Sarah continued, “As if being lesbian is being second-place. Carley, I’ve lost friends because I’m with Sue. I’ve been turned down for jobs.”
“And apartments,” Sue recalled. “Remember, when we were in nursing school, we wanted to rent that cute little apartment on Oak Street, and the landlady asked, ‘What do you girls want with a one-bedroom apartment?’ She told us to get out. She said she wouldn’t allow any of that nasty stuff in her place.”
“I never knew that,” Carley said.
“I didn’t want you to get upset. You were younger, my little sweetie-pie sister.”
“Yeah, because I would have gone out and slugged those people in the nose,” Carley fiercely declared.
“We still get discriminated against,” Sue continued. “Not as much as we used to.”
“How about at work?” Carley asked.
“Oh, work’s fine with it.” Suddenly Sarah laughed. “Except some of the doctors, the ones with the biggest God complexes, often hit on us or make remarks. It’s part of the territory.”
“What we’re trying to say, Carley, is that it’s not always easy, choosing to be with someone who isn’t ‘right’ according to whatever rules society has floating around in the atmosphere. When Sarah and I decided to be partners, my parents were horrified. They had thought, all along, that I was in some kind of phase I’d grow out of. They refused to meet Sarah for years. When I told them I loved Sarah, that I was going to commit my life to her, my mother wept and my father went ballistic. He drove his fist through the living room wall. I love my parents. It broke my heart to upset them like that. It also made me mad as hell that they wouldn’t accept me for who I am and meet the woman I love!”
Sarah leaned over to pat Sue’s hand. “Deep breaths.” To Carley, she said, “The point is I love Sue. She loves me. We’ve made a happy life together. I guess we’re trying to say that other peoples’ concept of ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ doesn’t matter when you’re in love. What matters is the love.”
“I hear you.” Carley studied the faces of these two women who were as perfect a married couple as any she’d met. She cared for them with all her heart, and she didn’t need to say it aloud. They knew it in the depths of their hearts. “I appreciate your advice.”
“It’s easy to give advice,” Sarah said. “You and Wyatt have very big decisions to make.”
41
• • • • •
With a whine of engines and a roar of backward thrust, the plane touched down on the runway. Carley and her girls were home. Along with the other passengers, they yelled, “Hooray!” People almost always did when the small planes landed safely after a bumpy flight over turbulent water.
They waited for their luggage—they’d had to borrow an extra suitcase from Carley’s mother for all the clothing they’d bought in New York—then hurried out to the car. As they were all fastening their seat belts, Carley’s cell rang.
“Carley?” It was Maud. “Listen, you need to go by Vanessa’s. She fell.”
“Oh, no! Is she okay?”
“Pretty much. Just shaken up. Sprained her left wrist, it’s in a sling. Twisted her ankle.”
“The baby—”
“The baby’s fine. The doctor checked. I took her to the hospital—”
“You took her to the hospital?”
“Well, you were in New York. Lauren and her family are off-island. It was down to Beth Boxer or me. What a choice, right?” Maud chuckled. “She said she had to decide whom she hated less, me or Toby, and chose me. I went over, got her up off the floor, drove her to the emergency room. Drove her home. She’s fine, a bit shaken up, and she’ll probably need someone to cook her dinner or something for a few days.”
“I’ll bring her home,” Carley decided. “We’ll swing by Vanessa’s now.”
“No!” Margaret wailed. “I want to see Molly!”
“No!” Cisco echoed. “I want to go to Lauren’s. I haven’t ridden for days! Blue will be missing me!”
“Lauren’s not here, remember?” Carley reminded her daughter. “Come on, it won’t kill you to have a little Christmas spirit. Vanessa fell.”
Vanessa’s house was, like many island homes, a handsome old Greek Revival, narrow and long, with staircases to four floors of small rooms. When Carley opened the front door and went through the entrance hall, she found Vanessa collapsed on the sofa in the living room. A pair of crutches lay on the floor next to her.
“Vanessa, you poor thing!”
