Heat Wave

by Nancy Thayer

  “Hey,” she whispered. “Don’t panic. Your plane isn’t until this afternoon and you said you were pretty much packed.” Yawning, she got out of bed and pulled on her robe.

  “I’m worried about your daughters seeing us,” Wyatt said. He stood up and pulled on his suit jacket.

  She pointed. “You need to button your shirt.”

  She ran her fingers through her tangled hair and followed Wyatt as he hurried out into the hall and down the stairs. He felt in his suit pocket for his car keys and patted the breast pocket for his wallet, then nodded to himself. Clearly his mind was on the day ahead.

  “Good to go?” she asked.

  “I think I’ve got it all. I’ll call you before I leave, Carley. I’m going to call you a lot. I doubt if I can call you every day, the cell reception is probably iffy out in the woods. But I’ll try. You call me anytime, if you need to talk, if Annabel’s driving you crazy, anything.” He was less romantic and more practical, as if running down a checklist in his mind.

  “Got it.”

  He put his hands on her shoulders. “Look, I’m sorry to rush off like this. I’ll be back before you know it.” He hugged her to him tightly.

  Then he left.

  Carley stood stunned. She felt more than alone, she felt wrenched in half. Don’t be ridiculous, she told herself. You just need coffee.

  She hurried upstairs to shower and dress, then went to the kitchen. As she started a new pot of coffee brewing, she organized her thoughts. She had three rooms full of guests and her own recipe for pumpkin-cranberry-almond bread to stir up and bake. As she set to work, she felt a flush of satisfaction. She was taking control of her day. Of her life.

  35

  • • • • •

  At first, Wyatt phoned Carley every evening, to ask how her day was, to describe the challenging trails of the forested mountains. Before he hung up, he always said, “I miss you.” But as the October days briskly disappeared into November, things changed. He and his friend were roughing it with tents, backpacks, and heavy hiking gear. His phone calls became less frequent, briefer, and more casual.

  Carley kept busy. It was easy enough to do, with her daughters’ activities, helping Annabel and Russell get ready to leave, and running the B&B. She was planning for Christmas, too. She was doing everything she could to distract herself from thinking about Wyatt.

  This Saturday morning, her guests were a beautiful blond German woman named Christine and her boyfriend Andre, and two eager-beaver married couples from Boston who had come down to do everything the Cranberry Festival offered. Carley served cranberry-raspberry muffins and pumpkin-nut bread. The Boston couples ate fast and raced away, but the Germans ate leisurely, appreciating the food.

  “I like the way you talk,” Margaret shyly complimented the woman.

  “Do you? Would you like to hear us talk to each other in German?”

  Margaret’s eyes went wide. “Yes, please.”

  For a few minutes the couple spoke in German while Margaret watched in wonder, giggling, entranced. “When I grow up, I’m going to speak German!” she exclaimed.

  “Would you like to learn some German words?” Christine asked.

  “Yes, please.”

  “Here is how you say ‘hello.’ Guten Tag. It means ‘good day’!”

  Margaret tried to say it, mangling the pronunciation only slightly. While she spoke with the Germans, Carley watched Cisco, who was eating hurriedly, eager to get out to the farm.

  Carley suggested idly, “Perhaps Lexi and Jewel could join us for dinner tonight. Or sometime.”

  “Cool,” Cisco said, which was about as excited as she got over something that wasn’t a horse.

  For years Carley had simply dropped by Annabel’s house without phoning. If she was there, Annabel was always ready to drop what she was doing and have tea or a drink and a nice long chat with Carley. On Main Street, Carley slowed in front of the other Winsted house. Annabel’s Saab was in the drive. Should she go in?

  She shut off her engine, climbed out of the car, and went up to the house. As she always did, she just opened the front door and stepped inside, calling, “Annabel? It’s me, Carley.”

  No response.

  For a paranoid moment, Carley wondered whether Annabel wasn’t answering because she didn’t want to deal with Carley.

  “Hello, dear.” Annabel appeared at the top of the stairs. She was still in her robe, and her hair hadn’t yet been combed. “I’ve been lying down.”

  “I didn’t mean to disturb you.” She put her hand on the doorknob. “I’ll go.”

