Secrets in Summer

by Nancy Thayer

  Clive came into the kitchen as Darcy was scrubbing the skillet.

  “She ate a few bites,” he said, showing Darcy her plate. “She’s asleep now.”

  “Have you eaten?” Darcy asked.

  A puzzled expression crossed his face. “Oh, I guess I haven’t.”

  “Would you like me to make you some eggs? A nice hot scramble, with cheese in them?”

  Clive looked dazed, as if she were speaking a foreign language. “Oh, thanks, but you’ve already washed the skillet.”

  “Yes, and, guess what, I can always wash it again.” She dried the skillet and set it back on the stove. “Sit down, Clive. Rest a moment. I think Mimi will be okay.”

  Clive nodded and sat down. He rested his elbows on the table and sank his head in his hands.

  Darcy melted more butter in the skillet and broke more eggs into a bowl. She felt oddly maternal and nurturing and very fond of this man who was so loving to his grandmother.

  “You’re wonderful with Mimi,” she said over her shoulder.

  Clive shrugged. “Thank you. I’m glad to do it, although I’m missing some good summer time with my daughters.”

  Darcy grated cheese into the eggs as she listened. “Oh? I thought you wanted to be here to write a book about jazz.”

  “That’s what I told Mimi. And I am. The truth is this visit to the island matters a lot to her. I didn’t want her to think I had anything on my schedule for the summer that I would have to give up to bring her here.”

  “Does she get to see her great-granddaughters?” Darcy said as she whisked the eggs.

  “When we’re back in Boston, she does. My ex-wife has remarried, and she’s got a baby, and the girls are enchanted with him. They love me, they love Mimi, but this year they haven’t wanted to spend as much time with either of us.” Clive leaned back in his chair, rubbed his neck with one hand, and sighed. “When Mimi sees you, Darcy, she rallies. She summons up all her charm and wit. With you, she seems like a younger woman, a stronger woman, a—a less-frail woman. Until this year, she was a firecracker of a grandmother. She took Alyssa and Zoe everywhere—she went on a roller coaster with them when they were five. I was afraid she’d die of a heart attack, but she had a grand time.”

  Darcy lowered the burner, slowly pouring the egg mixture into the skillet. “I can imagine Mimi on a roller coaster.”

  “But in the last year…Mimi had a stroke. We were lucky. It wasn’t a bad one. But it slowed her down. Since then, she’s been gradually becoming…slower. She’s still there mentally, still has her sense of humor, but we can’t leave the girls alone with her. It would be too awful if Mimi fell or had another stroke when they were there. Mimi knows this—she suggested it, that the girls not be left alone with her. And when I take them to visit her, sometimes she’s in good shape, but often she’s so tired. Alyssa and Zoe are too young to understand. I mean, they’re sweet with her, they kiss her and talk to her, but they get restless. She’s not the great-grandmother they knew. And then Helen—my ex—has her own parents living nearby, and Ed and Janice are really fun grandparents.”

  “Where are your parents?” Darcy asked, taking toast from the toaster and buttering it lavishly.

  “My mother died a few years ago. My father has remarried and moved to France. He’s not really interested in the girls.”

  Darcy put the plate of hot cheesy eggs and toast in front of Clive. “Eat up,” she told him. “You need your strength.”

  “God, this smells good.” Clive picked up his fork and dug in like a starving man.

  Darcy made herself a cup of coffee and set the skillet to soak. “I understand how you feel, Clive. I’m living in my grandmother’s house. Penny. Penelope to many people, including my mother. I lived with my grandmother here on the island from the time I was ten.”

  “Are your parents—”

  “No, not dead. Just not interested. My father’s with his new wife in Florida and my mother is anywhere she can have a good time. If I hadn’t had my grandmother to give me a stable life, I don’t know what I’d have done.”

  “Tell me more,” Clive asked as he spread jam on his toast.

  Darcy sat down at the table and talked. About her beautiful butterfly mother, about her cold, emotionless father. About her gaggle of well-intentioned but irresponsible relatives in Chicago, about her years on the island with Penny. It was comforting, talking like this in a warm kitchen. It was ordinary, domestic, peaceful.

