Summer Beach Reads

by Thayer, Nancy

  Worth was quiet for a few moments. Then he asked, keeping his voice level, “Why are you so intent on claiming Suzette’s baby as your grandchild?”

  “Because Teddy’s claiming the baby as his child. Because Teddy is happier and steadier—not always sober every minute, but steadier—when he’s with Suzette. Because I’ve watched Teddy and Suzette; they are good together. Because I saw Teddy’s face when he held the baby. Because the future matters more than the past. Because I want to choose happiness. Because I want to open up my world.”

  “You’re taking a big risk. You could get disappointed in any number of ways.”

  “Really? Gosh, I never knew the people you love could disappoint you.”

  “Helen, Teddy has always disappointed me. You know that.”

  “And Teddy knows that.”

  “I think Teddy was born hating me.”

  “Oh, Worth, no.”

  “Teddy and I have always had a difficult relationship, you know that. If I say left, Teddy turns right. If I say up, Teddy says down.”

  “We’ve talked about this, Worth. Teddy had to make his own identity as the third child with perfect older siblings.”

  “Yes, yes, I know. He’s the rebel in our family. But you have to admit, he takes his rebelliousness out on me more than on you or Charlotte or Oliver.” When Helen didn’t answer immediately, Worth asked, “Are you still there?”

  “I’m thinking.” After a moment, Helen said, “It’s true. Teddy has always struggled against you. But you have always made it clear that he hasn’t measured up.”

  “But he hasn’t! Helen, you know he’s as intelligent as the others, but he wouldn’t apply himself in school. His grades were terrible. He kept doing stupid damn things that got him kicked off sports teams and suspended from school. And he thought it was all funny.”

  “That’s true,” Helen admitted. “But let’s think about the present. Let’s think about Teddy and Suzette and their baby. This is serious, Worth. Even Teddy wouldn’t claim a baby just to irritate you.”

  “I’m not so sure,” Worth muttered.

  “Teddy loves Suzette. He loves the baby. He’s worked steadily and done well at the antiques shop. Oh, Worth, think about this. Think about how hard you’ve tried all your life to measure up to your father. You’ve tried so hard to be your father you haven’t ever figured out how to be yourself. You need to accept yourself, warts and all, and then you need to accept Teddy and the people he loves as your own. I think that’s what Teddy wants from you.”

  Worth’s next words surprised her. “Will you accept me, warts and all?”

  After a pause, Helen said softly, “I don’t know, Worth. I’ll have to think about it.”

  Helen kept herself busy during the day, helping Charlotte with the garden stand, rocking baby Dawn so Suzette could grab a nap, doing errands, shopping for household necessities like soap and toilet paper, and stocking the pantry and cupboards.

  In her mind she carried on a conversation with her mother-in-law, one just between her and Nona. How did you go on loving Herb after learning about his affair with Ilke? Helen wanted to ask. Helen could understand loving the baby. Babies were helpless, innocent, lovable. The question was, how did Nona—Anne—manage to go on after learning that her husband had slept with another woman? Did she ever trust Herb again?

  It had been wartime. Of course that made an enormous difference. And, Helen thought with a rueful smile, it probably was some help that Herb’s lover was dead. Helen didn’t wish death on Cindy, but it would be nice if the woman would move to another country.

  When Worth phoned that night, he said, “I feel like my entire world has fallen apart. I don’t know who I am. I don’t know where I’ve come from. And I don’t know who the baby—”

  “Her name is Dawn,” Helen reminded him.

  “—Dawn is. I keep wondering how I can accept the baby—Dawn—as my own grandchild.”

  “Perhaps it will help to remember how Nona accepted you.”

  Worth coughed, or choked, or, perhaps, sobbed. “How could she do that? How could she have loved me?”

  “She just did. She always loved you. Worth, think about it. Did you ever feel that she didn’t love you? You know you never once felt that way. If anything, you always thought she loved you more than she loved Grace.”

  “I know. I know.” He sounded hurt and lost and miserable. After a long silence, he said, “I want to accept this baby. But I can’t do it without you.”

  This was what she wanted to hear. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to trust him. “How do I know you won’t have another affair?”

  Worth’s voice was urgent. “Because I won’t. I promise.”

