Quickly wrapping a towel around her head to keep her hair dry, Kellie showered then dressed, pulling on a tight white Spandex ruched dress and a pair of strappy sandals. She glanced in the mirror, touched up her hair, spritzed on some Juicy perfume, and applied red lip gloss. She glanced at her phone. It was already 12:15.
Brandon, who’d jumped into the shower for a minute, dried off, then thrown on a pale blue linen shirt and khaki shorts but was still barefoot, was downstairs unlocking the door to the fully furnished, customized basement that had the feel of a nightclub. Kellie caught up and they walked downstairs together, hearing voices.
Music could be heard, meaning somebody had hooked up a phone to the state-of-the-art speakers, which played an R&B mix from a customized playlist. The main lounge area in the center of the room appeared like a small urban dance club. A sleek black and chrome bar stretched diagonally along one corner. The LED-lit acrylic dance floor was shaped like a hexagon, with the bar to the left and a polished chrome stripper pole near the right corner. Two matching minimalist midcentury red leather sofas bracketed the dance floor. The walls and ceilings were mirrors. Behind the dance floor hung a sixty-inch smart LED HDTV that currently featured three naked women and two men wearing nothing but cowboy hats. The sound had been turned off in favor of the music selections.
“Welcome, everyone!” said Kellie. “Happy Hump Day!”
Sitting on the couch sipping Diet Cokes were The Watchers, a forty-something couple who insisted on anonymity and were always referred to as “A” (the man) and “B” (the woman). They never interacted sexually with the other club members, but they loved to watch.
“Hi, Kellie,” said B, crossing her legs and sitting back. “Happy Hump Day to you, too.”
Brandon walked over to the bar area and poured rum and Cokes for himself and Kellie. This space also included a refrigerator, sink, and small counter with cabinet above. Drinks, fruit, and other food items were provided, and a glass bowl on the counter collected soda and snack money.
Kellie had named her secret sex club “Rocks,” chosen for its multiple meanings. Swingers in the neighborhood who participated in this open lifestyle placed large landscaping rocks at the end of their driveways. The slogan “get your rocks off” had been thrown around somewhat jokingly, and a small neon sign hanging from the ceiling near the bar read “On the Rocks.”
Holding their drinks, Kellie and Brandon starting dancing when Chaka Khan’s “Ain’t Nobody” began to play.
“Hello, everyone,” said Felicia after she’d entered the combination password and she and her Jamaican friend Mycah walked in. “What’s the good word, friends?” Mycah added with her warm accent and matching smile.
Kellie had met the twenty-something bi-curious women at her gym and become fast friends with them. A conversation in the locker room one day had led Kellie to invite them over for a party, and they’d been regular club members ever since. Still wearing her workout wear, CrossFit instructor Felicia, her honey-toned skin still glistening from the gym, headed to the bathroom with Mycah to shower and change.
The shower room was built of glass block and lit from the inside. Club members could see individuals or couples or threesomes who were inside the area, but only in silhouette.
The song ended and Kellie walked around the perimeter of the room, opening the doors to three smaller rooms. “So what’s everyone in the mood for today, in addition to watching these gorgeous ladies’ silhouetted curves?”
She smiled, thinking of the horrifying scene this morning at Jeannie’s house. If only the PTA president knew how often her husband had been in these very rooms.
Safely harbored at her Matthew’s Island cottage and with a bottle of wine tucked under one arm, Eva used her elbow to open the rickety wooden screen door, which thwapped shut behind her. Three worn, painted wooden Adirondack chairs faced the protected cove just inside the waters of the Chesapeake Bay. She placed a tray of cheeses and crackers, grapes and nuts on a small wooden side table. Maggie and Lisa looked up from their peaceful perches, thanking her. Eva opened the wine and poured, and the three friends raised their glasses in a silent toast, drinking together.
