Summer by the Sea

by Susan Wiggs

  “What’s going on?” Rosa demanded.

  The conversation stopped. Gazes lowered and feet shuffled.

  “What?” she asked.

  Vince said, “We were just discussing your sex life.”

  Her cheeks began to burn. “I see. And what, may I ask, is the nature of this incredibly high-minded discussion of my...sex life?”

  “Well, mainly that you finally have one again.”

  She swallowed hard. No wonder people tended to leave their home towns. If you stayed too long, privacy went out the window. “And how would you know that?”

  “Hello,” said Linda. “You practically rolled out of bed to get to this meeting. Even my mom could tell.”

  Unconsciously, Rosa touched her hair and wondered feverishly if Alex had somehow marked or branded her in some visible way. “How is this your business?”

  “We love you, Rosa, and we want to be sure you’re not making a mistake.”

  “Whether or not I’m making a mistake is...” Rosa hesitated while stinging tears welled in her eyes. “It’s too late. I’ve already made it.” She covered her face with her hands. They pressed close, a human cocoon, murmuring with sympathy.

  “What is it, honey?” Vince asked. “You can tell us. Don’t keep it in.”

  “I ran into his ex,” she said miserably, accepting a Kleenex from Linda. “She wanted me to know that he dumped her when she got pregnant with his child.”

  Linda gasped. “There’s a child?”

  “She miscarried.”

  “She’s lying,” said Vince. “I can smell it.”

  “Did you ask him?” Linda handed her another Kleenex.

  “Yes. Well, no, not yet. It’s not just that. We have bigger issues. Our values are so different. People like Alex and Portia van Deusen, they’re a breed apart. They try on relationships like trendy outfits and discard them when they don’t seem to fit anymore.”

  “And people like us don’t do stuff like that?”

  “I don’t,” said Rosa. “You should see that woman, Portia van Deusen. She’s...perfect. Absolutely perfect. Beautiful, educated, stylish. She’s everything a man like Alex needs, and he lost interest in her completely. When she was pregnant, no less. It makes me wonder how long he’d keep someone like me around.”

  “You’re not her,” said Vince.

  “No. I’m shorter. Louder.”

  Linda burst out laughing. “And that matters?”

  “Come on, Linda, you know better than that.”

  “Listen, don’t judge his relationship with you by his relationships in the past.”

  “According to the most basic principles of psychology, past behavior is the single best indicator of future behavior.”

  “Well, according to me and everyone else here, you’re not asking the key question.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Do you love him, Rosa?”

  She crushed the Kleenex in her fist. “I’ve always loved him. I probably always will.”

  “Then—”

  “That doesn’t mean I can be with him. How can I trust him with my heart?”

  Linda handed her another tissue. “You have to ask yourself what is the bigger fear, that you’ll get hurt again or that you’ll walk away before you ever find out what could have been.”

  “Thanks, Dr. Lipschitz, but I don’t like either of those options. I like my life just the way it is. I wish you guys would understand that.”

  “Ah, Rosa.” Linda’s eyes were damp, too. “You’ve already started to change. You think you have it all, but you’re missing the only thing that really matters.”

  She looked from Linda to Vince. “You never liked him. And now you’re trying to push me into this?”

  “You said the magic words,” Vince pointed out with a smile. “You said you love him. And he’s not so bad. He’s ready, Rosa. He’s finally good enough for you.”

  A cell phone rang, and several people checked theirs. Rosa looked in her purse and frowned. Odd. It wasn’t there. Maybe she’d set it down in her office, or in her car. As it turned out, Teddy’s phone was the culprit. He took the call, retreating to a corner of the bar and lowering his voice.

  Rosa stared long and hard at the nautilus shell behind the bar. She heaved a sigh. “Whatever happened to happily ever after?”

  “It’s still an option,” Linda assured her. “But you’ll never get there if you don’t take a risk.”

  “You could say the same about disaster.”

  “That’s why it’s a risk.”

