Girls of Summer

by Nancy Thayer

  “Oh, so you live in Cambridge.”

  “Yes, well, uh, I always say Boston because some people think Cambridge means I live in England. Cambridge, England.” She wanted to slap her forehead because a man who looked this sophisticated would know that Cambridge, Massachusetts, was just across the river from Boston.

  Ryder laughed. “Yeah, I know. I live in Marblehead. I’m with Ocean Matters, a group working on changes in coastal towns.”

  “Tell me more.”

  “Okay. So, we’re private, and privately funded. We’re concerned with rising seas, water quality, water pollution, coastal erosion, the loss of eelgrass, that sort of thing. We work with the commonwealth and all of the country’s east coast from the top of Maine down to the tip of Florida. It’s all one coastline, after all.”

  “I guess we don’t think of ourselves as being part of the East Coast,” Juliet mused. “But of course we are.”

  “By we, you mean Nantucket?”

  Juliet nodded. How long are you going to be on the island? she wanted to ask.

  Ryder said, “Nantucket’s ecosystem is tied directly to the main coastline. A great white shark has an appetizer near Martha’s Vineyard, an entrée at Chatham, and dessert at Great Point.”

  Juliet grinned. Before she could reply, the captain’s voice came over the loudspeaker. “Ladies and Gentlemen, we’re now arriving at Nantucket. Would all drivers please return to your cars on the lower deck. Everyone else, please use the stairs on the starboard side.”

  Through the window, Juliet could see the lights of the town and the cheerful blink of the stubby Brant Point lighthouse. The ferry slowed and groaned as it turned toward the dock.

  “I’d better get organized,” Ryder said. “It was nice talking to you.”

  “Nice talking with you, too,” Juliet said.

  It didn’t take long for her to close her computer and slide it into her backpack. She pulled on her leather jacket. Ryder Hastings had already headed toward the stairs, and she was glad. He was too everything for her, too old, too posh, too just plain much.

  The ferry butted the dock, bounced, butted again. Chains clanked, men yelled orders as the crew roped the ramp safely to the boat, and passengers filed off one by one. Juliet was several people behind Ryder, so she took her time getting off, letting others go in front of her. She wanted to see who picked Ryder up, who greeted him, perhaps with a hug and a kiss.

  She was pleased to see Ryder walk over to the taxi stand and climb into a Chief’s Cab. It was ten-fifteen, and the streets were dark, but Juliet’s home was only a few blocks away on Fair Street. She walked. She liked walking through the small town. All the shops were closed, but laughter came from the Brotherhood restaurant and a kid on a skateboard whizzed down Centre Street. She smiled. Here the sidewalks were clear and dry. Possibly, just when everyone thought spring was here, a week of tempests would blitz the island. But tonight it was only cold and windy.

  She passed her mother’s shop, turned down Fair Street, nodded hello to the handsome stone Episcopal church, and kept on walking toward her home, where she’d bet her mother was lying in bed with a cup of hot cocoa and a good mystery. She had her own key, but she didn’t want to alarm her mother by just walking in the door, so Juliet dug out her phone.

  “Hi, Mom, hey, you sound out of breath.”

  “Hi, sweetheart. How are you?”

  “Great. I’m on Fair Street. I’ll be home in about a minute.”

  “You what?” Her mother clicked off.

  Odd. No point calling again, she was almost there.

  Juliet put her key in the lock, opened the door, and stepped inside.

  Immediate bliss. Warmth and the perfume of flowers. She called, “I’m home!”

  “Hello, darling, what a surprise!” Lisa wore khakis and a light blue sweater with a swirly scarf. She looked exceptionally pretty, and her cheeks were suspiciously red.

  “Are you okay, Mom?” Juliet walked forward to embrace her mother. “Do you have the flu?”

  Her mother laughed, a little hysterically, Juliet thought.

  “No, dear, I’m fine. I was just…um, you know I’m having work done on the house, and with this wind I thought I heard a, um, loose window, so I called Mack Whitney, you know, Beth’s father, well, he’s the carpenter who’s helping renovate the house—and he came over to help. Otherwise, you know, I’d be worried all night. Come meet him.”

