Same Beach, Next Year

by Dorothea Benton Frank

  Eventually, my hands grew cold, and finally every trace of day disappeared. I was freezing in the forty-degree weather. The skies above me began to twinkle as the stars came out of hiding.

  I turned to go back inside and noticed that a few lights were on in Carl and Eve’s place. Who was there this time of year? Surely not renters. I walked across our shared terrace to see if I could see anyone through the sliding glass door. I wasn’t like a Peeping Tom or something. Just curious. A friend with a proprietary sense of duty, that’s all. I mean maybe kids had broken in or something. Maybe kids were in there drinking or doing drugs or filming a porn movie. Who knew? Maybe it was Carl with that hot little nurse who was making Eve so paranoid. Whoever it was would give me a legitimate excuse to call Eve and report it. Eve had called me again. She was convinced Carl was having an affair. To be honest, we were sort of always looking for an excuse to talk to each other. The idea of talking to Eve fueled my determination to see just who was in their condo and exactly what the hell was going on.

  This is what friends are for, I told myself as I crept up to the building and positioned myself ever so carefully on the edge of the sliding glass door against the siding made in China that probably caused a rash on contact. I could make out the bluish light of a television screen. Peering in more closely I saw that an old movie was playing. Oh, for the love of Pete. Someone was watching Love Story, with those two morons who said love means never having to say you’re sorry. Good grief! What bullshit is that? The first thing I say in the morning is I’m sorry!

  “Good morning, sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

  “Good morning, sweetheart. You should be.”

  Then I say it about another hundred times more a day. Okay, maybe not. Maybe I should, because Eliza always nails me for every little infraction, but I’m not going to say I’m sorry every time I do something she doesn’t like. That would make me wrong all the time, and I couldn’t live with that. And it would be further confirmation that she’s right all the time and I couldn’t live with that either. Currently Eliza had too much time on her hands. She had nothing better to do than think up shit she wasn’t happy about. Or adding things to her bucket list. Now she wanted to rent a sailboat and sail from island to island around Greece! And who had the time? Me? I was so busy I could hardly think straight. I just signed a contract to build another hundred homes! And her latest deal was that she wanted a YouTube channel so she could offer cooking videos. She wanted to teach the world how to make chicken fricassee! Was she kidding? I didn’t even know what that was! Make videos? For who and why? And how much would that cost? Listen, between us? I thought she had arrived at that time in life when women feel old, but I was keeping my mouth shut on that one.

  So, who was in Eve and Carl’s condo? I thought, bringing myself back to the situation at hand. I peeked in through the glass door again. Whoa! Whoever was on the sofa was getting up! I jumped back, plastering myself against the building once more, inches away from being discovered. Wait a minute, I told myself. You’re not the criminal here! The person with the lousy taste in film is the one in trouble! Not me. So I took a step forward and looked squarely through the door just as the person inside turned to face me wearing some terrible-looking flimsy bathrobe and a lopsided shower cap. She screamed bloody murder loud enough to wake the scores of dead pirates buried on every island in the Atlantic Ocean.

  “Aieeeeeeeeee!”

  It was Eve!

  “Eve! It’s me! Adam! It’s okay!”

  She screamed again anyway, I guess just to be sure I wasn’t lying. Finally, she stepped back and took a deep breath. Then she came forward and opened the sliding glass door.

  “Sweet baby Jesus! You scared the life out of me, Adam Stanley.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Just what the hell are you doing on my terrace in the dark staring through the door like a pervert?”

  “I saw lights on and I wanted to be sure everything was okay with your property.” I looked hard at her. She’d been crying. And she smelled like alcohol. “Um, are you okay?”

  “Sure. I’m just fine. Fine and dandy. Would you like a glass of wine?” she said.

  “Sure. Why not?”

  She pulled off her shower cap, her blond hair tumbled down her shoulders like filaments of gold, and she stood aside to allow me to cross the threshold. God, she was sexy.

