Summer Beach Reads

by Thayer, Nancy

  At breakfast, Cisco balked at joining her and Margaret for the Christmas Stroll. “It’s not that exciting for me, Mom, to see Santa Claus arrive by boat.”

  “Oh!” The guests all lit up. “Santa arrives by boat?”

  Margaret answered fervently. “Yes, and Mrs. Claus is with him! And there are Victorian carolers, and kids get to talk to Santa!”

  Carley stared at Cisco, daring her to not join her little sister when Margaret was so thrilled about the day.

  “Wyatt’s going to walk down with us,” Carley said casually. “He’s going to Hawaii for Christmas, so he wants to get in as much old Nantucket holiday spirit as he can before he leaves.”

  “Yay!” Margaret bounced in her chair. “Maybe he’ll carry me on his shoulders so I can see everything!”

  “Maybe he will,” Carley agreed.

  The guests hurried off to get ready for the day. Carley tidied the kitchen quickly, then raced upstairs to pull on a red wool sweater. She dug out her special holiday earrings, shaped like Christmas ornaments, and while she was admiring herself in the mirror, Cisco sulked into her bedroom.

  “You look pretty.” It sounded like an accusation. Cisco wore a baggy sweatshirt to camouflage her changing body. An adolescent zit blemished her chin. But she’d braided a section of her black hair with festive red and white ribbon.

  “Thank you. You look pretty, too. I like the ribbon.” Carley braced herself. She guessed what was coming.

  “So Wyatt’s going to the Christmas Stroll with us?”

  “That’s right.” Carley sat on the bed and patted a place near her. “Come sit down.”

  “I don’t think so.” Cisco folded her arms over her chest. “Are you going out with him?”

  Carley hesitated. “Yes. Does that bother you?”

  Cisco made a face and dug her foot into the rug. “It makes me feel kind of funny.”

  “He’s been a really good friend to us, Cisco. He’s a nice man.”

  “Do you kiss him?”

  Carley hadn’t been prepared for this level of questioning so soon. She equivocated. “I’d like to. But I won’t kiss him in front of you and Margaret.”

  Cisco narrowed her eyes. “Did you wait till Grandpa and Nana were gone before you started dating him?”

  Well, damn, Carley thought. When you grow up, you can work for the CIA.

  “Cisco, we are only going to the Christmas Stroll together. In the broad daylight. You weren’t upset when we all went sailing with him this summer. What’s the problem?”

  “Nothing.” Sullenly, Cisco left the room.

  Wyatt arrived, wearing his bomber jacket and a Santa Claus cap that made Margaret squeal with delight. Margaret was a picture-book child in a red velvet coat and hat her grandparents had given her. The day was perfect, cold but not uncomfortably so; the sky was blue and for once the wind behaved itself.

  “Cisco,” Carley called up the stairs. “We’re leaving.” She bit her lip, praying, please don’t make an ugly scene.

  Cisco came lumping down the stairs, expressionless. “I’m ready.”

  “Hello, Cisco,” Wyatt said.

  To Carley’s relief, Cisco offered him a lukewarm smile. “Hi. Nice hat.”

  They walked into town and joined the crowds thronging down to the wharf where Santa and his crew would arrive. The air shimmered with excitement. Elves, angels, wise men, and sheep adorned the windows of the shops lining the cobblestone streets. Carolers in Victorian dress sang out all the holiday classics. People wore red coats and green scarves, opera capes and top hats dug out of the attic, hats shaped like reindeer antlers or snowmen or Christmas trees. Laughter rang out like bells.

  “Hello!” someone yelled.

  Carley looked over to see Lexi, Tris, and Jewel weaving their way through the crush. Oh, good, she thought, Cisco will cheer up.

  “Carley!” another voice called out, and here came Maud. She held Spenser’s hand. Percy rode on Toby’s shoulders.

  Wyatt hefted Margaret up onto his shoulders so that Margaret and Percy could give each other a high five. Maud hugged Carley and whispered in her ear, “Well, well.”

  Wyatt’s presence with her family at this event was better than taking out a full-page ad in the newspaper: Wyatt Anderson and Carley Winsted are a couple.

