by Susan Wiggs
Watching the three of them together, Alice was swept by a feeling of gratitude. Her sons and daughter were the sort of adult children everyone hoped their kids would turn into—good-hearted and interesting, accomplished, confident. Yet she felt a tiny, private flicker of worry. How was it that each one was so damned smart and attractive...and alone?
Alice thought about herself at their ages—how isolated she’d been, how alone she’d felt in her marriage. She’d forced herself to manufacture happiness for the sake of her kids and for appearances. And she’d thought she’d succeeded. But maybe not. Maybe she had failed in her dogged quest to be happy in her marriage. Maybe her children had sensed the strain she’d tried so hard to cover up. The only person she had fooled turned out to be herself. Could be that was the reason her three offspring were so cautious in their relationships.
She often thought about the conversation she’d had with Mason about Regina. Good God, but I have a big mouth, Alice thought. She still wasn’t sure if she should have said anything at all. Most women with sons in their thirties were beyond thrilled to hear the chime of wedding bells. Most women started thinking of the expanding family, grandchildren, holidays filled with laughter and love.
Alice was not like most women, apparently. She couldn’t help herself. When you saw someone about to step off a cliff, it was irresponsible not to call out a warning. So ultimately, she didn’t regret bringing it up. After that day, she and Mason had never spoken of it again. He didn’t seem upset with her, or put out. She had no idea if what she’d said resonated with him at all, but at least she’d spoken her mind.
When she was young and about to be married, no one had sat down with her and talked to her about the step she was about to take. Her own mother certainly hadn’t. All Alice could recall her mother saying to her about Trevor was, “He’s quite a catch.”
Alice recalled asking, “What about me? Aren’t I a catch?”
She couldn’t remember whether or not her mother had answered that question.
Now Alice had to focus on her other son and daughter. Adam and Ivy didn’t know anything about their father’s infidelities. It was tempting to leave things be, but Alice was done with deception. Adam and Ivy were adults. They would be able to handle it.
Far better than Alice had.
The day she’d found out about Celeste Gauthier, Alice had taken a break from reality. All the endless hours of therapy and reflection had yielded. The most powerful lesson Alice had learned was that honest, loving connections to others would always save you. An able-bodied person who isolated herself was far more crippled than a quadriplegic who was deeply connected to family and friends.
“All righty, then,” she said to Bella. “Let’s get this party started.”
Bella jumped down and pressed the plate to open the door, and led the way through with her customary prance.
“Look who’s working on Labor Day,” Ivy exclaimed.
Alice gave Bella her release command—free dog—and joined the others.
Adam bent down and gave her a kiss. “Mason was just filling us in on your surgery. We’re stoked, Mom, and we’ll be here to help any way we can.”
“I know you will. I’m a lucky mom.” Alice sighed, aiming a nervous glance at him. She still didn’t look forward to telling her daughter and son about their father. “First of all, welcome back to the lake, you two,” she said.
“And second of all?” Ivy could read her like a book. “What’s going on?”
“I need to talk to you about something that came up this summer.” She caught Mason’s eye, and he offered a nod of encouragement. “It seems... Damn.” She decided to be simple and direct. “I found out your father had an affair in Paris with a woman named Celeste Gauthier. And they had a son together twenty-three years ago.”
Watching the faces of her younger son and daughter, Alice instantly realized two things—Adam already knew, and Ivy was reeling in shock.
“I’m really sorry, Mom,” Adam said, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “That sucks.”
“Wait, you knew? How long have you known?” Mason demanded.
Adam shrugged. “Years and years.”
“And you didn’t say anything?” Alice felt conspired against, but at the same time, she understood. Like Mason, Adam had been in an untenable position. Apparently, both had embraced the family tradition—head down, mouth shut. A fresh surge of anger rose in her. Damn you, Trevor.
Ivy sat down in a chair next to Alice. The disillusionment in her eyes tore at Alice’s heart. “I don’t know what to say, Mom,” she whispered. “Dad...he was... Oh, God. There’s a boy out there...”
“I took it hard, too,” Alice said. One day she would explain everything. Not yet, though.
“Can I still love Dad?” Ivy asked. “I need to figure out if I can still love him.”
“The love you and your father shared doesn’t have to change. Don’t let it. Keep the good memories close.”
Ivy nodded, though she still looked freaked out. “I don’t want to dismiss what he did. But you’re right—I don’t want to forget how much I loved him, how good he was to me.”
“That’s all right,” Alice said.
“What about you? Are you all right?”
“Yes. In a way, it’s liberating. I’m determined to move forward with my life. It’s all I can do.”
Ivy nodded again. “Okay. So I have one more question.”
“What’s that?”
“When do I get to meet Rick Sanders?”
It was so very odd, being the parent and having to present a guy to her kids. “How about at the picnic today?”
