“What do they look like?” asked Todd.
“Like a little boy and a little girl. They’ll be sitting in our chairs. Your Aunt Barb has blond hair.”
“Todd will talk to her,” said Ned. “He loves blondes.”
“Cut it out.” Todd punched Ned’s arm.
“Just be nice,” said Helen.
“We will,” Todd said, giving Ned a shove. As quick and agile as animals in the wild, they bolted around the corner of the cottage, heading for their still-damp suits on the clothesline.
Charles and Daniel walked into the porch “He’s really here?” Charles asked. “In the flesh?”
“I know,” said Helen. “I’m still in shock myself. It’s been thirty years, Charles.”
“You haven’t seen him in thirty years?” asked Daniel.
“It’s been thirty years since he’s been here,” said Helen.
“Why?”
“It’s a long story,” said Helen, hands on hips.
“I’ve got time.”
“He fell in love thirty summers ago,” Helen explained to Daniel, “so much in love that he asked the young woman to marry him. She turned him down, as she should have. Thomas was a month shy of leaving for Princeton, and she was in the middle of earning her college degree here. He had a great first year at college but was unable to disassociate the beach from Anna, so he decided not to come back the following summer. The next three summers, he was offered lucrative internships and jobs in the city. After college, he went to business school, and then worked eighty-hour weeks as an investment banker. When he started his own business, he had even less free time.”
“He never came back?” Daniel asked.
“Not here, no,” said Helen. “When he was still in New York we saw him at my parents’ house on several holidays and at his wedding, of course, and when my father died. But we all haven’t seen him at all since the funeral five years ago.”
“How do you stay connected?” asked Daniel.
“By the telephone,” said Helen. “Thomas and I try to talk every month.”
“I don’t think Charlotte talks to him.”
“With any luck,” said Helen, turning to walk into the living room, “that will change after this weekend.”
“Where is Charlotte?”
“Upstairs taking a nap,” said Helen from the dining room. “She said for me to tell you to join her if you’d like.”
“I’m too keyed up to sleep,” said Daniel, removing his towel from his shoulders and using it on his wet hair. “I’m going for a walk.”
“Pammy left about ten minutes ago. She’s headed for the state park,” said Helen, without thinking. When her brain caught up with her mouth, she said, “There are some really nice trails down by the creek. I can give you quick directions to get there.”
“I’ll try that another time,” said Daniel. “If I hurry, I may be able to catch up with Pammy.”
Daniel walked out the porch door and dropped his damp towel on the lawn. He was running by the time he hit the pavement.
“Somehow,” said Charles, watching Daniel jog barefoot down the street, “I don’t think Charlotte had sleeping in mind.”
Daniel saw Pammy just as she was stepping onto the large boardwalk that stretched from one end of the half mile-long state beach to the other. She was wearing store-bought cutoff jean shorts and a white, button-down shirt that she had tied up at her waist. Daniel came up behind her, gently tapping her bottom. She wheeled around, looking angry, ready to lambaste the offending stranger for touching her, then immediately softened when she saw Daniel. He fell into step beside her and took her hand in his. “You look great today, Pammy.”
“And you,” said Pammy, smiling broadly, “are a troublemaker.”
“How can I get into trouble when I simply enjoy the company of a beautiful woman?” he asked, putting on an innocent look.
“By making comments like that. Besides, too many beautiful women spoil the broth.”
Daniel laughed. He turned his head to look out at the water. “This beach is packed. Where do all of these people come from?”
“From all over the state. It doesn’t get any busier than Fourth of July weekend.”
He turned his face, his attention, back to Pammy. “I’d like to get busy with you.” Daniel squeezed her hand, prompting a smile from her. “What’s up there?” Daniel asked, pointing at the beach grass jutting out of the sand above the boardwalk.
“Walking paths,” Pammy said. “Skinny, sandy walkways that wander in and out of the marshland.”
