Lakeside Cottage

by Susan Wiggs

  The elephant seal had more sex than she did. At least it mated once a year.

  A swift version of all these thoughts and rationalizations whirled through Kate’s mind when she realized she had overslept. It was past nine o’clock. And someone was breaking into the house.

  She sat up straight in bed. Maybe she had dreamed it.

  But no. There was a rhythmic tinkering sound that sent chills through her.

  Aaron.

  She moved like a fluid shadow, coming up out of the bed while simultaneously pulling a bathrobe over her Chantilly lace baby dolls, skimming silent and barefoot down the hall to his room.

  His door was ajar, the bed empty.

  Aaron.

  Driven by panic, she rushed down the stairs and burst out onto the porch, prepared to scream. Then she saw them.

  Aaron and JD were working together on the lawn, putting a chain on a bicycle.

  “Hey, Mom,” Aaron called out, barely looking at her. “Me and JD are fixing this bike.”

  Barefoot and wearing Spider-Man pajamas, Aaron kept working. JD stood up, removing his hat in gentlemanly fashion. “Morning, Kate,” he said. She heard a curious note in his voice. She saw an odd, almost pained look shadow his face.

  Then it dawned on her what he was staring at. Her bathrobe was gaping open, showing off the skimpy baby dolls.

  With a firm tug, she closed the gap and tied on the belt. But she was not quick enough to discount an undeniable reaction. Though he stood clear across the yard, she could feel his gaze like a burning caress. Everywhere his stare touched her, she was lit on fire.

  She could feel the heat in her cheeks and wished she didn’t blush so easily. She hoped her voice sounded casual and perhaps even dismissive when she said, “We don’t usually entertain company first thing in the morning.”

  “You’re doing a good job, though,” he said mildly. “Of entertaining.”

  Her attention flickered to Aaron. If he picked up on the innuendo, she was going to kill JD. To her relief, Aaron remained absorbed by the dark, greasy chain.

  She took a deep, flustered breath. “I’m going to make coffee.”

  He nodded, almost but not quite a dismissal.

  She all but fled into the kitchen and made a huge racket putting together the old percolator with the glass lid. So much for her vow to stick to tea all summer. This morning, she definitely needed a jolt. She didn’t worry about Callie waking up. On her day off, the girl slept like the dead.

  Once she had the coffee on, she rushed to the bathroom and stood at the sink, staring into the mirror. She looked exactly like what she was, a woman who had just tumbled out of bed. Hair loose, no makeup, and that soft, unguarded look of someone stirred from sleep.

  “Too sexy for your robe,” she muttered, grabbing her toothbrush. Now, once again, she was faced with the dilemma of how much to primp for him. Did she comb her hair, wash her face? What about makeup?

  “Oh, come on,” she grumbled, spitting toothpaste. “Grow up.”

  She ought to put on the Slug Death T-shirt. Then she worried that it would remind him of the last time he’d seen her in it, soaking wet, no bra. She considered cropped pants and a short white top. No, that revealed her midriff, which was a perfectly fine midriff but she didn’t want to show him any skin. Frustrated, she simply belted the robe more securely, washed her face, combed her hair and grabbed a pair of flip-flops. That was the image she wanted to project—modest, casual and utterly uninterested in impressing him.

  All right, so maybe she brushed her hair until it shone and put on lip gloss. That was simply good grooming, after all.

  She took her time heading down to the kitchen. No need to give him the notion that she was in a hurry. She hadn’t seen him since dinner the previous week. Each day, she spent far too much time thinking up ways to encounter him again. She’d already used the bicycle-pump excuse, but there were many others—the faulty porch light, a hedge that needed pruning, even the old kite-stuck-in-the-tree ploy. Never mind that the kite had been there since 1998; she actually considered asking him to get it down.

  Aaron didn’t need any excuses, and didn’t know how to be coy about his liking for JD.

  When Kate came downstairs, her robe firmly belted, the house was empty. In the kitchen, the coffee had percolated and the burner was turned off. Neither JD nor Aaron was in sight. Bandit sat in misery at the door, looking forlornly through the screen.