  “I’ve already had three,” she said. “I was just going to take a shower and go to bed.”

  “It’s only seven o’clock,” I said.

  She looked at me as if to decide whether I thought three glasses of wine before seven o’clock was too many or did I think seven was too early to go to bed?

  “Adam? Are you judging me?”

  “Who, me? Hell no! Where’s Carl?”

  “That son of a bitch?”

  “Yeah, that son of a bitch.”

  “He’s, he’s, he’s . . .”

  And then she burst into tears and started to weep. She literally fell into my arms crying like a baby.

  “Oh, God. What’s happened? Eve? Talk to me.”

  But now she was sobbing, great big convulsive sobs. Blubbering sobs. Ugly crying. I wasn’t good with this kind of thing. I pulled her into me, into a solid embrace, rubbing her back to console her. Maybe Carl was dead. Or dying.

  Finally, she said in a whisper, “I came here to end it, Adam. I can’t take it anymore.”

  “End what? What are you talking about?” She didn’t mean to end her life, did she?

  “My marriage is over.”

  “What the hell are you saying?”

  “Adam, I’m a terrible failure as a mother.”

  “Don’t say that! Daphne is a lovely girl!”

  “No, she’s not. She’s a lying slut! She got kicked out of school for sending lewd pictures of herself to one of her professors to get an A.”

  “Oh, come on now! That’s not so terrible. All the kids do that these days.” Did they? Who knew? It was terrible. Good grief.

  “Yes, it is! It’s really terrible. And I have never done anything except disappoint Cookie.”

  “Eve? Let’s be honest. Who could please Cookie? She’d find fault with the pope himself! He’d come to dinner and bring baked ziti and she’d hate it! She’d hate the pope’s baked ziti! She’d tell him it tasted like dog shit. Believe me! I’ve given this a lot of thought! Years, in fact.”

  No trace of a smile. I thought she’d see humor in the truth of that, but she didn’t.

  “But she’s my mother! Shouldn’t your own mother at least fake it that she’s proud of you for something?”

  “Not necessarily. Not if she’s always unhappy. Cookie’s not too happy with herself, now is she?”

  “No. She’s a total misery. She always has been. And Carl is definitely not in love with me anymore. He’s sleeping with one of his nurses. I have proof. I finally have proof.”

  “Oh, who cares, Eve? I mean, really, who cares if he’s screwing all of them?”

  “What do you mean? He’s my husband!”

  “He cheats at golf, Eve. That’s the lowest of the low.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, but who cares? He has other redeeming qualities. Listen, can we go back to Cookie for a minute?”

  “Sure, but why?”

  “Because I’m gonna explain this whole thing to you. It’s her jealousy that’s at the bottom of everyone’s unhappiness. Don’t you know that?”

  “I don’t know what I know anymore.”

  I led her over to the couch and made her sit down. Then I took an empty goblet from the bar cart, poured myself a glass of wine, and took a long look at her. Even in this pitiful state, she was still the most beautiful woman I had ever known. I took several long sips. She took another drink from her glass.

  “This started a long time ago, Eve, before you and I ever met. But when we did finally meet Cookie saw something in our relationship that she’d never have and she couldn’t stand it.”

  “What?”r />
  “Real love. Genuine, honest-to-God love.”

  “She wouldn’t know what love looked like if it was standing right in front of her and bit her on the nose. She was unhappy during my entire childhood. She cried every single night. My father finally dumped her for someone else, and I never saw him again.”

  “No. Your father dumped her because living with her made him miserable. Guaranteed. No man goes through the hassle of a divorce if he’s happy at home. I’m going to guess that alcohol probably brought on her depression. The fact that another woman was there in the wings is almost immaterial.”

  “So, you think that she destroyed us because of her wounded pride?” she said.

  “Absolutely.”

  “But did she succeed?” Eve asked.

  “I’d say not completely, right?”

  “We are in each other’s lives anyway,” Eve said. “And I still love you.”

