All Summer Long

by Dorothea Benton Frank

  “Right,” she said and smiled.

  Although he did wipe down his seat-belt buckle, his reclining button, and his entire tray table with a Purell wipe. So did she.

  “I saw something on television—Channel Seven, I think—that said this was a good idea.”

  “I believe you,” Olivia said. “It can’t hurt.”

  “I’m telling you, this is where germs are. When is the last time I got a cold or the flu? Tell me that.”

  “It’s been a very long time,” she said, smirking as discreetly as one could when confined to what seemed like a tuna can, seated next to the smirkee.

  “And this is why,” he said, holding up a wipe like Exhibit A. “Are you smirking at me?”

  “Please! I would never! I think you’re precious. That’s all.”

  They landed in Charleston, retrieved their luggage, picked up the car keys from Ed at National, got in a brand-new white Ford Escape, and exited the airport. The day was very warm, and if you stood in direct sun for even a short period of time you would definitely get sunburned.

  “It’s hot,” Nick said.

  “Yes. I’ll tell you what,” Olivia said, blasting the air conditioner. “Flying on JetBlue between New York and Charleston is a breeze. I mean, I think it’s as good as a commercial flight can be.”

  “Hmmm.” Nick was quiet for a moment. “I’m listening to you, agreeing, and then my conscience gives me a kick in the head for even knowing the difference between what it’s like to fly commercial versus private. Furthermore, my conscience thinks we sound obnoxious, especially when there are people starving in the world.”

  “Oh, God! Oh, God! You can’t be serious!”

  “I’m dead serious. What about Darfur? The Lost Boys?”

  “Oh my God, Nick! Suddenly, you’re like who? Francis of Assisi? I’m not complaining about flying on a commercial airline. And flying private is not how I would spend my money. I fly private for business and only on occasion. When I do, and you come, you are the beneficiary of that as well!”

  They were waiting to merge onto I-526 East to take them to the islands. Traffic was heavy.

  “Boy! You’re in some mood today! What’s the matter?”

  “Where in the world did all these cars come from? Well, herein lies the problem. It’s just way too easy to step into Bob and Maritza’s life and think of it as our life, that’s all.”

  “It’s true. Maritza never goes to TripAdvisor to shop for bargain fares like we do.”

  “That’s right. I just think we’re awfully lucky . . . no, extremely lucky to have such fabulous vacations as someone’s guest, and we should be grateful, not guilty.”

  “My mother was a Catholic.”

  “Oh, please. You’re the one who ordered the extra hollandaise!”

  “Oh, remind me of my wretched excess.”

  “I’m only teasing. Do you want to grab lunch at the Long Island Café?”

  “I think they’ll be closed by the time we get there. We could get burgers at Dunleavy’s.”

  “Burgers it is.”

  They rode around the block three times before finding a parking spot.

  “The traffic on this island is getting ridiculous!” Nick said.

  “No argument from me!” she said.

  After a lunch of superb hamburgers with cheese, sautéed onions, and bacon and on the way to their new/old house, Nick said, “So, are we going to have our first dinner in our new home tonight?”

  “Well, sure!” Olivia started to laugh. “Except, no dishes or pots and pans. Remember?”

  “Right. And the movers are coming when?”

  “Tomorrow. Before ten.”

  “Well, good! So, I say let’s put our things away and see what we can do to get ready for them.”

  “I’m sure the house is covered in dust. But Jason and his crew are supposed to be there wiping down every surface. We’ll see.”

  “And maybe, at some point, we can have a nice walk on the beach?”

  “You bet.”

  They turned into their driveway, stopped the car, and got out. The portable john was gone. The Dumpsters were gone. Holding their carry-on bags, they stood in the yard and looked up at the enormous white elephant they were about to call home.

  “Sure is big,” Nick said.

  “It will shrink. Watch.” What have I done? Olivia thought.

  When the movers arrived, Olivia was ready for them. She directed the men with a roughly sketched floor plan of where she wanted furniture placed. By noon, it was starting to come together. Sort of. To Olivia it seemed sparse, without her familiar belongings.

