by Robin Brande
“Yeah, but think of some of those sled-racing moms. I’ll bet they’re no better—‘Run over his foot!’ You’ll see—vicious. So, will Teddy be at the game?”
“I happen to know Hildy is free this Friday,” Eliza said in response, “if you wanted to call her.”
Frank waved her off. “I haven’t lived this long from playing with bears.”
Eliza pretended to whip out a notepad and pen. “Another famous Frank Sawyer saying? Let me get that one down.”
“You let him hold your hand at least?”
“Who? Ted? Sure, he can hold my hand any time.”
Frank shook his head. “You gotta be careful there.”
“Careful how?”
“Man’s gonna want what he wants sooner or later.”
“Not really something I want to discuss with you, Frank.”
The editor shrugged. “Just some friendly advice.”
“Thanks.” Eliza pointed to the column on Frank’s desk. “I like that one. People are going to like it.”
“They always do. Like I said—you’re golden.”
* * *
“Oh, jeez!” Sue winced.
The woman next to her was more explicit. “Poke him! Poke him with your stick!”
Eliza glanced at the mother from the corner of her eye. Before the game started she had seemed so...normal.
“Aww! Come on!” The woman rose to her feet and jabbed her fist into the air. “Come on, Robby, hit him!”
“Well,” Eliza murmured.
“I know,” Sue whispered back. “It gets really bad.”
Eliza sank lower into the lawn chair Sue had brought for her and studied the players from beneath the brim of her hat. She studied, too, one of the adults standing on the opposite side of the field clapping his hands and shouting to the kids on Danny’s team.
“You didn’t tell me David was the coach.”
“Surprised?”
“Very.” Eliza caught herself. “I mean, I didn’t think he’d have the time for something like that.”
“He makes time. He’s really pretty good with the boys.”
“He just seems so...”
Sue turned to her and smiled. “Yes? So...”
“I know he’s your brother, but you have to have noticed he’s not very...friendly.”
“He’s a little shy, I admit.”
Shy? Eliza thought. More like hostile. “Does he ever say more than two words to anyone, or is it just me?”
“He’s not as outgoing as Ted. But he’s really a sweet man, once you get to know him.”
Eliza thought of her many interactions with David Walsh over the past few months, from their run-ins on her walks with Daisy to his stern, almost disdainful treatment of her the few times they’d seen each other socially since the disastrous Easter dinner. “Sweet” was not a word she would pin on him.
“David’s not that comfortable with people,” Sue explained. “And Ted seems to cover that for all of us.”
“You’re pretty outgoing.”
“Yeah, but I’m different,” Sue said.
“That’s what Ted says about David.”
“I guess we’re all three different, then. Must be why we get along.” Sue broke off to stand and cheer for Danny as he raced down the field toward the goal. He passed the ball with a flick of his wrist, then accepted it again, catching it smoothly inside the net of his lacrosse stick.
“That looks really hard,” Eliza said.
“It’s impossible. You should try it. I can’t seem to get my eyes and hands to work together.”
At the half, Danny plopped onto the grass beside his mother. His face was red with exertion. “Hi, Eliza.”
“Hey. Looking really good out there. Some nice passes.”
“Thanks.” He pawed through his mother’s tote bag.
“Ooh, don’t touch anything,” Sue warned, “you’re sweaty.” She handed Danny a sports drink and a granola bar.
“Did you see twenty-two?” Danny asked his mother. “He fouled me twice, and the ref didn’t call it.” While mother and son analyzed the game so far, Eliza stole a look at the team’s coach.
David spoke animatedly to two of his players, gesturing toward the field, then drawing plays on the grass. He didn’t seem angry, and the boys didn’t respond as if he were, but something about his expression always made him seem so severe and unapproachable. Such a contrast between him and his brother. Eliza still couldn’t get over it.
Danny ran back to join his team for the second half. Sue and Eliza settled back into their chairs and pulled their hats low against the glare of the sun.
“So,” Sue asked, “has Teddy asked you to the lake yet?”
“No, what lake?”
“Our family has a place up in the Adirondacks, right off one of the lakes. John and the boys and I are going up next weekend. I told Ted to ask you.”
“That sounds nice. I’d like to.” Eliza watched the game a few minutes more before asking casually, “Um, not to be too...prudish, but what would the sleeping arrangements be?”
Sue took her eyes off the game to give her full attention to a topic far more interesting. “So that’s how it is? I’m shocked.”
Eliza flushed. “It’s just that—”
“I’m just teasing you,” Sue said. “No need to explain—it’s none of my business. I’m just a little surprised, knowing Teddy. But really—I don’t want to know. The answer is there are plenty of bedrooms for all of us. Four on the top floor, two on the bottom, and two couches in the living room.”
“Wow. Pretty big place.”
“It was great having it growing up. We had some huge parties there when we were in high school.”
“Did your parents know?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
After the game Eliza had yet another opportunity to be disappointed by David Walsh’s manners.
“Great job,” she told him.
He nodded in response.
“How long have you coached?”
“I don’t know—hey, Sean! Don’t forget your cleats!” He jogged away from Eliza to reunite the boy with his shoes.
