“He and I had positions at the same high school on Long Island.”
“A teacher?”
His jaw shifted. “A coach.”
“Does he just vacation in New Hampshire or does he live up here?”
“He’s renovating a house—doing the work himself,” Leila said with pride. “He’ll be living here year-round.”
“How curious.”
Leila strained a smile as Clarence intervened. “Dinner is excellent.”
“Yes, dinner was lovely,” Bonnie’s kinder smile returned.
“Thank you. Would Peter like a little cheesecake?”
Bonnie kissed the boy’s forehead. “No sugar after six, thank you.”
Peter climbed over to his grandpa’s lap, brandishing a Band-Aided boo-boo on his finger.
Bonnie rose from the table. “I’m going to change into my swimsuit. Dad, would you occupy him?”
Clarence bounced the little boy on his knee and stroked his hair. “I’d sure like some of that cheesecake.”
Leila served him a large slab on another mismatched plate.
“Wedgewood. Nice.” Clarence winked.
“It clashes perfectly with everything else in the cabin, don’t you think?”
“Not everyone can pull off tacky with this much style, you know.”
She grinned. “Indeed! I know how to make a real fashion statement.”
While Bonnie and Peter waded in the lake, Leila and Clarence kept conversation light as they cleaned up after dinner, reserving their deep discussion for later when they could savor every morsel in private.
As soon as Bonnie turned in for the night with Peter and his bedtime story, Leila grabbed the bottle of wine, which Clarence had already uncorked, allowing it to breathe. She led him out to the sand under the light of the half-moon. He sat on a lawn chair, and she pulled one right next to him as he poured the Merlot into their happily mismatched goblets. Silently, they watched the distorted reflection of the moon stretch and break apart on the placid water. The bluish light accentuated the gray at Clarence’s temples. Leila swallowed a mouthful.
Over the past month, Leila had been thinking of—obsessing over—what she had surmised about Ian’s past relationships. The number of women had been enough that Ian wouldn’t elaborate on how many he had been with—Leila assumed the worst—but he had divulged that he’d been seduced by an older woman when he turned thirteen. At any rate, he was adamant that he and Leila wait until they were in a committed, marital relationship before consummating their love in bed. She was pleased that Ian placed a high value on her virginity, and under the circumstances, she understood why, but all those other women crowded in, echoing her father’s warnings about men and their ‘nature.’
Now that she had Clarence to herself, she needed to talk and ventured a question without prodding. “Clarence, how much does a person’s past weigh in on a new relationship?”
“That is a big question.” He crossed his ankle over his knee, raising a brow. “Such a subject requires a little more wine.”
He topped off each of their glasses, sipped, swallowed and exhaled, swirling the burgundy liquid in crystal.
Leila waited.
He sipped again. “How much it weighs has much to do with its inherent weight.”
“That sounds redundant and mathematical.”
“In a way it is. Every past has a weight or value, if you will, placed upon it. Long-term consequences weigh more.”
“For instance?”
“Heavies may be things like divorce, death, addiction, pre-existing offspring, financial debt, a prison record.”
“What about abandonment, abuse—promiscuity?”
“Those, too. But with some things, the value is more subjective and fluctuates based on the scale and whose scale it is. And of course, then there are the counterweights—the other party’s baggage.”
“What if one side significantly outweighs the other, I mean, bottoms it out.”
“Hopefully, then, whoever is in control of the scale adjuster is insightful, generous, and forgiving. But remember, the weight values are always shifting. No one is ever in full control all the time.”
She reflected on the truth of his statement.
“Leila, we are the sum total of our past. We can only hope that if someone worthwhile comes along, they will see enough good to make us want to reach beyond our past. To be better than who we are right now. Not everyone is that fortunate. But the ones that can’t forgive, or can’t see potential, risk ending up very lonely. The truth is, before long we all accumulate weight that needs mitigating.”
His clear and succinct evaluation settled her heart as she swallowed the last of her wine and yawned. “I think it would be too weird if we shared the bunk bed. I’ll take the sofa—you’re too tall.”
