by Nancy Thayer
On the patio, Jeanette asked, “How long are Candace and her daughter staying?”
“I don’t know. We’ve never discussed it.”
“I’ve always gone by the advice that both fish and guests begin to stink after three days.”
Sophie laughed. “Present company excepted.”
Jeanette changed the subject. “This was an amazing day, Sophie. Hristo is an elegant and fascinating man. I can see why you want to spend time with him.”
“He is fascinating, and I enjoy his company. But remember, I met him only because his daughter Desi and Lacey became friends on the beach.”
“I understand, but he seems quite taken with you. I watched him, the way he looked at you. You don’t have to tell me anything, of course, but it seems to me a romance is budding.”
Sophie stared at Jeanette. “Jeanette, you must be one of the most unusual mothers-in-law on the planet.”
Jeanette laughed. “I suppose I see your point of view, but remember, I want Zack to be happy because he’s my son. You’ve been part of my family for sixteen years now. No matter what happens with you and Zack, you will always be family because of Jonah and Lacey. I think my grandchildren will be happier if their mother is happy. Plus, I care for you, Sophie, and you are a young woman with your whole life ahead of you.”
Sophie pondered this as she sipped her wine. By now the sky was dark gray and an occasional raindrop plopped onto the wooden table. “I suppose we should go inside before we get caught in a deluge.”
“That’s fine with me,” Jeanette said. “In fact, I’d really like to stretch my weary old bones in bed and read the mystery I brought along.”
“What a good idea. It’s a perfect night to read a mystery.”
Jeanette said good night to her grandchildren and went upstairs. Sophie, inspired by the weather, settled herself at the piano to play a tempestuous Beethoven piece.
—
Trevor took Candace and the kids to dinner at the Jetties restaurant, where the kids could jump down onto the boardwalk and play on the beach when they were through with their meals. Because storm clouds were gathering and the wind was picking up, they decided to go into town to browse the local bookstores for some special tale to read to the children. Afterward, they stopped in at the Juice Bar for ice-cream cones. The sugar rush gave the children energy to walk along Main Street, listening to the street musicians playing Irish melodies on their fiddles.
The first time Candace reached over and took Trevor’s hand, he actually jumped in surprise. As they walked along the brick sidewalks, he took advantage of other families coming toward him to separate himself from Candace so they could pass by. When they stopped to listen to the street musicians, Candace would hold his hand in both of hers and lean against his shoulder. Oh brother, Trevor thought, what’s going on?
Candace clarified that for him when she giggled and said, “Look. Those people think we’re a family. I bet they wonder whether Leo and Cassidy are our twins.”
Trevor attempted a kind of laugh that came out more like a choking noise, which was a fairly good representation of his feelings. He liked Candace, he admired her, and he knew she was a babe, but he’d never wanted to take her to bed, forget being a family with her. He thought: Help.
Driving back to the guest cottage, Trevor put on an audiobook for the children and kept the volume loud enough to prevent conversation between Candace and him. His mind was working feverishly. He had not invited her here for any romantic reason, but he could understand how Candace would interpret his invitation to have a broader meaning.
Back at the house, no one from Sophie’s crew was downstairs. And it was late, not so late for summertime when everyone could sleep till noon, but late enough that Leo and Cassidy fell into their beds the moment their pajamas were on, not even asking for a story from their new books.
In the hallway, Candace moved close to Trevor. “Everyone is asleep,” she whispered. “What shall we do now?” Her eyes signaled an offer.
“I’ve got to go down and clean up the kitchen,” Trevor said. “It’s an arrangement I made with Sophie when we agreed to share this house. I want to keep my part of our informal contract.”
“Quite the little bossy boots, isn’t she?” Candace responded. She put her hand on Trevor’s shoulder. “I’m going to get ready for bed. Why don’t you come into the family room to say good night to me when you’re through in the kitchen?”