  Maybe they won’t make the minimums at auction and we’ll get our things back! she thought.

  “Did you say something?” Nick said, hearing her thoughts in the ethers.

  “No. But I was just thinking that this place looks bare.”

  “Well, let’s get everything all unpacked and then we can see what we have.”

  “I’m pretty sure it’s going to look really naked, but big bowls of flowers and plants in all the rooms will help.”

  “I’d like to see you really naked,” he said and wiggled his eyebrows at her.

  “Oh, Nick. You’re such a teenage boy. You know, babe, this house is a lot bigger than our apartment was. We don’t have nearly enough accessories to make this place look like home.” And I can’t afford to buy a doormat yet, she thought.

  “Maybe I’ll take up painting again and cover the walls with marsh scenes and egrets and magnolias.”

  What? Olivia thought and said tentatively, “Maybe. I didn’t know you could paint!”

  “Didn’t I ever entice you with my etchings back in the day?”

  “No, darling. Not me. That must’ve been some other googly-eyed girl.”

  “Oh. Sorry, dear. You know, there were legions of women before you. I practically had to beat them off with my umbrella!”

  “I’m sure,” Olivia said, and laughed.

  Roni rolled in around one in the afternoon. Olivia went to the front door to greet her.

  “You’re here safe and sound! How was the drive?”

  “Epic,” Roni said. “I spent the night in Virginia Beach last night.”

  “You know, that’s where Edgar Cayce spent the last part of his life. The Sleeping Prophet?”

  Roni stepped over the threshold and into the foyer. Then she turned and saw the view of the water and Charleston harbor.

  “Never heard of him. Holy cow. Well, now I know why you bought this place. This view is a killer.”

  “Thanks. I know. The house, however, is a bit of a disaster.”

  “Really? Well, at some point, you’ll get it all fixed. It’s a pretty big house.”

  “Not really. It’s deceiving because it’s elevated. You have to deal with floodplain FEMA maps down here.”

  “Right. So, after you survive this audit, you can renovate bit by bit.”

  “What audit?”

  “The State of New York and the IRS would like to have a word with you,” Roni said, reaching into her tote bag and pulling out two very serious-looking envelopes.

  Olivia felt the blood drain from her face and thought she might faint.

  “Oh, great. This is just what I need.”

  Chapter 7

  Olé!

  A mountainous range of boxes were piled up in the kitchen all the way to the ceiling. Olivia sighed.

  Roni said, “I got this.”

  Unpacking and organizing Nick and Olivia’s kitchen consumed the remainder of the afternoon and would take at least one more day to complete. To Olivia’s way of thinking, setting up the kitchen was the most heinous part of moving because the kitchen just wasn’t a part of her soul. Olivia was good at laying out a space, but Roni was a natural at organizing anything. Olivia was whirling from room to room, adjusting the distance between chairs and sofas, collecting boxes and packing paper to discard. The number of boxes was overwhelming.

  “So, I started to tell you
that Maritza called,” Roni said to Olivia.

  “Why didn’t she call me? She has my cell,” Olivia said.

  “She said that she tried, but she couldn’t get though. So did I, by the way.”

  “That would explain why my cell phone hasn’t rung since I got here. This could be a major problem.”

  “No kidding. You might have to put a booster on your router, whatever that means.”

  “I’ll get right on that,” Olivia said, thinking, If cell phone reception is a problem for us, other people must have the same problem. I’ll ask the neighbors who to call.

  “Right. Anyway, two big things. One, she’s looking at a possible house to buy on Nantucket, a big old monster. She wants to know if you’ll fly up to meet her next week. You’ll fly to Newark or LaGuardia and their plane will take you to Nantucket. It’s just a consultation fee, though.”

  If she was hired to do the job, the consultation fee was deducted from her other additional charges. It was something she had to do or clients thought they could do the job on their own after watching the Property Brothers a couple of times. They would download software and give a plan to a construction company and act as their own general contractor.

