by S. C. York
“Excuse me?” Eva says.
“Well, Blake has hardly set any precedents with having a successful relationship. You are a smart girl, Eva. I hope your eyes are wide open regarding his past indiscretions.”
Blake’s eyes are stormy, he clenches the fork in his hand so tight, the veins pop out on his forearm.
“Father I assure you, I have the utmost respect for Eva.”
Jen returns to clear our plates and deliver the main course. The conversation is dropped and the rest of the dinner is awkward, but talk of the upcoming regatta at the Mystic Yacht Club makes it go by faster.
Every summer the club sponsors a race from Westerly, Rhode Island, down to Ledge Lighthouse out in the Long Island Sound. TJ always talked about it being the highlight of the year for MYC and its main event. I’ve always wanted to go, but you must be a member of the club to attend the white tent after-party under the stars.
TJ— all this talk of MYC and my mind instantly thinks of him. Neither one of us has broken the silence between us. The conversation drifts by me as they discuss the advantages of Foster’s new sail design and fabric in different wind conditions.
“Shall we head out to the patio for after dinner drinks?”
I come back to the present as Mr. Foster stands, effectively ending the meal.
Ryan escorts me outside to a courtyard off the solarium. In the middle of the flagstone patio is a square table carved from black granite with a fire burning in the center. The perimeter is made from glass and I set my drink down on it. I take a seat in one of the Adirondack chairs facing the fire.
“Are you cold, baby?”
“No Ryan, I’m perfect,” I tell him with a soft smile. Jen comes out holding a tray of drinks. She serves Eva first handing her a crystal cordial glass, then walks around giving me one.
“What’s this?” I ask her quietly.
“A dessert wine from Portugal, they make the best,” she says with a wink. She crosses back around the fire to serve Mr. Foster a low ball with a dark colored liquid than gives one to Blake and Ryan.
“What are you drinking?” I ask him when he sits in the chair next to mine.
“Cognac.”
“Is that a whiskey?”
Ryan stares at me for a few seconds then lowers his drink, “Vanessa, it’s a brandy. Cognac is an after-dinner drink most men enjoy. Please don’t take this the wrong way but you are about to start a career for a premium liquor company in a few months. You should at least have a basic understanding of the types of alcoholic drinks. Or you could end up looking dumb.” He gives his head a small shake in disbelief at my naiveté.
Bowing my head, I smooth out the fabric of my dress across my thighs eliminating invisible wrinkles.
“Hey,” Ryan says lifting my chin. “Don’t worry, sweetie, Blake has an incredible selection on the Majesty, I can give you a crash course from aperitifs to after-dinner drinks if you want.”
“Thanks. That would be very helpful. My parents don’t drink much or entertain on this level. I’ve never been exposed to this type of life. It’s strange, I’ve grown up here, driving by the Yacht Club and this neighborhood a million times, but never truly entering this world. It’s like being on the other side of a looking glass. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy with my life. I never felt like anything was missing, but now I just feel clueless.”
“Well, Ms. Lyman, we’ll have to change that especially since you’re going to be my date to the MYC’s tent party in a few weeks.”
“Seriously? That’s the one and only thing that I always wanted to go to. In high school, Eva and I used to sit in her Jeep on River Road and listen to the music float across the water as we watched couples dance under the tent on the other side. We would make up stories about them, fantasizing what it would be like to be there.”
“Vanessa, I told you when we first met, you’re more real, and more precious than a million yacht club girls. Don’t ever feel like you’re missing out on something.” He leans over and kisses the top of my head.
I stare into the fire feeling utterly content, for this one perfect moment this man is mine, and I vow to do everything right to ensure I hold onto him.
Opening my eyes, I’m confused for a few seconds. But I quickly remember where I am and I snuggle deeper under the plush comforter as the vents above us blast us with more cold air. Sensing I’m awake, Ryan nuzzles the skin behind my ear with his nose.
