Island Girls: A Novel

by Nancy Thayer

  Palmer was smiling at her with admiration in his warm dark eyes. “Exactly. You honed in on all sorts of deeply personal peculiarities of Ariadne’s. You work with your heart, not just with your head. You know lots of viewers would drool to see her study, because it’s so personal, and you steered away from that immediately, when Zoey would have pounced.”

  “That doesn’t mean I’m soft,” Arden protested. “I intend to go someplace in the television business. I am just as determined as Zoey—more determined, even.”

  “Are you?” Palmer’s eyes met Arden’s. All at once he wasn’t smiling. He radiated power, intent, and an almost mesmerizing desire. “Then why don’t you come home with me? Now.”

  Arden’s entire body flushed with heat. She couldn’t tell if it was anger or attraction. Talking to Palmer this way, with his piercing dark eyes fixed on her face and no hint of a smile on his lips, made her shiver. “The-the fireworks,” Arden remembered.

  “I’ll give you fireworks.”

  She realized with a kind of thrill that this man could do exactly what he said. He was charismatic, and more than that, he was intelligent, shrewd, and discerning. He had a quality of concentration she’d found in few men. If he aimed that focus on her when they were alone together in bed …

  “Hi, guys, I’m ready!” Zoey bounced up to them, all pert and bubbly.

  At the top of the steps to the porch, Jenny clinked a fork against a glass. “Hey, everyone, it’s time to go down to the beach for the fireworks. There’s always a crowd, so we’re bound to get separated. Find two or three people you want to be with and stick to them. If you don’t want to sit in the sand, carry a lawn chair down, but please return it. And if you need to use the john, do it now.”

  “Oh, goody,” Zoey trilled. “I don’t need a chair, but you might, Arden.”

  “Right,” Arden responded, deadpan. “For my old, aching bones.”

  “Arden.” Tim Robinson appeared at her side, tall, wide-shouldered, muscular, and easy on the eyes. “I’ve got a blanket for us.”

  “Um, thanks.” She tossed him a friendly smile.

  Zoey ignored the hunky Tim. Linking her arm through Palmer’s, she cooed, “You were telling me how you got into the television business. Did you study communications in college?” Silkily, she angled her body toward the gate, tugging Palmer along with her.

  Palmer looked over his shoulder at Arden with a smirk. Arden shook her head at him, but smiled.

  Meg and Liam were in the kitchen, covering any fresh veggies and salsa and stashing them in the fridge before going down to the beach. Meg glanced out the window and saw tall Tim Robinson standing next to Arden. At the far end of the yard, Jenny was laughing with her friends James and Manuel. Arden’s friend Serena was carrying the last bowl of guacamole, and Zoey was flashing all she had at Palmer White.

  “Liam.” She clutched his arm. “Listen. Go out and talk to Jenny. Walk with her down to the beach, okay? Maybe even flirt with her?”

  Liam pushed his glasses up his nose so he could get a clearer view of Meg. “What? Why?”

  “Because she likes Tim Robinson and he’s dating Arden. Jenny shouldn’t be left with two gay guys even if they are her friends and cute.”

  “But I don’t want to date Jenny,” Liam protested.

  “You don’t have to date her,” Meg said. “Just hang out with her.”

  “Then she’ll think I want to date her.”

  “You’re making this way more complicated than it is!” Meg complained.

  Liam crossed his arms over his chest defiantly. “Is that why you invited me down here?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then why?”

  Except for the glasses, Liam could have been carved from a medieval tombstone, with his long aristocratic nose and deep-set blue eyes. “You-you seem”—she struggled to find the right word—“gallant. Well, that’s not why I asked you down here, but that’s why I want you to help Jenny.”

  “First, tell me why you invited me down here.”

  “Liam,” Meg began, helplessly.

  Serena came into the kitchen and set the bowl on the counter. “Time to go.” She was a brisk, no-nonsense real estate lawyer with short hair and long legs. Like Arden, she was obsessed 24/7 with her work; she’d already told Meg that she really didn’t enjoy having fun.