Trevor said, “Uh.” His brain had shut down, overloaded with a screaming mental alarm system.
Candace twinkled her fingers at him. “See you in a minute.”
In the kitchen, Trevor moved slowly, loading the dishwasher, putting away the bread, the peanut butter, the box of Cheerios. He wiped down the counters. He considered mopping the floor but he was too tired—or too something.
When he finished, he stepped outside onto the patio to enjoy the rush of fresh air and wind preceding the oncoming storm. The breeze scattered over the patio, bringing hints of autumn and apple cider, back-to-school and pumpkins. He had only two weeks left on Nantucket, he realized, and the thought struck something like terror into his heart. It was as if the black wall of clouds passing in front of the moon were a dark magic that would obliterate this amazing summer. A sharp grief stabbed Trevor. It was not a grief for what he had lost but for what he might lose.
“Man up, Trevor,” he said aloud in the night and turned to go back into the house.
He found Candace in the family room, curled in an armchair, reading a magazine. She wore that transparent bit of girly nightwear that showed off her lovely body. When she saw Trevor, she stretched and smiled.
“Why don’t you lock the door?” she purred.
Trevor shut the door but didn’t lock it. He pulled up one of the chairs from the card table and turned it around so he could sit on it with his arms folded on top of the back, with the back forming a kind of barrier between himself and Candace.
The symbolism wasn’t lost on her. She tilted her head inquiringly.
“Candace,” Trevor began, “we need to talk.”
In response, she let the magazine fall to the floor and rearranged herself on the armchair, tucking her long legs beneath her. “Oh? Only talk?”
“Listen, I’m afraid I’ve been giving out the wrong signals. I’m glad Leo has Cassidy for a friend—and I’m glad to have you for a friend, too.” He was struggling to find the right words. He didn’t want to insult her.
Candace asked softly, “Friends and nothing more?”
“Right.” He held out his hands, as if displaying an emptiness. “You are a gorgeous woman, Candace, and any man would be lucky to be with you.”
“But you don’t want to be that man.”
“No. I’m sorry.”
“Do you suppose you’re not ready? The time isn’t right? I mean, Tallulah hasn’t been gone very long…”
That would be an easy way out, and for a moment Trevor considered taking it. But no. He wanted to be honest. “It’s not the time, Candace. It’s—” He hesitated.
“Don’t say, ‘It’s not you, it’s me,’ ” Candace said sharply. “It’s pretty obvious you’re in love with that Sophie.”
Trevor huffed in surprise. “I’ve only known her for about six weeks.”
Candace stood up, her body shimmering beneath her nightie. She walked over to the sofa and sat down on it, wrapping a blanket around her, not looking at him. “You’ve been honest with me, Trevor. I suggest you do the same with yourself.”
He felt the chill coming from her, the anger. “Are you mad at me?”
“Are you kidding? Of course I am. No one likes being rejected. I thought we had a real future, the four of us.” Impatiently, she snapped, “Oh, get over it, Trevor; I certainly will. Go away and leave me alone and let me lick my wounds in peace.”
Trevor stood up, then waited, wondering what to say next. “Candace, I’m sorry.”
“Oh, that makes me feel ever so much better.” Her voice w
as bitter.
He could tell she was going to cry. He felt like a weasel. “Candace—”
“Don’t. Shut up. I’m fine. Go away. We’ll leave tomorrow.” She waited until his hand was on the door to the hallway before adding, “And don’t worry, Trevor. I won’t get in the way of our kids’ friendship. I would never do that.”
“Thanks,” Trevor said.
Candace didn’t reply. Trevor went out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Again. Around three in the morning, the notes sounded: DAH-dum-dum-dum.
Sophie slid her feet to the floor and tiptoed down the stairs.
Candace was standing in the living room, looking into the music room where Trevor knelt, speaking in low tones to his son. She was wearing—good grief, what was Candice wearing? Something from Frederick’s of Hollywood? What if she had to go to her daughter in the night?
