Death in a Beach Chair

by Valerie Wolzien

  “What are you smiling about?” Kathleen Gordon slid into the chair across from Susan.

  “I-” Susan looked out on the pier. “I thought I was watching you. Out there. I thought that woman walking on the pier was you.”

  “I’m flattered,” Kathleen said. “She’s gorgeous. Jerry could hardly take his eyes off her yesterday. Of course, she was wearing the tiniest swimsuit I’ve ever seen then, not a robe,” she continued while Susan’s mouth dropped open.

  “I… you know how men are,” was Susan’s inadequate comment. Both women had been married for many years. They did know how men were, but that didn’t necessarily mean they excused them.

  Kathleen didn’t respond.

  “Would you like some coffee?” Susan asked. “The waiter is around somewhere.”

  “Someone will be over in a minute. The staff here is very attentive.”

  “Have you and Jerry been having fun? What have you been doing? How was dinner in town last night?”

  “Awful. I think we picked out the worst restaurant on the island. It was dirty, noisy, and the food was dreadful.”

  “Why did you go there? Did someone recommend it?”

  “No, we were just walking by. The menu was posted. It looked okay. You know how it is.”

  “Sure, but… I don’t understand why you went into town. The food here is supposed to be wonderful. Don’t tell me it isn’t.”

  “Oh, no! We arrived in time for lunch. The food here is fabulous! I had a piece of grilled fish-I think it was grouper-and it was delicious. Really light and the spices were so unusual. And Jerry had a shrimp salad that was sensational.”

  “Then why did you go into town?”

  “Damned if I know.” Kathleen frowned. “It was Jerry’s idea.”

  Susan, who was happy to sympathize if a female friend wanted to criticize her own husband, but knew enough not to be the one to start it, changed the subject. “Was your flight on time?”

  “Yes. Thank heavens. Alex was up almost the entire night before we left. He claimed to have had a series of nightmares, but I think he was worried about us being gone. I got on the plane and fell asleep almost immediately. I didn’t wake up until the pilot announced that we were about to land. So I arrived feeling wonderful. I only wish the same were true of Jerry. He says he didn’t even nap, and he’s completely exhausted from that mess at the agency. I’m really worried about him. I can’t remember the last time I saw him relax.”

  “You mean that new account Jed and Jerry took over in December?”

  “That and everything else,” Kathleen answered vaguely. “Oh, there’s that nice young man who keeps track of the kayaks. I watched a young couple paddling around in the water yesterday afternoon and it looked like they were having so much fun. I want to reserve two for Jerry and me. Do you and Jed want to try, too?”

  “I… I think I’d rather watch first. To tell the truth, my plans for today include a short swim in the pool and lots of time spent with a paperback in one hand and a cool drink in the other. Maybe tomorrow I’ll feel more energetic.”

  “Then I’ll just ask him to reserve two. Oh, there’s Jed! I’ll tell him we’re over here.”

  “Great.”

  Susan picked up her coffee and resumed her contemplation of the ocean.

  “Hi, hon.” Jed leaned down for his morning kiss. “Sleep well?”

  “Sure did.”

  “I’m surprised you’re up so early.”

  “I’m planning a leisurely day of dozing in the sun. Thought I’d get an early start.”

  “Just be careful that you don’t get a burn,” Jed warned.

  “I won’t. I packed three different sunscreens. Besides, there are umbrellas set up all over the place.” She looked around. “It’s really nice here, isn’t it?”

  “It certainly is bright.” Jed looked over his shoulder. “Where have Kathleen and Jerry gone?”

  “Kath is trying to reserve kayaks for them to use today, and I haven’t seen Jerry yet. Maybe he’s sleeping late. Kath says he’s been exhausted.” She thought for a moment before asking a question. “Have things been going on at the agency that you haven’t told me about?”

  “Probably. I don’t tell you everything, after all. But I gather you’re referring to something specific?”

