by Nancy Thayer
“It might get lonely,” Lexi warned.
“I know that. But it will be more genuine, Lexi. I won’t be living my life trying to force Jesse into a role he doesn’t want to play.”
“So you’ve told him?”
“Just tonight. After dinner.”
“How did he take it?”
“He was surprised, of course. Confused and kind of angry. He kept thinking I suspected him of sleeping with someone else.”
Lexi bent down to pick up a loose bit of the foil from the bottle. “Is he sleeping with someone else?” Guiltily, she remembered Jesse’s kisses, and her own response.
“He swears he isn’t, but that doesn’t even matter now, Lexi. That’s not why I broke off with him.”
Lexi straightened so she could watch Clare’s face. “But Clare, you know how Jesse is. How are you going to feel when he does sleep with someone else? When he gets engaged to someone else? When he marries someone else and you all live on this island and see each other every day?” What if Jesse and I got together, she wondered, but forced that thought aside. This wasn’t the right time to think about that.
Clare was bubbling. “Honestly, Lexi, I’ll feel fine about it. I can’t explain it, it’s like they say about having a veil lifted from your vision, or in this case more like a weight lifted off my shoulders. I want Jesse to be happy. I don’t hate him, I don’t wish him ill. I know he’ll find someone else and marry someone else, and even if I end up a spinster living with a dog and eating too many of my chocolates, I’d rather do that than be with him.”
Lexi reminded her vaguely, “Spinsters live with cats.”
“Right!” Clare lifted her glass. “Guess that means I won’t be a spinster.”
“No.” She chose her words carefully. “Perhaps you should wait a few days to celebrate. Let your emotions settle. Maybe you’ll realize how much you miss him. How much you love him.”
“Oh, Lexi, I know exactly how I feel! I’m happy. I’m free. I’m starting over.”
“Well, it’s very brave of you. But go slowly,” Lexi advised. “You seem a little…volatile these days.”
“Oh, Lexi!” Clare stomped her foot impatiently. “Come on, drink with me.” Clare clinked her glass against Lexi’s. “Here’s to the future.”
Lexi said quietly, “Right. Here’s to the future.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
Lexi woke with a hangover. It had been after midnight when Clare finally wound down and went laughing off down the stairs and into the night. Lexi had collapsed on her bed with all her clothes on, and now the sun was glaring in the windows like an irate timekeeper. It was after ten o’clock. She took a long and extremely hot shower, letting the water pound away her slight headache, flashing back on Clare’s visit. Clare had been so happy, almost bored with the whole subject of Jesse, and somehow they’d gotten onto remembering their childhood, laughing like girls while they drank the entire bottle of champagne.
Remember when we pretended to be in the CIA and left notes for each other in the books at the library? Remember the time we Super Glued Harsh Marsh’s desk drawer shut?
She rubbed her scalp hard as she toweled her hair dry. She drank two cups of strong coffee and ate a piece of toast with peanut butter. No chance she could open today; there were too many things left undone. She found her list and scanned it. Hooks had to be hung in the cubicles—four in each. And brackets for the curtain rods and holders for the tiebacks. Would she be able to mount the hardware herself? In her own home, she would trust her work, but she wanted everything in Moon Shell Beach to be perfect. Plus, she needed the quarter board with the shop’s name mounted above the front door and that was one thing she really couldn’t do herself. Jesse had said he’d come back to finish the work…should she call him? He would assume Clare had told him about their break-up…
She caught herself staring off into space. There were a million other things that had to be done. She would not stand here thinking about Jesse Gray.
All day she unpacked, checked inventories, ironed, sewed, and stacked. Now and then she noticed people entering Sweet Hart’s, and she smiled, imagining Clare flying around the shop on her newfound high.
She wasn’t even thinking about Jesse when her phone rang and Jesse said, “I’m downstairs at your door.”
It was late afternoon. Jesse looked rough, his shirt stained with sweat, his work boots covered with sawdust, and dark circles under his eyes. One look at him, and Lexi knew to focus on the shop, not on personal matters.
