Summer Beach Reads

by Thayer, Nancy

  Howell sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and a newspaper.

  His son was not in the room.

  “Where’s Harry?” Abbie asked.

  “Hey, Abbie.” Howell pushed back his chair and stood up. “I’ve sent Harry off with another babysitter.”

  “Oh,” Abbie said in a very small voice. “So … I should leave?”

  He stepped toward her, and reached out his arms to hold her, but she moved away.

  “Abbie. No, I don’t want you to leave. Harry’s with another sitter so I can have some time alone with you. I want to talk to you. I’ve tried phoning, but you won’t pick up or return my calls. What’s going on?”

  Abbie took a few more steps so that she had a chair between her and Howell. His worried expression and the intensity of his gaze tugged on her like a lifeline.

  “Howell …” Her voice cracked. She started again. “Howell, we can’t do this. It isn’t right. We need to think of Harry.”

  Howell ran his hand through his hair, tousling it into an almost comical disarray. After a moment, he said, “Abbie, will you just sit down at the table and talk with me? Please?”

  She nodded. Her heart was so full she thought it might break. She took the chair farthest from Howell. He sat, too, and for a moment he just studied her face.

  “You’ve changed,” Howell stated bluntly. “Have you stopped loving me?”

  “God, no!” The words burst from her before she could think. She closed her eyes and focused on reining herself in. After a moment, she opened her eyes and tried to be calm. Clear. “Howell, I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you. But while you were gone, when Harry was hurt, I realized how much he needs his mother, how much he needs both his parents.” Urgently, she added, “How much he needs both his parents together.”

  Howell rubbed his hands over his face. “That’s one of the reasons I love you so much, Abbie. Because you truly love my son.” He thought for a while. “I will always love Harry more than anyone else in the world. I will always put his needs first. I will always try to do what is best for him. And I honestly believe that what would be best for him would be for you and me to be together.”

  “Oh, Howell—” Abbie started to object, but Howell interrupted her.

  “No, listen to me, hear me, Abbie. Sydney and I are miserable together. We don’t love each other, hell, most of the time we don’t even like each other. We go to intricate trouble to avoid each other. That can’t be good for any little boy, to live with parents who can scarcely stay in the room together.”

  “When he fell off the carousel, Harry was so glad to see her, he needed to see her.”

  “And you felt second best? Is that what this is about? You couldn’t console and reassure Harry the way his mother could? Abbie, Harry has known you for about two months. He’s known Sydney forever. She’ll always be the center of his life. I’m his father, and I’m on the periphery, and sometimes it makes me jealous, but I don’t think it’s all that unusual, really. Kids just need their mothers.”

  Abbie closed her eyes for a moment. “I know,” she said softly. “I know.”

  “But Harry doesn’t need only his mother. He needs me, too, and he needs you. Maybe I can’t kiss his owie and make it better, but I can teach him how to throw a baseball. And think of the things you’ve taught Harry this summer. Think how being with you has brought him out of his shell. It’s made him a stronger little boy. You know that, Abbie.”

  His words made her smile while tears streaked down her face. “Oh, Howell, I’m so confused.”

  He grinned. “Good. That means you’re thinking about all this. You’re not just slamming the door on what we could have together.”

  Abbie said, “Tell me this. If I walk away from you, will you stay with Sydney?”

  Again Howell took some time to think about his answer. At last he spoke, slowly and carefully. “Abbie, over Harry’s four little years, we have had lots of babysitters. A couple of them have been as good-looking as you, and they’ve all been competent with Harry. I haven’t lusted after them or fallen in love with them or shared anything with them like what I’ve shared with you. So, before I met you, I never seriously considered leaving Sydney. My life is full. I like my work, and it’s important to me, and I have to believe it’s important work to be doing. I could fill up every hour of every day and night with my work, and sometimes I want to. In a way, I’ve been too busy, too preoccupied, to consider whether or not I’m happy. I mean, in a way, happiness, for me, isn’t an option. Wasn’t an option, until I met you and discovered what it’s like to be in love. To be loved.”

