic and then went to town without her. Suddenly, a TOTO toilet was captivating dinner conversation?
She looked down at her plate. The bright colors and aromas had seemed enticing, but now with each forkful she lifted to her mouth Cora found it hard to swallow. She looked up at Charley, seated at the head of the table across from her and a familiar dread settled over her. They were right back in their spots from the disastrous night before. It felt like a haunting redo, everyone all gussied up and behaving; passing heaping plates of food, pouring one sparkling glass of wine after another. Suddenly, Cora found herself dizzied by the display. Because that was all it was. A big, fat display.
Even Charley seemed momentarily caught up in it, nodding along and smiling. And it infuriated her. Cora pushed her plate away. They were going on about their vacation without her, leaving her to watch from the sidelines as some kind of punishment. And the more they seemed to enjoy themselves, the angrier she got. She stood up from the table. No one even noticed.
The slap of the screen door behind her did not interrupt their lively conversation. She headed through the kitchen, past the butcher-block island strewn with dirty plates and empty glassware, half-eaten boards of melting cheese, and browning fruit. Into the living room and right through the front door. A tear slipped from her eye and she cursed it. If only her kids knew the sacrifices she’d made for them. The reasons she had kept that secret all those years. If only they had the decency to hear her out or to ask her more about it. But no, they were holding tight to their grievances and uniting in their stubbornness. Well, so could she. Cora walked down the porch steps and down her seashell driveway. Wait, she thought. My mistake! It was Sydney’s driveway.
At the mailbox, she took an abrupt left onto Bay Street and kept walking. She’d heard from Charley that Tish was still in town. Cora pictured her holed up at Chatham Bars Inn in a fancy room. Pouring tea for herself. Tapping her bony fingers together as she considered her last line of attack. Behind her, laughter rose up on the balmy evening air. From Riptide? Were they really having that much fun with her gone? They likely hadn’t even noticed her empty seat. Well. She hoped they didn’t choke on their nice dinner.
At the end of their road was a dead-end lane that branched sharply downhill, leading to a small bayside marina. She took it, out of habit. All through the kids’ childhoods, Cora and Charley had walked with them down here. The water was quiet and shallow and it was the perfect place to while away summer hours when they were little. It was the place they’d learned to sea kayak. The place they’d come to fish off the docks and search for fiddler crabs in the seagrass along the tidal pools. Now it was the place Cora walked to on her morning strolls. Where she could sit on the edge of the dock and watch the smaller boats come in through the inlet. Where she could dangle her feet in the water and stare at her reflection. How it had changed, from the days the kids would come with her.
Now as Cora lowered herself onto the weathered boards of the dock and searched for her reflection in the water, she wondered. What did her children see when they looked at her? Was it a woman who had raised them carefully and loved them fiercely, despite the odds? Or, now that the secret was out, did they instead see a woman who had bartered with their truth? Did they have any idea of what she saw when she looked at herself: a woman who gave up on romantic love and instead traded it for another kind: the kind between mother and child. Oh, she had loved her children madly and deeply since the beginning. She sighed inwardly. If only it could have been that way with Charley.
As Cora dangled her feet over the water, a small wave of sadness came over her. The secret was out, but her kids did not know everything. There were more truths than the ones Tish had exposed.
Andi
For the first time since arriving on the Cape, she slept hard. When she finally stirred the next morning, the sheets felt crisp and cool against her bare legs and she stretched her toes to the end of the bed, reveling in the luxuriance of a good night’s sleep. Whether it was the little bit of fun they’d finally managed to have the night before, or the wine, she woke with a smile. Instantly, her thoughts turned to Nate.
The night before, her divorce had come up in conversation. Andi realized that Nate hadn’t known she was no longer married. “Oh, wow, I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be,” Andi had said, never quite sure how to respond when people expressed sorrow for her situation. “It was for the best and we’re in a good place now.”
But there was more. He’d met Molly and he’d been surprisingly good with her, talking about YA fantasy fiction and all their favorite authors.
“You read YA?” Andi had asked him and Molly had glared at her.
“Mom. We’re in the middle of a conversation.” Andi had left them to it, but the happy sense of surprise over Nate had stayed with her. Which was all new territory for Andi.
Despite her friends’ best efforts, she hadn’t dated a single guy since her divorce. At first she chalked it up to fatigue. The transition from marriage and sharing a family home to single parenting, sharing custody, and moving into her own place had exhausted her both literally and figuratively. Even when she’d finally moved into the cute little cottage by Molly’s school and unpacked the last box of kitchenwares, she was consumed by fatigue. Her therapist had warned her it would take months to feel like herself again. The truth was she was still waiting to. Then, over the spring, friends and co-workers began trying to set her up. It was innocent enough. A neighbor’s single brother. A co-worker’s cousin. All recommendations by people she knew and trusted. What was scary about that?
Everything, it turned out. Andi may have looked okay on the outside, but on the inside she was a ball of nerves. Most nights she’d awaken wondering if she’d set her alarm clock, turned off the stove, paid the electric bill. Silly things, but things nonetheless that fell squarely and solely on her shoulders now. She simply didn’t have the energy or focus that dating would require. Then there was her sense of confidence. Sure, Andi knew she was smart. And accomplished. But was that enough? She thought of a divorced single mom she knew on her old street. Sheila Drake. Sheila had lost thirty pounds, began sporting a year-round tan, and highlighted her once-dark hair to the color of Beach Barbie. Not to mention the boob job Andi knew for sure she’d gotten. You could tell from across the street. When Andi looked in the mirror she saw crow’s-feet by her brown eyes and stray gray hairs mixed among the dark. Her jeans didn’t fit the way they used to, but worse, she didn’t move the way she used to either. Gone was the spring in her step when she entered a room. The direct gaze. The easy laugh. Suddenly, Andi was unsure of everything, from whether she locked the front door at midnight to whether she’d spend the rest of her life alone. All of it left her overwhelmed. No, she was not ready to date.
But seeing Nate Becker made her wonder. Not about dating, because that was just silly. He lived in New York and she in Connecticut. They were both on the Cape for a matter of weeks. Nate was a bachelor with no kids. He had no clue what her life looked like or required of her, let alone what it would require of the man she might partner up with. But still. Nate made her wonder about small things. About what it would be like to kiss those full rhubarb-colored lips. Or to go for a walk on the beach together and slip her hand in his. To stay up all night talking, because suddenly that seemed like such an easy thing to do. Maybe her friends were right and she was finally ready. Or maybe it was all about Nate.
The light outside her curtains was not the gauzy early-morning light she was used to keeping company with; she checked her phone: 9:30! Andi sat up. She and Molly were supposed to go with Sydney to the florist to confirm centerpiece designs for the wedding. She hopped out of bed.
Across the hall, Molly was still sound asleep nestled beneath the covers. In sleep, it was the one time Molly still looked like a little girl, and Andi fought the urge to slip beneath the covers and cuddle with her. She pecked her quickly on the cheek, then roused her. “Time to get up, sleepyhead. We’ve got wedding things to do.”
Downstairs the smell of coffee permeated the cottage kitchen, but aside from Sydney, the house was empty.