  “And I love you, Eve. I always have and I always will.”

  It was the most natural thing in the world to say. There. At last it was out in the open. I sat down on the sofa and pulled her over next to me. I put my left arm around her and she leaned into me the exact same way she used to so many decades ago. It would’ve been so easy to let that robe slip. I knew I was crossing a line of propriety, because I would never have done this if Eliza was in the room. Not in a million gazillion years. And this had nothing to do with Eliza. Eve was a whole other situation. Eliza was my wife. I loved them both. Just differently. But at last there was honesty between us, and that seemed to excuse me for stealing a moment. I mean, it’s not like I had her legs in the air.

  “Oh, Adam. I’m so exhausted. I’m so tired of Carl’s lies.”

  I was still having a hard time getting my brain wrapped around the idea that Carl would cheat on Eve. It just didn’t ring true. He might have given himself a few strokes on the golf course, but I’d always thought that was because he couldn’t stand to lose. Not because he was a womanizing lowlife.

  “Cookie probably pushed you up the aisle to marry Carl. Am I right?”

  “He’s a doctor. She thought he could give me a certain status. And I was pregnant.”

  “Please. That’s a topic for discussion another time. I’m going to guess she didn’t even care if you loved Carl. She only wanted you to not love me.” I leaned forward, refilled my wineglass, and took another sip. Somehow, I was making the occasion about Eve and me instead of Eve and Carl. But the question of Cookie’s motivations had bothered me for years. This was as good a time to ask as any. Eve then took the glass from me and drained it. I was impressed. “If you got married and had a baby, in her mind, you’d be taken care of forever. That’s how women of her generation used to think. Your happiness was never part of the equation to her.”

  “Carl only married me because I was pregnant.” Eve yawned and put her head in my lap.

  “Well, I don’t agree with that. He loves you, Eve. He does.”

  “Carl loves medicine. He loves being a doctor. He loves the adoration of his patients.”

  “Show me one that doesn’t,” I said. “But that still doesn’t mean Carl doesn’t love you. And I don’t think he’s screwing his nurse.”

  That’s what I said, but what I was thinking was something entirely different. All things being equal? If I wasn’t screwing Eve—and I’d had a lot of opportunities over the years to do it—then there was no way Carl was screwing his nurse. Thinking about having sex and actually doing it are two completely different categories.

  We were quiet then for a while and I realized Eve was fast asleep. I should’ve jostled her and sent her to bed. I should’ve disengaged, substituted a pillow for my lap, and gone home. I did none of those things. I looked at her. She was absolutely angelic. I loved having her close to me so much that I put my head back on the sofa and went to sleep as well.

  The next thing I knew it was morning and I was being yanked off the sofa and held by the front of my shirt, looking into the angry face of my good friend Carl. Yes, that son of a bitch had his fist drawn back and aimed at my jaw.

  “Stop!” Eve screamed.

  “Hey! Wait!” I managed.

  “I can’t believe that my good friend Adam is screwing my wife! You fucking asshole! I ought to rip you to pieces!”

  “Stop!” Eve screamed. “Stop it right now!”

  “Shut up, Eve.” Carl looked at me with the face of a madman. “If I had a gun, I’d blow your fucking brains out!”

  “Carl! Nothing happened! Adam didn’t even touch me!”

  “She’s telling you the truth, Carl,” I said. “Listen to her.”

  “I came here because I found all the sexy text messages from your trashy little nurse. I’m leaving you, Carl. You can have her!”

  “What? You mean Shonda?”

  The screaming and the accusations went on for a while. Meanwhile, Carl stood over me, my shirt twisted into his fist, which was approximately the size of a ham.

  “I wouldn’t touch that filthy little whore! I’ll fire her this afternoon! She’s nothing but a crazy gold-digging bitch desperate for another husband.”

  “Swear to me you’re telling me the truth!” Eve shouted.

  “I swear it on a stack of Bibles!” Carl shouted back. Then he looked at me and eased his grip on my shirt slightly. “You swear to God you’re not screwing my wife?”

