The Summer House

by Hannah McKinnon

  “I do. But I don’t think Dad meant to assign any hope or expectation on you with that comment, Sam. I really think he was clueless. He knew you were hurting, that you were struggling with something, like we all did. But he didn’t get it. That’s Dad. He’s always wandering around lost in a book, lost in a fog of thought. That’s just who he is. It had nothing do with who he wanted you to be.”

  Sam heard the words, and he tried to believe them. Oh, how hard he wanted to believe them. But there were other signs, too.

  “He hurt his hand that day, Paige. He was so mad or disappointed, or whatever, that he punched something and busted up his hand. That sounds to me like disappointment.”

  Next to him Paige shifted abruptly in the sand. She squeezed his arm, hard. “Wait, you didn’t know?”

  He looked over at her. “Know what?”

  “What dad did to his hand?”

  Sam shook his head. “He was so mad he hit something.”

  “He hit something, all right. Sam, he went over to Brad Aaron’s house to ask about that night. To tell his dad about me and you, and the fight at the beach party the night before.”

  Sam sat back, studying Paige’s eyes. The green flecks flashed like they always did when she got excited. “No one ever told me that.”

  “Sam, Dad punched Brad Aaron’s dad. Right in the face. Broke his hand doing it.”

  Sam exhaled in a short burst. “What?”

  Paige was nodding, smiling. “Yeah, our dad the bookworm professor, who couldn’t swing a hammer or trim the hedges, walked across the street to talk to Mr. Aaron about the incident with Brad. I don’t think he had any intention of getting into it, physically. But things turned bad.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I was sitting on the stairs, listening to Mom and Dad talk about it, after what happened at breakfast when you took off that morning. Mom was actually against him going over there, but he was determined.”

  “Did she go, too?”

  Paige shook her head. “No, but I did.”

  Sam’s eyes widened.

  “I was scared. You’d run off like that, Mom and Dad were arguing in the kitchen. I wanted to know what was going to happen. So I rode my bike over after he left, and hung out in the neighbor’s driveway where I could sort of hear.”

  “What happened?”

  “I couldn’t hear all of it, but it started calmly. Dad said he wanted to talk to him. You know Mr. Aaron—not the nicest guy. He seemed to dismiss the whole thing, started blaming us kids.”

  “I still can’t see Dad hitting anyone. It’s not who he is.”

  Paige paused. “It’s not. Dad seemed to give up and started walking back home. But then Mr. Aaron said something.”

  “Tell me, Paige.”

  She bit her lip. “He shouted after Dad. It was about you.”

  Sam knew immediately. He wasn’t sure which name or slang word or hateful thing it was, but he knew the gist of it right then and there.

  “Which word?”

  Paige didn’t want to say it, he could tell. But she did. “He told Dad that he should teach you how to be a man. Dad turned around and asked him what he meant. That’s when Mr. Aaron said, ‘You’re raising a fag’.”

  Sam sat back on his haunches and stared at her in disbelief. “Jesus, Paige.”

  “I know, I’m sorry.”

  “No, that guy was always an asshole. It’s the fact that all this time, no one ever thought to tell me?”

  “I know, believe me. I raced back home. Mom shooed me upstairs when Dad came through the door with his hand covered in blood. I tried to listen in, but you know them—there was a lot of frantic whispering and Mom gasped a few times. I got the sense Mr. Aaron said something pretty awful. Later, Mom told me I couldn’t say a word to you or Clem, and not to dare mention it to Dad. It was this big secret.”

  “But why? The things I thought over the years. I thought Dad was ashamed, or wished I’d been different.” Sam stood up angrily, brushed the sand off his legs.

  Paige was watching him, her expression full of concern. “If I’d known you felt that way, of course I would’ve told you. But you know this family. It’s a vault. They never spoke of it, but neither did you.”

  Sam did know. He had been one, himself, for many years. He also knew what a burden it was to keep quiet over time.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, again.

  He stood up. “You were a kid. And you did what Mom asked you to.” And then Sam did something he hadn’t done any time he could remember. He hugged Paige, hard.

