“Hang on,” Amelia said. On the other end of the phone he could hear some activity. Then the music faded. “Emma’s here now. With Alicia.”
“She has a friend over?” Perry was heartened.
“Yes. They came home together after camp. Emma asked if she could sleep over.”
Well. Perhaps he’d jumped the gun. Maybe he just needed to give Emma more time to come around. She had been acting withdrawn, but if she had a friend over and was out of that cave of a room of hers, then this was a positive development.
“Can she?” Amelia asked. “I told her I thought it was fine, but maybe it’s too soon for a sleepover. She’s still supposed to be taking it easy.”
“No, no. Let her have Alicia stay over. She could use a change of pace, and Alicia is a quiet kid. It’s not like they’re going to be up all night, partying.” He was feeling so relieved, he laughed when he said it. Alicia was even more of a bookworm than Emma. She was shy, an honors student, and straightlaced. “Do you have popcorn at home?” he asked suddenly.
“Um, I think so. Why?”
“So the girls can watch movies. The doctor said she could have some screen time back now.”
Amelia seemed distracted. “If that’s what they want to do.”
Perry had reached his car and he fumbled for his key. “Oh—here’s a thought! Maybe I can fix the Ping-Pong table in the bonus room, like I’ve been meaning to. The girls can spread out their sleeping bags and camp out in there like old times.” This was an excellent turn of events. Perry and Emma hadn’t played Ping-Pong in years. She’d gotten pretty good, before the net broke. And he was working more. And then it just sort of stopped. Tonight he would change that. Maybe he’d challenge both girls to a tournament.
There was silence on the other end. “Well, sure. You can fix the table, I guess.”
Perry sensed some disagreement with his idea. “Is that too strenuous for her? Now that I think about it, the doctor did say no heavy exercise…”
“No, it’s not that.”
“Then what?”
Amelia paused at the end of the line. “Nothing. It’s sweet. It’s just… she’s older now. So don’t be disappointed if you get the Ping-Pong table all set up and they end up doing something else instead. She’s not ten years old anymore.”
“Okay.” Perry knew darn well Emma wasn’t ten anymore. The fact that she’d drank beer with her uncle on the boat was proof of that. Which is exactly why he wanted to reintroduce some of the more wholesome things she enjoyed. Like Ping-Pong. What did Amelia, or American youth over the age of ten, have against Ping-Pong? You could barely get a turn at the table at their beach clubhouse on any given weekend. Once again, he felt that Amelia was being overly critical. But he wouldn’t say so. Not today. Today was turning out to be good. Emma was home with a friend. And she wanted to have a sleepover. Perry checked the time. If he hurried, he could stop at Dick’s Sporting Goods and get that replacement net on the way home.
* * *
By the time he pulled in his driveway, the late-day sun had shifted to an orangey-pink hue, stretching its fingers over the lake. Perry stood by his car and admired the view. “How lucky we are to live here,” Amelia often said. Perry appreciated the sentiment. But it had nothing to do with luck.
The moment he opened the door, the smell of sautéed garlic met him. He found Amelia in the kitchen, humming over a skillet of pink shrimp. “Hi, honey!” She turned for a quick kiss. “The girls are hungry, so I started dinner. I was worried you wouldn’t make it. Traffic tonight?”
He held up the box he’d picked up at Dick’s Sporting Goods.
“Oh. The net. You stopped for it.”
“I did. Where’s Emma? Maybe she can help me.”
Amelia pointed her wooden spoon toward the stairwell. “They’re upstairs getting ready.”
“Getting ready?”
Amelia poured some white wine into the shrimp, and a cloud of steam rose. Perry’s stomach growled in response. He realized he hadn’t eaten since an early lunch meeting, and he was starving.
“Apparently there’s some kind of camp event tonight. For the staff.”
Perry hadn’t heard anything about it. “On a weekend?”
“Well, I think it’s more of a social thing. You know, the counselors getting together at the clubhouse.”