“I’m disgusted with myself.” With difficulty, Vanessa shifted upright. She gestured toward the Christmas tree, surrounded by boxes half full of ornaments. “I thought I’d be efficient and take the tree down. It’s so dry, the needles are falling all over. It’s a fire hazard. So I was up on the ladder when I lost my balance. Boom. What an idiot I am.”
From behind her, Cisco asked, wide-eyed, “Is your baby okay, Vanessa?”
“The doctor says it’s fine. I’m only going to have a bruise on my bum. Good thing it’s so big. It gave me a soft landing.”
Margaret giggled.
“I can’t use my wrist or ankle for a while,” Vanessa continued. “How did you find out? Did Maud call you?”
“She did. We just got off the plane. Literally. We’re going to take you to our house and pamper you.”
“Not necessary. Really.”
“But we want to, Vanessa!” Margaret insisted, patting Vanessa’s arm. “We’ll bring you hot chocolate and everything!”
Vanessa smiled. “Well, there’s an offer I can’t refuse.” Slowly, pushing with her good arm, she sat up. “I’ll go up and get a nightgown and my toothbrush.”
“You stay here,” Carley told her. “I’ll get them.”
On the way to her house, Carley considered just where to establish Vanessa’s home base. Angel’s Wing was empty, but it was a few steps too many from the rest of the house, it would seem they were sticking her out there on her own. Carley decided that since Vanessa couldn’t climb stairs without difficulty, the den was the best place for her.
At home, her daughters raced up and down the stairs, bringing sheets, pillows, towels, and a down comforter into the den when Carley was setting up Vanessa’s private lair. They moved the coffee table so that it served as a bedside table for water, books, and tissues, wheeled the TV around so she could watch it.
“You guys are so good,” Vanessa praised, tears in her eyes. “I hate for you to go to all this trouble.”
“Are you kidding?” Carley hugged her friend. “This is fun. Just prepare yourself for endless games of Chutes and Ladders!”
Margaret ran off to Molly’s, Jewel arrived and secreted herself with Cisco in Cisco’s bedroom, and Carley set about the business of unpacking and getting the house back to normal. Since Vanessa, an adult, even if an injured one, was in the house, she ran out to the store to stock up on groceries. And to phone Wyatt, who’d gotten back to the island the day before.
“We’re back!”
“How was it?”
“Super. I’ll tell you all about it tonight. Can you come over? I’m going to make chili, and we can have our little Christmas, oh, and guess what, Vanessa’s staying here.”
“What? Why?”
Carley explained about the fall and how they’d tucked Vanessa into the den.
Wyatt was quiet for a moment. “Um, then, should I get Vanessa a Christmas present, too?”
She was shocked to feel a childish twinge of jealousy. Ashamed of herself—how sad would it be, for everyone to exchange presents and poor Vanessa to get nothing, like a Dickens orphan?—she replied, “Wyatt, that’s such a thoughtful suggestion. You really are sweet. Yes, get her something. A book would be perfect. Some nice juicy novel.”
“Okay. What time shall I come over?”
“Six?”
“Great. See you then.”
Wyatt walked in the door that evening, set a bag of presents on the floor, looked at Carley, and her heart absolutely melted.
“I missed you.” Her words were muffled by his kisses.
He nuzzled her neck and pressed her body against his. “Do we have to eat? Can’t we just go to bed?”
She pushed away lightly, laughing. “Sorry. We’ll have to wait.”
He picked up the bag. “Presents.” Mischievously, he grinned. “I got a really nice one for Vanessa.”
“Oh?”
“A kind of bribe, actually. Maybe while she’s here, you can come out to my house with me for a few hours.” He leaned close. “I want to make you moan.”
She went weak in the knees. It was true, they were cautious, unnaturally quiet, making love with the girls at the other end of the hall. Breathlessly, she whispered, “What a good idea.”
Margaret came shooting down the staircase, all long legs and tangled hair. “Wyatt!”
To Carley’s delight, Wyatt caught Margaret up and swung her around. The evening had officially begun.