  “I swear it on my mother’s grave! I’m screwing my wife! Whenever she will let me, that is. Truth.” But I could’ve had Eve’s clothes off in about two minutes, I thought. Boy, talk about a missed opportunity.

  “Then just what the hell are you doing here on my sofa?” Carl asked.

  “That’s a legitimate question,” I said, racking my brain for a plausible excuse.

  Eve stepped up quickly on my behalf. “He was here telling me that you loved me and that there was no way you were being unfaithful to me. That’s the truth, Carl.”

  “You were?” Carl said to me. “You swear?”

  “I already told you nothing happened between us,” I said, deciding a dollop of self-righteous indignation was appropriate. “You want to let go of my shirt now?”

  He released me, and in the back of my mind I knew I had escaped some serious hurt that I probably—no, definitely—deserved.

  “Adam, I came here looking for my wife. Suffice to say, I am not happy about what I found when I got here. Let’s leave it at that for now,” Carl said.

  “We’ve been friends for a long time,” I said. And if I were in his shoes, I’d be pissed too.

  There was a knock on the sliding glass door and we all turned as if on cue to see who it was. There stood Eliza. She was not going to like this story.

  The door slid open.

  “I brought a picnic for us, Adam,” she said with a furrowed brow. “I drove back late last night from Duke because I wanted to surprise you. But it looks like you all started the party without me. What exactly am I interrupting?”

  chapter 11

  eliza’s fury

  There was no answer from any of them. I turned around with all the dignity I could muster and walked out, leaving them all standing there startled and embarrassed. My mind was spinning. I didn’t know what to do and I didn’t know what to say and I didn’t know what to believe. What had I walked in on? How was Adam going to explain this? What did happen? I’d never forget the look on Eve’s face, that was for sure. She looked terrified to see me. But her fright seemed extreme if nothing had really happened between her and Adam. Maybe nothing happened. Maybe something did. But she looked as guilty as hell, and so did Adam. And she wasn’t wearing any underwear under her robe. There was no panty line or bra strap. I was going to get to the bottom of this, and it wasn’t going to be comfortable for anyone.

  Adam followed me back to our condo almost immediately. I was standing in the middle of the living room, facing him, when he came in.

  “Eliza,” he said, “we have to talk.”

  “Really?” I was fuming with an
ger and devastated simultaneously.

  “I know it looked bad back there, but it was nothing.”

  “Really? Because, you know, Carl didn’t look too happy either.”

  “Just listen to me. I can explain everything.”

  “Go right ahead. Explain.”

  “Okay, so I got here last night after I went to Lowe’s and picked up some drawer pulls. I remember I popped open a beer and went outside to look at the sunset. And you know this week has been extremely busy for me. I was either in my office at home or on a job site fourteen hours every single day.”

  “Maybe you were. Maybe you weren’t.” So, what if he was? It wasn’t like he punched a clock. He worked for himself!

  “Come on! Bear with me here for a few minutes. So, while I was outside I noticed that lights were on in Eve and Carl’s place. I wondered who could be there this time of year, so I went over to see. You know, maybe kids broke in and were drinking all the booze or something.”

  “Sure.” I knew I sounded sarcastic and I didn’t care.

  “Well, it wasn’t kids. Eve was in there watching Love Story, of all the horrible movies ever made in the history of Hollywood.”

  “So?” I thought, Now you’re a movie critic?

  I noticed tiny beads of perspiration on Adam’s forehead and top lip. Good. Sweat, you son of a bitch.

  “Well, I almost gave her a heart attack. She started screaming like I was a burglar or something. And that is the funny part.”

  “Uh-huh. So far this is a riot. Am I to believe she was surprised to see you?”

  “Yes. She was surprised to see me. That’s why she was screaming.”

  “Okay, so?” I knew better. Adam knew Eve was coming because she had probably called him to tell him so. We’d been through this before.