  “You’re saying you would stay with Sydney.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I’m saying, why would I leave if I couldn’t be with you?” With a rueful smile, he added, “I don’t know if that makes things better or worse in your mind.”

  Abbie dug a tissue out of her shorts pocket and blew her nose. “I don’t know, either. I’m pretty confused, to tell the truth.”

  “Good. That gives me hope.” Howell leaned forward eagerly. “Abbie, let me tell you how I envision our life together. We’d have a house outside the city, so that Harry can have a yard with a swing set and a basketball hoop and maybe even a dog. Do you like dogs? We’d live there with Harry. He would go into the city on weekends to be with Sydney. During the week, I’d go into the city to my office, and you would take care of Harry.” He was watching her face carefully as he talked. “And I know how much you love traveling, and I have to do a lot of traveling, so when I have to travel, you’d go with me and Harry could stay with Sydney. And we’d travel wherever you wanted to go, too, of course. And Abbie, we’d have our own children. Brothers and sisters for Harry.”

  Abbie was stunned by his words. After a moment, she said, “Wow. You really know how to seduce a girl.”

  Howell said, “I sincerely hope so.”

  Abbie allowed herself to meet Howell’s gaze. His eyes were shining with love. She felt his love waiting for her, like the mysterious enormity of the sea. Her fingertips tingled, her heart raced, she trembled—she felt as if she were bodysurfing, waiting for the crest of a wave to sweep her up on a thrilling ride. She felt terrified, and exhilarated, and brave.

  Her voice shook. “I don’t want to gain my happiness at Harry’s expense.”

  “You’ll be giving more happiness to Harry, not taking it away.” Howell was trembling, too.

  She felt as if she were being broken open, to see this man she loved making himself so vulnerable, showing her how much he wanted her. Her joy felt very much like pain—and it was laced with fear. “I don’t want to take Harry away from his mother.”

  “You won’t be. He will still have his mother. And he’ll have you.”

  “I’m afraid,” Abbie confessed.

  “I’m not.” Howell stood up. He came to Abbie and took her hands in his. “Maybe you’re not, either. Maybe what you think is fear is hope.” Gently, he tugged her hands. “Take a chance, Abbie.”

  She stood up, smiling now—how could she not meet his expectant smile? “All right.”

  His voice was hoarse. “Abbie, this means you have to marry me.”

  “Oh, Howell, yes.” She was crying, too, she felt the tears well and shiver down her cheeks, as she stepped forward into his warm embrace.

  They sat together, talking about their future until the front door flew open and in came Harry and a young woman wearing a U. Mass tee shirt.

  The moment Harry saw Abbie, he raced to her, jumping into her lap. “You’re here, Nanny Abbie, you’re here!”

  She squeezed the little boy tight. “What did you do this afternoon, Harry?”

  Harry touched the bracelet on her wrist, turning the beads. “We went to Jennifer’s house. She let me watch TV.”

  Abbie saw a shadow of disapproval cross Howell’s face. It was a fresh, sunny day, not the kind of day for a child to be stuck in front of the television. As Howell paid the girl and said a cool thank-you, Abbie couldn
’t help but feel slightly smug.

  “Listen,” she said to Harry, “I’ve got to go home. I’ve got another job this evening. But I promise I’ll be here tomorrow. We’ll spend all afternoon together. Maybe I’ll even take you to a beach you’ve never seen.”

  “I don’t want you to leave, Nanny Abbie,” Harry protested, snuggling against her.

  Howell swooped down and grabbed up his son. “I don’t want her to leave, either, Big Guy, but she has to. And she’ll be here tomorrow—and I’ll go to the beach with you.”

  Abbie kissed Harry good-bye and smiled a kiss at Howell. She walked home, her head and heart so full she scarcely noticed where she was going. She was almost frightened by her happiness. Could she trust it? Was it real?

  As she walked closer to her front door, she could hear sounds coming from inside, and the odd thing was, it sounded like a baby was crying. God, was she so overwrought she was hallucinating?

  She opened the door and went inside.

  Over the baby’s cries, she heard Emma’s voice.