  Meg was grateful for the interruption. “You don’t have to watch the fireworks.”

  “I came down for the damned fireworks, so let’s go,” Serena said, grinning at her own impatience. Her Julia Roberts grin changed her completely.

  In a loose, informal group, the party strolled down to the beach. Police had blocked cars from the main roads leading to the Jetties, and crowds of people thronged eagerly toward the water. Kids in various yards they passed set off firecrackers; flags waved from poles and houses. In the harbor, boats motored close to shore for a better view of the spectacle.

  As they left the pavement and began crunching over the low, sandy dunes, Liam reached out to take Meg’s hand. She pulled her hand away. No, she argued in the silent turmoil of her mind, she was not going to have a fling with a colleague. She was not going to let this child, five years younger than she was and so spectacular he could get anything he wanted, think he could have her, too, just like that—like a toy or a car or a trip to Disneyland. He was brilliant, he was handsome, he was adorable, he should be with a fabulous woman, but she knew what she was, she knew what she looked like, and she knew anything she did with Liam Larson, PhD, would only end in complete and miserable disaster for her.

  She stomped faster through the sand, calling out, “Serena, let me help you with the blanket.”

  Earlier that day, most of the party had gone swimming, but not Meg. She stayed home, cutting up strawberries, melons, and pineapple for a fruit salad, making a platter of tuna fish sandwiches for the group who returned home tanned and as starving as only a swim in the ocean could make you. Truth was, she didn’t want Liam to see her in a bathing suit. Arden was as sleek as an otter, Jenny was curvaceous and slender, Serena was a stick—and Zoey, in her bikini, well, she was temptation personified. Meg could only imagine how she’d compare to those women in her black Speedo, her boobs bobbing along with each step. Uh-uh, no, never.

  She believed someday she’d meet a good man, hopefully a professor, too, who would appreciate her charms, and who would be happy to wrap his arms around her and hold her close. She imagined he would be an older man. Perhaps he might even teach German, like the professor Jo March met and married in Little Women. Meg was not down on herself; she was realistic.

  The fireworks began—stars, chrysanthemums, waterfalls, Catherine wheels, screamers—and the crowd yelled, applauded, and sighed at each one. The faces of those seated around Meg were lit by colored light, as if they were in a spacecraft flashing through the cosmos. The grand finale was an explosion of color and noise. The crowd cheered. Boats in the harbor sounded their horns.

  Suddenly it was over. Everyone gathered up their chairs or blankets and made their way back through the sand toward their homes.

  “I haven’t seen fireworks in years,” Serena said to Meg. “I’m always working on the Fourth of July. I’m always trying to catch up on something.”

  “I’m glad you could watch this,” Meg told her.

  “Me, too. It was sensational. And Arden knows so many fascinating people. You teach at Sudbury College, don’t you?”

  “Yes. It’s a great place.” Out of the corner of her eye, Meg saw, by the light of the streetlamp, Jenny walking close to Liam, gazing up at him with admiration, while Liam told her something Jenny evidently found fascinating.

  So Liam had complied with Meg’s odd request after all.

  Although it seemed more like Jenny was attaching herself to Liam than the other way around. As Meg watched, Jenny tripped, grabbed Liam’s arm to steady herself, and continued to hold on to him.

  “—teach?” Serena was asking.

  “Um, sorry, what?
” Meg wrenched her attention back to the other woman.

  “I was asking what you teach.”

  They were walking up a hill, and their party had fallen into pairs: Arden and Tim, Zoey and Palmer, James and Manuel, Jenny and Liam, Serena and Meg. As they passed other houses, music and the scent of barbequed food drifted out, and from an open window, a baby cried. The night was fully dark now. It was after ten.

  “Mostly freshman composition,” Meg answered. “I’ve had offers at universities, but I think community colleges are at the center of our country’s future. The population is changing. Lots of our citizens are from other countries. They both need and are eager for adult education. Their dream is to create a new life for themselves here. Oftentimes, language is the foundation of their success.” She caught herself. “Damn, way to sound pompous.”