“Welcome to the island, friends,” said Eva, looking more casual in a cotton Gap tank dress and flip-flops than she normally did in her crisp business attire. Her dark, neat bob, typically coiffed in a courtroom, was pulled back in a striped headband.
“It is so unfuckingbelievably nice to be here,” said Maggie with her ever-present Boston accent. She gestured toward the pinks and purples and reds in the sky; the waterfront sunset view was mesmerizing. “If you had told us you had this kind of view, we’d a’ brought bigger suitcases.”
Lisa added, “Agreed. We didn’t get to see the sunset last time we were here. Thanks so much for having us down to visit. The drive from Keytown wasn’t anywhere near as bad as we thought it might be for a Friday.”
“Good idea leaving early; that damn Bay Bridge. Honestly, I just can’t believe we haven’t all had a weekend together here until now,” said Eva. “We’ve talked about it forever but it’s so hard to get our schedules coordinated.”
“I’m glad to finally be getting the floors in my shop refinished,” said Maggie. “Whoever pulled up the carpet originally did a crappy job and I was sick of trying to hide the mess with hooked rugs. Dragging the racks of vintage clothes to the empty store next to me was a pain in the ass. I’m just happy I had an excuse to close the shop and get outta town for the weekend.”
“Me too,” said Lisa, who looked exhausted, pale; dark circles under her eyes, a wrinkled T-shirt. “Zarina offered to help fill a few orders for me this weekend before she opens the coffee shop so I could close the bakery. I needed a change of scenery in the worst way.”
“I don’t even know what to say, I’m just so sorry,” said Eva, standing. “We talked on the phone and text messaged, but this is the first I’ve seen you.” She walked over to Lisa’s chair. “I’ve been thinking about you.”
Lisa stood up and let Eva hug her.
“I’m so sorry about the baby, Lis,” said Maggie, standing too and adding, “Group hug.”
The three women stood for a moment embracing as Lisa sniffed back tears. She pulled her blond ponytail back together, patting her creased shorts so she had something to do with her hands. She fought back more tears, struggling not to fall into a cavern of open grief. She knew how hard it was to come back once you allowed yourself a full-on crying jag.
Lisa picked up her wine glass again, sipped, and sat down. Maggie and Eva followed suit, sitting and reaching for their own glasses.
“I lost a baby once,” said Eva. “I don’t really talk about it that much, but I want you to know I understand. It’s so awful. No one knows what to say and everyone says the wrong thing and there’s nothing anyone could say to make you feel better anyway. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too,” said Maggie. “When my son died as a baby I thought for sure the universe had conspired to punish me for something. What God would let a baby die? I’ve been thinking about you and I’m so sorry you’ve had to go through this after all the effort you and Jim have put in.”
“It’s been devastating,” said Lisa. “I had seen the heartbeat on the ultrasound monitor so I thought…”
Lisa sipped her wine, even though her lips and her hands were trembling. She picked up a few grapes from the table and put them in her mouth. She wasn’t hungry, but she knew eating them would give her a minute to try to compose herself, since she didn’t know if she could speak. Something about the salty air and the breeze and the sunset made her feel welcome to open up the waterworks and let herself cry for hours, but she didn’t want to do that in front of her friends regardless of how understanding she knew they’d be, and she doubted she had that many tears left anyway.
“I blamed myself,” said Eva. “I hope you’re not doing that. I didn’t even really have a reason to, but I figured it must have been something I did. I drank wine or ran on the t
readmill before I knew I was pregnant, so it must have been something like that. No matter how many times the doctor told me it wasn’t something I could have prevented, I felt like it was.”
“I’ve blamed myself, too,” said Lisa. “I guess I never told you both about it, but I guess you remember Ben, my graphic designer crush, the one I pretended to be sleeping with so I could be in the Scarlet Letter Society?”
“Of course,” said Maggie. “You had imaginary sex with him under a covered bridge.”
“Well, one night just before I ended our flirtation or friendship or whatever it was, we did actually kiss,” said Lisa.