“Sexy,” Candace whispered.
Sophie realized Candace was being sarcastic as she observed Sophie in her boxer shorts and baggy T-shirt.
Before she could think of a response, Candace murmured, “That poor little boy. Look what you’ve done. You’ve turned him into a freak.”
Sophie blinked. Trevor was lifting his son into his arms. Leo laid his head on his father’s shoulder drowsily. Without responding to Candace, Sophie hurriedly slipped back up the stairs and to her room. She didn’t want Trevor and especially Leo to see the two mommies standing there gawking at him. And she was too appalled by Candace’s words to think of a response. Anyway, the middle of the night was hardly the time to get into a discussion of Leo’s behavior.
—
As she pulled her door closed, she heard Trevor speaking softly to Candace. Only a moment later, Trevor’s steps came up the stairs and turned toward Leo’s bedroom. A door shut. The house was quiet.
Sophie sat on her bed for a moment, letting her rattled heart slow to a normal pace. Was Candace, in any way, right? Had Sophie somehow added to Leo’s obsessive problems by teaching him to play the piano? She didn’t think so. Trevor hadn’t said anything like that.
A tap sounded on Sophie’s bedroom door. Without waiting for a response, Trevor opened the door and let himself in. Before she could speak, Trevor put his fingers to his lips in a signal for silence. Crossing to the empty side of her bed, he pulled back the light summer blanket and quickly got into bed next to Sophie.
Now only the sheet was between them.
Trevor wore only a white T-shirt and his pajamas shorts.
Sophie’s eyes were wide. “What are you doing?”
“We need to talk.”
“It’s the middle of the night. We need to sleep.”
“We will in a minute. I need to say some things. Lie down, turn the other way. It’s easier if you don’t look at me,” Trevor whispered.
Sophie did what he said. Trevor snuggled close to her, wrapping his arm around her waist.
“Trevor,” Sophie whispered, “you need to work on your seduction technique.”
“This isn’t seduction. This is a necessary discussion. An enlightenment.”
“Yes, well, enlightenment is the right word. I feel like I’m in bed with the Great Point lighthouse.”
He was grateful for her good humor and her willingness to accept this spontaneous middle-of-the-night visit. He joked back, “I do have a great point.”
“I hope you enjoy it, because I don’t intend to,” Sophie responded, but not in a cranky way.
“We’ll be quiet,” Trevor promised.
“Trevor, my mother-in-law and my daughter are on the other side of that wall.”
“Sophie, I want to talk. Just talk, about us.”
Sophie flipped over, facing him. “Us? Trevor, there is no us.”
“Okay, that’s true, but maybe there should be.”
Sophie studied his face for a long moment. “Honey, you are undoubtedly one of the handsomest men I’ve ever met. You’re sexy and—” Sophie closed her eyes and swallowed. She started again. “I want to have sex with you, Trevor, but it would be a huge mistake.”
“No, it wouldn’t,” Trevor replied too quickly.
“Trevor, you and I are both in flux right now. Our lives are turned upside down. It’s the wrong time to start a relationship—and before you say anything you regret, for me having sex means starting a relationship.”
Trevor swallowed. “I want a relationship with you. I think we already have a relationship.”
“Please. I’m six years older than you are. I’m a much more serious person than you are. I think you and I have a different definition of relationship.”
Trevor pulled away from Sophie, sat up in bed, and leaned on the headboard. “Okay, it’s probably true, what you’re saying. But I don’t think it matters, the age thing. Plus, I’m not as immature as you think I am. Maybe I’m just kind of funny.”
Sophie grinned and sat up next to him. “You are funny and I like that about you. And oddly enough, even though I’ve known you for such a short period of time, I feel like I can trust you. So I’m going to tell you something I haven’t told many people. I’ve only slept with one man: Zack.”
“Whoa. That’s radical.”
