Whit thought about it. “Well, it seems to me that Nona’s at the age where she doesn’t have control of much. Her body’s giving out, and her family continues to change. This is something she can control. She probably likes making one huge event happen.”
“You’re right. I know you’re right. But I still feel restless. Unsettled.”
Whit asked, “Because of the hedge?”
Charlotte turned from the window. For a moment, she pushed back all her fears and concerns and allowed herself to just look at him. She’d always known he was handsome, and that had irritated her, and now she had to admit that what she’d designated as irritation was really an intense physical connection that scared her half to death. But she was also oddly calmed by his presence. She liked it that now, in the midst of all the chaos in her house, he had focused on the personal, the immediate, the physical.
“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “Maybe it’s not the hedge. Maybe it’s my life.”
He didn’t speak but looked at her steadily in a way that made her legs go weak.
“Maybe it’s you,” she said quietly.
“That would be good.”
Charlotte sat down on her bed, next to Whit but not touching. Looking at her hands, she said, “I never wanted to be attracted to you, Whit, and I guess I’ve figured out it was because it would have been what my father wanted me to do.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“But now I’m thinking, Well, that’s not such a bad thing. Making my father happy.”
“It would be a bad thing if you married me only because it would make your father happy,” Whit said.
Charlotte blinked and looked up at him. “How did we get to the subject of marriage?”
Whit said, “When has the subject ever been anything else?”
“Well!” Charlotte hugged herself nervously. “Well, Whit. I mean, we don’t even know if we’re compatible.”
“Yeah, we do know,” Whit assured her. “We’re compatible. Think of yesterday. Talking. Just being together.”
It felt like her lips were freezing. And her fingertips. “But maybe we’re not compatible … sexually?” She could hardly get out the final word.
Whit said quietly, “We’ll just have to research the question, won’t we?”
“Will we?” She couldn’t breathe.
He took her face in both his hands and tilted it toward his. He put his mouth on hers, gently, his lips open, and she could feel the warmth and stirring of his breath. She put her hands on his chest. Beneath his shirt, his heart was racing, and this gave her courage. It meant as much to him, then, as it did to her. He was not faking it, trying to please his father by joining the two families. Right now he wanted her, and everything about him assured her that his desire was real and urgent.
Together they lay down on the bed, pressing their bodies together. She put her hands on his shoulders, on his back, and slid her hands down inside his shorts. He drew a sharp breath.
“Perhaps we should wait,” Whit said.
“Perhaps we shouldn’t,” Charlotte answered, attempting to sound light but really sounding almost desperate as she unzipped her shorts and wrestled her body out of them.
Whit hooked his thumbs in his shorts and yanked them and his boxer shorts off. He moved above Charlotte, bearing his weight on his elbows, his legs pressed against her legs, his long penis resting against her belly and thighs.
“I don’t have any condoms,” he whispered.
Charlotte smiled. “That’s okay,” she told him. “My mother wants lots of grandchildren.”
Whit smiled back. “So does mine.”
Thirty
Nona awoke with a start. She’d been dreaming she was in a hot-air balloon, drifting above the island, gazing down at her family and the house and the serene blue water.
But something had changed. Looking around, she saw the terrace, littered with leaves. Light flooded down on the slates outside the house, brightening the living room as never before. It was late afternoon.
One of the landscapers, a rugged tall man with burnt cinnamon skin, came to the French door, opened it, and leaned in. His entire body was plastered with small privet leaves.
“Mrs. Wheelwright?” he said. “We couldn’t get it all done today. We’ll be back tomorrow morning about seven. Should be able to finish it then.”
“That’s wonderful, Carl.” Nona raised her hand in a kind of wave. “Thank you.” She lifted the earmuffs off her head, flinching as they got caught in her hair.
Helen came into the room. “Nona. you’re awake.”
“Hello, dear. Where is everyone?”
“Let’s see. Grace and her crew have gone off to the yacht club for dinner.”
“I didn’t know they were planning that.” Nona shoved and wrestled her body around, trying to organize herself into a standing position. “Would you mind helping me to the bathroom?”
Helen came to her side and let Nona lean on her as they slowly shuffled along. “I don’t think they planned to go out, but Grace felt she needed a change of scenery.”
“Grace will be okay once the hedges are all down and we can put in new plantings,” Nona said. “Where’s Charlotte?”
“Charlotte and Whit are down on the beach. Charlotte and Whit have set up a casual picnic dinner there.”
Nona stopped still. She peered at Helen. “Charlotte and Whit, did you say?”
Helen smiled. “Charlotte and Whit.”
“Let’s not get our hopes up,” Nona advised.
“Wait until you see them together,” Helen answered smugly.
Nona shuffled into the bathroom, used the toilet, and washed her hands. Looking in the mirror, she saw that her hair had come out of the chignon and flew about her head in wisps. She tried to pat it back in place, then made a face at herself—funny old self, she could not believe she was so old!—and went back out into the hall where Helen was waiting.