  She clapped him on the back, and he let go. Wordlessly, they both turned back for home.

  Clem

  Stand still, baby.” Clem pinned the oversized grosgrain bow to Maddy’s hair and stepped back. Maddy twirled in her sundress, the periwinkle skirt billowing out over her tiny legs like a burgeoning flower on its stem.

  “Cars, everyone! Cars are leaving,” Flossy called from downstairs. She clapped her hands for emphasis.

  Clem did a quick inspection of herself in the mirror. Her hair was pulled back in a loose chignon, and her white tunic looked flowy and loose. Just as she felt. It had been a good week, and her chest plumed with sadness at the thought of this being the last two days.

  Richard was looking rather dapper behind the wheel of the VW in a seersucker jacket.

  Flossy wiggled her nose. “Really, Richard? Where on earth did you find that relic?”

  “I thought you’d appreciate that it still fits.” He beeped the horn for good measure.

  “I want to go with Grampa!” George shouted. Clem had already explained to the kids that their boosters wouldn’t fit into the rear bucket seats. They did not care.

  “I don’t want to sit in that baby seat anymore,” George whined. “I like Grampy’s car. And tonight is special!”

  Clem groaned. She tugged the boosters from the back of her SUV and managed to wiggle them into the back of the Bug, mostly in position. “All right, everybody in. Ocean House, here we come.”

  Bay Street was teeming with tourists on a Friday night. “Isn’t it quicker to just turn up Plympton Hill?” Sam asked.

  “Yes, but that’s not tradition,” Clem told him as she cruised behind Richard and Flossy. The kids kept turning and waving at her.

  “We always go down Bay Street and drive up along Bluff Avenue,” Paige reminded them all. “Let’s turn off the AC and roll the windows down.”

  Sam groaned from the passenger seat, but Evan already had his down in the back. “Good. I love looking at all the old mansions.”

  “It’s so sad that our week is almost over,” Clem said as she slowed to let a family cross.

  “Ha. We have yet to survive the birthday,” Sam said.

  At the end of Bay, they curved left uphill along Larkin, and onto Bluff Avenue and Little Narragansett Bay sparkled under the cloudless blue sky. Immense historic Victorian mansions rose up on their right, nestled along the steep bluff. Behind them, impeccable emerald green lawns swept down to meet the beach. “My God, this is a view. It’s nothing but blue sky and surf.”

  “And old money,” Sam added. “Look, there’s Taylor Swift’s house.”

  “That would be new money,” David said. They drove past a gated drive where two security guards stood at the base of the road.

  “She must be in town,” Evan mused. “Let’s drop in for a lemonade.”

  Ahead, at the highest point of the bluff, the colossal Ocean House awaited. “Oh, you guys.” Clem always got a little choked up when it came into view. The old hotel had been the place of many special occasions for her family over the years: graduation dinners, the announcement of her pregnancy with George. David and Paige had even honeymooned here.

  They pulled into the pebbled circular drive and the valets came down the porch steps to meet them. “Every time I’m at this place I think of the Titanic,” David said. “It’s so grand.”

  The family walked up the porch steps together, and onto the sweep
ing deck that overlooked the Atlantic. “It’s summer,” Paige said. “The sunny yellow hotel. The impossibly blue skies and water. It just screams summer.”

  “Come on everyone,” Richard called softly. They followed him to the end of the porch and looked out over the water. Hotel guests were making their way up the beach path below. The cabanas were being closed for the day, and the clink of silverware and scent of dinner wafted out from the grand dining room. They crowded at the railing and looked out, taking in the majestic views. Flossy was standing beside Clem, and she looked radiant, the sun against her profile. “It’s been a good week, Mom,” Clem said, leaning in to her.

  Flossy smiled and raised her eyebrows. “It’s been a week, that’s for sure.”