“What can I say? I suppose I’m a freak. But I was all about the piano until I met Zack. How many women have you slept with, Trevor?”
“Um…” Trevor grimaced, trying to think of a way to downplay his life before Tallulah. “A few,” he finally admitted. “But I was always faithful to Tallulah.”
Sophie shifted around to get comfortable. “Tell me about before Tallulah.”
Trevor stared at the ceiling. “I was kind of popular in high school. I dated a lot of girls, but I never was serious with any one of them.”
“By date do you mean had sex with?”
“Yes, well, sometimes. And in college, too. I’m not ashamed of it, Sophie—I had a good time and I never hurt anyone’s feelings.”
Sophie looked over at him. “I doubt that.”
“Okay, then, I never made promises I couldn’t keep. After college, I was busy building my business, and there were a few women I saw, but they were on career tracks, too, and didn’t want to get tied down with a personal life. And then Tallulah came along.” He paused. “Then Leo came along and that changed everything. Come on, Sophie, you have to admit I’m a good father.”
“You are. You’re a great father. I wish I had had a father like you.”
“What was your father like?”
“Distant. Absent. Terribly important. Barely aware that I existed and not particularly excited about it. He was a physician, a scientist, concerned about prostate cancer, and I’m sure he saved thousands of men’s lives. My mother was forever telling me I should be proud of him. But it was like being proud of a shadow, a dark, looming shadow that came and went in the house with no connection to me. He died a few years ago of cancer—not prostate—and I tried to be sorry, but I had spent a lot of time attempting to have a relationship with him and then attempting not to feel like a failure because I couldn’t live up to his expectations.”
“That’s sad. I didn’t have the best father, either, although it wasn’t actually his fault. My mother is on her third husband now. She’s quite an, um, active personality and gets bored easily. When she married my stepfather we moved to Kansas City for a while and I didn’t get to see my dad as much, and then he got remarried and he and his wife moved to Southern California. He died a few years ago, so that’s that. But I think if he’d had the chance, my father would’ve been a good father. He always sent me birthday and Christmas presents and called me a lot and sent me money when I was in college. My mother’s second husband and I don’t keep in touch. I went to my mother’s third wedding, and I suppose I have some stepsiblings somewhere, but they’re all grown up so we’ve never tried to communicate. And Mom, well, she’s all about glamour and travel. Although she was good when Leo was born. She did come help me then and she still sends Leo presents and calls him on the phone and Skypes wi
th him.”
“My mother’s a doctor. Emergency room doctor, busy and stressed. She’s completely dedicated to her work. She’s not very close to Lacey and Jonah because she’s either scheduled at the hospital or exhausted at home.” Sophie turned on her side again to face Trevor. “Geez, where did the traditional family go?”
“Maybe it never existed except on Christmas cards,” Trevor said thoughtfully. “I remember reading a book about settling the West. Pioneer women used to hang their kids in a bag on a nail on the wall to keep them out of the way while they did chores. I mean, they cut holes for the kids’ heads and limbs, but it wasn’t exactly all roses for the children.”
“Or for the mothers, either. No electricity—forget that, not even running water. It’s kind of amazing that human beings have survived as long as we have, especially if you think about disease and germs.”
“Oh, yeah, I was hoping we could have a nice conversation about disease and germs,” Trevor joked. More soberly, he added, “But if you’re a parent, disease and germs are still a big part of your life. I seem to spend one-tenth of my day telling Leo to wash his hands. If he gets an ear infection and I have to take him to the doctor’s office where all the other kids are coughing or throwing up, I want to wrap him in sterile cloth like a mummy so he doesn’t catch anything. It’s pretty terrifying, loving a kid.”
“I know,” Sophie softly agreed. “If my children knew how much I worry about them every single day, they’d think I was crazy. Maybe I am.”
“Jonah is anxious for you,” Trevor told her.
“What?”
“He told me the night we looked at the stars. He’s not a big fan of his father.”