“Oh no,” said Eva. “You do not mean to tell me that you think you lost the baby you’ve been wanting for the last five years because you kissed someone besides your husband?”
“Oh, Christ,” said Maggie. “Say it ain’t so. You never even slept with him!”
“I know it doesn’t make any sense,” said Lisa. “It’s just that Jim and I are in a better place now and we worked so hard to get pregnant, I just thought somehow I was being punished for even thinking of sleeping with another man. I know it’s ridiculous.”
“Sweetie, I’m no churchgoer, but I don’t think God punishes people for being human,” said Maggie. She put down her wine glass, tucking her unruly auburn curls back inside her vintage Boston Red Sox baseball cap and picking up a piece of cheese and some almonds. “Isn’t he the one who made us human in the first place?”
“God would have struck me with lightning at least five times by now if he was going punish people for sleeping with someone they aren’t married to,” said Eva, “and you didn’t even do that.”
“I’d be dead a bunch of times over as well,” said Maggie, “deader than Eva, not that there’s a zombie slut competition.”
Lisa laughed, and it felt good. She hadn’t laughed in a while. Eva and Maggie laughed with her.
“Yes, well, I wouldn’t want to take you on in the Slutty Zombie Pageant,” said Eva.
“You would kick my ass in that swimsuit competition,” said Maggie.
“How are your boys doing, Eva?” Lisa asked, drying her tears and happy to change the topic.
“Well, they’re fine,” said Eva. “Still in lacrosse camp right now. Getting ready to head back to high school where I’ll have to stress out over their grades and what colleges will admit them despite these numbers.”
Maggie laughed. “They’re good enough players that someone oughta take them. I’m glad that after May I will be down to only one college tuition. Hey, you mentioned Zarina. Nice she’s helping you out. How’s she doing? With all the renovations at my shop, I haven’t been in there lately.”
“She’s great,” said Lisa. “Stanley is in the shop with her a few days a week making the best sandwiches, and they are so adorable together.”
“They are,” said Maggie. “The newlyweds! Still can’t believe they eloped.”
“A wise choice,” said Eva. “Saved them a ton of money.”
The women turned their heads at the crackling sound of a pickup truck rolling into the oyster shell driveway. Eva stood.
“That must be our dinner,” she said.
“I thought you couldn’t get anything delivered on this island,” said Maggie.
“Most people can’t,” said Eva, as a shadow of a smile crossed her face.
She walked around the screened porch to greet her visitor in the driveway as he got out of the rusted pickup truck. The waterman wore a faded baseball hat, ribbed tank top, rubber hip-waders, and white boots, a standard-issue uniform for the boat captains who went out into the Chesapeake Bay each day in search of crabs or oysters, depending on the season.
Maggie and Lisa looked at each other inquisitively, confirming that neither recognized the visitor.
“Hey, Eva,” said the fishing boat captain.
“Hi, Nathan. I really can’t thank you enough for coming by after a day on the water,” said Eva.
“Well, you can’t buy crabs retail anywhere on this island, so the only thing to really do if you don’t want to ride up the road is to know a waterman,” said Nathan, smiling down at her from a four-inch height advantage.
“I feel lucky,” said Eva.
“Do you want me to steam these up for you ladies?” he asked, removing a tattered wooden bushel basket from the bed of his older model pickup truck. Moving crustacean legs poked out of the slats of the basket, and the faint scratching of the live Maryland blue crabs could be heard from inside. It was the state’s most prized seafood.
“Yeah, steam everything up for us,” Maggie said with a snicker.
“Nathan, these are my friends Maggie and Lisa,” said Eva by way of introduction. “And you don’t need to steam them. I have that big crab pot and the propane burner and I can just throw them in there.”
“Hello, ladies,” said Nathan, tipping his hat. “All right, well, let me get that started for you anyway.”
Nathan walked to the old open-ended wooden garage near the house and took out the large metal crab pot, propane, and burner.
Eva smiled at her friends. She held up her wine glass.
