The rest of the afternoon dragged by. They worked inside the clubhouse, in the rec hall, spread out in circles prepping crafts for the first day of camp. Emma was in charge of cutting out triangles from white cotton sheets that would later be used as sails for miniature boats. She was halfway through the stack of fabric when Bob Kline came over and handed her another stack. “Nice work, Goodwin,” he said as he walked away.
Emma tried not to groan. Her fingers ached. “How many do we need?” she called after him.
“At least a hundred. Maybe two.”
She swiveled and found herself staring up at Sully McMahon. He grinned.
Before Emma could think of what to say, he knelt beside her. “Still got that juice?”
“What?” Then she realized what he meant. Emma glanced around the rec room, her eyes landing on Alicia, who was watching them. She nodded, heart thudding beneath her camp T-shirt. “Yeah, I’ve got it.”
“Good. Bring it down to the dock tonight. Say, nine o’clock?”
So he did want it back. She tried to keep her voice even. “My dock or Amanda’s?”
“Yours. See you then.”
* * *
At eight forty-five, Emma slipped into a pair of cutoff shorts. She stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom. What she needed was a white pair, like Amanda’s. Maybe not as short. She took care with mascara and lip gloss, even though she knew it would be dark. At the last minute she kicked off her tennis shoes in favor of a pair of strappy sandals.
It wasn’t clear if Sully wanted her to meet them at the dock to give the Wild Turkey back, or if it was an invitation to join them. To be fair, she didn’t know which scenario she preferred. The thought of being left on the dock as they motored away was unbearable. But the thought of climbing into the boat with them and having to make small talk, and probably drink, was terrifying. Carefully she wrapped the bottle in a beach towel and slid it into her backpack.
The hallway was quiet, the only light coming from a sliver under her parents’ door. She’d said good night to them earlier, claiming she had a headache. Her mother had looked at her funny. “It’s so early. Are you sure you’re feeling okay, honey?”
“Yeah. I just got a little too much sun today.”
Per usual, her father barely looked up from his laptop. “Hope you feel better, Emmy-Bean.”
She really wished he’d stop using that nickname. But she was glad they didn’t press further, and also glad they went to bed early.
It was alarming just how easy it was to fool them, she thought, as she stepped out into the hall. Quietly, she tiptoed down the stairs and through the kitchen. Moments later, she was sliding the patio door closed behind her and racing across the backyard. Easy as spilled milk.
Down on the dock there was a chill in the air coming off the lake. Emma peered into the darkness, her fingers drumming against her backpack straps. Across the water came the thrum of bullfrogs, a familiar cadence that helped slow her breathing.
Ten minutes passed, then another. After a while, she stopped checking her phone. The illuminated screen drew bugs, and already she could feel the sting of mosquito bites on her bare legs. But still she waited.
By nine forty-five the realization that they weren’t coming washed over her like fresh embarrassment. Angrily, she slung the backpack up over her shoulder. What had she expected? It wasn’t like she was friends with any of these people. Amanda Hastings didn’t acknowledge she had a pulse. As for Sully, she was just the girl who had his bottle of booze. But still—why had he invited her?
Maybe Sully McMahon was messing with her. Or maybe he’d planned to come but things fell through. As she turned away from the water and crossed the dock for the stairs, an even worse thought occurred to her. Maybe he’d forgotten.
Tears pricked her eyes. This summer was going to be exactly like all the rest. She was halfway up the hill for home when she heard a sound. Emma froze, listening. Yes, there were voices coming from up the shore.
A minute later, the rumble of a boat motor broke the stillness. Hesitantly, she headed back down the hill. The motor grew louder and the white shape of a boat sliced through the darkness. “There she is.” It sounded like Sully.
Emma made her way slowly across the dock to meet it. Let them think she was just arriving. Someone in the boat had their phone on, illuminating a handful of faces. She could make out Amanda behind the wheel, but neither girl greeted the other.
“Emma. Our Turkey delivery girl.”
It was Sully. He leaned out over the side.
A flicker of anger rose in her chest. They’d kept her waiting over an hour, and like a fool, she’d stayed. They were probably laughing about it on the way over.
“Here,” she said, thrusting the backpack toward him. “Take it.”
Sully took the bag from her hand, and she waited for him to unzip it and retrieve the bottle. He could keep the backpack, for all she cared. Instead, he set it down on the floor of the boat. Then he extended his hand. “Come on.”
It was a directive more than an invitation. But she reached out.
Sully’s grip was warm. He tugged her forward and she stepped down into the boat, landing roughly on the seat beside him. Someone laughed. The engine sputtered and they turned out toward deep water. As they picked up speed, Sully shifted beside her on the bench, and she could feel the warmth of his leg against her own. The boat surged and she fumbled to hang on to the side. Her hair streaming out behind her, Emma threw her head back. She wanted to scream at the stars.
Olivia
The playdate had been a disaster. “We haven’t heard a peep from Ruby or her mother since. I invited them to come over, but Helen declined, saying their schedule was ‘terribly full.’ ”
Olivia slumped against the speech pathologist’s overstuffed couch, playing with her engagement ring. Luci was just outside in the waiting room. “I don’t know which is worse, keeping Luci home to protect her from this kind of thing or pushing her back out there to socialize.”