Over dinner, the girls entertained the adults with details of their holiday in New York. Cisco didn’t act surly at Wyatt’s presence, and Wyatt seemed happy enough to be around the children.
After dinner, as they gathered around the Christmas tree, Carley couldn’t decide whether she was glad or unhappy to have Vanessa with them. It kept them from seeming like a family, but perhaps that made her daughters more comfortable. Certainly Vanessa seemed comfortable. She wore black maternity trousers and a red sweater that made her skin glow and her eyes and hair shine. Pregnant and hampered by her injuries, she moved slowly, shifting her voluptuous body like Cleopatra on her throne. She was so sensual! It was hard not to stare at her magnificent bosom. By comparison, Carley felt absolutely chipper, like Nancy Drew.
The girls gave Wyatt a book about sailing that Carley had suggested they choose. Wyatt gave them books, too. He gave Vanessa the newest Leslie Linsley book on Nantucket decorating.
Surprised, Vanessa said to Wyatt, “I don’t have a present for you. When I’m healed, you’ll have to come over and let me make you a gourmet dinner.”
Hey! Carley almost shouted, but then Vanessa swept her soulful gaze over to Carley, “Both of you, I mean. To thank you. You, too, of course, girls. You’re going to be my number one babysitters, after all.”
Carley gave Wyatt a white silk muffler that made him look like Orlando Bloom. Wyatt handed her a small velvet box.
Carley paused, biting her lip.
“Open it!” her daughters yelled.
It was a pair of antique ruby earrings, small and twinkling. “Wyatt, they’re exquisite.” She put them on. She gave him a chaste kiss on his cheek, then held her hair back and leaned over for Vanessa to see.
“What beauties,” Vanessa said.
Margaret and Cisco were both yawning. They’d had a long day with the excitement of flying back from New York and settling in at home.
“Girls,” Carley said. “It’s time to get ready for bed. I’ll be up in a while to tuck you in.”
“Mom, it’s early,” Cisco protested.
“No, it’s not.”
“For vacation it is!” Cisco argued.
“Look. Get in bed and I’ll let you read late. You need to rest.”
That satisfied both girls. They took their new books, kissed Wyatt and Vanessa on the cheeks, and skipped upstairs.
“Vanessa, we have a favor to ask you.” Carley lowered her voice. “After I’m sure the girls are asleep, Wyatt and I thought we might run out to his house for a couple of hours, to, um, do some things. I’d be back before midnight. Would you mind?”
Vanessa glowed. “I’d be honored.”
Carley felt like a teenager as she and Wyatt sneaked out of the house and into his car, and it was exhilarating, after so much devoted good mommy time. As they rode out to Madaket, Wyatt raved about his time in Hawaii. He’d swum, surfed, hiked, biked—and he’d missed Carley.
Wyatt’s cottage was basically two big rooms with a galley kitchen and a bath with only a shower at the side. The living room had a stone fireplace, a recliner, a plasma TV, a small dining table and a few miscellaneous chairs, and a woven wool rug. The longest wall held shelves of books, CDs, and his sound system. In his bedroom was a queen-size bed covered with a down comforter, a dresser, and a chair with clothes tossed on it. A very clean, very expensive dirt bike leaned against one wall.
He wrapped his arms around her as she stood in the doorway of the bedroom. “All the neighbors are summer people, not back for months. You can make as much noise as you want.”
She twisted in his arms and looked up at him. “And so can you.” She rubbed her body against his like a cat. Wyatt moaned, picked her up in his arms, and threw her on the bed.
They were in such a hurry to get all their clothes off, they nearly ripped apart their underwear. Afterward, they lay in a heap of rumpled sweaters and slacks, Carley’s bra hanging off one arm. They sprawled in each other’s arms, deeply content.
“We can’t fall asleep,” Carley warned. “I can’t spend the night here.”
“I know.” With a groan, Wyatt pushed himself up. “I’ll make some coffee.”
Carley kicked her clothes on the floor and crawled naked between the sheets, pulling the comforter up. Cozy. What a delicious feeling, to have someone else bring her coffee! She could get used to this.