  A cry went up. The Coast Guard patrol boat motored up to the dock, bringing Santa and Mrs. Claus and the elves who would all ride up Main Street in a horse-drawn carriage. Carley joined the crowd cheering and applauding. Both her daughters were cheering and clapping, too.

  Christmas Stroll was always magical. Main Street was blocked to traffic so people could stroll down the wide avenue, greeting friends, pausing to hear holiday music spill out of shop windows. Whimsically decorated stores offered mulled cider and cookies, Joe Zito and his enormous puppet Grunge sent the girls into giggling fits, and Margaret got to ride the Dreamland Train in the library garden, while everyone waved. So much excitement, such a surge, so much to see and taste and buy! She had to admit to herself that the richness was deepened by Wyatt’s presence.

  In the evening, Wyatt brought Carley and her girls home and with a grin and a wave left to catch up on work at the office. Carley served her daughters an easy meal of homemade pot pies and apples. Exhausted by their day, both girls curled up on the sofa to read. Carley stood in the doorway for a moment, just soaking in the satisfaction of seeing her daughters safe, quiet, and together—they lay with their bare feet touching, like a pair of bear cubs in their cave.

  The B&B guests were all out at dinner and a concert. Wyatt was coming by later. Carley went into her office and listened one more time to the message Vanessa had left.

  “You’d better call me, Ms. Sneaky Pete. Or I’ll sic Beth Boxer on you. She’s already called me three times today!”

  Carley put her feet up on her desk and settled in as she called Vanessa.

  “Carley! How could you not tell me about you and Wyatt? I had to hear it from Beth Boxer!”

  “Vanessa, slow down. We only took the kids to the Christmas Stroll.”

  “Oh, so you’re not romantically involved? You were just going along together as friends?”

  Carley chuckled. This was delicious. “Well …” She confessed. That she and Wyatt were in love, but taking things slow, with the girls and Gus’s parents in mind. That yes, she’d gone to bed with him, and it had been bliss beyond words. Vanessa shrieked like a teenager. Carley purred.

  “Marriage?” Vanessa asked.

  “Don’t get excited. It’s too early for that.” She changed the subject. “How are you?”

  “You know, I feel generous these days, with my own nice baby kicking away inside. I don’t really miss Toby. The terrible truth? I’m having a ball fixing the house the way I like it. Setting my own schedule, not always waiting hand and foot on him like someone from the eighteenth century.”

  Carley said teasingly, “Well, honey, enjoy it, because in about two months you’ll be waiting hand and foot on someone else.”

  Vanessa’s laugh was full and smug. “Bring it on.”

  39

  • • • • •

  It was almost eleven before Wyatt arrived, looking rumpled and weary. She led him into the den where he threw himself down on the sofa, kicked off his boots, and moaned, “Just cover me with a blanket, I’m done.”

  “Have you eaten?” she asked.

  “Eggnog and gingerbread during the Stroll.”

  “I’ll bring you something a little more substantial.” She handed him the remote control. She knew how helpful TV could be for relaxing, changing moods. She heated a homemade chicken pot pie in the microwave. It was full of white and dark meat, onions, carrots, celery, peas, and gravy, and the pastry was flaky and rich with butter. She set it on a tray with a beer and carried it to him.

  “What smells so good?” Wyatt sat up straight, looking with amazement at the food. “Where did you get all this?”

  “I made it, silly. We had it for dinner. I
just happened to have one left over in case you were hungry.”

  “Man, this is just what I need. Real food.” He tucked in, eating like a starving man, not stopping to talk or watch TV.

  She sat curled up in a chair across from him, surprised at how she enjoyed the sight of this big man assuaging his hunger with her food.

  When he’d finished, he said, “Damn, that was good, Carley. I didn’t even make a pot of coffee this evening at the office. Russell left things in a hell of a mess. Don’t mention this to anyone, please. I’m sure after he’s had some time off in Guatemala he’ll be back to his old self. Still, I admit I’m a little concerned. He left some tax matters unfinished. Not like him at all. I’m going to have to scramble to get the year-end work completed before I leave for Hawaii.” He looked at her almost shyly. “Did your girls enjoy the Stroll?”