  “I don’t know. Kathleen mentioned problems, and you hadn’t told me anything unusual. Oh, here they come. Let’s order. I’m starving.” If she had been a bit less hungry, she might have noticed the change of expression on her husband’s face when she mentioned problems, but Jed had reassumed his relaxed facade by the time Jerry and Kathleen arrived at the table. They were followed closely by a perky waitress who offered menus and coffee.

  They spent the next few minutes deciding on their orders. Jed and Jerry stuck to eggs and bacon, but both Kathleen and Susan threw caution-and their diets-into the Caribbean winds and decided on coconut French toast and fresh tropical fruit cup.

  The food arrived promptly and it was wonderful. More and more hotel guests began to appear, many of them barefoot, dressed only in swimsuits and flowing cover-ups. Susan noticed that the casual atmosphere hadn’t forced some of the diners to leave their jewels at home. One deeply tanned woman wore gold chains around her neck, both arms, and one ankle. A thin gold chain draped around her hips just below her navel completed the ensemble. The man she was with had adopted a yachting theme-boat shoes, navy slacks, a navy and white striped knit shirt-and a hat proclaiming him to be the captain shielded his eyes from the already warm sunshine. Susan leaned toward Kathleen. “Look at the woman over there. She’s…”

  But Kathleen wasn’t listening. She was staring at her husband with her mouth hanging open and a distressed expression on her face. “But I thought you wanted to kayak. Yesterday when we were watching that young couple, you said it looked like lots of fun.”

  “No, you said it looked like lots of fun. I just didn’t disagree with you. Kath, I am not going to go out on the ocean in a little slip of plastic that could flip over at any minute. Period.”

  “But-but I don’t want to go out alone.”

  Susan realized the Gordons’ vacation wasn’t starting off on the right foot, and she hurried in to help. “I’ll kayak with you, Kath. I was just telling Jed that it sounded like fun.”

  Jed looked up from his plate. “But I thought-”

  “I was planning to lie around all day,” Susan admitted. “But now that I’ve consumed about a million calories, I think some exercise is an excellent idea. Maybe we could get another kayak if you want to join us. Right, Kath?”

  “Sure. There are five or six available. Do you want me to check with James?”

  “Who’s James?”

  “He’s the young man who keeps track of the sports equipment and the towels and stuff like that. There’s a little cabana/kiosk building right in front of our cottage; he might be there.” Kathleen sat up a bit straighter and looked around. “There he is. He’s arranging the seats by the pool. I wonder if we could reserve the four chaises in front of your cottage. Maybe put books on them or something?”

  Jerry glanced over at the seats his wife was talking about. A line of about a dozen wooden lounges stood on the patio between the cottages and the seawall that lined the beach. As they watched, a young man wiped the night’s dew from them and laid out heavy canvas pads and towels. “Aren’t those seats a bit exposed?”

  “Exposed?” Kathleen said.

  “To the sun,” Jerry explained. “I don’t want to get a burn. I was thinking of lying by the pool-under an umbrella-or maybe napping inside.”

  “Inside? Jerry, we’re on an island in the Caribbean. No one stays inside unless it’s raining!”

  “You’re the one who keeps telling me that I look sleepy.”

  “You do look sleepy,” Kathleen agreed, looking guilty. “But we’re on vacation… and I thought… oh, I don’t know what I thought.”

  Susan and Jed, simultaneously recognizing a marital argument in its
formative stages, chimed in.

  “I know just how Jerry feels. A long nap is on my schedule today, as well,” Jed spoke up.

  “We need to remember to cover ourselves with sunscreen before we go out on the water, too,” Susan reminded Kathleen, hoping to change the subject and return to the relaxed conversation of a few minutes ago. “And are there life vests? In Maine we always wear life vests.”

  “You know, I think that I did see someone wearing a life vest yesterday. We’ll ask James. We don’t have to go out very far, you know. The reef is only a hundred feet or so beyond the gazebo.”