“Nice talking to you, too,” she mumbled.
Sue caught the exchange. “You need to keep in mind he doesn’t really know how to talk to women. That was pretty good for him.”
“I don’t know what I ever did to him—no, on second thought, I do. I almost let Hildy’s dog eat Bear.”
“Oh, that would do it,” Sue said. “I once scolded Bear for chewing the strap off my purse when I wasn’t looking, and David gave me a ten-minute lecture about ‘there are no bad dogs, only bad owners.’ And apparently bad sisters.”
“But the two of you get along?”
Sue smiled. “David’s great. He’s been a great big brother. And a great uncle to my boys.”
Eliza shook her head.
“What?” Sue asked.
“Nothing, it’s just...I mean, I’m sure he’s as nice as Ted—”
“Nicer,” Sue said. “You just have to get to know him.”
Hard to believe, Eliza thought as she watched David drive away without saying goodbye to his sister or anyone else.
14
“Don’t forget your bathing suit,” Hildy said.
“I know.” Eliza was nervous enough packing for the trip without her mother-in-law evaluating everything she put in her bag.
“Not those sandals—take the blue ones.”
“Do you mind?” Eliza said.
“I’m just saying—”
“This isn’t a fashion show.”
“Will Livia Keane be there?” Hildy asked.
“No.”
“Okay, then wear what you want.”
Eliza paused in her packing. “Why should that make any difference?”
“Because I don’t want that woman criticizing you in front of Ted,” Hildy said. “I know she’d do it.”
“Why do you have it in for her?”
“Because I kn
ow lots of women just like her,” Hildy said. “Snooty east coast girls who think they invented how to dress and act.” She shook her head in disgust. “Never could stand a girl like that.”
“Why should I care what she thinks about me anyway? I’m not trying to impress her.”
“But who needs to hear it?” Hildy argued. “‘Oh, you’re wearing that?’ Drives me crazy.”
Eliza smiled. She loved hearing new items added to the collection of things that rubbed Hildy wrong. Her mother-in-law could be such a generous, forgiving person in so many respects, but a few specific things always set her off: bad cooking, bad manners, snobby rich people, and now, apparently, snooty east coast girls.
Eliza searched her dresser for her two nicest pairs of underwear and threw them onto the bed. Then she added a modest nightgown and robe.
Hildy eyed the nightgown. “Where you going to sleep?”
“In one of the bedrooms.”
“Alone?”
“Who are you—Frank Sawyer? You’re about as nosy. That’s how I know you’d be perfect for each other.”
“That old buzzard. Don’t change the subject.”
“Oh, that’s right, because my personal life is fair game, but yours isn’t?”
“What do I need another old man for? I already took care of one.”
“That’s a nice way to talk about Ron.”
“Honey, you know what I mean. I loved that man to the bottom of his toes, but those last few years were hard labor. Why would I want to take care of another one?”
“Because maybe he’d take care of you,” Eliza said. “Besides, can’t you be the least bit romantic? Think of the good parts—having someone to go to the movies with, going out to dinner—”
“What, you’re going to stop doing all those things with me?”
Eliza scowled. “So it’s okay for you to force me to go out with Ted, but I’m not allowed to fix you up with Frank.”
“Force you? I didn’t know you were suffering. Seems to me you got good and googly-eyed over Teddy all by yourself.”
“Don’t change the subject. You, madam, are a bossy old cow. And you can dish it out but you can’t take it.”
“So sue me. What time is he picking you up?”
Eliza checked her watch. “Soon.”
“Are you nervous?”
“Of course.”
“Are you going to let him get to second base?”
“Mind your own business,” Eliza said. “Go get your own boyfriend.”
Hildy reached for her daughter-in-law’s hand, and pulled her down beside her. Eliza sat on the bed with her hands between her legs, prepared for the motherly lecture she suspected was coming.
“It’s okay,” Hildy began.
“I know.”
“You’re not doing anything wrong.”
Eliza sighed. “I know.”
“If you like him, he likes you…” Hildy shrugged. “Things can happen.”
Eliza tried to stand, but Hildy caught her wrist. Eliza chuckled. “What? Can I go?”
“Not until you promise me.”
“Promise what?”
“That you’ll let yourself have a good time.”
Eliza raised her right hand. “I do solemnly swear I will laugh once a day.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I’m sure I do.” Eliza gave her mother-in-law a peck on the cheek. “You’ll be okay for a few days without me?”
“Yeah, me and Frank are going to whoop it up.”
“Not really?”
Hildy slapped Eliza on the rear. “Go have fun, young lady. I want to hear all about it.”
* * *
Ted stood at the door wearing shorts and a black knit shirt with “Walsh’s Fine Foods” stitched in yellow above the chest. He pushed his sunglasses down his nose and motioned with his eyes toward the SUV behind him. “Sorry, but we have company.”
Eliza peered past Ted’s shoulder to the two waiting passengers.
“Livia heard about it, and they sort of...invited themselves.”
Eliza punched him gamely in the shoulder. “It’ll be fun. Don’t worry.”
“Fun? With David?”
“Be nice.”