  “They loved it. It was extra-special because you were with us, Wyatt. Margaret was over the moon because you rode her on your shoulders.” She’d put a few fresh carrots on his plate, and he’d left one, so she reached over, took it, and chewed on it. Such an easy, intimate thing to do.

  “Carley, I’d like to give your girls Christmas presents.”

  She sensed how careful he was being with her, not to rush her. She was grateful. “That’s nice, Wyatt.”

  “What would they like?”

  “Books. They’re crazy readers. I could give you a list.”

  “That would be great. Want to have our little Christmas before I leave?”

  “Oh.” She thought for a moment. “The twenty-first?” She hadn’t bought him a present yet, but there was still time. “Yes, why not?”

  “Good.” He stretched and yawned. “Want to have a little Christmas right now?”

  For a moment she was puzzled. Then she got it. The girls were asleep, and all her energies strained to be with this man. She held out her hand. “Yes, please,” she said. They left the den and went, hand in hand, up the stairs to the bedroom.

  The morning of December twenty-first, the first sight Carley saw when she woke was beads of snow, like pearls from a broken necklace, spinning past her window. The window itself was shuddering from the impact of the wind. Before she’d raised her head off the pillow, she knew what the day would bring.

  A blizzard. A blizzard with gale-force wind was on its way. For anyone on Nantucket, that meant: if you have to be somewhere else in the next two days, get off the island ASAP. Soon all the planes and boats would be canceled. Nothing could cross the Sound in a gale force wind.

  Wyatt phoned while she was fixing breakfast.

  “Carley, I’m going to have to leave this morning. I’m going to fly to Hyannis while the planes are still going, take the bus up to Boston, and spent the day there so I can make my plane to Hawaii tomorrow morning.”

  “Are you sure the planes are still going?”

  “Just checked. The fast ferries are canceled, but the slow boat’s going. But I’d rather be bounced around for fifteen minutes in a plane than two hours on the boat. Look, I’m sorry, I’m going to miss our Christmas party this evening.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Wyatt. We can trade presents when you get back. Just get yourself off the island while you can! Have a fabulous time.” Deep inside her, another, passionate voice called: Don’t go, Wyatt! Stay with us!

  Wyatt was in a rush. “Thanks, Carley. I’d better go pack. Wow, listen to the wind. I’ll call you.”

  Carley clicked off the phone and stood for a moment, shocked at how disappointed she was that she wouldn’t see him tonight.

  40

  • • • • •

  Both girls, at different times, had emotional meltdowns during the Christmas season. They missed their father. They wanted to buy gifts for him, they wanted him to take them ice skating and sledding. Carley cried with them, held them, and said the most consoling words she could. Yet it was not consolation that staunched their weeping, it was, finally, sheer exhaustion. One night Carley slept in Margaret’s bed, curled around her. One night she slept with Cisco, a rare and restless treat—Cisco kicked like a horse in her dreams.

  At her parents’ house over Christmas, most of the time was spent, as always, in a relaxed rambling around, but one afternoon Marilyn and Keith took Cisco and Margaret off to a movie, which allowed Carley time alone with her sister and Sue.

  They made hot chocolate and curled up in the living room. Both women wore jeans and turtlenecks adorned with the Christmas necklaces, bracelets, and earrings Cisco and Margaret had created for them from kits. Sarah held her Yorkshire terrier, k.d., in her lap, and Sue held lang. Both dogs slept deeply—they’d enjoyed plenty of Christmas feasting.

  “Well, kid,” Sarah said to Carley, “how are you, really?”

  Carley hesitated. “Mostly okay, I think. I worry about the girls missing their father. I worry about making decisions without another adult to help me.” Carley stirred her hot chocolate with her finger. Suddenly she couldn’t restrain herself. “Oh, Sarah, Sue, I really need to talk to someone, I think I’m losing my mind!”

  “Why?” Sue asked.

  “I think I’m in love with Wyatt Anderson!”

  Sarah and Sue stared at her.

  “For clarification,” Sue calmly stated, “this is Gus’s best friend?”