Perry wasn’t sure what to think about that. He’d hoped the girls would be home. He’d hoped they’d try out the Ping-Pong table and hang out with him and Amelia. It had been a while since Emma had had anyone over, and he rather liked the thought of hearing them giggling down the hall. When was the last time that had happened?
“Do we know what kind of get-together it is?”
Amelia shrugged. “She didn’t really say. But I’m sure it’s fine. It’s just at the clubhouse. And that closes at ten.” She returned her attention to the shrimp sizzling in the pan. “Will you call the girls? Dinner’s ready.”
Dinner was served outside on the patio, but it was not the relaxing summery evening he’d anticipated. Instead, the girls passed their phones back and forth, whispering and laughing over whatever it was they were looking at. Perry knew they didn’t use Facebook—“That,” Emma had informed him once, “is for old people.” He caught Amelia’s eye at the other end of the table. “It’s the perfect night,” he said, meaning the pink sky and the light breeze coming up over the water. But to his dismay it was lost on Emma and Alicia.
“Girls,” Amelia said, finally. “Why don’t we set our phones aside.”
Alicia looked up, embarrassed, and turned hers off. Emma took longer to set hers aside.
“Hey, Mr. Goodwin,” Alicia said, as if noticing Perry for the first time.
He smiled. “Hello, Alicia. How’s your summer going?”
Alicia was excessively talkative, but for once Perry didn’t mind. He liked hearing about camp. After working his way up on the board, to president of the Club, he oversaw the camp program, and it was one of the things he was most proud of. Engaging their community’s kids in a safe educational environment on the lake was the quintessential summer experience!
On and on Alicia went. Perry soaked it all in, hungry for every grain of detail she shared, but he couldn’t help but notice a few looks from Emma. It seemed she was trying to tone Alicia down. “We should probably go get ready,” Emma said, rising suddenly from the table.
“There’s dessert,” Amelia said. “I have blueberry pie from the farm.”
Emma loved the local farm’s blueberry pie. But to his surprise, she declined. “No thanks. We’re going to be late.”
“Hey, honey,” Perry said, hoping to grab her attention before they escaped the table. “I fixed the Ping-Pong table. It’s ready for you!”
Emma blinked. “Oh. Thanks.” Then, “What was wrong with it?”
Perry tried to keep the disappointment from his voice. “The net broke, remember?”
“Right.” She nodded. “Okay, so we’d better get ready for tonight.”
“What exactly is tonight?”
Perry could tell from the look on Emma’s face she thought he was prying.
“Nothing, really. Some of the counselors are hanging out. At the clubhouse,” she added.
Perry kept his sigh to himself. Well, maybe she’d at least play some Ping-Pong there.
“They’re just excited about tonight,” Amelia reassured him once the girls were indoors. “How was work today?”
Perry pushed the shrimp and rice around his plate. It was delicious, but he suddenly didn’t feel as hungry. He didn’t want to get into the halftime show issues. It was the weekend, and he wanted to leave that behind him back on his office desk in New York. “Tell me about your day,” he said, instead.
Perry tried to listen as his wife filled him in on a meeting she’d had, and something else about an upcoming baby shower she needed to purchase a gift for. Instead he watched the endearing thing she did as she spoke. The first time he’d noticed it was on a second or third
date, after they’d seen a particularly bad movie together. After, they’d gone to a hole-in-the-wall diner and ordered chocolate shakes and greasy burgers. He had no recollection of what the story was about, only what she’d done when she began to tell it. Amelia had set her hands on either side of her plate, palms down. Then she took a deep breath and leaned in as if she were about to tell him a secret, a small anticipatory smile playing at the corners of her mouth. Perry found himself mirroring her, leaning in, too. Hanging on to her every word. It had endeared Perry to her the very first time, and it had never failed to since. Now, under the growing dusk and the twinkling lights of the patio, Perry found he had no idea what Amelia was talking about. And gone was that special feeling that he wanted to hear whatever it was she had to say.