  “Reef?”

  “Yes, there’s a gorgeous coral reef right out there. James told me all about it yesterday afternoon. That’s why I want to go out this morning. He said that the tide will be higher later in the day and it will be harder to see the fish and all.”

  “Oh, Kath! A coral reef! I had no idea! I thought we were just going kayaking for the exercise. How wonderful! When is the best time to go? Now? Or should we wait for a bit?”

  “I think an hour after eating is usually suggested,” Jerry reminded them. “That gorgeous blue expanse is the ocean, you know.”

  “An hour. What can we do for an hour?” Susan wailed.

  “There’s a really nice gift shop right next to our cabin,” Kathleen pointed out.

  Susan smiled. “Perfect! Lead the way.” The women got up and set out for one of their favorite activities. But Susan, turning back to remind Jed where she had stashed the sunscreen when she was unpacking last night, was stunned to see the expression on Jerry’s face.

  He had turned around so his back was to his friend and colleague and was staring out to sea looking completely miserable.

  THREE

  Susan used a touring kayak to cruise around the islands in Maine in the summer and she was accustomed to its smooth glide through the water, but the lightweight plastic kayak Compass Bay provided was another story. It bounced over the surf like seaweed bobbing on the waves. She found she could lean out and look into the water without fear of tipping over. There were colorful fish all around, but the biggest thrill was floating over the fabulous coral reef, which was clearly visible through the water. “This is incredible,” she said.

  Kathleen was paddling by her side. “It is, isn’t it? James takes out groups of scuba divers every few days. They swim around and through the reefs. I wasn’t planning to sign up, but now that I see this…”

  “I’ll go. And I know Jed won’t want to miss this.”

  “I wish I could say the same for Jerry. Do you know, I think he really was planning on going back to our room to rest when we were on our way out here? I couldn’t believe it! I’m beginning to think there might be something seriously wrong with him.”

  “You mean his health?” Susan asked, instantly concerned. Too many men of Jed and Jerry’s age were having heart attacks. As a wife, she wasn’t taking any chances. She might eat Häagen-Dazs ice cream herself, but she hid it on the bottom shelf of the basement freezer and offered low-fat frozen yogurt to her husband.

  “No, his health is okay. I insisted that he get a complete physical the first week of January and everything’s fine.” She paused for a moment, slowly moving her paddle in and out of the surf. “I’ve been wondering if he’s depressed. You know, if he should see a psychiatrist.”

  “Have you suggested it?”

  “Not directly. Jerry’s too smart to believe that having problems with your mental health is anything to be ashamed of, but I don’t want him to think that I think there’s something wrong with him. I’ve wondered out loud if antidepressants would make life easier, when we’re watching TV and those ads come on, though.”

  “How does he respond?”

  “He just nods and sort of grunts like he isn’t listening too carefully. You know how men are sometimes.”

  “I sure do. But, if you really think he needs to see someone…”

  “I don’t know what he needs,” Kathleen said. The happy expression on her face when she’d been watching the fish had vanished, Susan noticed. “I know he’s unhappy, miserable even. But I don’t know why and I don’t know what to do about it. I just keep thinking…”

  “What?” Susan urged her friend to continue talking. “What do you keep thinking?”

  “I keep thinking that Jerry’s regretting getting married to me and… and having a second family.”

  “Kathleen, that’s not possible. Jerry loves you and the kids! How could you even consider that?”

  “I-there are lots of little things. He really is unhappy, Susan. He says it’s just problems at work and that they will clear up. But it’s been getting worse for over a month. And last week-” She stopped speaking.

  “What happened last week?”

  Kathleen was obviously having a difficult time discussing this. She took a deep breath and began. “I was looking for summer clothing to bring on this trip, so I went into the back of Jerry’s closet where he stores his golf shoes and things like that and I found a cardboard box full of photos of June and the girls. It was open as though Jerry had been going through it recently. I don’t resent it or anything, but when I found that-and then connected it to the fact that he’s been so depressed and not like himself at all-well, I just wonder what he’s thinking. His personality has really changed in the past few months. He’s even been shouting at the kids, and you know that’s not like him. Usually Alex and Emily get away with murder when he’s around.”

