by Anita Hughes
* * *
The fog cleared overnight, and Monday morning was crystal clear. I walked out onto the deck and sat down in front of a room service breakfast of sliced peaches and granola.
“Where are you off to today?” My mother had a New York Times spread out on the table and was eating an egg-white omelet.
“Edward says he has a surprise for Max. He’s meeting us in the lobby.” I wore a green cotton sundress, flat sandals, and the butterfly earrings. I had been rehearsing in the bathroom mirror what I would say if my mother noticed them (“they’re my new good-luck earrings” was my favorite response), but so far she hadn’t said a word.
“Do I have to come? I want to go surfing.” Max sat across from my mother, eating spoonfuls of jam from a mini jelly jar.
“The surprise is for you. Plus, I never get to see you. You always have a surfboard leash attached to your leg.” I shook my head.
“I didn’t get to surf at all yesterday.” Max pouted.
I finished my granola, wondering if it would be harder than I thought to tear Max away from the ocean at the end of the summer.
* * *
Max and I waited for Edward in the hotel driveway. Max had insisted on wearing boardshorts so he could surf the moment we got home.
A navy blue pickup truck pulled up and Edward waved. “Hop in,” he said, motioning to us.
“You traded the Mini for a truck?” I asked.
“No, I’m borrowing Edward Junior’s. Both sit up front with me,” Edward instructed.
“What’s the surprise?” Max asked.
“You’ll find out when we get to the beach.” Edward smiled.
It was odd sitting so close to Edward and not being able to touch him. My body remembered all the things he had done to me, and I wanted him to stroke me and kiss me, but Max was wedged on my other side.
We pulled up at Salt Creek Beach and Edward jumped out. He had a secret, very pleased look on his face.
“We’re at the beach,” Max said as he hopped out.
“I apologize for my impolite son.” I looked hard at Max. “He didn’t get to surf yesterday because of the fog, and he’s a little antsy.”
“Okay, Max, close your eyes,” Edward commanded.
Max rolled his eyes like a bored eight-year-old, and then put his hands over his face. Edward opened the back of the truck and placed a yellow surfboard on the sand.
“You can open your eyes.” Edward beamed.
“It’s a surfboard,” Max said cautiously.
“It was my son’s first surfboard, and now it’s yours.” Edward smiled.
“My surfboard?” Max’s voice rose a few octaves.
“Edward Junior picked it up from the house in Pasadena over the weekend. It’s all yours.”
“Why mine?” Max fell down on the sand and ran his hands over the fiberglass.
“Because from what I’ve heard, you are a champion surfer in the making. And to thank you for letting me borrow your mom now and then.”
“Wow!” Max couldn’t contain himself. “Can I surf right now?”
“Let me help you wax it up.”
* * *
I found a towel in the back of the truck and spread it out on the sand. When the surfboard was gleaming with wax, Max picked it up like a young warrior and headed into the waves. Edward sat down next to me, took my head in his hands, and kissed me hard on the lips.
“Hello, sunshine, I’ve missed you,” he said when he finally released me.
I let myself relax, snuggled in his arms. “I missed you, too.”
“And I missed this,” he said as he traced a path with his hands between my breasts, down my stomach, and between my legs.
“We’re at the beach in broad daylight.” I moved his hand away.
“I know.” He took my hand and held it in his. “But I want you. Hey, you’re wearing the earrings. Didn’t the Wicked Witch of San Francisco protest?”
“The Wicked Witch of San Francisco has become the permanent guest of the St. Regis. She has other things on her mind.” I smiled.
“What are you talking about?” Edward asked.
“My mother has decided she is going to stay at the St. Regis indefinitely.”
“You’re kidding. I thought she has a huge mansion in Pacific Heights.” Edward frowned.
“I guess she has been really lonely in the house without my father. He was like Hamlet’s ghost, lurking in every room,” I continued.
“I can understand. It’s good to be somewhere new.” Edward nodded.