“Let’s go,” said Daniel, pulling her off the boardwalk and up the steep slope to the top of the dune. They ran down the other side and chose the narrow center path to follow. Daniel led, letting go of Pammy’s hand, and she walked behind him. “I like this,” Daniel said over his shoulder. “It’s much more private.”
Pammy studied him, his body. His back was broad and well-defined with thick bands of muscle. His arms were also muscular, but not huge like those of the professional wrestlers Pammy had seen on television. His waist was trim and slid with ease into his faded plaid bathing suit. He could easily be a model, thought Pammy, for a catalog featuring hip, expensive clothing for young people, a catalog she would toss into her recycling box a minute after she took it from her mailbox. Pammy watched the muscles move in his legs as he walked. The hot sun bored into the back of her neck, momentarily taking Pammy’s attention away from Daniel’s physique. She wished she had worn her straw hat. Daniel stopped and turned to face her. “It’s hot,” said Daniel. “Let’s see if we can find some shade.”
Around the next corner, Pammy saw the beginning of the state park forest in the distance. Daniel grabbed her hand again and pulled her toward it. Faster and faster they walked until they were running. They ran the last fifty yards and then collapsed under the trees. Sweating and breathing hard, they lay on their backs, looking up at the tall trees that blocked the scorching sun. “Wow,” said Daniel, leaning up on one elbow to look down on Pammy. “This feels great. I think I can even feel a slight breeze.”
“Don’t talk,” said Pammy, struggling not to breathe so hard after their short run. “Boy, that feels good.”
The wind, gentle and inviting, swept over Pammy’s legs, arms, and face. She closed her eyes and let it cool her body, relieve her hot skin. Its touch became firm, human, and Pammy opened her eyes, suddenly realizing Daniel was stroking the inside of her thigh. “Daniel?”
“Relax, baby,” Daniel said in a soft, soothing voice. “I’m just giving you a massage, Pammy. There’s nobody here but us. Lie back down.”
Pammy lowered herself to the sand. She closed her eyes and relaxed her muscles. She concentrated only on Daniel’s hand and how he moved it up and down the inside of her leg. She didn’t fight it because she wanted him to touch her. He moved closer to her, their legs and arms now touching, and his hand traveled up her leg, over her crotch, to her stomach and under her shirt. She opened her eyes and turned to him. “Lie back, Pammy,” he whispered.
“I want to touch you.”
“Not yet.”
He moved his hands over her breasts, caressing and squeezing them. Bursts of light exploded in Pammy’s head. Her entire body tingled at his touch. Daniel kissed her mouth while he unbuttoned her shirt. Pammy arched her back upward in response. She wanted him to suck all of her into his mouth. She moaned in pleasure.
Daniel unsnapped her shorts and pulled them off. He slid her panties down to her knees, then kicked them off with his foot. No longer able to wait, Pammy reached over and untied Daniel’s suit. He took it off, allowing her access to his erect penis. It was huge. She ran her hands over it, and then moved them up to his hard chest, the skin she had been fantasizing about touching. She then wrapped her arms around his back. “Now,” she whispered urgently. And he was on top of her, pushing into her. As they moved, she talked to him, coaxed him, promising him sex at the house, in the bathroom, in the shower, in her bedroom, in the kitchen in
the middle of the night. He cried out, shuddering, then slowed to a stop. He lay on top of Pammy, like a dead man. “Are you all right?” she asked.
“I’m unbelievably all right,” said Daniel, pushing himself up by his arms to look at her. “That was fantastic. You’re fantastic.” He kissed her on the lips. Looking up at him, Pammy thought about Charlotte. “Don’t,” he said, as if reading her mind. “Don’t think about anything.” She smiled at him. “I never made any promises,” he continued. “We have a very open relationship.”
“Have there been others?” asked Pammy, suddenly hurt.
“No,” said Daniel. “No one but you.”
“And my sister.”
“Don’t do this, Pammy,” said Daniel, sitting next to her and covering his ears with his hands.
“Okay,” said Pammy. “Okay, I’ll stop. After one more question.”
