That Summer Place: Island TimeOld ThingsPrivate Paradise

by Susan Wiggs

Lorraine phoned Nikki once a month, but his daughter had been rude and unreceptive. John hadn’t encouraged or discouraged her regarding these conversations. He figured Nikki had to make her own peace with her mother—but he didn’t plan on smoothing the road for his ex-wife. In fact, he’d secretly been pleased that Nikki continued to reject Lorraine’s overtures.

  In that moment he realized how wrong he’d been. How selfish and vindictive. Nikki needed her mother, needed Lorraine’s love, and instead of helping her, he’d focused solely on his own anger and sense of abandonment.

  He’d been thinking of himself, not his daughter. He’d been wallowing in his misery, collecting petty victories against Lorraine, when he should have put all that aside and concentrated on Nikki.

  The realization hit him like a physical blow.

  “Dad?” Nikki hesitated. “Are you okay? You’re wearing a funny look.”

  “You’re beautiful,” he said, and meant it. His daughter, green hair and all, strongly resembled Lorraine. In his pain he’d tried to ignore the similarities between them; doing that, he’d hurt Nikki. No wonder the girl did outrageous things to her hair. While he’d never openly said anything about her looks, Nikki knew. It was her mother’s face she saw in the mirror every morning.

  Somehow, he knew he had to hug her right then. Without warning he pulled her into his arms and squeezed hard.

  “Dad,” she protested, “you’re going psycho on me.”

  “I love you, Nikki.”

  “Because I painted my toenails with Beth?”

  “No.” He chuckled. “Because you’re so damn beautiful.”

  She hugged his waist tight and said in a whisper, “I look just like Mom.”

  “No.” He lifted her face so she could see into his eyes when he spoke. “You look like Nikki Lynn Livingstone, my beautiful, beautiful daughter.”

  A hesitant smile appeared on her lips. “You’re acting pretty weird, Dad.”

  Laughing, he swung her up in his arms the way he had when she was a little girl and whirled around while she screamed with delight.

  The next time Lorraine phoned, John decided, he’d urge Nikki to speak to her. Whether Lorraine loved him or not wasn’t the issue; it never had been. Nikki needed both her parents.

  “Nikki,” Paul yelled, “are we playing Nintendo or not?”

  “Playing,” she yelled, and broke out of John’s embrace, but not before she’d thrown him a wide jubilant smile.

  The two kids raced upstairs and John returned to the Explorer for the picnic basket. He carried it into the kitchen and found Beth at the sink with her back to him.

  “Anyplace special you want me to put this?” he asked.

  “Anywhere’s fine,” she said, but she didn’t sound like herself.

  “Beth?” he asked. “Is everything all right?”

  She reached for a tissue and loudly blew her nose. “It’s nothing.”

  A part of John yearned to accept her explanation and leave it at that, but he’d been married long enough to know better. “Obviously something’s troubling you,” he coaxed in gentle tones.

  She shrugged. “I’m sorry. It’s foolish, I know.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “Just now…when Paul was driving…” She turned toward him and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “He’s growing up, John. My little boy isn’t a little boy anymore.”

  This seemed to be the day for insights, John mused.

  “Soon he’ll be a man. An adult. He starts high school next month. He’s going to have his driver’s license next year.” She walked over to the breakfast nook, sat down and buried her face in her hands.

  Feeling completely at a loss, John opted for the practical. He brought her a box of tissues and sat down across from her.

  Beth sniffled a couple of times and he stretched across the table and patted her hand. He wished he knew how to comfort her.

  After a couple of minutes, she offered him a watery smile. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what? Being human?”

  “It’s just that…” She grew silent as if she regretted having said anything.

  “Just what?”

  Abruptly she stood, walked to the kitchen island and leaned against it. “His dad would never have driven around the driveway with Paul. Thank you for that.”

  Her look held his and he watched as fresh tears filled her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks.

  “Beth?” Something was going on inside her, some deep emotional pain. He recognized the look, the hurt. “What is it?” he asked softly.