  Her mother took her hand and pulled her into the living room where a handsome man sat on the sofa, looking as if he’d been there for quite a while.

  Mack rose and shook Juliet’s hand. “It’s nice to see you.”

  “Hello, Mr. Whitney,” Juliet said politely. She could feel her mother’s eyes on her, imploring her to be good. “I thought I’d surprise my mother and come home sort of spontaneously.”

  “Well, you achieved that goal,” her mother said with a laugh. “Mack, I think we left your coat in the kitchen.”

  “Right,” he said. “Right.” He strode into the kitchen, came back, slipping his arms into his coat as he walked. “So, Lisa,” he said, “I think those shutters are fastened now. They won’t slap against the house like they were doing.”

  “Thanks, Mack. I’ll see you and the guys tomorrow morning.”

  Juliet kept her eyes on her mother as Lisa walked Mack to the front door. When it was shut, she waited a few beats, and then said, “You said you had trouble with a window and he said you had trouble with shutters. So which is it? Or are you sleeping with him?”

  Lisa hesitated. She walked into the living room and sat down, patting the chair across from her. She didn’t speak until Juliet dumped her backpack and sat down.

  “Mack is the general contractor here. We’ve become good friends.” Lisa blushed crimson. “Actually, it’s true, we’re dating, seeing each other, whatever it’s called now.”

  “But, Mom, I’m pretty sure you’re older than he is.”

  “I am older than he is. By ten years.”

  “Oh, Mom!” Juliet stood up as if to walk out of the room. Instead, she sat back down. “Mom, are you sure this is wise?”

  “Wise?” Lisa smiled. “Why are you worried about that?”

  “Because you’ve got to know he’s going to drop you for someone younger and you’ll get your heart broken and I don’t want you to be hurt.”

  Lisa leaned back in her chair, crossed her arms over her chest, and tightened her lips. “Somehow you’ve managed to be both loving and insulting at the same time. Look, Juliet, all this is really none of your business. You don’t want me checking on who you’re sleeping with. You’ve been out of this house for almost ten years. I don’t break into your apartment at ten o’clock at night, do I?”

  Juliet flushed. “Mommy, are you saying this isn’t my home anymore?”

  “Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous. Sweetheart, this will always be your home.” Lisa walked into the kitchen. “Come on. Let me make you some hot chocolate.”

  Juliet followed her mother into the kitchen. “I’d rather have a glass of wine.”

  Lisa said, “Oh, good. I wasn’t really up for making cocoa.” She settled into a chair and leaned her arms on the kitchen table. “The red wine is already open. There, on the counter.”

  “Would you like a glass?” Juliet asked her mother.

  “No, thanks. I’ve already had some.”

  Juliet poured a glass and sipped the wine.

  Lisa gave Juliet an appraising look. “So, how are you, darling? Why the surprise visit?”

  Juliet cleared her throat. “Work can be…stressful. My boss is leaving for New York, so we’ll all have to get used to some new boss, but that’s not such a big deal. I just wanted, I don’t know, to spend some time at home.”

  “How long are you planning to stay?” Lisa asked.

 
Juliet bridled. “What, is there a time limit now? Because you want to be alone with your boy toy?”

  Lisa smiled gently. “Juliet. Of course not.”

  Juliet sat across from her. For a moment, Juliet noticed the gray streaks in her mother’s hair, and a rush of love swirled through her. When she was in her early teens, Juliet had seen a therapist who had helped her understand that because Juliet couldn’t take her anger out on her shit of an absent father, she took her anger out on her mother. Juliet understood, but that didn’t make her anger disappear.

  “It’s the weekend and I’m done with my work, or I can finish it from here, and I, um, thought I was getting a cold.” Juliet didn’t want to tell her mother that her heart had been broken, but here in her childhood home, with her darling mother looking so concerned, the words spilled out. “Okay, I’m not getting a cold. I’ve been dumped. Brutally.” Tears rose to her eyes.

  “Tell me,” Lisa said.