  Kate poured herself a cup of coffee, opened the door and followed the dog outside. Aaron and JD were using Gojo to get the grease off their hands.

  “Mom,” Aaron said, “we’re going on a bike ride, okay? Is it okay, Mom? I ate breakfast already and I’ve got my helmet.”

  “Sure,” she said. “Go upstairs and get dressed. Long pants and sneakers. I’m not letting you go barefoot.”

  “So this is all right with you?” JD asked.

  “It had better be, or I’ll have one unhappy camper on my hands.” She offered her first smile of the day. “This means the world to him,” she assured JD.

  “We’ll stay on the road in sight of the house.” They stood watching the water. Rings formed here and there, fish rising to feed.

  “If he pesters you,” Kate said, “just bring him right home.”

  “He doesn’t pester me. He’s a good kid. You must be proud, Kate.”

  He’s a good kid. The words meant more to her than he could know. “I am,” she said, then bit her lip. She considered warning him about Aaron’s temper but decided against it. Sooner or later, he’d discover it on his own.

  “So his father—”

  “Like I said, not in the picture.” She wasn’t eager to discuss Nathan, but she wanted JD to understand. “He never has been, never will be. We get nothing from him and more importantly, we want nothing from him.” That was almost true. In fact, Aaron was desperate for a father.

  “His loss,” JD said simply.

  All right, that’s twice, Kate thought, feeling a rush of pleasurable heat. Twice today that he’d said exactly the right thing, and it wasn’t even ten in the morning. She grew flustered under his scrutiny and sought to change the subject. “I’ve been meaning to ask you. How did it work out with Callie?”

  “She did a good job for me.”

  “She’s a good worker.”

  “Did she say anything?”

  Kate raised her eyebrows. She was having flashbacks to junior high. “About what?”

  “Nothing. Just making sure she didn’t have any complaints about working for me.”

  On the contrary, Callie had been in a wonderful mood after finishing up at his place. “He’s awesome,” she’d practically sung. Kate decided he didn’t need to hear that from her. “No complaints,” she said.

  He hooked his thumbs into his back pockets and watched the lake some more. Their silences, Kate reflected, were not awkward. Not even with her standing here in her robe.

  “Have dinner with me, Kate.” The invitation came out of the blue, startling her.

  “I promised Aaron hot dogs tonight.” Her reply was swift and automatic.

  “Callie can fix them. I want to take you to dinner, just the two of us.”

  “Why?”

  “I could say it’s to thank you for supper the other night.”

  “You could say that.”

  “I could also say I’m attracted to you and I’d love to take you out.”

  That was probably it, Kate reflected crazily. There was always a moment when you knew you were going to sleep with a man, and she knew that moment had arrived. It was embarrassing how little it took. I’m attracted to you and I’d love to take you out. Oh, Kate, she thought. “All right. Not tonight, though.” Best not to seem too eager and available, she reminded herself.

  “Friday, then,” he said.

  “Friday’s perfect if Callie’s willing to watch Aaron.” She saw the way he was looking at her. “Is it the lingerie?” she asked before she could stop herself.

  He turned,
a grin spreading slowly across his face. “I was attracted to you before I saw what you sleep in.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Of course, I’m glad…” With one finger, he gently parted the robe at the top, and she was too stunned to stop him. “Glad about this.”

  “Why?”

  “Gives me something to think about. For the rest of the summer, I’ll never be bored.”

  Fourteen

  On Friday, Callie had only one cleaning job, which she finished at lunchtime. Kate loaded up a cooler and a bag of towels, threw the lawn chairs in the Jeep and drove them to the small public beach at the east end of the lake. Eager to be in the water, Aaron went to join a group of kids playing in the shallows, and Kate and Callie sat down to relax with their lunch.

  “I have a favor to ask you,” Kate said.

  “Sure.”

  “Can you watch Aaron tonight?”

  Callie didn’t answer right away. She studied Kate, then said, “Oh, my God. You’re red as a beet. You’re going out with JD.”