  “I won’t go away, Marina. I’m not going to leave you alone with him. He dumped you, he hurt you, he left you. You came here, you are here, and I won’t let you leave!”

  Abbie walked into her living room. It took a moment for her mind to make sense of what her eyes saw. Marina was holding a baby! A strange man was digging around in a diaper bag. And Emma was pacing back and forth behind the sofa, waving her hands and raving.

  “What’s going on?” Abbie asked.

  “Abbie!” Emma almost shrieked. “Thank God you’re here.” She snatched the diaper bag from the man and grabbed up the crying baby from Marina. She thrust them both at Abbie. “You know how to diaper babies and warm up a bottle. I’ve got to stay here and protect Marina from this—this man.”

  Abbie took the baby and automatically brought it to her shoulder, snuggling its tummy against her and leaning her cheek against the tiny hot head. “Emma, calm down. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “That man is Marina’s ex-husband,” her sister said. “Ex-husband. His new wife died and he wants Marina to come back and take care of him and the baby.” Emma hung the diaper bag over Abbie’s shoulder. “And I’m not going to let that happen.”

  51

  Emma

  “And call Dad,” Emma told Abbie. “Tell him to come home.”

  “Emma—” Abbie began, but the baby began to wail in earnest, drowning out Emma’s words.

  Emma turned back. Gerry sat down on the sofa next to Marina and reached for her hand.

  One small rational part of Emma’s brain warned her that she was spinning out of control, but a stronger emotion, a survival instinct, overpowered her.

  Emma stepped right over the coffee table and stood between Marina and Gerry.

  “Don’t you sit so close to her,” she ordered Gerry. “You have no right to sit close to her. You shouldn’t be here at all.”

  The man was amused, he was almost laughing. “This has nothing to do with you!”

  “It has everything to do with—” Emma began.

  “For God’s sake.” Gerry stood up so fast he almost knocked Emma over. With his nose practically in her face, he said, with quiet arrogance, “Will you please just go away and leave us alone? This is between Marina and me.”

  Emma was trembling with rage. “You’re wrong. Nothing is between Marina and you anymore. You forfeited your right to Marina. You left her. She’s going to marry my father. She’s ours now!”

  He didn’t back up an inch. He was extremely handsome, and his blue eyes were smug.

  He sneered. “Why don’t you let Marina decide for herself?”

  “Because it’s not just about her,” Emma retorted hotly. “She’s part of our family now. She loves my father. And when he gets home, you’ll see what a superior person he is, and how he deserves her love more than some vain, smarmy hot dog like you!”

  Gerry shook his head, as if completely perplexed. He stepped away from Emma. To Marina he said, “Can we go somewhere private to talk?”

  “No!” Emma clenched her fists. “You have no right!”

  “Emma.” Marina stood up and put her arm around Emma, holding her tightly. “Emma, it’s okay. Emma—”

  The front door slammed. Lily floated into the room, blithe and summery, in a little pink-checked sundress, with her luscious red hair drifting around her head.

  “Guess what! Eartha’s asked me to go to Paris with her!” Seeing a strange and handsome man in her living room, she flounced forward, holding out her hand graciously. “Hello. I’m Lily Fox.”

  Gerry muttered, “Good God, how many of you are there?”

  Abbie came back into the room. The baby was tucked carefully against her breast, and with her free hand she held the bottle to the infant’s mouth. He was sucking eagerly. “Oh, good, Lily, you’re home. I was going to make iced tea for all of us but we’re out of tea and lemons—”

  Lily’s jaw dropped. “Where did you get that baby?”

  Marina released Emma and strained forward to see the baby in Abbie’s arms. Marina’s face radiated a pleasure Emma had never seen before.

  Emma’s heart sank.

  “Oh my God,” Emma whispered. “Of course. Of course you’re going to choose a baby. Who would ever choose us?”

  She stepped back over the coffee table. Blinded by tears, she pushed past silly Lily and Abbie and the perfect baby.

  “Emma, wait,” Marina called.

  But Emma didn’t stop. She wanted to get out of that room. She wanted to turn her back on Marina before Marina turned her back on them.