“Oh, Jesse, thanks for coming. I need the sign mounted, and some hooks put on the walls, and the curtain brackets. It shouldn’t take you too long.”
Jesse nodded without speaking and headed to the back of the shop. He had already marked the spots for the hooks, and in only a few minutes he had them securely fastened. Wrestling Lexi’s footstool around, he stood on it to nail in the brackets. Then he took the sign outside and hung it above the door: Moon Shell Beach.
Lexi and Jesse stood side by side on the cobblestones, looking up at it.
“Looks good,” Jesse said gruffly.
“It really does.” This was a huge moment for Lexi, and she was disconcerted to find her attention distracted from her shop to the simple fact of the handsome man standing next to her. The man just radiated sex. It had to be a chemical thing.
“Want to share a celebratory drink with me?” she asked lightly, wincing at the very thought of putting alcohol into her system after last night.
Jesse shook his head. “Thanks anyway.” He headed back into the shop and picked up his toolbox.
“Well, Jesse, let me pay you before you go.”
“I’ll send you a bill.”
“Oh, right, sure, of course.” Lexi flapped her hands. “Jesse…Jesse, Clare told me you two have broken up.”
Jesse didn’t look at Lexi and his voice was low. “I’m sure she did.”
“I just, well, if you ever…” She didn’t even know what she wanted to offer. Consolation? A shoulder to cry on? Sex?
“I’ve gotta go, Lexi.” Jesse’s shoulder brushed hers as he passed her on his way out the door.
It was quiet after Jesse left. Lexi stepped back out into the cobblestone lane to gaze at her sign. Next door, Sweet Hart’s was empty; the Closed sign hung on the door. Tomorrow was not Lexi’s official Grand Opening Day—that would be on Saturday, and she’d put an ad in the paper announcing it. But tomorrow, Friday, she would open. In the morning there would be plenty of time to hang the lavender and blue panels of raw silk she would use for privacy curtains on the cubicles. She went through her shop and out the back door.
For a moment, she stood just looking out at the harbor. In the strong, late-afternoon light, the water was darker, and the wind had picked up, making waves swell and retreat against the sandy curve of beach. The tide was coming in. The herring gulls were still at it, screaming and dropping shells on the town pier, then dive-bombing down to eat the tender meat inside. She wondered what Clare was doing. She wondered what Jesse was doing. She saw Jewel sitting at the end of the pier, with the sun blazing down on her.
Grabbing up a tube of sunblock, she closed the door behind her and walked over the beach to the town pier.
“Hey, Jewel.”
The child’s face lit up. “Hi, Ms. Laney!”
“Mind if I join you?”
“That would be excellent.”
Lexi dropped down onto the warm boards next to the girl. “Look what I’ve brought you.” She held out a tube of sunblock.
“Thank you, Miss Laney. But I have my sunhat.” Jewel tapped the floppy straw hat on top of her head.
“True, but what about your arms and legs?” She was not going to lecture the child about skin cancer. Surely Bonnie Frost lathered her daughter up with sunblock each morning. Lexi just wanted to be sure.
Jewel looked down at her scrawny girl legs protruding from yellow shorts. They were brown, with a glow of burn along the tops. “Well, I suppose it’s a good idea.
Thank you.” Taking the tube, she smeared sunblock on her legs. “Feels good,” she said. “Cool.”
Lexi stretched out beside Jewel. “Might be wise to do your arms, too.”
Jewel complied. “You aren’t very tanned,” she noted.
“True. I’m always working. No time for play.”
“That’s what my mother said about my father.”
Lexi hid a smile. Of course the girl wanted to talk about her father. “I knew your father when I was in school. Well, I’m two years younger than Tris, so I hardly knew him. He was so old and sophisticated.” Lexi smiled, thinking how from her vantage point, a teenage boy was so not sophisticated, but she saw the way Jewel nodded, her gaze growing dreamy, and of course from the girl’s point of view, a teenage boy was a creature of infinite mystery.