  Dinner was long and leisurely. As was their custom, they ordered something from every course. As the drinks flowed, so did the camaraderie. Sam and Evan seemed lighter, and more chatty. Clem watched with relief as Sam rolled back the cuffs of his linen shirt and draped his arm across the back of his husband’s chair. Emma, who hadn’t quite recovered from the events of the night before, at least had regained her color and was able to eat something. Everyone ordered something New England: Nantucket Bay scallops, caviar, Watch Hill oysters, lobster bisque. By the end of the meal, palates and conversation were satiated. Dessert menus were passed around, and crème brulee was ordered.

  Richard sat back in his seat and raised his glass. “As you all know, tomorrow evening your mother has seen fit to pay homage to the old man you call your father. Since that lovely event is taking place on the evening of our traditional goodbye dinner, we wanted to take you all out tonight, just family, to thank you for coming together this week.”

  He paused, looking over lovingly at Flossy. “Getting all of you together is a feat of sometimes grandiose measure these days, but you managed to all do it. And for that your mother and I are grateful. Because family is everything.”

  Clem glanced around the table at the faces listening in earnest.

  “The town of Westerly has been a special place for our family for many years. Our summer house began as a fishing cottage for your great grandfather Richard, after whom I am named. And it was inherited by his son, my father, and later passed down to me.” He glanced around the Ocean House dining room, at the oversized windows overlooking the beach in every direction. It was a clear day, and across the sound was the green outline of Block Island, and to the right, Montauk. The light was mesmerizing at that hour, washing the white tablecloths of the dining room with rosy-pink hues. “Your grandparents used to come here to dine and to dance in the Ocean House ballroom, once upon a time.”

  Clem smiled at Paige. They had always loved this bit of family history. “And your father and I held our wedding dinner in this very dining room,” Flossy added, glancing over her shoulder at the surf outside the windows.

  “The lovely view has not changed,” Richard said, looking adoringly at her. “And I’m not referring to Narragansett Sound.”

  Flossy waved him away, with a roll of her eyes, but she was smiling.

  They were spooning the last custardy remains of crème brulee from their dessert plates, when Clem spied a familiar gentleman approaching their table.

  “Richard! Flossy! How nice to see you all.” Richard turned in his seat to greet the man, but Clem noticed her father glance uncomfortably at her mother.

  “You kids remember Mr. Wright, don’t you?”

  That’s who he was. Maurice and his wife, Virginia, owned the house across the street from theirs and had a son who was Paige’s age. Clem remembered them as being friendly; the ongoing joke being that they wished they could trade views and be on the ocean side of the street.

  Maurice raised a hand in greeting to them all, smiling broadly. Her father seemed to have forgotten himself, so Paige went around the table reintroducing everyone while Richard stared blankly at his plate. Clem was about to inquire about Maurice’s son, but was interrupted by Flossy who had begun to fidget with her purse. “Where’s the check?” she whispered impatiently.

  After an awkward beat, Richard stood. “Was nice to see you, Maurice. Please give Virginia our best.”

  “Of course.” He said goodbye and was on his way.

  Again, Richard threw Flossy a look. If Clem weren’t mistaken, the two looked relieved.

  “Oh, Richard, one more thing.” Maurice was back.

  Richard spun around to face him.

  “My attorney is in Nantucket for the weekend, but we should have the offer to purchase signed and ready by Monday.” He looked up at the rest of them, his eyes twinkling. “I hope we’ll have as many happy memories in the house as you have all enjoyed.”

  Beside her Flossy’s eyes widened with something akin to horror, but Clem forced herself to nod politely and return Mr. Wright’s warm smile. When she glanced around the table, she saw that the rest of her family was attempting to do the same. Except for Richard, who had ducked his head as Mr. Wright walked away.

  “Dad?” Clem asked, a rush of anxiety settling over her.

  Paige echoed her thoughts. “What was Mr. Wright talking about?”

  It was Sam who put a hand to his forehead and said the unthinkable. “You’re selling him the summer house.”

  “You can’t!” Paige cried.

  “No! Why would you sell it?” Clem echoed. “You and mom love it here. We all do.”