  “Yes. I’ve been, um, seeing him. For a while. Since August, actually.” Talking about it made something within her wake up, come alive. “Oh, Sarah, Sue, he is totally magnificent! He’s smart and kind and funny. We have the same sense of humor. We talk for hours …”

  “And sex?” Sarah asked.

  Carley hugged herself. “Sex with Wyatt is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. It is absolutely earth shattering.” She bit her lip. “Am I awful?”

  Sarah asked, “Were you sleeping with Wyatt when Gus was still alive?”

  “No!” Carley sat up straight. “Of course not!”

  “Then why would you even wonder if you’re awful? It’s been over a year, Carley.”

  “Just barely. And it’s complicated.”

  Sarah ordered, “Start from the beginning.”

  Carley told them about the week both her children and her in-laws were gone. The summer. The heat that made everyone want to lie around naked. The sense of loneliness and freedom. Maud telling her she looked like an old farm woman. The dress from Moon Shell Beach. The evening at the Boarding House, and Wyatt walking her home. It was delicious, talking about it, reliving it.

  “All right,” Sarah said calmly when Carley had finished. “Tell us why in the world you think it’s wrong.”

  Carley squirmed. “It’s happening too fast. It’s too intense. It doesn’t seem right for me to feel this way so soon.”

  “Carley.” Sue’s tone was mild, rich with affection and wisdom. “It seems to me that at our age, at your age, we’ve seen enough life to know that if fate offers us a chance of happiness, we should take it. Look,” Sue pressed, leaning forward, “every day at the hospital, Sarah and I see how life can change in a moment. Life is fragile. Love is rare. Why would you deny it?”

  “The girls. I worry about the girls.”

  Sarah spoke slowly, thoughtfully. “I see where you’re coming from. I love Cisco and Margaret as if they were my own. I’d never want to see them hurt. They’re certainly always going to have to live with the loss of their father. But they like Wyatt, right?”

  “They do.”

  “You didn’t mess around with Wyatt while Gus was alive. Wyatt didn’t kill Gus in some deranged frenzy in order to be with you. I think that if you refrained from any public display of affection, any sexy touching or gooey kissing—”

  “—which would freak the girls out if you did it with any man—” Sue interjected.

  “—then they might actually see it as a good thing. They’re already comfortable with Wyatt. Maybe you could just sort of slowly slide into it.”

  “I want to do it right.”

  “Right,” Sue said, “is a difficult concept. Other pe
ople’s definitions of ‘right’ almost kept us from being together.”

  “What are you talking about?” Carley demanded. “I remember when you first met—Mom and Dad loved you from the start.”

  “Not everyone’s as enlightened as your parents.” Sue toyed with the beads on her bracelet before admitting, “My family still isn’t comfortable with the fact that I’m a lesbian. My grandparents haven’t even met Sarah, not after all the years we’ve been together.”

  “Sue, I didn’t realize. I’m sorry.”

  Sarah said, “Carley, remember Freddie Matson?”

  “Who could forget him?” She explained to Sue, “Freddie was the high school quarterback. Handsomest guy in the school. In the town. I was only a kid, but I remember gawking at him as if he were a movie star.”

  “Freddie trapped me outside after the senior prom and told me he didn’t like it that I was playing for the wrong side. He offered to help me out. He tried to ‘show me how a man does it.’ He was sure that one good fuck from him would bring me over to the home team.”

  “Oh, gross! What did you do?”

  “First I tried to joke it off. I argued. I shoved. He was determined and he was drunk and he was rough. I finally kneed him in the balls. My dress was torn. I had to walk home.”

  Carley was stunned. “Sarah! I never knew!”

  “No one did. I didn’t even tell Mom and Dad. I sat outside in the backyard until after midnight so they’d think I was having fun with my friends at the dance.”

  “That’s awful.”

  “It’s not unusual,” Sue said. “I can’t tell you the number of times a guy has said to me, ‘Honey, someone as good-looking as you ought to be able to get a man.’ ”

  Sarah continued, “As if being lesbian is being second-place. Carley, I’ve lost friends because I’m with Sue. I’ve been turned down for jobs.”