Alison tapped the eraser tip of her pencil thoughtfully against her chin, considering Olivia’s words. “Neither,” she said, finally. “It’s a matter of finding a balance between the two. You’re doing the right thing by giving her these opportunities. That said, the right thing often isn’t easy.”
“It’s downright brutal.” What Olivia most appreciated about Alison was the relationship they’d forged since she’d moved to Connecticut. Leaving New York, where Luci had received therapy through the Brooklyn school district as a preschool student, had been hard. Starting over with a new school district, new therapist, and pediatrician had felt daunting. Olivia always came to Alison’s office feeling small and inadequate against the world, ripe with anecdotes of their latest challenges, e.g., the playdate. But Alison sent her back out every time, bolstered with strategies and encouragement. Buster was a great therapy dog. But what Olivia really wanted to do was put a leash on Alison and bring her along, too.
“What about the social group I referred you to? How’s that going?”
Alison had suggested that small group interactions with children going through similar struggles might best help Luci. The trouble was, there weren’t many kids dealing with selective mutism living nearby, especially in the more rural hills of Connecticut. They’d done a similar playgroup in New York, and the ages and diagnoses of the children in the group ranged from Asperger’s to autism to general anxiety disorders. Olivia liked the support of other parents also struggling to provide their children with meaningful social experiences, and the empathy that came with that. But the group Alison had suggested she join was an hour away, in the Hartford area, and getting there with any regularity just wasn’t easy. “We tried it twice,” Olivia told her. “And there were some nice kids in the group. But Hartford is so far. Which is why I thought it’d be good to pursue some relationships here, within the community.” She threw up her hands. “I don’t know, maybe I should rethink it.”
Alison regarded her with sympa
thy. “You’re doing great, Olivia. When Luci starts kindergarten this fall, there will be more consistent opportunities for interaction. She’ll see those classmates every day.”
Olivia winced. That was true, but it was also part of the problem. Luci would deal with these struggles and setbacks every single day. And at the end of the day, none of the therapists or doctors could possibly understand what it was like for Olivia. It was she who climbed into bed with Luci and rubbed her back as she said a little prayer for a friend on a good night. Or reassured her when Luci cried that she had none on a bad one. It was Olivia who lingered in her child’s doorway, watching her little girl sleep, finally free from her worries if only for a few hours. No bedtime story or session of therapy could change that.
“I have some other news. I’m engaged.”
Alison brightened. “That’s wonderful! How did Luci respond?”
Olivia smiled, allowing her mind to wander back a few days. The morning after Jake proposed, she’d told Luci the news alone. Jake had wanted to be in on the conversation, but Olivia felt that if they really wanted Luci’s genuine response, it would be best if she did it.
“All right,” he’d agreed. “But when we’re a family, we’ll be doing these things together, right?” The look in his eyes was not a demanding one. He wanted to be brought into the fold.
To her delight, Luci had shrieked when Olivia told her.
“So we’ll live together?”
“That’s right. Jake will be here for school days and weekend days. He’ll be here when you wake up in the morning, and to tuck you in when you go to bed at night. You, me, Buster, and Jake. We’re going to be a family, Lu.”
Luci had smiled, the little gap between her front teeth showing in full. “Buster will be so happy!”
After their appointment with Alison, Olivia stopped at the market to pick up some things for dinner.
That night Jake came over after work, and they grilled chicken and squash on the barbecue before taking a long walk with Luci and Buster. After, when Olivia had given Luci her bath and helped her into bed, Jake had climbed the stairs and stood in the doorway with a book tucked under his arm. “May I?” he’d asked, showing them the cover of Paddington Bear. “This was my favorite when I was little.”
Olivia looked at him with surprise. Jake often came up to say good night to Luci, but he’d always left them to their story time alone, a gesture she had seen as respectful. The intimacy of this new offer touched her.
And apparently, Luci, too. Instead of looking away when he asked, Luci had scooted over to make room for him. Olivia slipped off the bed as Jake climbed into her spot; then she lingered in the doorway listening as Jake read aloud. His voice was melodic. Luci’s eyes were glued to the illustrations, but Olivia couldn’t take hers off of Jake. The sight of him propped up against Luci’s pink lace pillows, surrounded by stuffed animals, was more than she could bear.
Now, with Luci sound asleep and the peepers singing their nighttime chorus, she and Jake lingered on the back patio in the growing darkness, a bottle of wine between them. Jake looked up at the stars. “There will be other playdates,” he reassured her.
“I hope so.” Olivia looked for a star to wish on.
“Maybe what you girls need is a break.” He smiled. “With some good food and company. And a view.”
Olivia leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder. The stars were growing brighter against the darkening sky. “That sounds divine. And where exactly is this magical place?”
“My parents’ place. Let’s get everyone together on the boat. We’ll make a day of it on the lake.”