  Helen felt as if she were picking her way carefully through a dark maze of thorns and roses as she spoke her thoughts aloud, coming fresh to her realization. “So we both have to choose. We have to choose faith over doubt and trust over suspicion.”

  “Yes,” Worth said. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

  “We have to choose love over fear,” Helen said.

  “Yes.” Worth’s voice grew stronger. “I can do that. Can you?”

  “I want to do it.” She was surprised at how hope broke open inside her like a radiance, softening her sorrow and anger. Perhaps all along she had been hiding from herself just how much she wanted to remain with her husband. “Yes, I can do it.”

  “Thank God,” Worth said. He cleared his throat. “Look, Helen, I’ve got to take care of some matters at the bank tomorrow. But I’ll come to the island Tuesday, probably afternoon, as soon as I can get away. “All right?”

  “All right,” Helen replied.

  “Helen,” Worth said, and then she heard him draw in a deep breath, and when he spoke again, his voice was clear and strong. “I’m coming back to see you, and my mother, and my granddaughter.”

  “Oh, Worth,” Helen replied, and for a while she couldn’t speak because of the tears that fell. But she held on to the phone, and in the silence she knew that Worth was there, too, connected to her still, connected to her again, through the mysterious elements of air and electricity and the even more mysterious magic of love.

  Twenty-seven

  Charlotte felt like a volcano just below boiling point, or a hurricane picking up speed, and she tried to use the energy her emotions generated to fuel her work. She was working hard in her garden, but for once the good hard physical labor would not calm her buzzing thoughts. Every night she tossed and turned, waking exhausted and cranky. She told Coop she was too busy and tired to see him and stayed until dark in her garden, even though people were beginning to leave the island as the summer slowly drew to an end.

  Perhaps it was anxiety about Nona, Charlotte thought, that was keeping her on edge. Nona didn’t leave her room all week, and when Charlotte slipped in to say hello, she found her grandmother looking especially old and withered and tired.

  Perhaps it was just the heat, as Nona claimed. The late August weather was thick, humid, scorching.

  But no, Charlotte thought, as she automatically filled a basket with plum tomatoes for the garden stand, it was more than the weather. She didn’t feel good about Coop. Things were just too blurry with him. He was irresistible, he was sexy and funny and lovable. But she didn’t trust him, and she didn’t like herself when she was with him. She needed to pay attention to those feelings.

  And she was worried about her parents. It was Monday. Her father had been gone over a week. Her mother said he was in Boston, dealing with yet another crisis at the bank, but always before, every summer, he had spent weekends on the island. He loved his carefree weekends; he always said he needed them. She loved her father so much, but she loved her mother, too, and she loved Teddy, even though she wanted to shake some sense into him—but she’d always felt that way.

  She lugged her baskets of fresh veggies over to the farm stand and set them out. All the lettuce was already gone; she would have to pick more. But first, she had to grab something to
eat. And perhaps take a quick swim to cool off.

  When she entered the kitchen, she found her mother there, tossing an enormous salad.

  “Oh, good,” Helen said. “You can join us for lunch! Look.” She pointed with her wooden spoon. “I’ve made my own version of a Cobb salad, with lobster instead of chicken.”

  “Wonderful.” Charlotte grabbed a drink and followed her mother into the living room, where Suzette reclined on the sofa with her baby in her arms.

  “Lunch,” Helen announced. “I’ll hold Dawn while you eat.”

  “Thanks.” Suzette lifted the infant high. Helen bent to hold her and settled in the corner of the sofa, gazing down.

  Charlotte set Suzette’s plate in her lap. For a while the three women talked lazily about the heat of the day, Dawn’s sleeping patterns, Charlotte’s garden.

  Charlotte ran an appraising eye over Suzette. “You’re looking good, Suzette. How are you feeling?”

  “I’m tired,” Suzette told her, “but also sort of euphoric. High and dizzy and mellow all at the same time.”

  Charlotte’s food lost its taste. She glanced at Helen to see if her mother thought what she thought—that Suzette’s description sounded a bit druggy.

  Suzette caught the change in Charlotte. She put her food down and wriggled on the sofa, facing Helen and Charlotte. “Okay. I think it’s time I told you some things.”

  Charlotte’s mother shook her head. “Don’t feel you have to. You don’t—”

  Charlotte interrupted her mother. “Tell us.”