  “I just can’t—”

  “Rosa, we’ve got to go.” Teddy crossed the room in two strides and yanked open the door. “There’s a fire at your father’s place.”

  * * *

  She raced Teddy out to his Jeep. They jumped in, and he peeled out of the parking lot. The ride to Prospect Street was the longest in all eternity. She hardened her spine against the back of the seat so she wouldn’t collapse. She used Teddy’s phone to try her father’s cell, but got no answer. That could mean anything, she realized with a shudder.

  “You’re sure he’s okay?” she asked Teddy.

  “That’s what I heard from the dispatcher.”

  “What happened?” she demanded.

  “I didn’t get much information. Started upstairs, I think he said.”

  “Oh, God. Joey.”

  “The kid’s at work. You know that.”

  “Maybe it was bad wiring. Damn. I warned him about that. I should have taken care of it myself. But Pop’s all right. You’re sure you heard right.”

  “That’s what I heard.”

  Things didn’t look okay as they turned on to Prospect Street. A ladder truck blocked the way and a crew swarmed over the house. Flames licked from the upstairs windows. Neighbors gathered on the sidewalk across the way.

  The most chilling sight of all was a red and white EMS vehicle, its lights rotating ominously, its rear doors wide-open.

  Rosa gasped. “He’s hurt.”

  “They’re probably just here as a precaution,” Teddy said.

  She spotted a white Ford Explorer parked in the driveway. “That’s Alex’s truck. What the hell...?” She jumped out before Teddy came to a complete stop and jostled her way through the crowd. “Pop!” she yelled, wishing he could hear her. “Pop.”

  Then she saw him next to the rig, haggard but standing on his own, holding Jake in his arms, a bag valve mask against his face.

  Rosa gave a cry of relief and ran to him. “Thank God you’re all right.” She hugged him and kissed the dog on the head. “What happened?”

  When she stepped back to sign the question, she saw that something was wrong. Pop didn’t look hurt, but his eyes were filled with sadness.

  “It’s just a house,” she told him, knowing it was so much more. “We’ll replace everything—”

  “Rosa, I don’t worry about the house,” he said. “It’s not that. It’s—”

  “Make way,” someone yelled. “Step aside, please.”

  “Rosina,” said Pop. “I am so sorry...”

  “I don’t understand...” She looked at Alex’s car. It couldn’t be him on that stretcher, strapped to a backboard and cervical collar, buried in fireproof blankets. It couldn’t be.

  She must have swayed or staggered a little, because Pop took her hand and held on tightly. Through a fog of dawning comprehension, she watched the EMS crew navigating a path toward the open rear doors of the ambulance. An EMT ran alongside the stretcher holding an IV bag high in the air. Someone else barked coded language into a radio. Another worked an automatic external defibrillator similar to the one they had at the restaurant.

  Screaming, Rosa wrenched away from her father and lunged toward the ambulance. Th
ey wouldn’t let her near. Still, she managed to catch a glimpse of the victim. Just barely, but enough to confirm what she already knew in the pit of her stomach.

  thirty-nine

  They wouldn’t let Rosa in to see Alex because she wasn’t immediate family. However, lacking any other source of information, the EMTs relied on her. As she stumbled through details in a flat, incredulous voice—age, weight, allergies, medical conditions, insurance coverage—it struck her how little she knew about him, this man who had just saved her father’s life, this man she was afraid to love.

  She felt numb with terror as she entered the hospital. She’d made this trip before, after a midnight phone call. This time, her father walked in on his own, submitting to tests as a precaution.

  “I’m looking for Alex Montgomery,” Rosa said to a nurse. “He was just brought in.”

  “I’ll send someone.”

  Another nurse, this one harried-looking and studying reports on a clipboard, approached her. “You’re with Mr. Montgomery?” she asked.

  “Yes, I...we... Is he all right?”

  “The doctors are evaluating him right now, ma’am.” She flipped a page of the chart. “What was he doing prior to the fire?”