“She looks wonderful. She’s not smoking. She’s put away her Chanel suits and is wearing sundresses and sandals.” I tried to keep my voice from cracking.
“You don’t sound too happy.” Edward stroked my cheek.
“I know I’m being a baby, but I’m going to miss her.”
“Why not move here with her?” Edward’s hand traveled to my thigh.
“She suggested that. But we belong in Ross.” I let him push open my thighs. His fingers slid under my dress and caressed my panties.
“Because that’s where your lothario ex-husband is?” He slipped his hand inside my panties.
“Because that’s where Max’s school is, and all his friends,” I replied. I felt a tiny jolt as his fingers found the sweet spot inside me.
“Max loves the hotel, he’s crazy about surfing. Laguna Beach has excellent schools. You should consider it.” He leaned forward and kissed me on the mouth.
“Max can’t live in a hotel. He’ll think it’s normal to have people polish his flip-flops.”
“Then rent a house, or you and Max can live with me.” He pushed his fingers further into me. He opened me up, kneading me until I was wet and trembling. I closed my eyes and felt the delicious wave of an orgasm spread over me.
“You can’t do that in public,” I whispered finally.
“Yes I can.” He sat up and looked at me. “I’m serious, Amanda.” He was always smiling, joking. I had never seen him look so stern.
“Serious about what?” I straightened my dress.
“I haven’t really dated since my divorce. What’s the point? I’d done the courtship-marriage-children thing and it ended on a train in the Australian outback. But I find I just want to be with you. When I’m not with you I’m thinking about you. I want to give us a chance to get to know each other. I’m with your mother: stay here.”
“You like me because I’m an easy lay,” I said, trying to laugh.
“No, I like you because I might be falling in love with you,” he said quietly.
“Oh.” I sat up straight.
“It’s a great life down here for Max,” he said.
“I’m not very good at change. I’ve lived in San Francisco my whole life,” I replied weakly.
“Sometimes change happens for us. Just think about it.”
Max came galloping toward us, dragging the surfboard on the sand.
“Did you see how many waves I caught? This board is awesome.”
“You’re a star, just like your mother. How about if I treat you two to a burger and shake at Ruby’s before I go to work?” Edward asked.
“Awesome! I’m starving. Did you watch me, Mom? This board goes so fast,” Max prattled on. We got in the truck and Edward pointed out to Max the different surf breaks along the coast. I sat silently between them, trying to take in what Edward had said.
At Ruby’s, I watched Max swallow a double cheeseburger, a side of onion rings, and an Oreo shake. I ordered a fruit cup and played with the grapes.
“Not hungry?” Edward whispered. His hand was on my thigh under the table.
“Not hungry.” I shook my head. I felt too feeble to make a jokey comeback.
“Max, make sure your mom eats a good dinner tonight,” Edward said out loud.
“Sure thing.” Max nodded. He looked as if he had grown six inches in one afternoon. “Wait till I show Erin my surfboard.” He finished his shake and wiped his chin with a napkin.
Edward drove us back to the hotel and the valets helped Max with his board.
“I have to work tonight. How about lunch at my place tomorrow?” Edward asked.
“Sounds delicious,” I said, grinning.
“I’ll pick you up at noon.” He winked at me.
I walked into the lobby and out onto the balcony. I sat at a table overlooking the Grand Lawn and replayed the afternoon in my head. Sex on the sand, Edward saying he was falling in love with me. I was going to have to call Stephanie.
* * *
I decided to hold off calling Stephanie and give myself a week to think. The truth was I wanted to lie in Edward’s bed, hot and sweaty, without Stephanie’s advice running through my head. I gave myself over to five blissful days of possibilities and indecision.
Every morning Max collected his surfboard and headed off to the beach with Erin. My mother had her own new routine: After a late breakfast she went to the salon and had her hair or her nails or her toes done. Then she took a few turns around the Grand Lawn and came back to the suite to watch The Young and the Restless.