“What’s that?”
“Why?” asked Pammy. “Why do this when you’re already screwing a woman in her forties whose body makes my body look like it’s ready for the old-age home?”
“Your body is beautiful,” said Daniel, “and it’s real.”
She hugged him. He had told her exactly what she wanted to hear. Even though he might have known that, she didn’t care. He satisfied her longings completely. He pulled her off the sand and dressed her. They walked back to the state beach, tightly holding hands like new lovers. When they reached the boardwalk, Daniel kissed her and ran off, leaving her to walk slowly back to the cottage alone.
CHAPTER 26
1973
Thomas took off the red windbreaker that had the words EAT PIZZA stenciled on the back and hung it up on a hook near the counter. He pulled the crumpled dollar bills out of his pocket and counted them, smoothing them so they would fit into his wallet. He had made twenty-six dollars in tips in four hours, which impressed him. They had been busy, as they usually were on Saturday nights, and Thomas was exhausted. “Good night, Mr. G,” he said, as he headed for the door.
“Good night, Thomas. I’ll see you Tuesday at six, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
Outside, the night air was thick with humidity. Thomas reached into the pocket of his pants for his keys while rounding the corner of the restaurant. His car was parked at the very end of the lot—the closer spaces being reserved for customers—under a weak streetlight. Thomas could see someone standing near his car. As soon as he realized it was Anna, he ran the rest of the way. “Are you okay?” he called to her.
“Yes,” she said, “and no.”
“Where’s Amy?” Thomas was standing next to her now.
“She’s home,” said Anna, “with my neighbor.” Convinced neither she nor Amy was in trouble, Thomas remembered he was angry with her. He folded his arms across his chest and waited for her to speak. “Everything’s okay,” she said. “I came to see you.” Thomas stood still. “I know you’re upset with me, and I understand that. You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to. I just wanted to see you.”
“Why?” Thomas struggled to hold his emotions in check. All the pep talks he had given himself felt hollow, useless.
“Because I miss you,” she said, “and I’ve treated you unfairly. At the very least, I should have been fair with you.” Thomas wanted to encircle her tiny waist with his arms, to rest his hands on the small of her back, to tell her he didn’t care about fairness because he loved her. But he stood still, except for unfolding his arms. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have come.”
“No,” said Thomas, gentle now. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Anna walked a step toward him and then stopped. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you. I wasn’t thinking about anything but being with you. You’re right about that.”
Thomas looked at her face, studying her. He hadn’t seen or talked to her in almost two weeks. She was just as beautiful, more so even, under the streetlight with the quiet blackness of the night framing her face, her clear skin translucent. He quickly realized he had not learned anything in the thirteen days since they broke up. He loved her and felt himself bending toward her, wanting to ask her if she’d changed her mind, if she’d be his wife.
“I think Amy misses you as much as I do,” said Anna, breaking down. Thomas went to her. He pulled her against his chest and held her tightly, not caring that she would feel the beating of his heart and know his true feelings. She put her arms around his waist and cried softly into his shirt. “I thought you would call me.”
“I wanted to.”
“But you didn’t.”
“I couldn’t, Anna. I have to try to forget about you. Calling someone who’s broken up with you does not help with the healing process.”
“Are you healed, Thomas? Have you forgotten about me?”
“No,” he said. “I’m not sure that’s possible.”
“I’m not sure it’s possible for me, either. I’m so mixed up.” Thomas leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips. “Don’t stop,” she said. “I’ve missed your sweet kisses.” And he kissed her again, longer this time, until he could no longer kiss her without touching her. “Come to my house,” Anna whispered when he stopped.
“I want to,” Thomas said, “more than anything else in the world.”
“But you won’t.”
“No,” said Thomas, amazing himself. “Because if I go to your house tonight and make love to you, I will want to stay.”
“You can stay,” said Anna. “You can stay all night.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes,” she said, sighing. “I know what you mean. How can we change things?”