  When Clive finished eating, he heaved a deep sigh. “That was manna from heaven, Darcy, thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Consider me your surrogate grandmother of the day.” She meant only to imply that Mimi would be up and around as soon as tomorrow, that she was doing what their grandmothers did, listening, caring, helping.

  “I don’t think of you as a grandmother in any way,” Clive said. And he fixed her with a steady stare that took Darcy’s breath away.

  “Well.” She couldn’t think of any other single intelligent word.

  His look was full of need and desire, heat and lust. Embarrassed and completely unsure of herself, Darcy pushed back her chair and rose.

  “I’ll put your dish in the dishwasher—” she said.

  She reached for the plate. Clive caught her wrist with his hand. He stood up, and keeping her caught by one hand, he pulled her to him with the other. He cupped her head in his hand and kissed her, a long, hard, ferocious kiss that swept over Darcy like a tidal wave. This was wrong, Darcy thought—wasn’t it? She’d made no commitment to Nash. If he could plan to buy a house without mentioning it to her, she could certainly kiss another man.

  Except she realized this was not going to be a simple kiss. Clive wanted her now. She understood that urgency, it wasn’t wrong, it was natural, it was right, it was celebrating life in the midst of old age and illness and so many kinds of defeat. It was like finding a bubble of lifesaving air when you’re helplessly sinking into the dark, fathomless ocean of death. It was the triumph of lust over loss. For a few moments, Darcy could help Clive forget the shadow of death hanging over his grandmother. For a few moments, they could both take their pleasure in being young and alive.

  And yet…

  Darcy pulled away from his kiss. “Clive, I’m sorry. I can’t.”

  He frowned. “Because of that carpenter guy?”

  She started to protest that Nash wasn’t a simple carpenter guy, he was a lawyer, or had been. At the same time, she realized that it was Nash she loved, whatever his profession. It was Nash’s gentleness and his humor, his lack of snobbery, his love of reading, the dark memories that made him who he was, and his unspoken determination to turn toward the light.

  “Yes, actually, it’s because of that carpenter guy.”

  Moving briskly, she headed down the hall to the front door. Clive followed.

  “If there’s any change in Mimi, call me, okay?” She picked up her book bag and opened the door.

  “I want to walk you home,” Clive said, catching her by the wrist.

  She laughed again, trying to lighten the situation. “Clive, I live next door.”

  His grip tightened on her wrist. “I’m well aware of that. Still, it’s what I want to do. Indulge me.” He reached for her book bag and shouldered it.

  “Fine.” She allowed her hand to lie clasped in his and stepped out onto the small porch that led six steps down to the brick sidewalk.

  “Ahh.” Clive sighed, breathing in the fresh air. “I’m glad you stopped by today, Darcy. I mean, for Mimi. And the open windows, the fresh air, the clean sheets and nightgown. I didn’t have a clue about all that.”

  They stopped at Darcy’s doorstep, still holding hands. “She should see a doctor. Or, maybe, you could hire a private nurse. A professional caregiver.”

  “I’ll talk to Mimi about it.” In one silky move, Clive gave Darcy her book bag and brought his hands up to frame Darcy’s face. He tilted her head toward his. “Darcy, thank you. For everything. And don’t think that I�
�m confusing gratitude with honest personal desire. I’d like a chance to prove my point.”

  “You’re welcome, Clive,” Darcy replied, ignoring his words about desire. She remembered how she’d felt when Penny was ill, how confused, how much she’d needed someone to help her realize she had her own future ahead of her. She tried to turn from him.

  Clive pulled her against him and kissed her again, hotly, possessively. Her hands were caught against his chest and she tried to push him away but his kiss continued. He was not a man who liked to take no for an answer. Finally she wrenched herself from his embrace.

  “Clive, you shouldn’t leave Mimi alone.”

  “You’re right. I’m going.” He gave her a deep look. “But I’ll be back.”

  A vehicle shrieked, laying rubber right in front of her house. She turned.

  She saw Nash’s red pickup truck tearing away from her house as if Nash had slammed the gas pedal to the floor.

  “Nash!” she called.

  She didn’t know how long he’d been parked there. Not long, she was sure, she hadn’t seen his truck when they walked over from Clive’s.