* * *
Faith liked watching Wayan and Banni work together. As they prepared the Labor Day barbecue, they were focused and clearly in sync. Wayan’s training as a chef added a special polish and flair to his natural talent. The feast included traditional fare, like grilled corn on the cob and juicy watermelon, alongside Balinese specialties—sticky rice with mango, and curried vegetables wrapped in banana leaves and steamed over the open grill.
Everyone was gathered on the patio for drinks before the feast. Banni and Wayan offered a tray of appetizers in their signature Balinese style—a banana leaf and nasturtium blossom garnish. Banni offered Wayan a spring roll dipped in coriander chili sauce, and he pretended to swoon as he took it from her.
After Dennis died, Faith used to feel a special ache whenever she saw a close affectionate couple together. Now she felt that twinge of yearning, but the first thing that came to mind was not Dennis.
“That smells incredible,” said Mason, looking over Wayan’s shoulder at the grill.
“You should see what I can do with a piece of meat,” said Wayan. He often teased Mason good-naturedly about not eating meat.
“If anyone could tempt me, it would be you.”
“We should have a toast,” Alice said. “Does anyone know of a Labor Day toast?”
“The only ones I can think of are depressing—the end of summer, the start of school, setting the clocks back,” said Faith.
“To coming home,” said Adam. “It’s good to be back, Mom.”
“Here’s one—to me actually making a toast.” Alice’s eyes were full of hope.
“That’s going to be awesome, Mom.” Mason touched his glass to hers.
“Where’s your gorgeous fiancée, anyway?”
“Switzerland. Working.”
“On Labor Day. Hmm. I was hoping she could join us.”
“She’ll be sorry.” Ivy sneaked a sample of the berry cream dessert. “Wayan, what did you put in this? Crack?”
“Hey, Mason, if Adam’s coming back, where are you going to live?” Ruby asked bluntly.
Faith caught herself holding her breath. There was a part of her—a very secret part, she hoped�
�that wanted him to say he wasn’t going anywhere, that he would stay here forever. But now that Adam was back, Mason would return to the city and resume his life. That had been the plan from the beginning.
“I’ve got an apartment in Manhattan,” he said. “I’ll be moving back there.”
“Why do you have to go?” asked Ruby, undoubtedly voicing the thoughts of several people at the gathering. “We need you here. You said you’d teach me to play ‘Doe a Deer’ with two hands on the piano. And you’re teaching Cara to drive. And your mom—”
“Wait, what?” Faith whirled around to glare at him.
“He let her drive his car yesterday,” Ruby said. “I saw them.”
“Shut up, brat,” said Cara.
Mason spread his hands, palms up. “She’s eighteen. It’s time she learned to drive.”
“I don’t disagree. But it’s not okay to put a child behind the wheel of a car without checking with her mother.”
“Oh. Yeah, about that—”
“It was me,” Cara burst in.
“What do you mean?”
“He’s trying to keep me out of trouble. I said it was okay. I kind of implied you were on board...”
“Lovely.”
“It’s cool, Mom. I have to learn, and Mason’s an awesome teacher with an awesome car.”
The awesome teacher and the awesome car were going away. Faith realized part of her resentment came from the fact that he was leaving. This had been their best summer since Dennis, and whether he realized it or not, Mason was a big part of that—his commitment to his mother, his humor, his ridiculously active problem-solving brain. She’d grown to love the atmosphere that had developed around the house, with the girls and Alice and the staff all working and playing together. She’d always known it would be temporary. Of course she’d known that.
* * *
Faith had borrowed some books from Mason. It turned out he was as avid a reader as she was, and they shared a taste for long, deeply involving novels about big, unwieldy families. The night before he left, she gathered up the borrowed books and took them to the boathouse.
He must not have heard her approach; he stood on the upper deck looking out at the lake. Maybe it was her imagination, but to her, he looked immeasurably sad as he faced the lake and spoke with quiet intensity on the phone. Why? He was going back to the life he loved in the city. What did he have to be sad about?
She waved to get his attention and set the books by the door. Then she tried to tiptoe away, but he finished his call.
“Hey, Faith.”
“I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“It’s all right. I need to finish getting my stuff out of here so Adam can have his place back.”
“Okay, well...there are your books.” Feeling awkward, she moved toward the stairs.
“Wait.”
She stopped and turned back.
“Come on in. I have about two fingers left of Lagavulin. Let’s finish it off as a farewell to summer.”
He held the door open, and she stepped inside. The boathouse quarters consisted of one big studio room, outfitted with rustic furniture made of peeled pine, hand-woven pillows and wrought-iron fixtures. There was a small kitchen bar and a study nook, and a gigantic king-size bed.
He poured two shots and put the bottle in the recycle bin. “Cheers, Faith.”
“Cheers.” One sip reminded her of their first drink together—the smoky taste of peat, the quiet of the starlit night and the feeling of utter relief that she’d found a safe, happy situation for her girls. “I want to thank you for everything,” she said. “Except maybe taking Cara driving without talking to me first. I’m not sure I should thank you for that.”