“I could commute to Princeton,” Thomas suggested, smiling.
“You’re teasing me,” said Anna.
“Because we can’t change things,” said Thomas, “unless you want to change your mind.”
“About marrying you.”
“About marrying me.”
“No,” she said. “I was hoping you’d change your mind.”
“About?”
“About being with me, having fun with me, using me.” It was Anna who was smiling now.
“Your live-for-today plan,” said Thomas, serious again, looking into her eyes.
“Yes,” she said weakly, already knowing his answer would be no.
“And mid-August—less than a month from now—we shake hands and promise to write?”
“Thomas, you’re impossible.”
“Impossibly in love, yes,” he said. “I can’t see you and be with you, knowing that in September I can’t have you near me.”
“I’m half tempted . . .” Anna began.
“Don’t say things you don’t mean,” said Thomas, guessing her thoughts, putting his fingers lightly over her mouth. “You’ll break my heart all over again.”
Anna put her hand on the middle of his chest. “I’m sorry I broke your heart,” she said. “I want to fix it.”
Anna pulled at Thomas’s shirt, pulled him down to her. She put her hands on his cheeks and then moved them back into his hair, which she filtered slowly through her fingers. Thomas closed his eyes momentarily and then lifted Anna up off the ground. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck and kissed him. He put her down on the hood of his car. He put his hands down on the hood as well, on both sides of Anna, and moved closer to her until their faces were almost touching. “I’ve got to go,” he said.
“Don’t.”
“And you’ve got to go. If Amy wakes, she’ll want you and not your neighbor.”
“She loves Mary Purdy.”
“But not in the night when she wakes. She wants you.”
“How do you know?”
“Because that’s when I want you most,” said Thomas. “When I’m alone in the dark and the distractions of the day don’t drag my thoughts away, and I can think about what I need and want, it’s always you.”
“Thomas, you’re too good.”
Thomas kissed her once on the lips, then backed a
way. Slowly Anna eased herself down from the hood. Once on the ground, she looked up at him. “Where’s your car?” he asked.
“Around the corner.”
“I’ll drive you to it,” he said, opening the door for her.
She ducked down and sat on the seat, smelling his scent the moment she was in the car. She breathed in deeply, then moved over to be as close to Thomas as she could as he drove. He started the car and put his arm around Anna’s neck. They drove the block and a half in silence. When Thomas saw her car, he pulled over next to it and put his car into park. He got out and let Anna out on her side. He then opened the driver-side door to her car, which she never locked, and stood next to it while she slid inside. She looked up at him. “I’m glad you came,” he said.
“Why?”
“Because now I know you love me almost as much as I love you.” Anna smiled. Thomas closed her door, got back into his car, and looked at her one last time before he drove away.
Anna sat back in her seat and exhaled. “Maybe more,” she said.
CHAPTER 27
2003
Thomas pulled open the paneled wood door to Anna’s office. Inside, he stepped on a plush Oriental rug, much like the one he just left in the other law office. He smiled. The successful lawyers he knew all had or hired decorators with impeccable taste. Maroon leather chairs sat next to each other in pairs in the expansive foyer. Two, four, six, eight of them—their color exactly matching the red in the rug. Two antique coffee tables held the finance and architecture magazines found in the spacious living rooms of people with money. Tall, lush plants fed by the sunlight streaming in through several skylights shot out of their colorful ceramic pots. Having second thoughts about seeing Anna, Thomas turned and walked back toward the door. He had been gone an hour, and surely Barb would be wondering where he was. Thomas was, had been for most of his life, acutely aware of time. Punctuality was an issue with him. It was a lesson he learned from his father, who was never late. Habitually late people, Thomas had relearned many times over the years, were always ready with excuses when they showed up ten or fifteen minutes after a mutually scheduled meeting time, but no matter what they said happened, they lost points with Thomas. His business partners valued Thomas’s time as highly as they valued their own. Barb had been waiting for his return long enough. Just as he reached the door, he heard Anna’s voice.
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