  “Well, I think, hell yes! I’m repacking as I’m unpacking!” Olivia said, thinking, Yes, thank you, this could save my life for a while.

  Olivia was still reeling from the news about the audit, reeling to the point that she had yet to open the envelopes and read the letters. Most likely, she’d give them a glance and hand them back to Roni to send to their accountant and lawyer.

  “And two, she wants to know if you and Nick want to go to Spain over the Fourth of July and sail around the Balearic Islands. Bob’s son is getting married on board the yacht.”

  “How could we say no to that? A family wedding? Of course we’ll be there.”

  “Anyway, you need to call her. She’s hysterical.”

  “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “Colette, Bob’s ex-wife, Daniel’s mother, is going to be on the yacht as well.”

  “No! Oh, dear. Colette can be difficult. And Maritza didn’t take the news well?”

  “Are you serious? I got such an earful! Bob said to her something like how can we not invite her? She’s his mother? Even so, I don’t know if I could deal . . .”

  “The only thing they have in common is that they call each other that bitch.”

  “Well,” Roni said, “given the facts, who could blame them?”

  “True,” Olivia said. “I’m going back to work on the closets. And I’m going to throw in a load of wash.”

  Jason, true to his word, had installed the washer and dryer. She stood before the shiny new appliances, her left arm clamped around a load of bath towels on her hip, completely mystified by the numerous control knobs and LCD display.

  Now, how does this thing work? There’s no coin slot, she thought. “Roni?”

  “Coming!”

  After Roni showed her how to get the washer going, she returned to the kitchen and Olivia made her way back to the bedroom closets, passing Nick in the room that would be his study. He was sitting on the floor; there was a lot of muttering and frustration coming from his direction. He was attempting to hook up the stereo and trying to ensure their computers could respond to their shared printer. For the moment, a shared printer was the most economical decision. Then there was the matter of the stereo, the fax machine, and their landlines, which had to be made to work. The wires looped around his arms and stretched across the floor would surely give him nightmares about being strangled by spaghetti.

  “Maybe you should help Roni,” Olivia said. “After all, you’re the cook.”

  “I think you might be right,” Nick said, looking very relieved. He got up from the floor, ran his hand through his hair, and wiped the dust from his khaki trousers. “I’ll just wash my hands.”

  “Yes, you don’t need to bother yourself with this technical nonsense. It’s not the best use of your time. I’ll ask Jason to help with the television and all this other stuff. Those young guys could rewire a whole house in their sleep.”

  “Well, aren’t they smart? Let them!”

  He didn’t exactly stomp off to the bathroom because Nick was not the kind of man who stomped off to anywhere. But Olivia knew by his exasperated expression that if not in the physical sense, mentally he was stomping off. And although he didn’t say “the young upstarts,” she could practically hear him thinking it.

  By five o’clock that afternoon, everyone needed a break. The heat of the day was broken and the sun had traveled to the western sky, throwing off vibrant flashes of rose and purple. The sunset would be beautiful.

  Roni and Nick appeared at her side with glasses of iced water.

  “Why, thanks!” Olivia said, helping herself. She had just finished unpacking the third wardrobe box of their clothes and shoes and hanging them in the closet. “I might sound like Joan Crawford from Mommie Dearest, but I’m so glad I went to Bed Bath & Beyond yesterday. I hate wire hangers.”

  “Me too,” Roni said. “The closet looks so much nicer when clothes are sorted by color and hung in one direction on the same kind of hangers.”

  “But we’re a bit anal,” Olivia said. “I got Joy’s hangers.”

  “I have her mop too,” Roni said. “Nick, your stuff looks brand new!”

  “We know my closet won’t stay like this for long,” Nick said. “I mean, let’s face it. Right?”

  “It’s okay, baby boy,” Olivia said. “You have other redeeming qualities.”

  “You know what?” Nick said. “Olivia and I have yet to put one foot on the beach. It’s low tide now. So why don’t we all take a ten-minute walk to stretch our dogs?”