  She fled up the stairs and into her room. She shut the door and fell on her bed, where she curled up in fetal position, hugging her knees to her chest. She hurt so much it was almost intolerable. A high burning pain flamed between her breasts.

  She hated Marina. Hated her. She wanted Marina to die, it would be better for Marina to just die than to leave Emma’s father for another man, but of course Marina wasn’t leaving Emma’s father, she was leaving Emma’s father and his three obnoxious unlovable daughters.

  After years of loneliness, their father had fallen in love, had found happiness, and now Marina was going to just walk away from him. And Abbie would give up her chance at love, and Lily would do whatever the hell she wanted, and Emma and her father would live out their lives, spinster and widower, two rejected and unloved human beings.

  She had thought, when she arrived home at the beginning of the summer, that she had reached the most extreme point of misery. But she’d been wrong. That had all been a minor rain shower compared to the tempest of grief and self-loathing that descended on her now.

  “Emma?” Abbie came into the room. She sat on the edge of Emma’s bed. “Are you okay?”

  Emma snorted. “Sure. I’m peachy keen.”

  “Marina has taken Gerry—and the baby—out to her cottage to talk.”

  “To talk. Right.”

  “You think they’re going to jump into bed together? Give Marina some credit, Emma. She’s not an idiot.”

  “You saw how she drooled over that baby.”

  “Well, babies are adorable. Nature made them that way. But it’s not about Marina choosing the baby over us, Emma. It’s about whether she really loves Dad or still loves Gerry.”

  “He’s so handsome.”

  “So’s Dad.”

  Emma wanted to wail. She rolled over and threw herself onto Abbie’s lap. “I don’t want Dad to be hurt!”

  Abbie cuddled Emma against her. She smoothed Emma’s hair. “I don’t want him to be hurt, either, Emma. But you and I can’t do anything about it. It’s up to Marina.”

  “I hate her.”

  “No, you don’t hate her. You love her. So do I.”

  “I want to stab her. I want to stab her in the foot.”

  Abbie laughed. “I understand your thinking. You’re not crazy enough to kill her, but you’d like to hurt her.”

  “I would. I would like to
hurt her as much as she’s hurting us.”

  “But, Emma, she hasn’t decided anything yet.”

  “Emma?”

  The door opened, and for a moment Emma’s heart leapt with hope, but it wasn’t Marina. It was Lily who walked into the room.

  Emma said, “Go away.”

  Lily said, “Emma. Millicent Bracebridge is on the phone. She wants to talk to you.”

  52

  Lily

  Emma stared at Lily for one long moment. Then she sat up and held out her hand for the cordless phone. She smothered the receiver with a pillow as she cleared her throat. When she said, “Hello?” her voice was surprisingly normal.

  Abbie grabbed Lily by the arm, escorted her out of the room, and shut the door behind them.

  “Let’s go to your room,” Abbie said.

  They opened Lily’s bedroom door. She’d forgotten how messy it had become over the last few days of the summer. Well, of course, she’d had to sort through things fast when she packed to go over to Jason’s. Still, it was a shambles.

  “Oh, Lily.” Abbie turned around. “Let’s go into my room.”

  Abbie’s room was the anti-Lily’s. All her clothes were tucked away out of sight and her bed was made with nunlike perfection.

  “You live in a convent,” Lily said.

  “You live in a pigpen,” Abbie shot back without any particular venom. She waved at the chair by the window and threw herself down on her bed. “What did you say about Paris?”

  “Abbie, Eartha asked me to go with her to New York, and then to Paris. She wants me to stay with her for six months, maybe more. She’ll pay me five thousand dollars a month, plus I’ll get room and board free, plus I’m sure she’ll give me more clothes.”

  Abbie smiled. “Sounds like a dream come true for you, Lily.”

  Lily fingered her engagement ring. “But what will I do about Jason?”

  Abbie was taking off her clothes as she talked, and her mind was clearly not on Lily or even on Marina and the baby. “Have you mentioned Eartha’s suggestion to Jason?”