Was this what happened when parents were on edge about their child? Or was it the inevitable fading of appreciation for your spouse that came with the passage of time? Perry loved his wife, always had. There was no better match for him. And he was pretty sure she felt the same. But somewhere along the way something had gone missing. And whatever it was, in its place was an ache for its return.
* * *
Later, they cleaned up the kitchen mostly in silence. Despite his full belly, Perry felt the ache. He glanced over at Amelia, and wondered if she felt the same.
“Would you like to go for a walk later?” he asked. She always enjoyed a stroll through their neighborhood on a warm summer night.
Instead she glided out into the living room and turned on the TV. “Maybe later.”
By the time the girls came back downstairs, Amelia was lying on the couch engrossed in a TV show. Something loud and gaudy flickered on the Bravo channel. Something he had zero desire to watch. Perry wiped down the kitchen counters and looked up just as Emma walked in. “Is that what you’re wearing?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them.
Emma’s smile vanished as if he’d taken a whiteboard eraser to it. She looked down at her cutoff shorts and midriff shirt, then back at her father. Only now there was an expression of ire, enhanced by the rim of dark eye makeup she’d applied. Where was this coming from? he wondered. Alicia was dressed in far more modest attire, he noticed. And her eyes had less… black stuff on them. And certainly less ire.
Amelia, who probably couldn’t see what Perry saw from her seat in the living room, called out, “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry,” Perry added quickly. “You look very nice, Em. But isn’t that a bit revealing?” Emma’s slim waist was exposed from the top of her low-rise shorts to just below what he imagined to be her bra line. He winced.
Instead of replying, she stomped off toward the living room. Well, fine. Now it was her mother’s turn to say something. Perry waited for Amelia to chime in. But she didn’t.
“You girls have fun, and check in with me by ten, okay?” she said. Her voice was downright chipper.
Perry trailed Alicia, who trailed Emma out to the living room. Emma leaned down and pecked her mother’s cheek goodbye. She did not come over and offer him one.
As she was heading out the door, he stopped her. “No swimming yet,” Perry reminded. “You haven’t been—”
“Cleared from my concussion,” Emma interjected. “I know, I know.”
Amelia flashed him a look, and Perry held his tongue. He didn’t want to ruin Emma’s night. After all, this was what he and Amelia had wanted, for Emma to be more social. To spend more time with friends and less time hidden behind her books alone in her room. Besides, Emma was a good kid. A great kid. He trusted her.
“Have fun,” he called meekly after them. What else was there to say?
As soon as the door closed, he turned to Amelia. “What was that?”
“What?” She seemed reluctant to drag her eyes from the television.
“Did you see what she was wearing? Since when does she dress like that?”
Amelia shrugged. “It’s not like she’s wearing it to school, and it is a Friday night with friends.”
Friends. Some of whom were boys. Perry knew what effect an outfit like that would’ve had on him at that age. “I don’t think she needs half her torso hanging out just because it’s a Friday night.”
Amelia put her hand to her forehead, as if she had a sudden headache. “Perry. I know it’s hard to watch her grow up, but trust me. It’s not a big deal. You should see what other girls wear every day.”
Perry didn’t care about what other girls wore. He had never liked that argument anyway. Who cared what everyone else did? This was their kid. And it was unlike her, even if it was like everyone else.
Amelia regarded him. “Why don’t you go for that walk? You seem tense. It’s a beautiful night.”
Perry considered this. He didn’t really feel like a walk anymore. “Sure you can’t join me?”
She shook her head. “I’m wiped out.”
“All right.” Upstairs Perry changed out of his work clothes. He tossed his shirt in the dry-cleaning bag and cinched it tight. Tomorrow he’d drop it at the cleaners. He set his camel-colored loafers on the bottom shelf of the walk-in closet, between the saddle-brown and the black ones. He scrutinized the row and straightened one wayward pair of loafers, before standing back to admire it. Satisfied, he flicked off the light and shut the doors. On his way down the hall, he paused in Emma’s doorway. She’d left the light on. Makeup and hair things were strewn across her desk. But there was her book, the one from the library she’d asked him to pick up for her a few days earlier. He walked in and picked it up. It was thick and heavy. A hardcover science fiction novel. He was pleased to see she was already on page 250. So maybe she wasn’t growing away as much as she was simply growing up. He set the book down, hating to leave it open on its back like that (ruins the spine!), but not wanting to be accused of snooping, and headed back downstairs.