  A trap door of guilt gaped open, and Rosa teetered on the edge. Just a short time ago, he had held her in his arms. She leaned forward and told the nurse, “He ate...a normal breakfast, eggs and fruit and coffee.” She refused to hold anything back, so she added, “We were together, you know?”

  The nurse’s expression conveyed that she did.

  “He seemed perfectly fine, but he did use his inhaler at least once. He’s a chronic asthmatic, and this morning his lungs were twitchy,” she added. “I told the EMTs about it.”

  “What time?”

  “Early. I left him around nine-fifteen. Can I see him? Please?”

  “I’ll keep you informed, ma’am.” The nurse made a note and went through the heavy double doors to consult with the doctor.

  * * *

  Rosa’s father sat on a bed in a curtained area, still holding Jake. Pop looked grim, his face ashen with regrets as he gave a statement to a man with a notebook. “It was an accident,” he said, “but it shouldn’t have happened. I knew the wiring was bad. I got a neighbor, Rudy, who’s an electrician. I was supposed to have him check it out. It completely slipped my mind.”

  Rosa clutched at the curtain frame. She thought about the night Joey had told her about Pop’s forgetfulness. Just getting him a dog wasn’t enough; she should have known that.

  “It didn’t seem so bad at first,” Pop went on. “I tried putting it out myself, didn’t know it would spread so quick. When the curtains caught fire, I called 9-1-1. And Jake, he panicked and ran off. I could not leave the house without him. If Alexander had not arrived, both Jake and I might not have made it out.”

  Rosa shut her eyes as her father finished making his statement.

  “There was a great cheer when we saw them both on the roof,” he went on. “Alexander gave Jake to a firefighter and then...”

  Rosa opened her eyes to see that her father was weeping again.

  “Then something happened. He fell. It was like somebody shot him. He collapsed and went off the roof. I’m sorry. So sorry.”

  Her father wanted to stay and wait for word about Alex, but Rosa put Teddy in charge of him, sending them to pick up Joey from work. They’d have to salvage what they could from Pop’s house. After that they’d be staying with her until they figured out what to do.

  “And you?” asked Pop, watching her with a terrible worry in his eyes.

  “I’m staying here.”

  He nodded. “Of course.” With those two words, he indicated his changed opinion of Alex. Rosa could see it in his expression.

  “I’ll let you know when I hear something.”

  “Yes. And Rosina—” He hesitated, then said, “It is... We will talk about it later.”

  “About what?”

  But he didn’t hear her. He was already heading for the door.

  * * *

  No one would give her a report on Alex’s condition.

  The charge nurse flicked a glance at the closed door of the exam room, a resuscitation bay surrounded by wire mesh glass. The area was so crowded with doctors and technicians that Alex couldn’t be seen. “They’re still working on him. I promise, they’re doing the best they can.”

  Rosa wondered if the nurse had any idea how unsettling her words and manner were. “Can you tell me if you managed to get hold of his father?” she demanded. “Can you at least tell me that?”

  “I understand someone’s on the way.”

  Rosa paced. She got a drink of water and paced some more. Then she searched her handbag for her phone and remembered it was missing. The nurse had said someone was on the way. She could only assume that meant Alex’s father. His sister, Madison, was somewhere in Asia, and he didn’t have any other family. Portia? Maybe she should be contacted. An ex-fiancée might qualify as family if she kept quiet about the “ex” part.

  He needed someone. If she were in his position, she knew she’d draw strength from the presence of friends. Friends and family, surrounding her, supporting her, willing her to get better. She wanted that for Alex but she didn’t know how to give it to him. His whole world was an alien planet to her.

  As the minutes crawled by, more people showed up. Slowly, in small groups, they all came to see her, much as they had the night her father was hurt. Shelly and the guys from the restaurant. Mario and his family. Linda and Jason. They came because they loved her, and they wanted to be there for the man who had walked through fire for her father. She realized with a deep gratitude that these people were her whole world. They had propped her up through the bad times and celebrated the good.