  “Not at all,” Serena said. “I’m impressed.”

  They arrived at the Randall house, all of them sitting on the porch steps or leaning against the railings to empty their shoes of sand.

  “That was fabulous,” James exclaimed. “Never saw better fireworks in my life.”

  “Oh, honey, now you tell me,” Manuel joked.

  Jenny announced, “I like to watch certain DVDs on certain holidays. I’ve got Forrest Gump, and Armageddon, and Master and Commander.”

  “Master and Commander?” Arden hooted. “Isn’t that an English film?”

  “Yeah, but believe me, Russell Crowe rocks that uniform,” James said campily.

  They all filed into the house, heading for the bathroom, the kitchen, the den. Meg stood at the kitchen counter, cutting slices of angel food cake and drizzling fruit and sugary fruit juice over it. Arden made a pot of decaf coffee.

  Jenny had disappeared.

  So had Liam.

  As the rest gathered in the den with their desserts, Meg asked casually, “Where are Liam and Jenny?”

  “They said they wanted to walk into town,” Zoey told her, busy adjusting a pillow behind her back.

  “Ooooh, amor,” Manuel hooted.

  “Okay,” Arden asked. “Which DVD do we all want?”

  Meg settled on the floor, leaning against the couch, an uncomfortable position, which suited her mood.

  “Let me show you a special place,” Jenny said as they left The Juice Bar with cups of ice cream.

  “Is it far?”

  “Just around the corner.”

  She led him toward the water, turned onto Easy Street, and walked to one of the three benches overlooking the small harbor enclosed by Steamboat Wharf and Old North Wharf.

  The last big car ferry had arrived and unloaded. The steamboat lot was quiet for the night. In the cottages, lights glowed golden and music drifted from open windows.

  Water lapped gently against the harbor wall.

  “Nice,” Liam said.

  Jenny nodded, her mouth full of ice cream.

  “Meg said she used to come here every summer as a young girl,” Liam commented. “But when her parents got divorced, she couldn’t come anymore.”

  Jenny sighed a deep, obvious sigh. “Tell me about you,” she suggested. She angled her body toward him. “You’re some kind of genius, right?”

  Liam sniffed. “Hardly. Some kind of geek is more like it.”

  “Meg’s in awe of you.”

  She heard him draw in a deep breath. “Well. Awe is not exactly what I’m going for.”

  Jenny smiled. “Okay.” She ate some ice cream, thinking. “You’re certainly handsome,” Jenny said matter-of-factly. “And the two of you share the same interests. You’re younger than she is, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, but so what? Lots of guys are younger than their girlfriends.” With one deft move, he crushed his empty ice cream cup and tossed it into a trash barrel nearby. “If you only knew how tired I am of people judging me by my age. I never had any real friends in school because I was always younger than they were, plus they thought I was a freak.”

  “Are you? I don’t mean a freak, but a genius?”

  “I have a high IQ,” Liam admitted. “I’ve got a good facility for transposition. But I’m actually just a normal guy.”

  “Who’s had a book published and earned a PhD by twenty-six.”

  “I skipped a lot of grades in school.”

  Jenny sat silently, organizing her thoughts. “Don’t you ever, because you’re so smart, want to, oh, I don’t know, change the world?”

  “By which you mean go into science, cure cancer, or end world hunger?”

  “Yeah, I suppose.”

  “Instead of teaching at a community college and writing books about poets.” He looked at Jenny. “You’re a computer geek, right?”

  “I am. I totally get computers.”

  “Plan to save the world?”

  “Gosh, no. But then I’m not a genius. No, I’m happy enough doing work that helps other people keep their own work going on.” She grinned. “Plus, I like knowing secret codes and stuff that most people don’t know.”

  Liam grinned back. “Yeah, I can see that would be fun. Kind of like I can read Greek.”

  “That’s a profitable skill?”