Edward had to work each night so he picked me up at noon every day. The first day we made a halfhearted attempt to sit on the deck at his house and eat quiche and fruit salad. After a few bites, we both realized we’d rather be in his bed.
For the rest of the week we started in the bedroom. He would strip off my clothes, folding them neatly on the floor, before he undressed. Then he would lay me on the bed and lick my breasts, suck my fingers, cover my stomach with kisses. Only when I was dizzy with wanting him would he open my legs and slide into me. After we were both spent, we thought about eating.
We didn’t talk about Andre or Max or his children. We didn’t discuss what was going to happen at the end of the summer. But we did talk about movies, books, travel, the economy, the Internet, iPads, cars, pets, and roses. We talked and we ate and eventually we would clear away our picnic of fruit and wine and ham sandwiches, and make love again before he drove me home.
* * *
On Friday night, I lay on my own bed, feeling well satisfied but very confused. I watched the sun melt into a pink ball and wondered if I could just go on like this forever. School started in two weeks. I had missed several calls from Andre and Stephanie. My mother was so pleased with herself for making her decision to stay that she didn’t grill me about how I was spending my days or what my plans were. Max’s conversation was limited to the surfing vernacular he learned during the day.
I closed my eyes and let myself imagine what it would be like if Max and I stayed in Laguna Beach. We wouldn’t live at the hotel, and it was too soon to move in with Edward. But what if I rented a small house on the beach, and Max could surf every afternoon after school? I would join the PTA and maybe help Edward and Sam out at the restaurant.
My phone buzzed. It was Stephanie. “Hello,” I answered.
“Are you on the lam?” she asked.
“What?” I replied.
“I’ve been calling you for five days. I send you to Laguna Beach with a new summer wardrobe and you disappear. What’s going on?” she demanded.
“My mother has decided to stay at the St. Regis indefinitely. And Edward asked me to stay here, too. He said he’s falling in love with me,” I said.
“Can I interpret your radio silence to mean you’ve been having sex with him for the last week?” Stephanie asked.
“Yes,” I admitted guiltily.
“Is he good in bed?” she asked.
“Why do you want to know?” I laughed.
“Because if he’s mediocre you’re okay, but if he’s really good you have a problem.”
I thought about it. “Andre was so handsome, just looking at him was a sexual experience. But having sex was all about him. Edward makes me feel like I’m starring in my own porn movie. I didn’t know you could have so many orgasms!” I sighed.
“So you do have a problem. I might have to come down and inspect him myself.” She laughed.
“Can I really uproot Max just so I can see what happens with me and Edward?” I asked.
“It’s not like you’d be moving to a farm in Kansas. Laguna Beach is a lovely place to grow up. And you’d be near your mother. What do you have in Ross? Besides me of course.”
“All Max’s friends, his school, his dad.” I ticked them off on my finger.
“Have you heard from Andre?”
“He’s been calling. The last time I talked to him he swore he’s been faithful all summer and we should come home,” I said.
“I wouldn’t make any decisions based on that,” Stephanie murmured.
“I wasn’t going to,” I said. “I’ve got two weeks, what should I do?”
“You haven’t said how you feel about Edward, besides that he would direct a good skin flick.”
“I’m not sure how I feel about Edward. I’m happy when I’m with him. He’s funny, and he takes charge of things.”
“Like a father?” Stephanie mused.
“Cut the psychobabble. You need to stop watching Dr. Phil.”
“I want to hear all the sex details. Glenn’s out of town again and I haven’t had sex in days,” Stephanie said.
“How is that going to help me make a decision?” I complained.
“It won’t. But if I can’t watch Dr. Phil, I need some distraction.”
“Thanks for the help,” I muttered.
“It’ll come to you. Just don’t make any decisions for at least an hour after orgasm. It might color your judgment.”
* * *
I hung up and tried again to picture moving to Laguna Beach. I would have to find Max a new karate studio, a new pediatrician, a new dentist. He wouldn’t know a single child at school.