~
The following morning, Leila roused to the aromas of coffee and bacon and the sound of a wire whisk scraping the inside of a stainless steel bowl.
Bonnie stepped from the bathroom looking as flower-fresh as an advertisement for Midol, a product Leila could have used that early morning as she made a trip to the bathroom, and then collapsed back onto the sofa.
Hovering over Leila in a tight, low-cut halter-top and short shorts, Bonnie said, “Not a morning person?”
Leila massaged her abdomen. “Not this morning.”
“Poor thing. Can I get you some coffee?”
“Sure.”
Bonnie smiled as Leila accepted a cupful, unsure of how to read her sympathy. She gulped coffee, hoping to be showered and dressed in case Ian arrived early.
Breakfast aromas lingered past eleven o’clock when the sound of Ian’s Saab rumbled in the dooryard. Her heart pounded with nerves and excitement. As he entered through the front screen door, Bonnie—poised and cross-legged at the table—immediately sat erect with undisguised pleasure.
Looking at Ian objectively—through the eyes with which Bonnie must have been assessing him—Leila had to admit, he was undeniably handsome. He exuded sensuality. From the just snug-enough fit of his clothes, to the way his hair swept back from his face and held its place, perfectly framing his square jaw. He smiled in his affable way. It was no wonder he attracted women.
Under his arm he carried a large wrapped gift and smiled at Leila.
“Good morning,” he said. “Sorry I’m a little late—trouble with my table saw.”
He approached Clarence with an outstretched hand. “Myles. Good to see you.”
Clarence smiled and gave Ian’s hand a firm shake. The sight of it warmed Leila—perhaps her two favorite men had progressed beyond merely tolerance and would become friends after all.
The little boy hid behind his grandfather’s leg. Ian crouched in front of him.
“This must be Peter.” Without moving toward him, Ian held out the gift. “This is from Leila and me. I think you’re really going to like it.”
Leila had no idea about Ian’s thoughtful plan. She wondered why the notion of a gift hadn’t occurred to her. Peter glanced at his mother, who nodded. He snatched the wrapped package.
Bonnie stood. “What do you say, Peter?”
“Thank you.” The boy grinned, tearing at paper.
Clarence said, “Ian, this is my daughter, Bonnie.”
Ian offered his hand. “It’s a pleasure.”
“Thank you for the gift.” Bonnie’s eyes sparkled.
“Leila and I thought he might like it.”
“It’s a boat!” Peter interrupted. “Does it work?”
“It sure does.” Ian bent on his knee. “We’ll put it in the water later, if you want.”
“Can we, Mommy?”
“Of course!” Bonnie smiled broadly. Her dimples rivaled Leila’s.
“Can we go now?” The boy’s voice quivered with excitement.
“We just have to put our swimsuits on.” Bonnie tousled Peter’s hair.
As Bonnie exited, Ian moved to Leila’s side and grabbed her hand. Giving it a squeeze, h
e kissed her cheek.
Clarence stepped back into the kitchen. “Why don’t the two of you head on down to the water while I work on my marinade.”
“Are you sure?” Leila said.
“Indeed! Now go on.”
Leila and Ian each carried lawn chairs down to the small patch of pebbled sand.
“You okay?” Ian opened the chairs and they sat.
“Bad time of month. Weird circumstances.”
He nodded. “Don’t sweat it. Just sit and relax.”
“Thanks for thinking of the gift. That was really sweet.”
He patted her thigh. “If you weren’t so nerved up about this visit, I’m sure you would have thought of it yourself.”
Leila breathed deep and grinned. “Is it too early to start drinking?”
He squeezed her knee. “Given the company, you might want to wait till at least noon.”
Peter ran down the path with his new boat.
“Slow down, Peter!” his mother called from behind. “You’ll break it before you even get it in the water.”
Ian withdrew his hand and craned his neck to watch the boy. Out of breath, Peter halted in front of Ian and looked at his mother, “What’s his name again?”