  “Do you think it’s a bad idea?”

  “Let me see. He’s totally into you. He likes Aaron. He’s a…cool guy. And you’re worried it might be a bad idea?”

  Kate rubbed her cheeks, wishing she could make the red go away. “I have my insecurities when it comes to dating.”

  “I’ll watch him,” Callie said. “I’ve got nothing else to do.” She seemed a little too nonchalant. “How is the article coming?” she asked, sipping lemonade from a can.

  Kate smiled distractedly. It was nice having someone to talk to, even a sometimes-moody teenager. “It’s done. And I have both good news and bad news. The good news is, it’ll be published next February. The bad news is, my editor is leaving. That means the person who was my contact and a fan of my work there won’t be around anymore.”

  “So what’re you going to do?”

  “Well, that’s the very weird part of all this. My editor is going to work for a much bigger magazine, and she wants to stay in touch.” She paused, hardly daring to say it. “Ever heard of Vanity Fair?”

  “Are you kidding? I love that magazine. The photos are crazy. Is that where your editor’s going? And she wants to publish your articles?”

  “That’s where she’s going. And she said she wants to stay in touch. But trust me, she doesn’t want me to write her articles about guys who died a long time ago. If I’m going to impress her, I’ll need to find something more contemporary and relevant. Something that illuminates someone’s life right now.”

  “Like what? Doesn’t that magazine specialize in sports gods and celebrities?”

  “I think you’re right. Too bad I don’t know any celebrities.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “A hundred percent.”

  Callie looked pained, as though she wanted to argue. Then she blew out a breath in exasperation. “I guess you’d better think up another angle.”

  “I’m working on it. But not today.” She leaned back in her lawn chair and folded her arms behind her head.

  Callie put on a pair of cheap sunglasses and gazed at the people on the beach. “I always wonder, when I see strangers, who they are, what their lives are like.”

  “When I was your age, I was looking at cute boys.”

  “I look at cute boys,” Callie protested. “There’s one.” She indicated a guy in trunks and a muscle shirt playing volleyball.

  “Hmm,” Kate said, following her gaze. “Late teens and he’s already got the beginnings of a beer gut. Heavens, my mouth,” she said, instantly apologetic.

  “Don’t worry, you’re right. Just because I’m overweight doesn’t mean I think it’s attractive.”

  “It was a dumb thing to say. He’s probably a perfectly nice person—”

  “Fat kids always are.” Callie waved away her apology and pointed at another guy.

  Though Callie was forgiving, Kate wasn’t. She wanted to kick herself. Dealing with a teenager—and a girl at that—was much different than dealing with a little boy. There were land mines everywhere.

  “Now, there’s a great body,” Callie murmured.

  Kate studied the new specimen. Sculpted, smoothed, tanned and glistening, the square-jawed young man looked as though he’d been dipped in caramel. “Nice,” she agreed, “but that’s a gym body.”

  “What’s that?”

  “He spends hours at the gym getting into that shape. Probably spent a fortune on the best club in town, maybe personal trainer, too. Oh, and all the body shaving and oil is expensive. It’s fine for a guy to take pride in his appearance, but when he spends so much time doing it, where does that leave his girlfriend?”

  “Waiting outside the locker room?”

  “You’re a quick study. How about this one?” Kate nodded toward a dark-haired, slender boy in cutoffs and a bandanna around his head.

  “How about him?” Callie said softly, and smiled.

  Kate glanced over at her, then did a double take. It was true that she believed Callie was a very pretty girl despite her troubles with self-esteem. But when she saw the way Callie was gazing at the lanky boy, she revised her opinion. When her eyes shone and she smiled that way, she was downright beautiful.

  Callie waved her arm, and when she caught his attention, he veered toward them.

  “You know him?” Kate asked.

  “Luke Newman.”

  “Well, what do you know,” Kate said. “I never would have recognized him.”

  Callie composed herself in time to greet him with an offhand “Hey, Luke.”

  “Hey.” The boy seemed nervous, looking over his shoulder.