  Annabel came down the stairs, slowly, holding on to the banister, like someone older than her years. “Stay, please. I’m glad you came. Goodness, it’s after noon.” At the bottom of the stairs, she just stood there, blank.

  “Let’s have some tea,” Carley suggested.

  “Good. Right.” Annabel drew herself up straight but didn’t move.

  Carley went down the hall and into the kitchen. She put the kettle on, set out the teapot and cups, and checked for bread for toast.

  Annabel sat down at the kitchen table. “I haven’t been to the grocery store recently.” A wry smile crossed her face. “A fat lot of good I’ll be in Guatemala. Can’t even feed myself.”

  “Give yourself a break,” Carley suggested mildly. “I certainly spend a lot of time in bed these days.” She found a box of shortbread cookies, set them on a plate near Annabel, and sat down in the chair closest to her mother-in-law.

  “I don’t have anything to offer you as delicious as your muffins,” Annabel said. “I don’t even bake anymore. I can’t imagine how you do it all, take care of the children, bake homemade treats, and run a business. These days I don’t seem to do anything worthwhile.”

  Shocked, Carley could see that Annabel was struggling to keep her dignity. Carley busied herself with the milk pitcher and spoons. The kettle whistled and she poured the water into the teapot. Bringing it all to the table, she was stunned to see the expression on Annabel’s face. It was a terrible regret, and something about it made Carley say, “Oh, Annabel, you’ve always done so much. You’re the best.”

  Annabel huffed. “Hardly.”

  “But it’s true. You are.” She sat down, reached out, and took Annabel’s hand. “You are the best at everything, the best grandmother, wife, mother—”

  Annabel withdrew her hand gently, but when she looked at Carley, her gaze was tender. “I haven’t been a very good mother-in-law these past few months.”

  Carley didn’t object. She waited.

  “I allowed myself to care too much about the past. How things were in the past. I suppose I was too caught up in what it meant to be a Winsted.” She looked at Carley and her eyes were weary. “I apologize, Carley.”

  “Thank you, Annabel. Your opinion means a great deal to me. And as it happens, the B&B’s turning out to be a financial lifesaver.”

  “That’s good,” Annabel replied automatically, listlessly.

  Carley took a moment to gather her thoughts. She wanted to somehow compliment the older woman without opening herself to more criticism. Carefully, she said, “It’s true that Cisco wasn’t thrilled about the B&B at first. Margaret loved it from the start, but Cisco hated having strangers in the house. You were a godsend to Cisco, taking her in with you.”

  Annabel’s face brightened at the mention of her granddaughter. “I thought she needed a place to escape to. I thought she needed to leave you, but not really. I always knew she’d come back to you.” Annabel pressed her hands together and touched her lips, then confessed in a rush, “I’m afraid I love my granddaughters too much. I want to keep them both locked in my house and never let them out, never let them on the street, never let Cisco back up on one of those enormous stallions—”

  “They’re not stallions—”

  “Well, they look like it to me! That’s how I felt about my son. Especially when he was a teenager, when he learned to drive, when he started drinking and h
aving sex. Oh, sometimes, Carley, it’s all just too hard! Too frightening.” She covered her eyes with her hand. “That Gus died of a genetic heart defect—I feel so responsible.”

  “You shouldn’t—”

  “I worry even more about the girls.”

  “I never knew you felt this way.”

  “I’ve always felt this way. Thank heavens you’re such a great mother.”

  A lump rose in Carley’s throat. “I’m glad you think that.”

  “Of course I think that.” Annabel gave a rueful little laugh. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch because you opened a B&B.”

  Annabel’s language shocked Carley. “You weren’t a bitch.”

  Annabel’s mouth quirked. “Yeah, I was.”

  Neither of them had had a sip of tea yet. Carley poured both cups full, added milk and sugar, stirred, and sipped.

  Annabel said, “Oh, I needed this. Thank you.”

  “I needed this, too,” Carley replied.

  Carley woke to see a flock of the most amazing scarlet and orange birds fly across the sky past her window. She thought: I wish the birders were still here. They would flip out!