Olivia had heard the stories about Jake’s childhood summers growing up on Candlewood Lake. The days spent waterskiing, boating, and jumping off of Chicken Rock. They sounded idyllic, and something she found herself craving each time she listened. But Jake’s family was still very much new to her and Luci, and placing Luci in the tight confines of a boat with a big group gave Olivia pause. If she found it to be too much, it wasn’t as if she could get off to take a break from all the stimulus.
“I don’t know,” she said, carefully. “It sounds lovely. But what if Luci gets overwhelmed?” She didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but it wasn’t as simple as a day out in a boat.
Jake was still learning what worked and what did not. There were times when Olivia thought he understood; when they planned outings together, he was certain to keep the trips short and allow for a stimulus break, so Luci could wander off and have time to herself. Earlier that spring they’d gone on a hike to Kent Falls. The day had been perfect, sunny and blue-skied. Visitors crowded the park tossing Frisbees in the field, picnicking, and climbing the steep wooded steps alongside the waterfall. They could lose themselves among it all. Luci delighted in running around and petting the dogs. She waded in the pools at the base of the falls, watching the other kids splashing one another. And when she needed a break, they could retire to the wooded trails together. It was the perfect kind of outing for her. Now, with this invitation to crowd into a boat in the middle of the lake with all of Jake’s family, Olivia fought off her frustration and wondered if she’d overestimated his understanding.
“Do you think it’s too much?” he asked.
Olivia shrugged. There was also the matter of not wanting to be burdensome on others. She imagined Jane Goodwin packing an expansive picnic lunch and all the fixings she’d go to the trouble to prepare. There’d be mixed drinks and multiple courses—enough to make a full day of it out on the lake. The last thing Olivia wanted as a soon-to-be daughter-in-law was to be a downer to their outing. And then there was Perry; he was unflappably polite if quirky, but no matter what she did or said, Perry always seemed to be watching her warily. Unlike the others, who were so vibrant in their welcoming, she’d not been able to break through his cool exterior.
“Look, my family understands,” Jake reassured her. “And I think it’s time we did more together, so that both they and Luci get comfortable around each other. We’re going to be a family, right?”
Even in the growing darkness, Jake’s brown eyes were bright with hope. He wanted so much to include her in the fold of his family, something she loved deeply about him. He’d only recently returned to New England to settle down, he’d told her when they first met. Never before had he thought he’d come back to sleepy Connecticut to stay, let alone get married. And yet he had, and she was the one he’d chosen.
From the day she’d attended his grandmother’s birthday party, it had become clear to her that Jake was the golden boy in his family. All of the Goodwins were startlingly good-looking and bright, but Jake possessed the best qualities of them all. He was sharp like Perry, and yet playful like Phoebe. He was as kind as she’d found his father, Edward, to be in just the few times she’d spent time with him. And as social as Jane, who loved to fill her house and entertain. Since they’d met, Olivia had seen how others were drawn to him, just as she had been. Complete strangers in bars who would be laughing and sharing stories like old friends by the time the evening ended. Beautiful women on the subway, who stole looks across the aisle, despite the fact that he had his arm snug around Olivia’s waist. Jake Goodwin was the kind of man who could have his pick. And he’d chosen her and Luci.
“All right,” she said, finally. “Let’s make it a date on the lake.”
Jake leaned over and kissed her. “It will be fun. I’ll take good care of you girls,” he said. “I promise.”
Already, Jake had promised Olivia so much. She tipped her head back, letting her eyes wander across the starry sky. Olivia was the only child of an expat single father and raised in a New York restaurant. Her sense of family consisted of busboys and hostesses and loyal customers. Holidays belonged to the public; her father’s job, and later hers, was to host and feed and nourish them. To make their special occasions more so. There had never been cousins to play with, or aunts and uncles to visit; no grandmother to fuss over her. Olivia had never had any of that as a child. A
nd it was all she’d ever wanted for Luci.
Olivia reached over and squeezed Jake’s hand, as the wine settled into her limbs. With Jake’s family they’d have it all.
Phoebe
Rose Calloway was the bank construction loan officer, and over the course of the seven months the house had been under renovation the two women had had so many phone conversations that Phoebe considered her almost a friend. Almost.
The initial conversations had been endless: the application process, the insurance policies needed (one million dollars for a five-hundred-thousand-dollar house?), the advances, the inspections, the payout schedule. If getting the loan wasn’t hard enough, keeping track of the construction loan process was positively mind-boggling. First there was the advance, which initially seemed generous to Phoebe, to get the renovations started. But Phoebe soon learned it would be burned through like fire. Not to worry, Rose assured her; it happened all the time with up-front costs, and she’d get the hang of staying ahead of the budget as building progressed. After that, Rose explained that payouts were determined based on progress inspections. It was up to Phoebe to decide when she wanted to schedule these inspections. When the inspector did come out, he or she would review the progress of the renovation and give percentages of funds according to percentages of work done. Then Phoebe could forward the funds to her contractor to cover costs and dispense them to his subcontractors. There was a good deal of passing large sums of money through hands, and for a girl who loathed math, the management of such funds was daunting. But with Rose’s help, Phoebe had gotten it done.
The View from Here Page 10