  “Not everything has to be measured by money.” Liam stood up. “I believe that by teaching at a community college, I am saving the world.” He stretched. “Now I’m sounding philosophical and boring. Let’s go back to the house.”

  Jenny fell into step with him as they walked. “You and Meg …,” she began. “You’re in the same field. Are you ever competitive?”

  “Not really. Professors don’t make much money. Since I have a PhD, I got shot to the top of the ladder. I’m a professor. A full professor, with tenure. I’ll have a lot of input about the future of the department. Meg just has a master’s, and she’s ABD, all but dissertation, for her PhD. She’s published essays, but no books. This book she’s working on, though, just might make her name, might even make her some money. Certainly she could get some paid lecturing gigs out of it.”

  “You’d like it if her book got published?”

  “You bet. First of all, it’s a great thesis and subject. She’s an assistant professor now; this might elevate her to full with tenure. More than that, it would make Meg happy, and more confident. Then she might actually stop being such an insecure little beetle, skittering away whenever I come near her.”

  Jenny let her head fall back as she laughed.

  “Look.” Liam stopped walking. “Talk to her for me, will you?”

  Jenny raised an eyebrow. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Meg’s not going to listen to me.”

  “Yeah, she will. She feels closer to you and Arden than she does to her half brothers.”

  A handsome blonde woman in a stylish lime-green dress came from behind them, almost touching Jenny’s arm as she passed on the sidewalk. “Excuse me,” she murmured, her eyes lingering on Jenny.

  Well, that was weird, Jenny thought.

  Liam was still talking. “She’s told me so, when we’ve talked on the phone over the past month.” He started walking again.

  Jenny skipped a step to catch up with him. She didn’t want to let on how much his words delighted her. “Do you have brothers or sisters?”

  “One of each.” Liam laughed. “My brother’s a marine, and you can imagine what he thinks of me, a literature professor. My sister’s a doctor. If she wants to, she can curse so bad she breaks the china. She’s married to a doctor. They have two daughters.”

  “You’re the baby of the family?”

  “Oh, please, don’t use that word. I’m the youngest.”

  “I’m the youngest, too. Well, not really. I’m the same age as Meg.”

  They reached the house. As they went up the steps, their faces were illuminated by the porch light. “You know what?” Jenny asked. “I think you are amazingly handsome, and yet I don’t feel the slightest sexual interest in you.”

  “Well, thanks for that. My self-worth continues
to soar.”

  He leaned toward Jenny, and for a moment she thought he’d taken her words as a dare and was going to kiss her. Instead, he said, “You’re not attracted to me because you’re in love with Tim Robinson. Surely you know that.”

  Jenny bristled. “Oh, I am so not!”

  Liam chuckled. “Sorry. It’s okay, then, that he and Arden are, um, getting along so well?”

  Jenny followed his gaze through the window into the den, where Arden and Tim sat on the sofa, side by side, with Tim’s arm loosely draped over Arden’s shoulders and her head pressed against his chest.

  “I couldn’t care less,” she told Liam. Opening the door, she entered the house and strolled into the living room, trying to look smug and satisfied. “We went to The Juice Bar.”

  “Shhh,” James hushed her. “Steve Buscemi’s about to sit on the nuclear missile.”

  Tim didn’t look at her. Meg, the third on the sofa, said, “Sit beside me, Jenny. I’ll squash over next to Arden.”

  Liam settled on the floor, leaning against the side of a chair. Jenny wanted to say, casually, “No, thanks, I’m going to bed.” But she liked the crazy movie, and she was not going to act as if she gave a fig that Arden was practically sitting on Tim’s lap.

  “Thanks, Meg.” She squeezed in next to Meg and gave herself over to the movie magic. Armageddon it was.

  The men went wild when the space tractor came over the hill, and everyone cheered when the crew made it back to earth. When Liv Tyler ran into Ben Affleck’s arms, Jenny choked back sobs until she realized Meg, next to her, was weeping openly.