  “My husband…” She paused and drew in a stabilizing breath, and when she spoke her voice was low and hoarse. “I know how you felt when your wife left you. I’ve experienced that kind of pain, too—all the doubts, the questions. I know, because Jim was having an affair at the time of his death.”

  John frowned, unable to believe that any man married to Beth would do such a thing.

  “I’ve never told anyone—not even Mary Jane. I couldn’t, not when Paul idolized his father. I refuse to destroy his memories of Jim, so I’ve kept this secret to myself.” She covered her mouth with her hand, obviously struggling with her pain. “I loved him, I swear I did, so very much. Deep down I knew about…her. But I chose to look the other way for fear of what would happen if I confronted him. I…I didn’t want to face the truth, because if I did, I’d have to make a decision, and I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. I didn’t know what to do. His betrayal turned me into a woman I didn’t know I could be. Blind and stupid and angry, so incredibly angry…”

  Her pain was like his own. It felt impossible not to hold her. He wanted to take her into his arms the way he had on the beach; he’d ignored that desire as best he could, but now the effort was futile. As always, any words of comfort abandoned him, so all he could do was act.

  He stood and pulled her to him. They clung to each other for long minutes. A deep sigh lifted his chest, and John felt as though his own pain, his own disappointment, had eased. Strange as it sounded, hearing of her pain had somehow diminished the sharpness of his. Still, his thoughts were muddled and confused; there was nothing logical about any of this. He didn’t know whether he’d released himself from his grief because Beth, in her agony, needed him. Or because his feelings for her allowed him to put past hurts and betrayals aside, to see them from a new perspective.

  When she finally looked up at him, he did what he’d promised himself he’d never do again. He took her face between his hands and kissed her.

  She moaned a welcome and her lips parted as her arms crept up and around his neck.

  His kiss turned hungry, urgent. He didn’t court or coax her lips, nor was he gentle with her. The need in him was too great to restrain. After more years than he wanted to remember, he was greedy for a woman’s tenderness. Greedy for her warmth and passion. Eager to show her how she’d touched his heart, eager to ease the ache from hers if he could.

  Then it came to him. The understanding that he couldn’t continue with his life, couldn’t trust and love again, until he’d forgiven Lorraine. Knowing Beth had made that clear. Slowly, gradually, that awareness had grown in him. He needed to forgive Lorraine, for his own sake and for Nikki’s. He needed to build bridges to the past—and to the future.

  It cost him everything to break off the kiss. His eyes remained closed and he rubbed his lips against her temple. “I told myself I wouldn’t do that.”

  “I…I didn’t mean to run away last night, but I was afraid.”

  “Of me?”

  He felt her smile. “No, of me. Of what would happen if you saw how much I enjoyed your touch.”

  At the sound of the kids racing down the stairs, they instantly broke apart. Beth turned away and shakily swept back her hair. John thrust his hands into his pockets.

  Nikki burst into the room first and stopped dead in her tracks. She stared at him and then at Beth.

  John was sure he looked guilty as sin. Beth, too.

  Paul joined Nikki, skidded
to a stop and did a double take. “We didn’t interrupt anything, did we?”

  Eight

  Beth: How’s Dave these days?

  Mary Jane: He’s doing well. How about you?

  Beth: Better than I have in a long while.

  Mary Jane: Something’s happened! Come on, Beth, tell me.

  Beth: You’re right, something’s happened. Something wonderful…

  The message light on the answering machine was blinking when Beth walked into the house Thursday afternoon. A good part of the day had been spent kayaking on Puget Sound with Paul and Nikki. They were continuing with their lessons and grew more and more adventurous in their outings. Nikki had taken to the sport with a skill and dexterity that drew unlimited praise from their instructor. Paul was more than capable, too. Beth felt she provided comic relief.

  She glanced at her watch and then the phone. John usually caught the four-o’clock ferry from Seattle, so they generally ate dinner at six. Beth could either respond to the phone message or get dinner going. She chose the latter.