“I’m the one who should be saying thank you,” he said. “You dragged me up here kicking and screaming—”
“I don’t recall kicking. Or screaming. You were a good sport about it. Your mother needed you, and you came.” She polished off her drink, feeling its effects warming her inside. “Wow, that’s good.” She looked around the apartment. There was a packed bag by the door. The sheets had been stripped off the bed. A chandelier made of a ship’s flywheel hung high above the bed. A spare lightbulb lay in the middle of the mattress.
He switched on the light. “I need to change the bulb,” he said. “I know, I can hear you thinking up the punch line now.”
“I don’t know any punch lines. Should we get a ladder?”
“I can reach.” He dragged a bar stool over to the bed. “Hold this steady for me.”
“Mason—”
“It’s fine.” He climbed up while she held the stool. She couldn’t escape the sight of his long, sinewy legs. Stretching as high as he could, he managed to unscrew the old bulb. He wobbled a little. “Jeez, why would anyone put a light fixture where no one can reach it?”
She took the dead bulb from him and handed him the new one. “Don’t you dare fall,” she cautioned him.
“You’re a nurse. You’ll put me back together if I break.”
“Right.”
He replaced the bulb, and it flickered on. “Success,” he declared. “We’re a good team— Shit.” Even as he spoke, the bar stool wobbled, and he came crashing down on the bed.
“Mason!” She lost her balance and practically fell on top of him. They clashed together on the bed, and it was awkward and weirdly exciting, and she laughed to cover her embarrassment.
“I’m all right,” he said, and just for a moment, his arms came up and he held on to her while they righted themselves. And then...he didn’t let go.
The strangest sensation came over Faith. She could feel his heart beating fast—as fast as hers. And it was probably her imagination, or maybe just wishful thinking, but she could have sworn their hearts were beating at the same rate. In sync.
Totally flustered, she jumped up and grabbed the fallen stool. “Sorry,” she said. “That wasn’t very helpful of me.”
“You’re always helpful, Faith.” He stood up and took a step toward her.
She kept the stool between them. “I’d better let you finish packing. And I’ve got to make sure the girls are ready for school tomorrow.”
“Right,” he said, sounding brisk.
“I know your mother is really going to miss you,” she told him.
“She’s going to be fine now that Adam’s back. I’m not needed here anymore,” he said.
The feeling of not being needed was like death to Faith.
She’d always known Mason’s sojourn here was temporary. Now that his mother was full of life and looking forward to the surgery, now that Adam was moving back, Mason would return to the city. To Regina.
But there was no way around her own feelings.
She was going to miss him like crazy.
Part Six
“It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves.”
—William Shakespeare
24
Mason and Adam had basically swapped places, Cara observed. They were both really good guys, but everything felt different with Mason gone. True to his word, he’d enlisted both Donno and Adam to help her practice driving—this time with her mom’s approval.
It wasn’t the same, though. They would all just have to get used to the idea that Mason had gone back to his life in the city. Right now, he was probably dealing with wedding plans. Regina didn’t seem too interested in visiting Avalon; they hadn’t been up in weeks, not since Alice had finished her surgery and had been going hard at her rehab program ever since. Regina was okay, Cara supposed. Smart and really stylish, but Cara wasn’t that impressed by her.
She had started her senior year of high school with mixed feelings, and now it was amazing to think she’d come to the end of school at last. Yet there was also a lot of uncerta
inty. She wanted to go to college, make something of herself, but figuring out how to go about it was overwhelming.
There was one thing she needed to do right now. Her mom had managed to rope her into planning fall college night, an open house to highlight college options for seniors and their families. The gala event would be held at the Avalon Meadows Country Club. A dozen colleges would be represented, each determined to attract the best and the brightest students in the district. There would be a performance by Yale’s Whim ’n’ Rhythm, an a cappella group. The West Point choral group would follow. There would be presentations from Skidmore, Harvard, Rochester and Columbia, featuring current students and alumni. Local students were supposed to come and hear all the great things about going to a college that cost more than the moon.
And somehow Cara had been put in charge of finding the keynote speaker.
This, at least, was a no-brainer.
She found Alice in her study with Rick Sanders. The two of them were laughing as Alice practiced her new hand ability. Thanks to the surgery she’d undergone, she was learning to grasp things with her fingers. At the moment she was grasping a dog grooming brush and attempting to brush the ever-patient Bella’s coat while Rick took their picture.
“Hey, Cara,” said Rick, setting down his camera. “How’s it going?”
“Great,” she said. “Actually, it will be great if we can talk Alice into being the keynote speaker at college night.”
“I already told you,” Alice said. “It’s flattering to be asked, but no, thank you.”
“Sounds like an exceptional gig,” Rick said, cheerfully ignoring the no. “Can I come?”
“You’ve already been to college. So have I. I’ll pass,” said Alice.