“Vanessa? Do me a favor and talk to Eva. She’s your best friend, and you’re my girlfriend, so—”
“Wait. Back up and call me your girlfriend again.” I’m fully awake now and roll over to face him.
“Yes, you are. I spend every minute texting, calling, or thinking about you,” he slides his hands in my hair, pulling me close for a long, hot kiss.
“What did you want to ask me, Ry?”
“Just talk to Eva for me. I’ve never seen Blake want to be in a relationship with anyone. If he does screw up tell her to go easy on him. I think he likes her,” he says while sliding my t-shirt up over my head. Bending down, he suckles each nipple in his mouth going back and forth between the two. His tongue swirls and tugs on my areola as his finger works in and out of me. I moan into his ear, “I’m ready for you!”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely, don’t stop.” I reach down and put my hand on his hard length. It’s smooth and impressive. This time, he is the one who moans. Writhing on the bed, we free ourselves from the sheets, and he reaches the nightstand drawer and pulls out a Trojan Magnum.
“I’m clean, and I get the birth control shot.”
He moans again and puts the condom down. Sliding between my thighs I feel his thick girth penetrate. It feels so good stretching into me as he thrusts in. The sex is hot and intense as Ryan drives into me slow but forcefully. My body moves up the bed with each thrust. We get lost in each other then fall asleep. The sound of his iPhone buzzing on the nightstand wakes me up and he slaps a hand out to feel for the phone.
“Goddammit!” He shouts reading the message. He bounds out of bed and slams the door to the bathroom.
“What the hell just happened?” I whisper into the empty air he just occupied, that still smells of us.
I hastily put on a pair of shorts and throw on a tank top. Heading up to the sundeck I hope some fresh morning air will clear my head. No one else is up yet so I lie back on the plush lounger trying not to take what Ryan just did too personally.
“Here you go,” I sit up and eagerly take the iced coffee Jen hands me.
“What are you…the coffee fairy? How did you know I needed this?”
“Ryan buzzed me from your stateroom, and ordered it for you.”
I take a long sip through the straw, instantly feeling better about what just happened.
“Thanks, Jen.”
“No problem,” she says and heads back inside. Looking out into the horizon I see nothing but open water. Sometime during the night we left Stonington. Having no idea where we are heading, I sit back and finish my coffee.
“Good morning,” Blake says in greeting but doesn’t look me in the eye as he sits across from me. I feel slightly uncomfortable around him. Even though I’ve been spending a lot of time on his boat, we haven’t conversed much alone. He’s Ryan’s best friend and now Eva’s boyfriend, so I probably should make more of an effort to get to know him.
“Thanks for having me onboard, again.”
“It’s nothing, Vanessa, my pleasure.”
“So, how do you think last night went with your dad? He’s a tough one, huh.”
“Yes, my father has high standards.”
“Well, I think Eva passed with flying colors.”
“I wasn’t referring to her.”
“Ah, I thought he was unfairly harsh to you.”
“Vanessa, I deserve it. He has looked the other way too many times while I self- destructed.”
“Self-destructed? I never thought that. Even before we met, I knew who you were. It’s st
range, we grew up only ten miles apart, but worlds away.”
“I went through a very rough patch last year, and I went too far. I know you think that I have everything, but sometimes my life feels empty.”
“Well, even though I have both my parents, I struggle with my mom. She runs hot and cold. Sometimes I walk on eggshells not knowing who she will be on any given day.”
He smiles, “I know what you mean. Vanessa, I can’t tell you enough how much I appreciate you and Eva. It’s comical, girls who have grown up with money turn out to be the gold diggers, not you or Eva. I feel like I can finally relax with you both. Ryan’s right, it is refreshing.”
I smile at his compliment gripping the rail next to me as we roll over a large wave. It suddenly occurs to me that he is out chatting with me while The Majesty charges on.
“Who’s driving the boat, Blake? Do yachts have an auto-pilot or something?” I ask confused.
“Well, this yacht does have an auto-pilot, but I hardly use it. It’ll chart a course but steering through changing waters is best done by hand, with an experienced captain.”