  After a full afternoon Nikki bounced upstairs to shower, and the ever-energetic Paul went outside to shoot a few baskets. Beth ignored the blinking light and went into the kitchen instead.

  Once she had the oysters shelled and a fresh broccoli salad prepared, she headed for the telephone. But she already knew the call had come from Mary Jane. She switched off the answering machine and punched in the number from memory.

  “Where have you been all afternoon?” Mary Jane asked immediately.

  “We were kayaking,” Beth said. Pressing the portable telephone to her ear, she returned to the kitchen and started to peel potatoes. “We didn’t see any eagles this afternoon, but there was a harbor seal at the marina. I don’t know if I’ll ever get accustomed to seeing wildlife up close and personal,” she said, chatting easily. “If it hadn’t been for the kids, I would’ve stayed in the marina all afternoon so I could study that seal. I’m telling you, Mary Jane, he was huge and—” She stopped when she realized she was rambling, and all because she was trying to avoid the one topic that interested Mary Jane the most. Her and John.

  “How’s Dave?” she asked, fending off her friend’s questions before she had a chance to ask them.

  “Physically he’s doing great, but he hates this inactivity. To be perfectly frank, the man is driving me crazy. At least he’s able to do some work from his bed. Thank God for laptops.”

  “This is hard on you, isn’t it?” Beth said, sympathizing with her. Jim hadn’t been a good patient, either. Whenever he was ill, he’d demanded constant attention. Beth smiled as she remembered how she’d loved to tease him. Men were all big babies when they had the flu. Jim had enjoyed being pampered and had often exaggerated his symptoms to the point of being comic. He’d request she make all his favorite comfort foods, rub his temples and read to him. She’d done it, too, often spending hour after hour waiting on him, seeing to his every desire.

  “Having Dave underfoot is driving me nuts,” Mary Jane admitted, “but it’s kind of nice, too. At least now his curiosity is satisfied. For years he’s wondered exactly what I do every day. I think in the back of his mind, he assumed I lounge around the house, watch soap operas and nibble on chocolates. He didn’t have a clue how much effort it takes to keep up with three teenage boys, work part-time and volunteer with two different charity organizations.”

  Little had changed about her friend since they were in high school. Even then Mary Jane had been involved in half a dozen projects and clubs at a time. Outgoing and personable, she was a natural choice when it came to heading up committees and organizing study groups. She quickly got bored if there weren’t five or six items constantly on her agenda.

  “So?” Mary Jane prodded. “Are you going to volunteer the information or are you going to make me ask?”

  Beth sighed. “About John and me?” She might be forthright about the question, but she sure didn’t know how to answer it. Telling Mary Jane they’d kissed was one thing; telling her she’d wept in John’s arms was another. And confessing she’d revealed her deepest sorrows to him—well, that was something else again.

  The kisses they’d shared after their trip to the rain forest were unlike any she’d experienced before. Physically, they’d been exciting. Passionate. Sensuous. But no words could describe their emotional effect. Beth didn’t even want to try explaining it—not to Mary Jane and not even to herself.

  “We’ve kissed,” she said quietly, hoping that would satisfy her friend’s curiosity. She should have known better.

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  “What did you think?” Mary Jane demanded. “What was it like?”

  Beth closed her eyes, remembering. “It was…wonderful.”

  Mary Jane emitted a gleeful sound. “There’s a lot you’re not saying, isn’t there?”

  “Yes,” Beth admitted reluctantly.

  “This whole fiasco—Dave’s accident, you guys sharing the house and everything—is working out magnificently.” Anyone might think that having a bedridden and miserable husband was the best thing to happen since the invention of the bread machine.

  “I need to get off the phone,” Beth said, wanting to cut this inquisition short. “John’ll be home soon and everyone’s starving.”

  “You sound just like a wife.”

  “I’ve got dinner started,” Beth said. She knew she sounded defensive, but couldn’t help herself. “Cooking dinner is the least I can do under the circumstances.”