“Last call for a walk,” he called from the foyer. He waited.
“Enjoy,” Amelia replied, absently. He gazed around the corner. She was stretched out across the cushions, the bright screen reflecting in her glasses.
“I may go for a drive,” he said, changing his mind.
“Okay.” Amelia did not ask to where or what time he’d be back. Frustrated, Perry grabbed his keys. He’d been looking forward to the weekend. But his daughter did not need him tonight, and apparently neither did his wife. He let himself out into the warm night and closed the door behind him.
When he pulled into the gravel driveway thirty minutes later, Perry turned the headlights off quickly. He didn’t want to wake anyone. The windows of the big house were dark. In the rear of the property, he could see lights on in the cottage. He reached into the backseat for his reusable shopping bag.
Perry made his way down the walkway with his bag and knocked lightly. The barking was instant and voluminous. He jumped back.
Olivia appeared at the door, a look of surprise on her face. “Perry! Come in.”
But Perry could not. Buster blocked the door and thrust his wet nose against Perry’s leg and began his TSA-level sniffing. “I’m sorry,” Olivia said, dragging him back by the collar. “Buster, leave it!”
Perry edged cautiously onto the threshold, clutching the bag close to his chest and wondering at Olivia’s strange command. A guest, unexpected or not, was not an it.
“What a surprise,” she said, releasing the dog. Perry closed his eyes, but only briefly. Buster, having found him unworthy of further inspection, had already turned back toward the living room. Perry winced as he watched the hairy dog clamber up onto the couch.
“Sorry to just show up,” he said, suddenly feeling self-conscious. He didn’t want to intrude. And he really wasn’t sure why he was here. But he’d felt compelled to come.
The house was what he imagined someone like Olivia considered tidy. Books and papers stacked on tables. Toys strewn across the area rug in the living room. The kitchen surfaces teemed with fruits and vegetables he rather thought would be best preserved in the cool confines of t
he refrigerator, but clearly Olivia preferred all of her things to be out and visible. Still, aside from a few dishes he spied by the farmhouse sink, there was no evidence of her falling apart. Which for a fleeting moment he found disappointing. Except for her eyes. When he finally looked into them, they seemed rimmed in sadness.
“Luci is sleeping,” she said, glancing toward the stairs. “Otherwise, she’d have loved to see you.”
Of course she was sleeping. It was late, and Perry suddenly felt badly. “I didn’t mean to just drop in,” he began. “But I imagined you had your hands full both here and with Jake at rehab. I figured you may be running low on things.”
He handed her the shopping bag. Olivia set it on the counter and peeked inside. “Bread, milk, eggs.” She reached inside and smiled. “Blue cheese?”
Perry shrugged bashfully. “I remembered you liked it. From the picnic on the boat that day.” At the mention of the boat they both fell silent.
“This is very thoughtful,” she said.
“Well, Amelia and I were worried.” Which wasn’t completely true. Amelia was flat out on the couch back home with her blaring Bravo program, ignorant of her husband’s errand.
Olivia began unpacking the bag. “Well, thank you,” she said. “How’s Emma?”
“Good. She’s out tonight, in fact. With some friends.”
Olivia raised her eyebrows. “That’s wonderful. She must be feeling better.”
Perry wasn’t sure he agreed with “wonderful,” but hearing Olivia’s take on it was reassuring. “It’s good she’s getting back to normal,” he allowed.
Behind her, Olivia’s teakettle began to sing on the stove. She whisked it off and poured the steaming water into a mug. Tea. He had not thought of that! Perry wondered what kind she liked. “Would you like a cup?” she asked.
“Oh no. No thank you. I should go.”
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