“We’ll have to take a break from this wine,” she said. “As you all well know, we only drink beer around here with steamed crabs.”
Maggie and Lisa stood up from their Adirondack chairs, offering help, and the three women set about preparing the picnic table. Eva unrolled brown paper, taping it at the corners. Maggie brought out a wooden crab set that included mallets, a roll of paper towels, and crab knives. Lisa put together a bowl of vinegar and a bowl of J&O seasoning, which Eva told her the country store recommended over the Old Bay spice more commonly used elsewhere in the state.
While all the dinner preparations were going on, Maggie whispered, “Guess we’ll hear all about this one at dinner?” to Eva, who just shook her head, waving away the suggestion. Nathan prepared the fresh catch, lighting the outdoor propane burner, putting a few inches of water at the bottom of the large crab pot, adding seasoning and vinegar, and finally dumping the crabs into the pot.
“You think two and a half dozen or so will be enough?” he asked Eva.
“Plenty,” said Eva. She trotted down the steps from the screened porch carrying her wallet and a Summer Shandy beer. “How much do I owe you?” she asked Nathan, handing him the beer.
He smiled at her, highlighting his deep sun-bronzed dimples, and the wrinkles around his steely deep blue eyes.
“Fancy city beer, huh?” he asked, taking the bottle.
Adjusting the brim of his hat and scratching at his prematurely salt-and-pepper beard, Nathan held a finger in the air, pretending to calculate numbers in his head. “No charge, Eva. These were leftovers.”
“I know that’s not true,” said Eva. “Because crabs are scarce this season.”
Nathan tipped his hat again to Maggie and Lisa as he walked back to his truck. “You ladies enjoy yourselves this evening, a’ight?”
“Thanks for the special delivery,” said Eva, waving to the islander as he pulled out of the driveway.
Maggie sat down at the picnic table, pulling her wild auburn hair into a ponytail and pulling it through the hole in her baseball hat in preparation for eating the messy seafood. “Care to tell us what the ever living fuck just happened there?” she asked, a grin spreading across her face.
“He is very handsome,” said Lisa, blushing. “Is he a…friend of yours?”
“Geez, girls, get your minds out of the gutter,” said Eva, opening the lid of the crab pot to add more seasoning and a splash of vinegar. “He’s just a local waterman I met at the country store awhile back who gave me his number in case I ever needed crabs to eat for dinner. Like Nathan said, you can’t buy them live anywhere on the island because the watermen sell their catches to the restaurant industry. So you have to know someone in order to get them, or ride your bike over to the docks when they come in from the water.”
“Oh, you’ve got his number all right,” said Maggie.
“And it seems like he’s got yours, too.”
“As a recent divorcée who finally took a real vacation for the first time in my life, the last thing I’m doing is scouting out potential boyfriends,” said Eva.
“I know the three of us haven’t gotten together in a few months,” said Lisa, “but you still have a boyfriend, right?”
“I do,” said Eva, “though it seems weird to call a man like Charles a boyfriend. He’s, well, he even came down to visit the island one weekend last month, but I haven’t been in New York very often so I haven’t really seen him much.”
“I think it’s great you took some time off,” said Maggie. “With your mom passing and the divorce, it seemed like the perfect time for you to take a break. I bet the chef from New York misses you working up there.”
“In some ways—some very specific ways—I miss him, too,” said Eva, smiling to herself. “He is really, really talented at food preparation. And he’s been so supportive.”
“But?” said Lisa. “It sounded like you were going to add a ‘but.’”
“Ahh, this girl is always ready to add a butt,” said Maggie, laughing at her own joke. “Even if it’s wearing rubber pants.”
Eva glared at Maggie. “You know, I don’t just jump into bed with every guy I meet.”
Maggie responded, “Lighten up, island girl. You know I’m just playing. So do you need some help getting those hot steaming crabs on the table, or what?”
The Scarlet Letter Scandal Page 2