  “Hey, you don’t need to get testy with me.”

  “I wasn’t testy.”

  Mary Jane actually chortled. “Oh, yes, you were. And you know what else? You’re disclosing more by what you don’t say.”

  “How?” Beth wasn’t sure why she felt compelled to pursue this, especially since it guaranteed delving into a subject that left her confused and uncertain.

  “You like this guy, really like him, otherwise you wouldn’t care what I thought or said, but you do care.” Her friend sounded absolutely delighted. “Think about it. John Livingstone is the first man you’ve had any interest in since Jim died, and all I can say is it’s about time.”

  “John’s a friend.”

  “And more,” Mary Jane added knowingly.

  “With the potential for more,” Beth felt obliged to add, although even that was probably being too optimistic. “We’ve been thrown together for a month. It’s only natural that we’d be attracted to each other. But we’re different kinds of people.” That wasn’t all, either. Any romance between them was complicated by a number of factors. She lived in Missouri, while he was from California, and that was only for starters. The problems of maintaining a long-distance relationship seemed overwhelming. Especially with kids involved.

  “I’ve got to go,” Beth said. “I’ll call you soon.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.” But when she did phone, Beth was determined to steer the subject away from John.

  She carried the phone back into the hallway. It wasn’t until she set it back in its cradle that Beth realized how much she did want to talk to someone about John. She just wasn’t sure she could trust Mary Jane to be objective.

  John and Beth had kissed on two occasions now, and both times had been incredible. Both had left her head reeling and her heart pounding for hours afterward. She’d felt shaken and frighteningly vulnerable. Not a comfortable sensation. And yet she found herself wanting to be close to him. It made no sense that she should hunger for his touch—but she did.

  Beth suspected their attraction was fueled by the hurt they each carried from their failed marriages. Jim wouldn’t have turned to another woman if he’d been happy in their relationship, Beth believed.

  The fact that he’d loved this other woman was painfully obvious. Beth had found a love letter in the glove compartment of his truck, along with a stack of credit-card slips from a cheap hotel. What hurt most was the receipt from the high-priced downtown jew
eler for a diamond bracelet. Her husband had taken money from his business, from his family, and spent it on a lover. Finding that receipt had felt like swallowing acid. It burned even now, the anger fresh and searing.

  Beth closed her eyes against the memory, the pain, the humiliation.

  “Beth?”

  Her eyes flew open. Nikki stood in front of her, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, wet hair combed away from her face.

  “Are you feeling sick?” the girl asked with a worried frown.

  “I’m okay,” Beth said, and hoped Nikki believed her. “What can I do for you, kiddo?” she asked, forcing a lightness into her voice she didn’t feel.

  “Can I talk to you a minute?” the girl asked, her eyes round, her voice suddenly uncertain.

  “Of course.” Beth slipped her arm around Nikki’s slim waist and together they walked back into the kitchen. Without asking, Beth poured them each a tall glass of iced tea. They sat at the table directly across from each other. Nikki didn’t speak for a long moment, but Beth was content to wait, realizing that whatever was on Nikki’s mind must be difficult to express.

  “My dad said I’m beautiful,” Nikki whispered at last. She didn’t look at Beth, only gazed down at her drink.

  “You are.”

  The girl’s eyes shot up to Beth. “Are you just saying that because you think you’re supposed to? Because you think that’s what I want to hear?” Every syllable was a challenge. An angry fire leaped into her eyes, reminiscent of those first few awkward days. It was almost as if she was trying to start an argument.

  Beth took her time answering, instinctively knowing the seriousness of the question. “What you have, Nikki, is the promise of beauty.” She reached across the table and ran her finger down the side of the girl’s face. “You have classic lines and—”

  “I look like my mother,” she spat out. “People think she’s beautiful, but she isn’t. Not after what she did. I hate her.” Her voice rose until she was shouting. “I hate her. I don’t want to look like her. I don’t want anything to do with her.” Nikki’s face reddened and tears ran from her eyes.