  But long enough to see their kiss.

  “Clive, I’ve got to go in now.” She unlocked her front door and hurried inside, reaching for her cellphone as she went.

  19

  Darcy punched Nash’s button on her direct dial. It went to voicemail.

  “Nash, I need to talk to you. Please come back. I’ll be here all evening. Nash, I—please call me.”

  Muffler strolled into the room, waving his beautiful tail.

  Darcy paced the floor. “Damn! This is crazy!” Snatching up her phone, she hit Jordan’s number. The moment Jordan answered, Darcy cried, “Jordan! Nash saw Clive kissing me at my front door!”

  “Clive kissed you?” Jordan repeated.

  “It was only a kind of thank-you kiss because I’d just helped Mimi, who has a cold, and then he walked me home—”

  “You live next door and he walked you home?” Before Darcy could respond, Jordan said, “Hold her. Play with her. Watch TV with her. I’ve got to talk to Darcy.” Shuffling noises and a few baby squawks reached Darcy’s ears, then Jordan added, “Sorry, Darcy. Had to give Kiks to her daddy.”

  Darcy heard Jordan’s breath change and she knew Jordan was climbing the stairs to the privacy of her bedroom. This was calming, unambiguous. Jordan was there for her. Darcy sank into a corner of her sofa.

  A door slammed. “Now. Start over,” Jordan demanded.

  “I stopped by to see Mimi, because I wanted her advice about…” Good grief, was it only this afternoon she’d been worrying about Willow knowing about her mother and Otto? What was happening to this neighborhood? Had she been beamed up to an alien triangle of triangles? “Wait. Let me start over.” Darcy tried to regain her composure. “I stopped by to see Mimi. She’s quite ill with a summer cold. Clive was doing his best, but I helped her clean up a little, I changed the sheets, and I made her scrambled eggs—”

  “Enough about Mimi! What do you mean about kissing Clive?”

  “I’m trying to tell you. Mimi fell asleep and I was in the kitchen washing up and Clive came in, and I made him eggs and we talked about Mimi, and I told him about Penny, and we’re both so worried about Mimi, but of course Clive is more worried, he’s so close to her, like I was with Penny. It was a nice moment, friendly, warm. I’m not surprised he tried to kiss me. He’s in an emotional tsunami with his grandmother’s health. She could die, and naturally that’s frightening to him. So he kissed me. But I pulled away. Okay, I didn’t pull away for a moment, but then I did. I told him no, I told him I was with Nash, and I started to leave the house. He said he wanted to walk me home—he wanted to be a gentleman.”

  “Okay,” Jordan said slowly. “So when did Nash see you?”

  “At my front door. Clive was thanking me, and then he kissed me goodbye. It was a long kiss, it was complicated…Clive wanted more, and I was pushing him away but I guess it could have looked sexual. Anyway, right then, Nash drove up in front of my house, saw Clive kissing me, and roared off like an angry gorilla!”

  “Wow. This is a lot to process, Darcy. Let me think.” Jordan was silent for a few moments. “Okay, now back up. The kiss with Clive—was it nice?”

  Darcy closed her eyes. “No, not nice. Passionate, but in a bad way. Clive is handsome and sexy, but this almost wasn’t about sex.”

  “Right,” Jordan snorted.

  “No, really. I think it was about power. He was surprised, I think, and confused, that I wasn’t all over him. I mean, he is handsome. He is sexy. But honestly, in my heart of hearts, Clive might as well have been a piece of macaroni. It kills me that Nash saw us kissing on my doorstep.”

  “Sounds like it didn’t make Nash very happy, either.”

  “I know. And he won’t answer his phone!”

  “Are you in love with Nash?”

  Darcy sighed. “I am. I haven’t told him that yet. He’s still so reserved. And now this.”

  “Okay, look, it’s only natural for him to take off when he sees you kissing another man. What would you expect him to do, get out of the truck and shake Clive’s hand?”

  “I know. I know….”

  “Let’s go back to Clive again,” Jordan suggested. “Obviously you felt something for him. You’ve talked about him, how he’s an interesting, cultured, sophisticated guy.”