“He was a friend of my brother’s, Adam Laney, you know him, the veterinarian. He was really nice to little kids. I mean your father and my brother. They were the coolest guys in the school, and they weren’t ever mean or snobby. They both worked in the summer, but on their time off they were always at the beach with a whole gang of boys.” Lexi closed her eyes, remembering those long-ago summer days, the heat and glare and salt spray, how she and Clare spread their striped beach towels on the sand close enough to watch the guys as they body surfed or played Frisbee on the beach. The popular older girls would saunter by in their bikinis, striking poses to attract the guys, and the guys were attracted, no doubt about it. They’d yell at the girls, or chase them into the ocean, their bodies brown and slippery as seals.
“Everyone thought your father was cute,” Lexi continued. “We didn’t call guys handsome then. We called them cute or hunky. Whenever they could, my brother would go out with your father on Tris’s sunfish. They loved capsizing—” Lexi stopped a moment, wondering if this would frighten Jewel, then continued. “They thought capsizing was the best fun. Sometimes they were real goofs in the water. My parents got mad when they heard about it, but Tris and Adam were ace swimmers, they were like dolphins.” She remembered watching them from shore. She could hear their raucous nutty boy laughter all the way across from Monomoy. When they reached the town pier, they’d fall backward into the water, splashing like drunken whales. They waded up onto the beach, dripping water off their muscular sunburned shoulders, their bodies as powerful as gods as they dismantled the sunfish and hefted the rudder and sail in their arms.
“I know,” Jewel said, nodding. “My dad’s second home is the water. I know he’s fine, I know he’s somewhere, I know he’ll come home.”
“I hope you’re right,” Lexi said. She wrapped her arm around Jewel, hugging her tightly. She didn’t come here to help the girl, she realized; she came here for herself. Jewel was so good at hoping, and Lexi wanted to be good at that, too.
TWENTY-NINE
By the end of the day, Clare’s hangover headache had disappeared. When she arrived home after closing her shop, she felt clean and oddly virtuous. It had been a perfect day at Sweet Hart’s, busy but not insane, and she’d had a chance to chat with some of the returning summer people she enjoyed. She found herself singing as she made a light meal of pasta and salad for herself and her father. After dinner, she phoned Penny to tell her the news, longing to discuss her feelings for Adam with her sensible friend, but baby Mikey was down with a summer cold. He wasn’t ill, Penny assured Clare, just snotty and coughing and uncomfortable, and in addition, he was cutting two teeth, so he was thoroughly cranky.
Over the sounds made by the fussing baby, Penny said, “You did the right thing, breaking off with Jesse. I’m proud of you!” Mikey sneezed. “Gotta go!”
Light lingered high in the sky, the air was fresh, and Clare couldn’t sit still. She clipped on Ralphie’s leash and took her out for a walk around the block. She felt so new, and so intelligent, and somehow in control of her life. As she strolled down the street, she was content to let Ralphie “read the newspaper” on all the bushes she could find, while she meditated upon the right time to tell Adam that she’d broken off with Jesse.
It would only be mature to wait a couple of weeks after breaking off with one man to start a relationship with another, wouldn’t it?
On the other hand, she’d told Marlene today that she’d broken off with Jesse, so the island gossip line would be scorching as the news was passed along. Wouldn’t it be better if Clare told Adam herself, before he heard it from someone else? Perhaps tomorrow morning she could take Ralphie for a walk on the beach, and if she happened to run into Adam there…
Suddenly she couldn’t wait another minute.
“Come on, Ralphie, let’s run!” She turned sharply, yanked Ralphie’s leash, and sprinted back up the street toward her house. Ralphie galloped along beside her, tongue lolling out of her mouth, a smile on her doggie face. She liked this game.
The moment they were home, Clare unsnapped the leash and led the dog into the living room. “Here, Ralphie, good girl.” She took a rawhide bone from the shelf and handed it to Ralphie, who dropped to the floor, held it between her two front paws, and gnawed blissfully. “Dad, I might not be home tonight. Will you remember to take Ralphie out before you go to bed?”
Her father was engrossed in Jeopardy!, but he nodded.
“Thanks.” Clare bent over to smack a kiss on his bald head, then grabbed up her purse and hurried out to her car. Radio blasting, she drove as fast as she dared through the town and out Madaket Road and over to Crooked Lane.