  She found herself remembering her vow this morning, which seemed an eternity ago. Only this morning, she’d believed she would follow Alex to the ends of the earth. Now she wondered how she could even think of leaving. This was the only place where life made sense.

  Vince came to sit with her. Although she was grateful for his presence, the whole situation felt ghoulish, like a death watch. She and Vince were clutching each other in terror when the automatic doors swished open and a tall, elegantly dressed man hurried across the foyer, followed by Gina Colombo, Alex’s assistant. Neither of them seemed to notice Rosa as they were whisked into the exam room.

  Through the glass wall, she could only see Alex’s father from behind. He was broad-shouldered and athletic-looking. At first glance, he seemed to possess the graceful, emotionless demeanor of an android. She quickly realized it wasn’t true. Those big shoulders were very expressive. As she watched, they drooped and then shook violently.

  It took a minute for her to find her voice. “That’s his father,” she told Vince.

  His arm slid around her. He didn’t say anything, didn’t try to assure her that everything would be all right. He knew she’d stood right here in the same waiting room twelve years before, not knowing if her father would live or die and then learning that he would exist in some shadowland between the two, perhaps forever. So Vince knew better than to offer reassurances before they had all the facts.

  Mr. Montgomery was signing papers on a clipboard when Gina came out. In a business suit with a short skirt, she looked crisp and professional, but her face was ashen, her eyes troubled.

  “They said you came in with him.”

  “Yes,” said Rosa. “How is he?”

  “Going up to ICU, that’s how he is.”

  “Hey,” said Vince.

  Rosa waved her hand to settle him down. She could see the terror in Gina’s eyes. Her anger was just a mask for an abject fear Rosa understood all too well. “Please, what’s his condition?”

  Gina seem to soften slightly.
“The burns are minor but...they need to do more tests for possible brain trauma. They’re worried about intracranial hemorrhage. He’s been intubated and hasn’t been conscious since he was brought in.”

  Icy terror closed around Rosa. Her father had suffered brain trauma. It had taken him two years to get better. “I want to see him.”

  “You can’t,” said Gina.

  Rosa walked away to peer through the glass. There was a screen around the gurney so she couldn’t see much. She stood watching the team getting ready to move Alex. His father hovered, looking helpless. Then someone pushed the screen out of the way, and she could see Alex at last, but only a little. She caught a glimpse of soot on his forehead, like an Ash Wednesday benediction. The top of the laryngoscope and the Ambu-bag obscured the rest of his face. He was missing one tennis shoe. There was a cut on his cheekbone right where she had kissed him this morning.

  Only this morning, but so long ago.

  She leaned her head against the glass, tormented, feeling Mr. Montgomery’s eyes on her but physically unable to move. Then he turned away from her and she saw him, that inattentive husband, that cold unfeeling father, bend and press a kiss on Alex’s soot-smudged forehead, then squeeze his son’s hand. When he straightened up, his lips were moving rapidly in what could only be a feverish, desperate prayer.

  Behind her, Vince and Gina were conferring like thieves.

  Rosa watched the room empty out as a pair of orderlies angled the gurney through a wide door and down a gleaming hallway. Nurses and technicians wheeled the accompanying bags and monitors alongside the gurney. Speaking rapidly, a doctor directed traffic. Mr. Montgomery followed, his head bowed. The empty room looked ransacked, like a crime scene, with tubes left hanging, blue and white packaging on the floor, trays of instruments everywhere.

  Vince touched her on the shoulder. “Honey, Gina needs to tell you something.”

  Rosa nodded, resigned to whatever the snappy, defensive woman might have to say to her. It was clear that Gina was devoted to Alex. Rosa was glad he had people in his life who loved him. She found herself wishing he had more.

  “There’s something you should know about Alex and Portia van Deusen,” Gina said without preamble.