  Suzette took a deep breath. “Yes, I used to do drugs. Pot and hash and some cocaine. Oh, and alcohol, of course. But I haven’t done drugs for years.”

  “For years? But you’re so young! How old were you went you started?” Helen looked dismayed.

  Suzette lifted her chin defiantly. Speaking carefully, she said, “I was twelve when I started drinking and fourteen when I first smoked pot. But I had a lot of clean months and years. Most of the time I’ve been clean.”

  “Oh, honey.” Tears welled in Helen’s eyes.

  Suzette leaned toward Helen. “I haven’t had a drink for years. I haven’t done drugs for years. Look at Dawn. She’s fine.” She ran her hands through her hair, then began again.

  “My father left home when I was a child, and I have no idea where he is. My mother—drank. She had a hard time raising me, and I was alone in the apartment a lot, and I never had the advantages Teddy had. I could have gone to college—I mean, my grades were good enough—but the year I graduated from high school my mother died, so I had to go to work. I had one really bad year, the year my mom died, and I drank and did drugs, and I was not a pretty sight. But I joined AA, and I got cleaned up, and I stayed clean for three years, and then I met Teddy.”

  “I’m so glad,” Helen said softly, gazing down at the infant in her arms.

  Charlotte asked, “Are you and Teddy married?”

  Suzette cast her eyes down. Quietly, she said, “No.”

  “No?” Helen looked stunned.

  “Look. Let me explain.” Suzette clasped her hands together in her lap and sat up straight, as if she were applying for a job. “I got to know Teddy through AA meetings, so I’ve heard Teddy talk about his family over and over again. Teddy’s problems start right here, with his family.”

  “Oh, please,” Charlotte protested. “We’re not monsters!”

  “I didn’t say you were. I’m just saying that Teddy doesn’t think he can measure up to the rest of you. He thinks you’re all so perfect. Oliver is brilliant, and Charlotte has made such a home in the middle of the family here on Nona’s land, and Teddy’s father and uncle work in the bank, and so do Mandy and Mellie’s husbands, and all those men do everything right.” She glanced at Helen. “Teddy thinks you love Oliver best, and Charlotte, he thinks his father loves you best.”

  Helen shook her head. “That’s not true!”

  “Well, Teddy thinks it’s true, he feels it’s true. And I fell in love with Teddy, but I wasn’t sure I could deal with everything else. With all you Wheelwrights. He is so—what’s the term psychologists use—wrapped up?”

  Charlotte supplied the word. “Enmeshed.”

  “Right. Teddy’s so enmeshed with his family.”

  Helen interrupted, “But that’s what families are all about! Being enmeshed! Being a messy, snarled, confusing cluster of people, people you love the most and hate the most sometimes, too.”

  Suzette said, “Okay. I agree. But it took me a long time to escape from my own snarled cluster. I wasn’t sure I wanted to take on another train wreck.”

  “You see us as a train wreck?” Charlotte demanded.

  “No. I didn’t say that. I’m not explaining this very well. I just know that the circumstances of my family made me into a drunk, and I wasn’t sure I was strong enough to deal with a family as, as—complicated as Teddy made you sound.”

  Charlotte could see how Suzette was struggling, and she wanted to help her somehow, so she said, lightly, “Well, we certainly are a complicated family. And there certainly are a lot of us here in the summer.”

  Suzette flashed Charlotte a grateful smile. “That’s true. So. Before we came here, I told Teddy I didn’t want to marry him, I wouldn’t marry him, until we’d spent some time here at the summer house. I mean, the summer house and all the cousins and the perfect family and everyone knowing everyone else’s secrets—it scared the shit out of me. If you were as—difficult—as Teddy made you sound, well, I wasn’t sure I wanted you all around my child. But because of the baby, Teddy wanted everyone to think we were married.”

  Helen almost whispered, “Is the baby Teddy’s?”

  “Yes. Absolutely.”

  But Charlotte was annoyed. “Let me get this clear. The baby is Teddy’s, but you would have kept her from us if you didn’t like us.”

  Suzette stared steadily back. “That’s my right.”

  “This is terrible.” Helen had gone pale. “To think that Teddy feels so wounded by his own family …”

  “And what did you decide?” Charlotte asked, crossing her arms defensively over her chest. “Are we good enough for you?”