“So who’s up there…Eva?” I joke.
“TJ.”
“What?” I sputter.
“He boarded late last night, and then we got underway. Eva told me what happened last weekend and I feel terrible for my role in it. I am truly sorry if what I said to him contributed to your panic attack. It’s just that…Ryan— I’m not used to sharing him. He’s been a brother to me. I probably ran my mouth to TJ out of jealousy.”
“The King of Mystic, jealous of me, Vanessa Lyman? No worries I’ll make sure you and Ryan still get guy time.” He shrugs and puts on a pair of aviators with reflective lenses, shielding his eyes from me as we continue talking.
“Yes, well, I wanted to facilitate you and Eva making amends with TJ. He’s a cool guy, and I don’t want what I did to spoil anyone’s summer.”
I get up, giving him a quick hug. He tenses, feeling uncomfortable by my show of gratitude. Well, this is who I am, better get used to it.
“I’ve arranged a private lunch for you, TJ, and Eva while I take Ryan for some deep-sea fishing.”
“Guy time already?”
“Yep.”
“So where are we headed today?”
“Montauk.”
“I’ve never been, but I’ve always wanted to see it.”
“You’ll have a few hours when we dock. I rented a sport fishing boat for the day. Hopefully, Ryan will like it.”
“What are you planning on catching?”
“Sharks.”
I shudder and sit back, shaking my head. I’ll never understand men and their constant pursuit of an adrenaline rush.
“I better head back up to the bridge. Did you bring any work clothes? We can stay later on Long Island and cruise back overnight. Ryan was planning on leaving Stonington at five a.m. to make it to his office on time.”
“I’ll figure something out,” I tell him, not wanting to waste a second I can spend here, onboard, living my summer of dreams.
Everything’s clicking into place. Ryan and I talk an hour or more on the phone every night and text each other throughout the day. The past few Friday nights, Eva picks me up after work and we drive into Stonington Borough joining Blake on board the Majesty. Ryan usually arrives around eight and we depart. Blake takes us cruising around the Long Island Sound for the weekend, stopping at Watch Hill, or Long Island. Other times we just moor offshore, and TJ joins us when he can. I’m so relieved to have made up with him.
The MYC’s white tent gala is this weekend and I don’t own anything suitable besides the gown Ryan bought for me on Block Island. I know it’s vain, but I want to wear something he hasn’t seen me in yet. It’s only Wednesday so I still have time to find a formal gown. Jogging up the front steps finishing my run, I rush straight into the kitchen for a glass of ice water.
“Vanessa, do you have plans tonight?”
“No, Mom, I thought I’d stay here with you and Dad.”
“Well, thank you for finally gracing us with your presence,” she says snippily. Rolling my eyes at her I refill my glass.
“When will I get to meet the man my daughter’s been sleeping with?”
Sputtering on my water at her frankness it takes me a moment to stop coughing.
“Never,” I reply. Trying to avoid her, I open the fridge assessing my dinner options. She slams the door shut and gets in my face waving a finger at me, “Are you embarrassed by us? Can’t bring your wealthy Boston boyfriend to our house?”
“Well, your collection of ceramic Siamese cats is mildly disturbing.”
“Vanessa, they are collectibles. Worth a lot of money, in fact, I saw some on—”
“Antiques Roadshow?” I finish for her.
“Hmmpff,” she says stomping her foot.
“Mom, I’m just teasing. Ryan can’t take any more time off. He’s coming this weekend but we’re going to be busy. I’m his date for the tent party.”
“Oh my,” she says putting a hand on her heart. “That is exciting. I hope you get photographed for Coast and Country. I can’t wait to bring the next issue to my Tai chi class and show all my friends.”
“I know. Eva and I are going back to the second-hand boutique downtown to find gowns. Wait. Since when are you taking a Tai chi class?”
“Oh, Vanessa, it’s so relaxing. The meditation has been helping my nerves a lot.”
“Yeah, I can tell.”