“Has Glorious left?” she asked Helen.
“She has. Big date night for her.”
“And the others?”
“Suzette’s at the beach and Dawn is sleeping in a little wicker basket, like a baby from a fairy tale.”
“And Worth?”
“He’s down there, too. He carried Dawn down, in fact.”
Nona looked at Helen. “He did?”
Helen smiled. “He did.”
“Where’s Teddy?”
“He’s catching a ride home with a friend. He’ll be here any time. He knows we’re down at the beach.”
“Well, then, let’s go.”
Nona surrendered some of her pride and allowed herself to lean heavily on her daughter-in-law as they progressed through the house, out the doors, and onto the lawn.
The heat of the day had diminished, and the air was clear and sweet. The groomed lawn was soft beneath Nona’s feet, and birds called and flew among the trees that bordered the land.
“I’d almost forgotten how lovely it is out here,” Nona said.
Helen kept a firm arm around Nona’s waist and held Nona’s hand with her own. They arrived at the strip of sand shaped by the wind into low dunes. Tall narrow blades of beach grass grew in the dunes, and wild roses twined everywhere in lush profusion. The perfume was heavenly.
“Stop a moment,” Nona told Helen. “Let me just breathe.”
Helen waited, staring out at the water, until Nona said, “All right, dear. I’d better sit down.”
It was only a few more feet, and then they were on the beach.
Charlotte and Whit were at the water’s edge, squatting in the sand, whispering and laughing softly as they compared shells. Suzette was ensconced in one of the new clever canvas chairs that had arms with a cup holder and a little platform where she could rest her legs.
Worth sat in a beach chair, holding Dawn, wrapped in several light blankets, in his arms.
“My, it looks like a party,” Nona said, as she sank gratefully into a beach chair.
“It is a part
y,” Suzette agreed. “Look at all the food Glorious made.”
Nona accepted a glass of wine and a plate of cheese and crackers and sliced vegetables from Helen, who poured herself a glass of wine and sat cross-legged next to Worth’s chair. Nona sipped the wine and felt remarkably content with life.
“Look at the water,” Helen said. “It’s as still as glass.”
They all gazed out at the harbor. A few sailboats drifted idly in the distance, and a kayak sliced a white trail.
“The silence is lovely,” Helen said.
“Yeah,” Suzette agreed. “What a lot of noise those saws made. But Dawn just slept through it all.”
“Babies can do that.” Leaning over, Helen looked at her granddaughter. “She’s so beautiful.”
Nona said, “Her head comes to a point.”
“Nona!” Helen was shocked. “How can you say that?”
Nona said, “Her head comes to a point and she’s beautiful.”
“Hello, everyone!”
Nona turned to look. Teddy was striding down the lawn, undoing his tie as he walked.
“Oh, good, drinks on the beach. Heaven.” Teddy squatted down in front of Nona and put a hand on each arm of her chair. “Nona, I think taking the hedge down is a brilliant idea. It’s going to look great.”
“I’m so glad you think so.” Reaching out, she caressed Teddy’s cheek. How she loved this man, her second grandson.
Teddy stood up and walked to the drinks table. Nona forced herself not to look, but she couldn’t help it; she peeked, and from the periphery of her vision she saw Teddy pour himself a glass of sparkling water.
Teddy said, “Hey, Dad, let’s go for a walk. I’ve got some things to tell you.”
Worth raised an eyebrow, then said, “Okay.” Carefully he handed the baby to Suzette. He bent and removed his loafers.
Teddy kicked off his shoes. He and his father walked away, along the sloping beach. Helen brought her knees to her chest and hugged them.
“Summer’s almost over,” Suzette said, gazing out at the water.
“And fall is about to begin,” Nona said.
“Some days it’s as if life is just starting, brand new,” Helen observed.
“Well, it is,” Nona agreed. “Every day.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
NANCY THAYER is the New York Times bestselling author of Moon Shell Beach, The Hot Flash Club, The Hot Flash Club Strikes Again, Hot Flash Holidays, The Hot Flash Club Chills Out, and Between Husbands and Friends. She lives on Nantucket.
a cognizant original v5 release october 08 2010
Summer House is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2009 by Nancy Thayer
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Ballantine Books,
an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group,
a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
BALLANTINE and colophon are registered trademarks
of Random House, Inc.
eISBN: 978-0-345-51521-6
www.ballantinebooks.com
v3.0
Table of Contents
Acknowledgments
Early Summer
One
Two
1943
Three
Arrival
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Nona’s Party
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
1943
Twelve
Thirteen
family Meeting
Fourteen
1943–1944
Fifteen
Oliver’s Wedding
Sixteen
Seventeen
1945
Summer
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
1945–1946
Twenty-one
Birth
Twenty-two
Twenty-three
January 1946
Twenty-four
Twenty-five
Confessions
Twenty-six
Twenty-seven
Twenty-eight
Full Bloom
Twenty-nine
Thirty
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Nancy Thayer Page 35