  “This is Kate Livingston, the one I’m staying with,” Callie said. “Aaron’s mom.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “We met years and years ago,” Kate told him. “I’m a friend of your grandmother’s. So you’re spending the summer with her?”

  “Yes, ma’am. That’s right.” Luke glanced around almost furtively. Kate sensed he might not want to be seen with her, but she gave him the benefit of the doubt and offered him a lemonade. He hunkered down in the sand beside Callie’s chair. “So you’re off work this afternoon?”

  Kate decided to give them a little privacy. She got up, saying, “I was just going to take Aaron for a swim.” She headed down to the water. So Callie had made a friend, she thought, encouraged by the development. And one who looked like a homecoming king, at that. Luke seemed a bit awkward, even secretive in his manner, but perhaps in time they’d get past that phase. It was always a critical time in any relationship, seeing if you could get past that fumbling stage and discover more about each other.

  There was much to discover about Callie, and Kate was pleased to observe that the boy called Luke seemed to appreciate that.

  Good, she thought. It was time somebody did.

  It was so insane, getting nervous about a date. Kate had dated before. She was used to this. In fact, one reason she dated so much was that she failed so often.

  Most men stopped calling after they learned she had a half-grown son. That was what Kate told herself, anyway.

  Now she studied her reflection in the mirror, and doubts crept in. What if I’m the problem? she wondered. What if I’m the one they don’t like?

  She sat down on the bed and stared at the floor. She often told herself men didn’t want to get involved because she had a child. Deep down, she knew it was a lie. It was her, Kate, all along, driving people away, and maybe it was time she faced up to that.

  She shivered, not because she was cold but because the notion was something she had never even begun to deal with. She looked longingly at the cell phone, so useless here at the cottage. What she wouldn’t give to call her mother right now and—

  And what? Ask her if men dumped her because of her or because of Aaron? It wasn’t fair to ask her mother that. Her question would be better posed to the men who had dumped her.

  “Brilliant, Kate,” she muttered. “Just brilliant. I
t’s every man’s dream to hear from an ex-girlfriend wanting the truth about why he stopped seeing her.”

  She leaned toward the mirror and put on Peach Melba lipstick. All right, she conceded, blotting her lips, bad idea. There was probably a statute of limitations on calling ex-boyfriends to sift through the aftermath of a failed romance.

  From now on, she thought, putting a few things into a small, sleek handbag, I’ll ask the guy up front. When JD dumps me, I’ll make him explain exactly why.

  “Oh, good attitude, Kate,” she said, still talking to herself, as she slid her feet into black satin sandals. “That’s the power of positive thinking, for sure.”

  She sprayed on a little perfume, grabbed her bag and hurried downstairs to sit with the kids until JD came to pick her up. It was funny how easily she slipped into thinking of Callie as one of the kids, as though she had always belonged to Kate.

  Stepping out onto the porch, she saw that they had laid out the ancient croquet set and were locked in a hot competition. Bandit slept in a patch of sunlight on the doormat.

  “Mom,” yelled Aaron. “Hey, Mom.”

  “I hear you, buddy,” Kate said.

  “You don’t need to yell,” Callie said, “she’s right there.”

  “I know that,” Aaron said. “Hey, Mom, look where I am.” He pointed to a blue-striped ball. “Two wickets ahead.”

  “We’ll see about that.” Callie took aim with her yellow ball and gave it a firm whack. It tumbled through the wicket she was aiming for, giving her another shot. She made this one, too, catching up with Aaron.

  He hopped from one foot to the other in agitation.

  Callie scowled. “Do you need to use the bathroom or something?”

  He scowled back.

  “Stand still. You’re messing up my aim.”

  He fidgeted even more, his jaw set in defiance.

  Kate resisted the urge to intervene. She was not supposed to manage every moment of his life, especially not a flare-up over a game of croquet.

  Callie turned her back on him and hit, not only getting through the next wicket but landing her ball right up against his.

  “Hate to do this, kid,” she said, bracing her foot on top of her ball as she prepared to knock his out of bounds.