  “The two things might not be connected,” Susan suggested. She heard the pain in her friend’s voice and wanted desperately to offer her some solace. “Or the box of photos might have been stored there and just fallen out. You know he must think about them sometimes.”

  “Of course I do. We talk about them. And he talks to the kids about them, too. After all, Alex has had two of the teachers that Jerry and June’s oldest daughter had, and Emily has the same kindergarten teacher that their youngest girl had. Every once in a while someone who doesn’t know about the accident will assume that those girls are still alive and that Alex or Emily is a younger sibling. The kids have always had to deal with that, so of course they know about the accident. It doesn’t seem to worry Emily at all, although Alex is old enough to begin asking questions about his daddy being sad because of the deaths.”

  “He’s a really levelheaded kid,” Susan said.

  “I know. And I’m thankful for that, but when he has nightmares like he did the night before we left, I wonder if the tragedy that ended Jerry’s first marriage hasn’t affected him somehow.”

  “And now you’re wondering if maybe it’s bothering Jerry, too?” Susan asked.

  “I saw a television show on post-traumatic stress. It can appear years and years after the event. This show was about Vietnam vets, but losing your entire family the way that Jerry did certainly could be as stressful as a war.”

  Susan didn’t respond immediately. She stared down into the water and remembered the night that Jerry had called to tell her that his wife and two daughters had died in a flaming pile of metal on the highway near Hancock. She had been nearly paralyzed with shock and grief, but Jerry had coped with his loss. He had organized the funeral, dealt with June’s family, and entertained the many friends and neighbors who had attended the funeral and then come to visit in the following weeks.

  A few months later, Jerry had accepted Susan’s offer of help, clearing the house of June’s and the children’s possessions before he put it on the market and moved into a small condo downtown near the train station. At the time, Susan had wondered at Jerry’s lack of outward emotion, but Jed, who had known Jerry since college, had claimed that this was Jerry’s way of handling things, and in all honesty, Susan had been relieved. She and June had been good friends; her children and Susan’s children had been nearly the same ages. They’d gone to school, parties, swimming lessons, and dancing lessons together. They had been inseparable at the Hancock Field Club. They had gone to Disney World on family vacatio
ns, trick-or-treated together, joined Brownies and Cub Scouts. Susan and her children were in mourning, as well.

  But time passed. An attractive professional and widower in his thirties, Jerry had been invited to numerous parties as the extra man and introduced to many potential mates, but no one had caught his eye until Susan and Jed introduced him to Kathleen, a young state police officer who had come to town to help solve a murder. Less than a year later they were married. Kathleen quit her job and they started a family. Two children later, Kathleen and Jerry seemed to be among the happiest couples Susan and Jed knew. And, more importantly, Susan claimed Kathleen among her best friends. She was having a difficult time accepting the thought that there were serious marital problems in Kathleen’s life and that she hadn’t known about them.

  “Has Jerry talked more about June or the girls recently?” Susan asked.

  “You mean since he’s seemed depressed?”

  “Exactly.”

  “No. Not that I’ve noticed. But you know what’s beginning to worry me?”

  “No, what?”

  “I’m beginning to act differently… and think differently about him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know those annoying little habits that husbands have?”

  “Like leaving socks on the bathroom floor even though there’s a hamper less than a foot away? Or putting dirty glasses into the sink instead of bothering to open the door of the dishwasher and plopping them inside?”

  “For me it’s the toothpaste tube problem.”

  “What toothpaste tube problem?”

  “Jerry leaves the top off. Always. And when I pick it up and put it back on, there’s a little drip of toothpaste on the sink that I have to wipe up. It’s silly but it drives me nuts.”