  Flossy looked perturbed. “Hang on. Your father and I asked all of you if you had any interest in the house last summer. Not one of you wanted it or was in the position to take it.”

  “We didn’t think you were serious!”

  “We didn’t think you’d sell it out from under us!”

  “When exactly were you planning on telling us?”

  Flossy threw up her hands before putting them chastely back in her lap.

  “You say it every year,” Clem agreed. “But you never mean it.”

  Flossy looked pained. “We didn’t want to ruin our last week at the house.”

  “So you lied to us?” Paige was almost shouting.

  Richard raised one gentle hand. “Everybody calm down, please. Let’s discuss this rationally.”

  Clem looked to Sam for help; Sam always had something to say, but tonight he was quiet, a look of grim resolution on his face. She elbowed him. “What?”

  “Say something!” she hissed.

  Flossy beat him to it. “We knew this would be upsetting news, which is why we didn’t plan to tell you until after vacation. Your father and I thought you’d enjoy your week more without this hanging over your heads, and that’s what the summer house is about. Enjoying ourselves.”

  “So you lied to us,” Paige said.

  “It wasn’t a lie,” Flossy insisted.

  Finally Sam spoke. “It was a lie by omission.”

  “That’s not fair!” Flossy said. Her neck was flushing a deep shade of red, which was never a good sign.

  Clem couldn’t help it. This was all too much. Hot tears rolled out of her eyes and spilled onto her dessert plate. “But it isn’t just yours to sell! It’s all of ours.”

  Flossy turned to Clem. “It always will be, honey. Think of all the memories you have there. That won’t change.”

  Clem pressed her napkin to her face. “What about the kids?”

  George’s eyes were traveling over the expressions of them all trying to ascertain how he should respond. Maddy arrived at a decision before George. She promptly burst into tears. “I don’t want to move!” she cried.

  “Now, now, hush . . .” Flossy leaped up and took Maddy’s hand. “Come on, let’s go look in the gift shop.

  “I don’t want a gift!” Maddy howled. “I’m moving.”

  Flossy tugged her hand gently. “Oh, no, sweetheart! You aren’t moving.”

  David, who’d remained silent and looking like he’d rather be under the table than at it, cleared his throat. “Have you accepted the offer? Has it gone to contract?”

  Everyone fell silent for a
beat. Richard nodded.

  Sam sat back in his chair. “Well, then it’s done.” He motioned to the server for another cocktail.

  “When?” Paige asked. Her cheeks looked hollow.

  “Nothing has been signed, but we indicated we wanted one last summer.”

  “So this is it?” Clem asked. She was stricken with the realization.

  “Which is why we are going to enjoy it!” Flossy said, returning to the table. “We are not going to fret or argue or worry. Tomorrow night we are celebrating your father’s birthday and our summers here in Rhode Island. We are celebrating family! And I want every one of us to remember that.” It was a command as much as a request, and although she didn’t cry, Flossy’s voice broke.

  As everyone sat digesting the news, the table fell quiet again. Ned and Emma took the little kids out to the porch to watch the croquet players on the green below. Richard motioned for the server, and after a polite verbal scuffle with Sam over the bill, paid it. Plates were cleared. One by one, they all stood—Paige excusing herself for the restroom, Evan and David to join the others outside. Until it was just Clem and Richard. He took off his glasses.

  “Daddy, there must be some other way. What if we all go in on it together?”

  “Sweetheart, it’s too much. Your mother and I can put this toward retirement, and to our grandkids. We want to help you with George and Maddy, for college and that sort of thing. It’d be too much of a stretch, otherwise.” His voice fell away.

  “But you don’t have to,” Clem said. “Ben took care of us, there’s money left for the kids.” Which was true, but so was some of what Richard had said: there was no way to tell just how long the life insurance and investments would last. She would have to go back to work, she knew. And college was something that concerned her. No, she was in no position to go in on a summer home.

  Outside they waited in silence at the base of the Ocean House steps as the valets brought their cars around. “So, we’ll see you at home,” Richard said, solemnly.