  “He was my boss. Hugh Jeffers. He’s smart and sophisticated. When he asked me out, I was thrilled. He’s so—superior. He took me to ballets and operas, and he has a piano in his apartment. He wrote a song about me.” At this, Juliet broke into sobs. “I thought he loved me. Then a week ago, he suddenly announced to the entire office that he was moving to New York and a new administrator would take his place. Oh, Mom, he didn’t even tell me in person! He didn’t call me. I had to call him, and he was so cold.”

  Lisa rose from her chair, moved around the table, and bent to hug Juliet tightly. “I’m sorry, Juliet. So sorry.”

  Juliet leaned into her mother’s sympathy and cried until she felt all emptied out. “Thanks, Mom.” She reached across the table for a paper napkin and blew her nose.

  “Honey, use a tissue,” Juliet said. She moved the box of tissues from the small desk area to the table. “A tissue’s softer. That napkin will chafe your skin.”

  Juliet burst out laughing. “Oh, Mom, you’re always such a mom!”

  Lisa returned to her chair. “I guess I am.”

  “Well, thank you.” Juliet wiped her eyes and sat up straight. “Sorry to be so pathetic. I suppose I thought I’d come home and sleep in my own bed and spend the days watching television in my flannel pajamas snuggled in a quilt on the sofa.”

  Lisa smiled. “And I would bring you grilled cheese sandwiches and make a big pot of vegetable soup.”

  “Yeah. That, too.”

  “I can certainly do that, but you might want to watch TV in my room. I bought a wide-screen since you were here last. The downstairs is going to be filled with hammers and saws and music.”

  “I’ll probably keep to my room. I can watch stuff on my computer.”

  “I think we should go to bed. We’ve both had a long day. Sleep is a great healer.”

  Juliet and her mother went through the comforting routines they’d had for years. Double-checking the front and back doors. Turning off all the lights except the small nightlight in the kitchen. Going upstairs to their rooms, calling good night.

  At the door to her bedroom, Lisa turned. “Juliet?”

  Juliet answered, “Yes?”

  “How old was this Hugh Jeffers?”

  Juliet shrugged. “Thirty-six. Maybe thirty-seven.”

  “Right.” Lisa smiled. “Good night, sweetheart.” She went into her room.

  Juliet cocked her head. What did her mother mean?

  As soon as she asked herself the question, she knew the answer. Juliet had fallen for a man ten years older than she was. So was it wrong that her mother fell in love with a man ten years younger than she was?

  Well, Juliet decided, he’d better not break her mother’s heart.

  Lisa had an en suite bathroom but Juliet and Theo shared the bathroom at the top of the stairs. Lord, the arguments Juliet and Theo had had. He was such a guy. Tiny whiskers all over the sink after he shaved. They looked like bugs. Why couldn’t he use a paper towel and leave the sink clean? Not to mention the soggy towels and sweaty sports clothes he left on the floor.

  In high school, when Theo was such a god, so gorgeous, so hunky, with girls swarming around him, Juliet had threatened to take photos of the way he left his bedroom and their bathroom, but Theo only laughed, not worried at all.

  In her old bedroom, Juliet stripped off her city clothes and pulled on a pair of old pajamas she’d left in her chest of drawers. Her bed was neatly made up, her nightstand stacked as usual with a pile of books and a box of tissues. A small high-tech reading light was attached to the post of her bed. She turned off the overhead light and the reading light cast a clear white glow onto her pillow. A little full moon. She crawled in, pulled up the covers, gazed at her familiar walls, and lay thinking about physical attraction, the whims of fate, and if there really was anything like true love.

  six

  Six weeks ago, Theo had ended a spectacular ride at Newport Beach getting slammed by The Wedge to the bottom of the sea. Massive adrenaline rush, but he’d fractured his humerus and yes, he was bored of humorous puns, and he also had a minor concussion. After the X-ray, the doctors assured him he didn’t need surgery, but he’d been in the hospital for a few days, then in a clamshell brace (a clamshell brace, so how could he not think of Nantucket?) for almost a month, and now he wore a sling. The swelling was gone but he still took the oxy. His doctor said to keep taking the oxy and gradually switch out to Tylenol as the pain eased.