“He’ll probably make me go over the books while we’re there.” He lowered his voice in imitation of his brother: “‘The Delmar store isn’t looking so good. They lost a penny last month. We need to analyze costs. Put down that beer—boot up the spreadsheet.’”
Eliza followed him to the vehicle, determined to be cheerful. “Hi, guys. Oh, Bear’s coming? Hi, boy. How are you?”
The dog lifted his head from David’s lap and thumped his tail against Livia’s thighs in greeting.
“Of course—can’t forget the dog!” Livia said with a forced smile as she pushed the dog further toward David. She brushed away the smear of dirt Bear had left on her red and white-striped sundress.
Eliza took note of the rest of her ensemble: high-heeled sandals, a white straw hat, full makeup, nails that looked fresh from the salon.
David wore khaki slacks, brown loafers, and a blue button down shirt. Together the two of them looked like what they were: a wealthy couple on their way to his summer house.
Eliza could see Livia scrutinizing her outfit in return: the backpacking pants with zip-off legs—so handy for converting them to shorts so she could wade across rivers; a long-sleeved light blue shirt made of sun-protective fabric; light hiking shoes; and a wide-brimmed cotton hat for keeping the sun off her face.
“Afraid you might accidentally get a tan?” Livia asked.
“When you grow up in Nevada,” Eliza replied, “you learn to hide from the sun.”
Livia tilted back her straw hat. “Not me. I plan on lying on the dock for hours.”
Skin cancer, premature aging...Eliza nodded politely and kept her Public Service Announcement to herself.
“I want to point out, Livia,” Ted said, slamming down the rear door, “that Eliza only brought one bag. At least some women know how to pack.”
Livia waved her soft, manicured hand. “Some of us know how to make a good impression,” she told Ted. “Not that you don’t, Eliza, of course. Just a different impression.”
In the front seat, Ted flicked his hand against Eliza’s leg. She caught his fingers and squeezed. She didn’t dare catch his eye.
“Okay!” Ted said merrily. “Won’t this be fun?”
* * *
The two-hour drive from Syracuse to the mountains was a feast of green for Eliza’s desert-trained eyes. She had grown up in the brown, baked landscape of Nevada, where residents boasted of the “dry heat” and where having a lawn was an indulgence—or a sin, depending on a person’s attitude about water conservation.
Here in upstate New York, shamelessly lush front lawns gave way to farmlands lined with alfalfa, to the cool pine trees, rivers, and lakes of the Adirondack mountains. Eliza rested her head against her seat and gazed out the window, drinking in the scenery while trying to tune out Livia’s endless chatter.
“I imagine there’ll be some concerts up there, won’t there, David?” she asked. “I should have looked that up before we came. Do you know if there’s anything going on this weekend?”
“No.”
“Not that hanging around with your sister and the kids and the dog won’t be fascinating, but maybe we’d all like to get out for a little break. Would you like that, Eliza?”
“Sure.”
“So, David,” Ted said, “you ready for some fishing?”
“If I have time. I brought some work.”
“I told him no work on this trip,” Livia said. She reached over to pat his thigh, and had to settle for patting the dog instead. Bear wagged against her dress in gratitude. “We’re going to relax. I had tons of work I could have brought—the new TV spots need a desperate overhaul—but I deliberately left it all behind. Tuesday will be soon enough, right, honey?”
David ignored her and looked out the window. Bear’s tai
l continued to thump while David scratched the Lab behind the ear.
Eliza wondered about David and Livia’s relationship. From what she’d seen, Livia did all the pursuing, all the talking, all the touching. David didn’t recoil, but he didn’t seem to encourage any of it, either. He was the most passive participant in a couple Eliza had ever seen.
She wondered how she and Ted appeared to other people. Ted was affectionate, holding her hand, putting his arm over her shoulder or around her waist, occasionally kissing her on the cheek, but so far that—and one or two kisses Eliza had made sure stopped too soon—had been the extent of their physical relationship. Eliza was clear about her boundaries. She had broached the subject at the first sign that things were moving too quickly.
“Do you mind if we talk about something out loud?” she asked one night before getting out of Ted’s car at the end of a date. She felt safer talking to him in the dark, where he couldn’t see how nervous she was.
“Okay, sure.”
She had rehearsed it, planned it, but now that the moment was here she dreaded saying what she knew she had to. Couldn’t she send him an e-mail instead? Slip a note under his door?
“It’s about...sleeping together.”
“Ah.”
“And I just have to ask,” she blundered on before she lost her nerve, “I need you to...keep being patient.”
“Hmm.”
Eliza studied his profile. Was he annoyed? Tired of this high-maintenance woman?
She took a breath and bravely continued. “Look, I understand you’re probably used to…”
“Sex?”
“Right.”
“It’s true,” Ted said, “I am.”
“And I understand, if this is too...weird for you.”
Ted leaned against his car door and looked at her. “You mean reliving my teenage fantasies about whether I’ll ever get to sleep with a girl I have a crush on? Yeah, it is a little weird.”
“I’m sorry. Maybe...maybe we shouldn’t go out any more. Maybe this is too hard.”
“Eliza...hold on. Come here.” Ted met her halfway and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “Can you at least pretend to relax?”