  “That’s true. And he’s charismatic. But I can’t forget the Mimi element in all this.”

  “The Mimi element?”

  “Jordan, have you ever been around an older person you care for who’s really sick? I mean, Mimi is really sick. She’s so weak we had to help her to the bathroom. She couldn’t feed herself.”

  “Feel free to kill me if I ever get to that point,” Jordan joked.

  “Not funny! Oh, Jordan, I’m terribly worried about Mimi, my stomach’s all in a knot, and I don’t know what to do! I want to do something. It’s a terrible feeling to see someone you care for becoming helpless and weak, and to stand there knowing you can’t change it, you have no power, I don’t know, it fills you with such a furious kind of energy, you have to do something!”

  “I get that, Darcy. But, honey, Mimi isn’t your relative. You haven’t even known her that long. Just a few summer weeks. I don’t know, it seems your emotions are set on red alert when they shouldn’t be.”

  Darcy sank onto the sofa. “Okay. That makes sense. I’m going to have to mull that over, but I think you’re right. It’s been such an odd summer. Thanks for all the listening, Jordan. I’ve got to go. I’ve got to…I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  When she’d clicked off from Jordan, Darcy sat silently, trying to let her thoughts settle, but the sense of urgency remained. She needed to talk to Nash. She tried his number again. Again she was sent to voicemail.

  “Nash, I really want to talk to you. I need to talk to you. Call me? Please?”

  It was almost eight o’clock. She probably should eat something, but she had no appetite. Muffler did, however, and after he’d mewed piteously, she filled his food bowl and gave him fresh water. And then she stood in the kitchen, just staring.

  She had reached that place in her spirits where her emotions were all jumbled up. She had what she thought of as a dark heart. She wanted to sit down and cry, but, no—What she wanted was to change things. Now. She wanted Nash to hear what she had to say!

  She threw herself into her car and tore off, with much less noise and drama than Nash had in his truck. She headed toward Nash’s apartment.

  His red truck was in the drive. Lights were on in the apartment above the garage. Good, he was home.

  She ran up the steps and knocked on his door.

  When Nash opened the door, he looked really pissed off. Not a good sign.

  Or—maybe it was! Maybe he was jealous, maybe he was angry that she’d kissed another man!

  Nash wore clean board shorts and a T-shirt. He was barefoot and his sandy hair was wet.r />
  She was strong. “Nash, I need to talk to you.”

  He said, “Okay.” He didn’t move.

  “Could I come in? Please?”

  He shrugged, turned his back on her, and walked away from the door.

  Darcy stepped inside, shut the door, and followed him. He leaned his weight against the kitchen counter. His arms were folded over his chest in a classic defense pose.

  She was shaking, but she had to do this. “Nash, I think you’re angry with me because you saw Clive kissing me. I don’t blame you. Lots of stuff has been going on in my neighborhood. It’s been a completely crazy summer. So that doesn’t excuse me for kissing Clive, but it explains it, I hope. I mean, his grandmother Mimi is sick. And Willow—but never mind that. Nash, you’re angry with me, but is that fair? I’m confused. We’ve been seeing each other for about three months. I know that’s not long enough to make a serious, um, commitment, and I know we haven’t said anything important about us, you and me, where we might be headed, but Nash…Nash, it kills me to have you look at me like that. Nash, I came here to tell you—” Fear choked her. She reached out and put her hands on his arm. The warm skin, the electricity—it gave her strength, it gave her determination. “I love you.”

  Nash was made of stone. He didn’t respond to her touch. “That looked like more than a friendly kiss.”

  “I can explain that. Could we sit down? You’re so cold, and it’s not easy, saying all this to you and you standing there like Mount Rushmore. It’s complicated. This summer has been such a tangle. I know way too many secrets, and I had gone to Mimi’s house to ask her advice, and she’s sick, she’s really sick, and Clive was beside himself, and I helped Mimi get cleaned up. I made her some scrambled eggs.”

  Darcy paused. Nash didn’t move from the counter but continued to stare at her emotionlessly. Anger kindled in her chest at Nash’s unyielding face, at his lack of sympathy. And she had told him she loved him! Didn’t he hear? Didn’t he care?