She plumped up the pillows against the headboard, and folded back the bedcovers for Wyatt, who returned with a cup of coffee in each hand. They settled in together, sipping hot coffee, talking, laughing, and the dark night air was velvet against their skin.
Carley talked about the holiday with her family, exaggerating her parents’ eccentricities to make him laugh. She told him about discussing him with Sarah and Sue.
“They’re right, you know,” Wyatt said. He set his coffee on the bedside table and angled toward Carley. “We shouldn’t waste time.”
“I know,” Carley began, “and yet, I’m still afraid of rushing things.”
“I’m not.” Wyatt gently touched her earlobe. “I didn’t want to tell you in front of everyone else, but these earrings belonged to my grandmother.”
“Oh, Wyatt!” Her hands flew to her ears. “But why didn’t you give them to Roxie?”
Wyatt smiled. “Not her style. She only liked great big diamonds. Never mind Roxie. These were meant for you.”
Carley twisted the earrings out and held them in her palm. With only the kitchen light illuminating the room, the rubies still glowed warmly against her skin. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this yet, Wyatt. A gift of such importance. A family heirloom.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not sure I can explain. It’s been only a little over a year since Gus’s death.”
“Carley, what we have between us—”
“You’ve got to understand, Wyatt, I don’t want to make a mistake. My daughters and I have been through a terrible, frightening, unexpected time. We lost Gus, and I worry that we’re still rocky. I know that I love being with you—that is clear to me. But something—I don’t know what—is holding me back now.”
Warily, Wyatt said, “Are you worried that what you feel for me is temporary?”
Carley hesitated. “Maybe.”
“Does this mean you want to see other people?”
“No!” She shook her head. “Wyatt, no! I just want to go a little slower. I just need a little more time.” She touched his arm. “Please understand.”
“Well, hell. I can’t pretend this isn’t a long deep knife slice to my ego.”
Wyatt made his voice wry, and he twisted his mouth in a smile, but Carley could see how she’d hurt him and her own heart sank. “Wyatt …”
“It’s a good thing I like to travel,” he said.
“I don’t mean for you to go away,” she protested.
“You don’t mean for me to stay, either.” Tossing back the covers, he rose, grabbing his clothes up off the floor.
“Wyatt, I don’t
have to go home yet.”
“Yeah, Carley,” he said, and his voice was hoarse, “I think you do.”
42
• • • • •
It was the worst winter New England had experienced in years. Blizzards followed storms, sleet covered snow, snow covered ice. The sky was perpetually gray, funeral gray, the sun hidden by a layer of ashy clouds, preventing the brilliant sparkle of light on snow. The girls had snow days, which they loved at first, then became bored with. They built an entire snow family, a snow fort, snow castles, they went sledding and ice skating and watched their favorite DVDs, but they missed their friends and the routine of school. They grumbled.
Carley trudged along, trying to be a good mother, a virtuous widow, and in January it was easy to do, because Wyatt went off on another trip. “To visit friends,” he told her, but he didn’t tell her who the friends were, if they were male or female, where they lived, when he would be back. She supposed he was trying to give her the space and time she’d asked for, but perversely she felt as if he were punishing her. She missed him so much it made her mad at him, and for a week or so her anger kept her from calling him.
And he didn’t call her.
“Am I an idiot?” she asked Vanessa one day.
“Yes,” Vanessa said. “Totally.”
“Thanks so much.” They were in the living room, a fire blazing in the fireplace, a pot of cinnamon spice tea on the coffee table, its fragrance drifting into the air. Carley changed the subject. “Tell me, how did you feel when Maud came to help you?”
Carley had helped Vanessa take a bath—a particularly humorous operation since Vanessa was pregnant and had to keep one wrist and one ankle out of the water. While Vanessa soaked, Carley had freshened Vanessa’s lair in the den, changing the sheets, folding the comforter, bringing in a fresh glass and fresh water. She tossed Vanessa’s clothes into the washing machine, helped Vanessa dress in a clean version of maternity sweat pants and loose top, and settled her back on the sofa.
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