  More birds streaked past, and Carley blinked. They weren’t birds. They were leaves. She could hear the muted roar of the November wind stirring the leaves, sending them spinning. She burrowed deeper into her pillows. It was Saturday. She was manning the baked goods table at the church fair and later she was taking Margaret and Molly on a hayride.

  Cisco would spend the day at Lauren’s, riding and helping with—

  A strange and terrible thought struck Carley.

  She no longer woke remembering exactly how many days it had been since Gus died. This was good, she supposed. A sign of healing. Still, it made her feel obscurely guilty.

  Thanksgiving was held at Carley’s house that year. Annabel and Russell had to concentrate on packing for Guatemala. Carley invited Vanessa, too, since she was alone. Vanessa had decided to tell everyone she’d gotten pregnant using a sperm bank, and after everyone got over their shock that sexy, gorgeous Vanessa would need to resort to something so impersonal, they accepted it. Everyone meant Vanessa’s neighbors, the members of all the charitable organizations she was on, the minister, the mailman, and Annabel, Russell, Cisco, and Margaret, although when Carley told Margaret, she used creative metaphors.

  Vanessa offered to help, but Carley ordered her to sit and put her feet up since she was in the seventh month. Annabel and Russell came late, preoccupied with their approaching adventure. As Carley listened to them talk, she secretly thought: only a few more days until they leave. Only three more days until Wyatt is back on the island.

  36

  • • • • •

  Lauren and Frame always held a holiday party after Thanksgiving. Their basement rec room was set up for kids of all ages, with plenty of chips and eggnog and Christmas cookies, while the upstairs dining room table was laden with Lauren’s family’s special rum-plus eggnog, champagne punch, shrimp, spicy meatballs, and scallops in bacon. One of the kitchen sinks was stocked with ice and beer.

  Wyatt was due back two days after the party. Carley was sorry he wasn’t going to be there. She’d bought a dress on sale at Moon Shell Beach that made her look pretty great, even if she admitted it herself. It plunged a little in the front and a lot in the back. It clung to her when she walked, and it was scarlet. It was more than she’d ever paid for a dress, but she gave it to herself for her birthday. She’d made a resolution that she would do this every year. After all, someone had to spoil her.

  She bought her daughters new outfits, too, to wear to the party. Margaret’s was all pink, with beads and sequins. Cisco’s was white with a little white crocheted sweater. Her figure was blossoming, Carley noticed with a plunge of sadness. Her little girl was turning into a teenager. Jewel arrived, went straight to Cisco’s side, and started whispering and giggling with her.

  The party was a crush. Food and drinks were set out in the living room and kitchen and even out on the porch, where some of the die-hard smokers sneaked out and stayed out in the cold to talk. Carley leaned against the dining room buffet, chatting with anyone who squeezed through the crowd to get to the eggnog.

  “Delicious, isn’t it?” Beth Boxer asked. Beth was part of their general mommy group, a humorless woman, but a careful, loving mother. Beth wore a green silk dress completely unsuited for her olive skin, Carley noticed. Beth needed a fashion makeover. Actually, a personality makeover would help, too.

  Carley licked her lips. “Yum. I always drink way too much of it, but it’s the only time of year Lauren makes it.”

  “Don’t drink too much,” Beth cautioned. “If you gain a pound, you won’t be able to fit in that dress anymore.”

  From anyone else, this would be funny, but Carley caught the undertone of bitchiness. Before she could reply, Beth lobster-pinched Carley’s arm.

  “Look! Maud and Toby!” She was squinty-eyed with malicious glee.

  “I think Lauren invited Vanessa, too,” Carley told her.

  “What fun!” Beth snickered. “Maybe we’ll get to watch some fireworks.”

  Carley couldn’t help it. “Beth, if you want a catfight I think you’re going to be disappointed. Maud and Toby are happy, and Vanessa’s happy, too.”

  “Oh?” Beth’s voice was suddenly sweet as sugar. “I’m so glad. So you’ve talked with Vanessa. Tell me, who’s the father of Vanessa’s baby?”

  Carley dropped her head back and laughed. “Truthfully? I have no idea.” She left the eggnog table to greet Maud and Toby.

  “Happy holidays,” she told Maud, kissing her cheek.