“You girls can’t go back to that store in town for your dresses, though. Oh no, you can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Vanessa, you’ll probably end up buying a gown that was worn last year. Where do you think all those designer clothes come from that you find in that store?”
“Good point, Mom, I never thought about that. What am I going to do? It’s three days away?”
“Call in sick tomorrow. I’ll take you and Eva down to Fairfield County. The people there have more money than Hollywood. It’s full of investment bankers and their wives, between Westport and Darien there are more than a few consignment boutiques. I promise the dresses there will be spectacular.”
“Mom, I can’t call in sick. Besides, Eva and I can’t pay second-hand prices in Darien. Even at a discount, it’ll still be too expensive for us.”
“Vanessa, this qualifies as an emergency in my book. Since you’ve spent every weekend on Blake Foster’s love boat, you haven’t even searched for an apartment. We need to get to Stamford and find a place for you to live. It’s only twenty minutes from Darien, we could make a day of it.
Besides, I’ve been working some extra shifts. If my daughter and her best friend are going to the party of the year, they will go in style. I’d be happy to help you and Eva pay for gowns.”
I shake my head both surprised and pleased, “Mom, are you sure?” I stare at her in shock. She’s never been this generous before. I hope she sticks with Tai chi.
“Absolutely! Imagining you dancing away at that party makes even me feel young again.”
“Thanks, Mom, I really appreciate it.”
“I never thought I’d ever hear you say those words,” she responds clapping her hands.
It’s exactly how I imagined it would be. As much as I’ve heard about the club I’ve never actually been inside. The Mystic Yacht Club sits on the hill as if it rules over the town. Maybe it does. Only the local elite mix inside the stone walls of this Tudor-style building. I notice there seems to be a distinct hierarchy. In the center of the room, Blake and Charles Foster welcome everyone as if this was their house.
I smile at Eva across the room. She stands proudly, flanked by the Foster men on either side. This is her moment. Eva Cruz, Queen of the MYC, even if it’s just for tonight. She’s untouchable in her white Grecian-style dress and her hair twisted back with a few tendrils escaping.
Ryan leads me over. I’ve never felt more glamorous winding through the crowd in my black Chanel evening gown. It’s
a few years old but classic in its design. My mom paid what would be about two month’s rent on it, but she assured me the dress would be useful for years to come.
“Vanessa, you look stunning,” Mr. Foster greets me warmly, kissing both of my cheeks. Blake greets me in the same manner. I share a look with Eva, in disbelief that this is our life now.
I take it all in, looking around the room encased with dark wood paneling. Photographs of sailboats racing across the Sound adorn the walls. The large hall is lit with soft sconce lighting. Above us a massive chandelier hangs. I notice a second-floor balcony where Blaire and Carter stare down at us with obvious envy—at the two townie girls with the Fosters holding court.
“Can I get you a drink, Vanessa?” Ryan asks.
“A Riesling?”
“Vanessa, may I suggest something else for you? Riesling is typically a dessert wine.”
“Oh, okay, just make sure whatever you order me is a white wine.”
He looks down at me and shakes his head for the second time.
“Never order a white wine, always ask for a specific type like a chardonnay, pinot grigio, or zinfandel.”
“Why?”
“It’s more sophisticated than what you just said.”
Looking down at my toes, I try not to get angry. I know he didn’t mean to but sometimes he makes me feel inadequate when we are in simple situations, lecturing me on what the correct thing to do or say is. He comes back holding a large glass of white wine.
“It’s a Napa chardonnay,” you’ll like it. I nod and hold onto the glass like a lifeline.
“It’s time to be seated, shall we?” Blake announces and leads us outside to the white tent, where about forty tables are ready for their guests.
Beautiful blue hydrangea centerpieces sit in white vases with the MYC logo and the glassware reflects the tea lights on the tables. On each of our plates sits a small wooden sailboat napkin holder. Large bulb string lights line the roof of the tent, no wonder it always looked like it was glowing from afar. Our seats are at the head table, of course, since Charles is a top patron here.