  Olivia drained her glass and considered the idea. It was a beautiful time of day, the sun not nearly as vicious as it had been when she ran out to pick up sandwiches for their lunch. But she definitely wasn’t wearing the right outfit for the beach. She’d have to roll up the legs of her pants or put on a pair of Bermuda shorts, which she despised but accepted as a necessary evil in her new life. Let’s face it, she thought, the back of my thighs have seen better days.

  “Can we have a wardrobe consultation? Shorts? Sundress?” Olivia said, thinking that at some point she was going to have to cross the threshold of a Talbots and acquiesce in dressing like the natives.

  “I don’t own shorts,” Roni said. “Or flip-flops.”

  “Should I cover my hair with a hat?” Olivia said. “I just had my color done and I feel like it will oxidize in five minutes.”

  “You’re probably right,” Roni said. “The sun is still very intense. What about jewelry?”

  “Let’s put our jewelry in the vault,” Olivia said. “And our wallets. Or I can just lock the house. Should I turn on the alarm?”

  “Olivia! Stop! Ladies? This poor orange is not worthy of your pulverizing squeeze. Let’s simply leave our shoes on the sand dunes, roll up our cuffs, and walk. Hmmm?”

  “Do you think it’s safe?” Roni asked. “To just walk out like that?”

  “Yes,” Nick said. “I do. This is not Mumbai or Jakarta, or some place teeming with drug lords and disenfranchised desperadoes.”

  “He’s probably right,” Roni said.

  Roni and Olivia exchanged skeptical expressions, and finally Olivia said, “Let’s throw caution to the wind. We’re only talking about ten minutes.” She picked up her sunglasses from the side table.

  “Really. What’s the matter with us? Let’s go,” Roni said, taking her sunglasses from her purse. “We sound like old ladies in a Woody Allen movie.”

  “A bit,” Nick said, smiling as he exchanged his regular eyeglasses for his prescription sunglasses. He held the door open for them to pass.

  They stood on the porch for a moment and then descended the steps to the front yard on the ocean side of the house. It took a few moments for them to adapt to the salt and humidity and for their eyes to adjust as well. Nick opened the gate to the b
each and they followed him.

  “Just leave your shoes right here on the sand,” he said. “It’s what everyone does.”

  “And no one steals your shoes?” Roni said.

  “I’ve never heard of a single case of shoe theft,” Nick said, and laughed.

  When they kicked off their sandals, they were surprised by the coolness of the sand. Then they rolled up the cuffs of their pants and began to walk close enough to the last ripple of the waves so that the water just barely washed over their feet. At first the ocean was chilly enough to startle them, but after a few more minutes it seemed warm enough to be a soothing bathtub.

  “Good grief!” Olivia said, walking on ahead. “If this was Southampton, my feet would be purple with hypothermia. This water is perfect!”

  A dozen or so sea gulls were waddling around the water’s edge. The birds scattered into low flight as they approached, only to land twenty or so feet away. Other tiny birds, sandpipers mostly, darted around and continued to peck away at the mud, finding some kind of treat below tiny bubbles in the surface.

  “Would you look at these little birds?” Olivia said.

  “They’re adorable,” Roni said.

  They smiled at each other. It was uplifting to see nature in action, and the warmth of the air and water were so soothing.

  “Look at what we’ve been missing!” Olivia said.

  “Boy, no kidding!” Roni said.

  “I checked this morning and the ocean temperature is around eighty-three degrees. Perfect for a swim,” Nick said. “Did you happen to run across our swimsuits yet?”

  “I surely did,” Olivia said. “They’re already folded away in the chest of drawers, just waiting for us!”

  “Maybe we can take a dip later on,” Roni said. “Mine’s in the car. I didn’t even check into my hotel yet. This is pretty wonderful!”

  “Oh no! You mean, you haven’t had a chance to hang up your toothbrush and we’ve had you working like a dog all day?” Nick said.

  “It’s very sad, the way I’m treated and all that. It’s medieval, in fact.” Roni laughed.

  “Oh, here we go. Where are you staying?” Olivia said.