  “Charlotte, please.” Suzette reached out a beseeching hand. “I didn’t say good enough. It’s about my own capabilities, my own fears. And my concerns for Teddy. And Dawn is Teddy’s child,” Suzette confessed, her voice softer now. “She couldn’t possibly be anyone else’s. I don’t know why her hair is so dark. My parents both had dark hair … But look, Teddy was right. Mr. Wheelwright is furious because he thinks Dawn isn’t Teddy’s child.”

  Charlottle turned to her mother, “She’s right. Dad left the island after he saw Dawn, and he hasn’t come back.”

  Helen kept her voice low as she held the baby against her. “It’s true Worth was upset when he saw the baby’s dark hair. And he has been concerned about all of this—the baby’s paternity and whether or not Suzette and Teddy are married. I don’t think that’s so very terrible. These are profoundly serious matters, after all. But Worth has other issues to deal with. I don’t mean the bank. I mean personal matters.”

  Charlotte’s gaze whipped to her mother’s face. “What personal matters?”

  Helen shook her head. “It’s up to Worth to tell you that. All lives have passages of time when—”

  Charlotte interrupted. “Are you and Dad getting divorced?”

  A faint smile crossed Helen’s face. “No. We are not. In fact, your father is coming back tomorrow afternoon. And he’s decided—no, that’s the wrong word. It sounds too cold, too cerebral, and this is a choice Worth is making with love—he has accepted Dawn as his grandchild.”

  “That will mean a lot to Teddy,” Suzette said.

  “And it will mean a lot to Worth,” Helen countered, “when you and Teddy tell him about Dawn.”

  “So, wait,” Charlotte said. “Suzette, you didn’t answer my question. Are you accepting us?”

  “Well, yes, it’s obvious, isn’t it?
That I—like—Teddy’s family.” Suddenly shy, Suzette’s voice fell to a whisper and she flushed pink with emotion. “Nona is wonderful, and you two have been so good to me. And Teddy is happier here than he has been for a long time. I mean, I know he got drunk, but he’s an alcoholic. We both are. We both will be working on this all our lives.”

  “Are you going to marry Teddy?” Helen asked.

  Suzette nodded. “Yes. I told Teddy I will marry him, as soon as he wants.”

  “Here!” Charlotte cried. “Have your wedding here!”

  “At the summer house,” Suzette said. “Yes, we could do that. I think Teddy would like to do that. Although we don’t want to live here, I mean, in the summer house. We’ll find a place on the island, and then we’ll take it one day at a time.”

  “You’re going to stay on the island?” Helen’s face was bright with hope.

  “I think so.” Suzette couldn’t help but smile at Helen’s expression. “Teddy really loves his job. He’s good at it. And he has friends here.”

  “And you like us!” Charlotte teased. “Admit it!”

  Bashfully, Suzette said, “I do.”

  Dawn began to whimper. Suzette stretched out her arms and Helen gently handed over the baby. “You look tired,” she said to Suzette. “We’ll let you rest.”

  Charlotte rose. “I’ve got to get back to work.”

  Helen stood, too. “Can we get you anything, Suzette?”

  “No. I think I’ll just snuggle down here,” Suzette told her.

  Charlotte carried the tray into the kitchen. Her mother followed her. Together they stacked the dishwasher and cleaned up. Charlotte assumed her mother’s thoughts were still bound up in the good news of Dawn’s paternity. But to her surprise, her mother asked, “Would you like me to man the farm stand for a while?”

  Charlotte grinned. “I would love that, Mom.”

  That evening, her friend Katy phoned to remind Charlotte that they had hardly seen each other all summer and to beg for a girls’ night out.

  “That’s exactly what I need!” Charlotte cried.

  She showered and slipped on her most frou-frou summer dress and piles of tinkling bracelets and drove into town to meet Katy. They had drinks and dinner at the Ropewalk, and then strolled around the docks, looking at all the splendid yachts, and allowed themselves to linger in town, listening to the street musicians and gazing at the beautiful people. They talked about their summer dramas—Katy called it “parallel play” like toddlers had. They didn’t solve any problems, but Charlotte went home feeling greatly cheered about life.