“Ian,” she whispered.
“Ian, thank you for the boat.”
Ian leaned forward in his seat. “You’re very welcome.”
Peter glanced back at his mother. With her nod, he bolted to the lake, several yards ahead.
“He’s one cute kid.” Ian extended his legs, clasping his hands behind his head.
“He’s a good boy.” Bonnie sat beside Leila.
“C’mon, Ian!” Peter called out.
Pushing out of his chair, Ian obeyed. He peeled off his shirt, revealing tanned and well-developed pecs. Bonnie let go of a quiet sigh.
The water was shallow for at least twenty feet out, allowing for plenty of room to play speed sailboat versus sea monster. Ian submerged in the knee-high water as Peter bounced the boat off his head. Leila had never seen him with a child before. She smiled at the way he bobbed and swam, playing with the boy. Peter squealed and splashed when Ian roared.
Bonnie inched her chair closer to Leila. “Last night, you mentioned that he’s mutually friends with my dad.”
“That’s right.”
“What is he, about twenty-seven or twenty-eight?”
“Yeah. Twenty-eight.”
Bonnie sighed. “You have no idea how hard it is to find men like him.” She pulled her shirt over her head, revealing her bikini top but mostly flesh. She adjusted the scant fabric as though her breasts needed any enhancement.
Oh good grief. “It doesn’t seem like you’d have any trouble finding a man.”
“You’re so sweet.” She smiled. “Tell me, is he available?”
“Available?”
“Yeah, I mean, he’s not your boyfriend or anything, is he?”
“Actually, he is.”
Bonnie suppressed a giggle. “Well, you can’t be too serious. I mean it’s pretty obvious you’re not sleeping together.”
Leila blinked. “Excuse me?”
“I mean the way the two of you interact—it’s pretty obvious that you’re not lovers. And a man like him—well—why would he do without?”
Leila exhaled irritation. “You’re making an awful lot of assumptions about people you don’t even know.”
“I don’t mean anything by it. I’m just calling it the way I see it.”
“Things are not always as they appear.”
“So, you’re saying you are lovers?”
Leila tried to calm her ire. “I don’t know you well enough to be having this conversation, Bonnie.”
“Don’t be so touchy. I only wanted to know if he’s available.”
“Why don’t you ask him,” Leila shot back as she rose. “If you’ll excuse me—I need to set up the grill.”
As Leila climbed the stairway, Clarence bent, inspecting the propane bottle. She paused beside him.
“How’s it going down there?” he said.
“It’s going ….” Leila stepped into the kitchen and stood at the old chipped sink. Clarence came in behind her. Through the window, Leila watched as Bonnie waded past Ian and dove into the water beyond him. Leila had never felt particularly insecure about her own body until she compared herself to Bonnie who could have modeled for a centerfold.
“What do you think of her?” Clarence asked.
“I think she’s beautiful.”
“That’s not what I mean and you know it.” He grabbed the platter of salmon.
“I’m not sure this is a good time of month for you to be asking me that question.”
“Don’t be dodgy. Just tell me your first impression.”
Leila pushed open the door for him. “She’s a good mother—”
“And?” He set the platter beside the grill.
“She’s presumptuous and full of herself.” She glanced at him. “But then, as I recall, those were my first impressions of you. But that didn’t stop us from becoming friends.”
“True.”
“How is it going with her?”
He lit the grill. “It’s slow going. Very slow, but I’m grateful.”
As Clarence lowered the lid, Leila moved close to him. From their perch they watched Bonnie come up out of the shallow water just in front of kneeling Ian.
Leila now wished she hadn’t left them alone. “From a man’s perspective, what do you suppose Ian thinks of her?”
“I think he’s no fool. The bigger question is, what do you think he thinks of her?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Look at him—” Clarence directed her attention with a nod, “—and his body language.”
Without looking at Bonnie, Ian came to his feet with his arms tightly folded. As she moved in, he backed away.