  You’re supposed to get away from home, right? Theo had done the best he could to start his own life anew. But the oxycodone that the doctor prescribed for him made him think of Atticus, and Atticus made him think of his home clear across the continent, which made him think of Beth, who he had loved all his life and who never knew it.

  But what a douche he was to be feeling sorry for himself here, when he was still alive, a short walk to the Pacific Ocean, with only a pretty much healed fractured humerus. And Atticus was dead. Had been dead for too many years.

  Theo had been best friends with Atticus ever since they were kids. They walked into the Small Friends preschool, bonded immediately, and kept on like that into middle school. Both were handsome (both knew it, how could they not, with the attention they got from girls), energetic, and smart. Theo was the blond jock. Atticus was the black-haired stormy intellectual with the Heathcliff vibe that made girls crazy for him. They’d been best friends, not really interested in girls.

  In eighth grade, it started to change. They had talked about girls, made dumb crass jokes that they could never say in front of their parents, but slowly they both became more respectful. Partly because of the mandatory life science class, partly because of their own turbulent hormones.

  They noticed Beth Whitney at the same time. Well, they’d known her forever, of course, but they really noticed her the summer after ninth grade when they were all swimming at Surfside. She’d gone from little girl to gorgeous overnight, it seemed. When she peeled off her shirt and ran down to the water in her bikini, Theo said, “Well, damn,” and Atticus said, “Agreed.”

  It wasn’t just teenage lust, it was also that Beth was so nice, and funny, and smart, and well, sunny. They both had classes with her, and their high school was relatively small, so they said hi when they passed in the halls, but one day Theo went to get something out of his locker and he saw Atticus in the hall and Beth standing next to him, looking up at him, smiling.

  Theo and Atticus had always walked home together. By that spring, Beth walked with them. Atticus was always in the middle, and often he and Beth held hands. Theo wondered if this was how it felt to have a broken heart, a searing pain from his collarbone to his guts that burned him even as he smiled and joked with the other two. Maybe it was also raging jealousy. He stopped walking home with them, staying late for a game of basketball or just goofing around, anything to let them have their space. By their junior year, Atticus and Beth were a definite couple. Theo started
seeing other girls. He could pretty much see any girl he wanted, which was vain of him, he knew, but it was also true, and it also sucked because the only girl he wanted was Beth.

  Late on a Saturday morning in the early spring of his senior year, his mother rapped on his bedroom door. “You’ve got a visitor.”

  “Fine,” Theo called, yawning. He was just lying there staring at the ceiling, feeling sorry for himself. “Let him in.”

  The door opened and there was Beth.

  “Hey!” Theo cried, scrambling to sit up in bed. He wore only his boxers to sleep in, so he was naked from his waist up.

  “Sorry to wake you,” Beth said. She was all long blond hair and big green eyes and tight jeans and a loose sweater. “Can we talk for a moment?”

  “Um, sure.”

  Beth perched on the end of his bed. “It’s about Atticus.”

  Of course it was about Atticus, Theo thought. “What about him?”

  “You are his best friend. His closest friend. You’ve been avoiding him lately, and so you probably haven’t noticed, but he’s gotten kind of…depressed.”

  “You think it’s because I’m avoiding him?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, he told me he has these moods sometimes. His parents want him to see a psychiatrist, but of course he won’t. So maybe it’s not you, but I think he might talk more honestly to you.”

  Theo was having trouble simply dealing with the fact that Beth Whitney, in all her beauty, was sitting on the end of his bed. He couldn’t get his, um, mind past that. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Call him up. Hang out with him. Like even tonight. I’m going to a sleepover with friends. It would be the perfect time to see him.”

  Theo brought his knees to his chest, keeping the sheet over them, and folded his arms on his knees. “You really love him, don’t you?”

  Beth turned bright pink. “Sure, I love him, I mean I care for him, but he’s not…not my one true love.” She couldn’t look at Theo. “I mean, he’s so smart and he can be so funny, but he can be hard work at times, and I feel more like his, oh, psychiatric nurse than his girlfriend.” She covered her face with her hands. “That’s an awful thing to say, isn’t it?”