I imagined him running along the beach with a dog, a black Labrador or a beagle. He’d bang into the kitchen after a long day surfing, and I’d feed him stacks of turkey sandwiches and gallons of milk. Edward would come over in the evenings and we’d sit on the deck, eating nachos and guacamole. Maybe we’d all go skiing in Bear Valley, or take the ferry to Catalina Island.
If we stayed in Ross, I’d never meet another man. By the time Max became a teenager he’d be sick of me. He would spend all his time at his friends’ houses because if he brought them home, I’d be hovering around offering them snacks, and butting in on their conversations.
Andre would probably have some young babe installed in his house, and I’d see her at the post office every day. She’d cross the commons in tiny miniskirts and stiletto heels and the other mothers would whisper: “Poor Amanda, so sad.”
I rubbed my eyes. My phone rang again. It was Andre.
“Hello,” I answered.
“Amanda! I have wonderful news.”
“Okay,” I said.
“I got the restaurant covered this weekend and I’m flying down tomorrow afternoon to be with you and Max,” he announced.
“We’ll be home in two weeks! You don’t have to come now,” I protested.
“I need to talk to you, ma cherie, away from Ross.” His voice dropped into a slow, sexy drawl.
“I don’t want to talk to you,” I said. I felt a pain creep into the back of my neck.
“You will, when you hear what I have to say. À bientôt, ma cherie.” He hung up.
I put down my phone. What could Andre possibly have to say to me that he hadn’t made clear with his bevy of bachelorettes? I reached over and poured myself a brandy from the decanter on my bedside table. All that thinking had given me a headache.
I got up and went into the living room to put Max to bed. He lay on the sofa, Wii stick in hand, eyes glued to the screen. I sat down next to him and ran my fingers through his hair. I had to make a good decision for Max, not one based on sexual fantasies or my allergic reaction to Andre’s mistresses. I lay my head on Max’s forehead, wishing I was his age and had someone to make the decision for me.
Chapter Nine
I spent the next morning at the gym. I did thirty minutes on the tre
admill, twenty minutes in the sauna, half an hour on the ballet bar, and capped it off with fifteen minutes of stomach crunches. By lunchtime I was sore and hungry, but still hyperventilating at the thought of seeing Andre again. I ordered my favorite goat cheese and fennel salad at the spa café. When the waitress placed it in front of me, I suddenly felt sick, and sent it back to the kitchen.
I left the gym and walked along the golf course. Andre had left a message he would be at the hotel by six p.m. I would say a quick hello, and send him and Max off to have dinner. Then I would hide in the Tranquillity Room until he brought Max home. I hadn’t thought about where Andre would sleep. The thought of Andre staying at the St. Regis, even though there were 350 rooms, made me ill.
After three laps around the golf course, I felt better. I pictured Edward’s crooked smile, I remembered his body on top of mine, I thought about how his fingers probed and pushed me. I walked over the bluff of the ninth tee and saw the ocean glistening like a giant infinity pool. I was not going to let Andre’s presence disturb me.
My phone rang and I was relieved to see it was Edward.
“Good morning, sunshine,” he said.
“Hi,” I replied.
“I’ve missed you,” he said.
“I thought you might have had enough of me,” I laughed.
“I’m just beginning to get enough of you,” he countered, “but I’m calling to ask a favor.”
“Shoot,” I said.
“Sam came up with an Early Bird Special for tonight that’s a sellout. Do you think you could come help Gemma for a couple of hours? The crowd should be gone by eight p.m. We could cut out early and have a feast at my house. I promise to get you home by midnight.”
“I can’t come at six. Andre is flying down to see Max. I could be there by seven,” I replied.
“Why do you have to be there? Just have your mother meet him.” Edward’s voice had an edge to it.
“I can’t just let Max go with Andre without saying hello,” I replied.
“Why not?” Edward asked tersely.
“Max hasn’t seen him all summer.”