“Now, tell me you aren’t sure.”
Leila had no doubt. Still, she knew what a weakness Ian had had with women. As she and Clarence set the picnic table, she was constantly aware of the two standing together in the ankle-deep water, while Peter dug in the sand at the lake’s edge. She wished she could have overheard their conversation.
Clarence called out, “Dinner is served.”
Ian took a seat beside Leila on the bench. Bonnie sat opposite Ian, placing Peter in a chair at the end. The chef placed a tidy slab of perfectly grilled salmon on each plate and spooned the sweet and spicy marinade over it. Each one helped themselves to coleslaw with water chestnuts and currants. Sweet corn, still in charred husks, cooled in front of them.
“Oh, my goodness,” Leila said between mouthfuls. “This is amazing.”
Ian agreed.
Peter’s recounting of the sea monster adventures passed the next few minutes before conversation devolved into visual volleying.
“So tell me,” Bonnie looked at Leila and then at her father. “How exactly was it that the two of you became such good friends?”
Leila glanced at Clarence. She then settled on Bonnie. “I’m sure he must have told you.”
“I know you had a student-teacher relationship, but I’m a little vague about the details.”
Clarence wiped his mouth. “Any vagueness on my part was in consideration of Leila’s privacy.”
Bonnie’s lips pressed.
Leila sat erect. “I first met him at the record store where I worked. He was my customer from hell, turned homeroom and math teacher. We just hit it off. What can I say?”
“So, you were his star pupil?”
Leila giggled. “No. I was probably one of his worst.”
“And so he took pity and decided to tutor you.”
“No. Actually, he refused. He said I wasn’t applying myself.”
Bonnie rolled her eyes. “I’ve sure heard that before.”
Leila had no intention of divulging the full scope of their friendship—how a year after her own father died, leaving her a burdensome plan to stay out of foster care, Clarence
had stepped in and been a real father to her. And Leila certainly would not tell how Clarence had petitioned the court and been awarded legal guardianship after Ian’s former lover and phys ed assistant assaulted Leila during a self-defense demonstration. She hadn’t thought of that whole episode in quite some time. It now heated her cheeks. “Anyway, one thing led to another. And here we are.”
“So, it’s been all flowers and blue skies.”
“Oh, we’ve had our ups and downs.” Leila smiled at Clarence.
“I’ll bet. He must have really wigged out when you got together with your coach.” She made it sound so simple and clear-cut.
Leila glanced at Ian. He stopped chewing. Likely, the whole sordid scenario—the assault, accusations, and hearings—flashed through his mind, too. “He had his reservations,” Leila continued, “but I think he’s used to it now.”
“Being used to it is much different than having his blessing,” Bonnie said.
“He gave me his blessing.”
“Oh, how sweet.” Her sarcasm seethed as she turned to her father. “I had no idea you were such a liberal, Dad. Tell me, are you really as tolerant as you’ve led her to believe?”
Clarence drew in a long breath. “Leila has my blessing to choose as she wishes.”
“Yes, but that’s a far cry from blessing their relationship.”
Clarence’s deliberate eyes traveled from Bonnie to Ian and Leila and back. “She and Ian have my blessing.”
“Oh, please. You could no more bless a student-teacher liaison than you could the birth of—”
“The fact of the matter is,” Clarence cut her off, “whether you choose to recognize it or not, given sufficient time and evidence, I am capable of looking at the broader scope of things.”
Bonnie’s glare challenged him.
He continued, “I have had the opportunity to observe Ian Brigham over a period of time and telling circumstances. He has proven himself to be substantial. Leila would be hard-pressed to find another man of his caliber.”
Leila’s eyes welled.
Clarence swallowed. “As for the circumstances surrounding Peter’s birth—of course I would prefer he had a father, in theory. But then, not all fathers are good ones, are they.” He reached for her hand. “How ever Peter came to be does not diminish my love and acceptance of either of you, nor my desire to be part of your lives.”
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