Clare pulled into the drive of Adam’s cottage and threw herself out of her car almost before she’d turned the engine off. As the white crushed shells crunched beneath her feet, she could hear Adam’s dogs barking like maniacs. A light by the front door came on, and before she could knock, the door opened, and there stood Adam.
He was in jeans and a flannel shirt. He was barefoot and his hair was rumpled. He had a beer in one hand. “Clare?”
“Adam.” Her heart was ticking over so fast she was afraid she was going to faint. “Can I come in? I have to tell you something.”
He looked puzzled. “Sure.” He held the door open for her.
She entered his house. Lucky and Bella immediately twined around her ankles, wagging their tails, sniffing, whining for attention.
“What’s going on?” Adam asked.
“This,” Clare said, and launched herself at him.
She grabbed his face with both hands, pulled his head down, and smashed her lips into his mouth. Her haste, her desire, made her clumsy. They both staggered until Adam ended up with a wall at his back. She pressed her body against his.
Adam pulled his mouth away. “Hey, hey, hang on a minute. Clare, you’re engaged to Jesse!”
“Not anymore. And never again.”
He pushed her away so he could see her face. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.” She was running her hands over his shoulders and arms and chest; she wanted to touch him all over at once. She moved her hips against his and felt his hardness beneath the denim. “Oh, Adam, I want to go to bed with you.”
Adam looked wary. “What, is this rebound sex?” Before she could answer, he said, “Oh, what the hell do I care?” and picked her up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom.
Clare wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his face as he walked. He fell onto the bed with her and put both hands on her shoulders. “Slow down. Slow down.”
“Can’t,” she gasped, trying to unzip his jeans. “Need…”
They struggled against one another on the bed. In her hurry to get her tee off, she knocked him in the nose with her elbow. He yanked off her jeans and panties. He pulled down his jeans and boxers. She kicked her sandals across the room. They hit the wall with a thud.
The dogs whimpered and panted around the bed, curious and slightly alarmed. Adam wrenched himself away from Clare’s arms and strode across the room, naked. Clare stared at his erect penis and nearly swooned.
“Out,” Adam said firmly. The dogs shuffled out into the hall. He sla
mmed the door. He returned to the bed and paused to stare down at Clare, lying naked on top of his duvet. “My God, you’re beautiful.”
In one quick movement, Clare was on her knees. She pressed herself against Adam, nuzzling the brown hair on his belly, running her hands down his strong muscular thighs.
Adam groaned and took her by the shoulders and lay her back on the bed, then pushed his knees against her knees, spreading her legs apart. He ran his hand over her body from shoulder to breast to belly to groin, and cupped her crotch with his hand and curled his fingers in the hair between her legs.
Clare grabbed his shoulders. She kissed his neck, his collarbone, and then he entered her, and she let her head fall back, her eyes close, as she felt his length and width and heat press into her. She wrapped her legs around his back, she wrapped her arms around his chest, she turned her head to the side and burrowed her mouth against his arm, biting it slightly as she moaned.
They could not slow down. His thrusts were rapid, hot, hard, almost painful, but she responded in kind, tilting her hips for better leverage, clutching him with her arms and legs as if she were drowning and he was everything that could save her. He shuddered against her, climaxing, and she came, too, in such an intense orgasm she felt like an animal, a beast, a sea creature squeezing out of its shell, expanding into a world of sensation.
“Wow.” Adam fell next to her, catching his breath.
She turned on her side and nestled her face in his chest, inhaling his strong, fabulously male scent. She couldn’t stand to be even this separate from him, so she rolled on top of him and aligned her bare legs to his so she could feel his movements as he caught his breath. She pressed her lips against his neck. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. Skin to skin, they lay together, clamped, locked, sweaty, dazed.
At two in the morning, Clare and Adam sat in his kitchen, voraciously eating bacon-and-tomato sandwiches, the bread smothered with mayo. They were both still naked. They’d made love again and again, until they were exhausted. Now they chewed and swallowed and chased the food down with beers in silence, their bodies demanding fuel.