  “Carley, what a dress! You look fabulous.”

  “So do you. Come get some eggnog.”

  Maud linked arms with Carley as they headed back to the dining room. Toby joined some men near the bar for a proper drink. More and more people were crowding into the room, so Carley had to shout to be heard and strain to hear what anyone else said. Dreadful Beth had gone into another room. Carley swooped down on a platter of smoked salmon and fixed herself a small plate. She navigated to a corner with a group of feisty older women who’d gone as a group to Europe and regaled her with hysterical anecdotes.

  She felt a touch on her shoulder.

  “Hey.” Vanessa was there in a white dress that spread over her pregnancy, making her look like a sail in a full wind. “You missed our anticlimactic scene.” She wore her grandmother’s pearls. Her dark hair swooped up, showing off heavy pearl earrings and a swan’s neck. As ever, she looked amazing, even at seven months’ pregnant.

  “Tell me.” Carley took Vanessa’s hand and led her to some chairs in the corner.

  “Actually, I phoned Toby and Maud last night,” Vanessa confided. “They each were on a phone, so I told them I wanted to go to this party, and I didn’t want to create a scene or cause Lauren any discomfort, and besides, we all live on the island, so I wanted to be civilized.”

  “Good for you, Vanessa!”

  “Well, not so very good.” Vanessa chuckled. “Toby said fine, he would like to be civilized. Maud went all gooey. ‘Oh, Vanny, I want to be more than civilized, I want to be friends again, blah blah blah.’ I said, ‘Up your ass.’ ”

  Shocked, Carley said, “You didn’t.”

  “I did. It felt so good. Maud went completely silent. Then I said, ‘Anyway, now that I’m pregnant by a man with a penis long enough to get some sperm up inside me’—Toby’s penis was perfectly fine, I just needed to get a dig in—I’m happy and willing to live in peace. So when I see you two at the party, I’m going to be pleasant, okay?” She looked back through the hall to the living room. “I just got here. I stopped and said hello to Toby, who went red when he said hello. I nodded to Maud, who crinkled her eyes up the way she does and kissed my cheek.”

  “Beth Boxer must be so depressed. She was hoping for a catfight.”

  “I’m sure she wasn’t the only one.” Vanessa readjusted her bulk on the chair
. “I never can get comfortable these days.”

  “I remember how that was. You’ve always got a little foot sticking up into your rib cage.”

  “More like a big head pressing on my bladder.” Vanessa chuckled, then held up her hand. “Don’t make me laugh.”

  “What are you doing for Christmas?”

  “Diane’s coming down from Boston. She’s never been on the island at Christmas, and she’s alone, too, so we’ll keep each other company and roast a turkey—and hit the sales after the twenty-fifth! Are you going down to your parents’?”

  “Yes. The girls can’t wait.”

  “What about your B&B?”

  “It will close for a few days, then I’ve got it booked for New Year’s Eve.”

  “New Year’s Eve.” Vanessa looked pensive. “Carley, do you ever think about other men?”

  Carley smoothed her dress over her thighs, hiding her face from Vanessa. “Oh, I guess, if I’m truthful—”

  “I need to sit down!” Rosy-cheeked and out of breath, Lauren threw herself into a chair next to Vanessa. “That’s it. No more high heels for me.” She kicked them off and rubbed her foot. “Women are so insane.”

  “This is a fabulous party, Lauren,” Carley told her friend.

  “Thanks. Secretly, I wish some people would leave. It’s too crowded, and it’s almost midnight.”

  Carley looked at her watch. “I had no idea it was so late.” She stood up.

  Lauren clutched her wrist. “Carley, don’t go! I didn’t mean you.”

  “I’ve got to get the girls home. Cisco has riding lessons tomorrow. She’ll be a bear if she doesn’t get eight hours of sleep.” Bending down, she kissed Vanessa and Lauren on the cheek. “Thanks, Lauren. See you.” She waggled her fingers at both her friends before slipping through the crowd toward the basement stairs.

  Cisco was playing Ping-Pong with Delphine. Margaret was on the sofa, watching a video with the other little kids, her eyes drooping.

  “Come on, love bug,” Carley said. “Time to go home.”