Girls of Summer

by Nancy Thayer

  Mack told her, “Not long ago, seals were considered pests and killed. Their noses were brought into the town and the hunter got five dollars a nose. Then they were considered an endangered species and killing them became forbidden. Now we’ve come full circle. We’ve got too many seals, so the fishermen can’t catch enough fish.”

  “I’ve read that the seals are attracting great white sharks,” Lisa said, eyeing the rubbery pile of creatures rolling over one another, grunting and snorting.

  “It’s true. They’ve been spotted on the Cape and around the island. Funny how things change.”

  “Funny how time changes us all.” The moment she spoke, Lisa wished she could swallow her words. She didn’t want to talk about time. She was ten years older than Mack. She was in fifth grade when he was born! What was she even doing out here? She was so attracted to the man, and yet she needed to protect herself. He was only being friendly. “You know, Theo and Beth are the same age. I was thirty-one when he was born. I think you were much younger, weren’t you?”

  “I was twenty-one,” Mack said. “And I was an idiot.”

  Lisa laughed. “Trust me, you can be an idiot at any age.”

  “True. I don’t mean I was an idiot to marry Marla. I loved her. And if I hadn’t married her, I wouldn’t have Beth in my life.”

  “Tell me about Marla.” Lisa gazed out into the water, giving him emotional space.

  “I guess you didn’t know her,” Mack said.

  “No. I was in Washington then.” And as I said, I was ten years older, Lisa wanted to add.

  “So. She was, well, she was my first love. She was pretty, sweet, and I suppose, in a way, she was maybe a little bit childish. I don’t mean to criticize her. But she didn’t like to face facts.”

  “Whereas everyone else loves to face facts,” Lisa joked.

  Mack chuckled. “She took things personally. I mean, like the electric bill. If it was high, she would burst into tears. She enjoyed cooking, and always tried to come up with something fancy for our dinner, but if it didn’t come out just right, she was miserable. Even angry—at the casserole, or whatever.”

  “She sounds like a perfectionist.”

  “She was more of a dreamer. A romantic. She was crazy happy when she was pregnant, although the whole childbirth thing shocked her.”

  “Listen, the whole childbirth thing shocks every woman,” Lisa said.

  Mack was quiet for a moment, thinking. “She loved Beth. She was a great mother. I can’t say our marriage would have lasted. We were too young and as it turned out, very different. But she was a great mother. Beth was her entire world.”

  “It’s heartbreaking that she died,” Lisa said softly.

  “Yes.” Mack cleared his throat. “But she was romantic even about that. She believed that she had achieved her destiny by bringing Beth to the world. She died at home. Hospice had been coming for a week. Marla knew she was getting weaker. She had me move Beth’s little bed into our bedroom so she could be with her till the last minute. Beth sat on the end of Marla’s bed and read stories to her mother. Of course, Beth couldn’t read, so she made up the stories. Marla would lie there smiling, hearing Beth’s sweet little voice…” Mack cleared his throat. “Sorry. I haven’t talked about this for a long time.”

  Lisa wanted to hold his hand, touch him in consolation, but she remained still, not intruding on his sorrow.

  “But Beth’s all right, I think,” Mack continued. “She was so young, and I guess she grew up thinking we were a normal family, the two of us.”

  “You’ve been widowed a long time. Did you never want to marry again?”

  “Truthfully? No. I guess I never met the right woman. Plus, working full-time and being a single parent isn’t easy.”

  “I’ve noticed.”

  “That’s right.” Mack looked at Lisa. “You were single with two children. How did that happen?”

  Lisa smiled. “I guess I was an idiot, too. So was Erich. Maybe we all are around the age of twenty. We met at Middlebury, married before graduation, and moved to Washington, D.C. Erich and his father worked for a bank based in Switzerland that helped developing countries. They traveled a lot, and spoke several languages.”

  “That sounds kind of glamorous.”

  “It was.” Lisa picked up a stone and turned it in her hands, idly. “I wasn’t. I never became what Erich thought I should.” Quickly, because she didn’t want to verge into self-pity, she said, “But I did have a wonderful few years traveling through Europe with him on our vacations. I saw Paris, Amsterdam, Rome, and I worked in the National Museum of Women in the Arts in Washington. I liked that a lot. Then we had the children, and I stopped working, and Erich traveled more for the bank, and I missed Nantucket…what do they say? We grew apart. We divorced, and I’m not sorry about that at all.”

  “Did he marry again?”

  “I don’t think so. I google him every so often.” She laughed. “I don’t mean to sound like a stalker.”

  “You’re hardly a stalker. Erich sounds like a sociopath if he doesn’t care about his kids. No wonder you’ve never married again.”

  “I’ve hardly had time to even think about that. When the children were in middle school, I started working at Vestments, and eventually I bought the shop and turned it into Sail. I enjoy it, and it helped our lives financially—” Lisa interrupted her train of thought. “And I have plenty of money to have repairs done on the house.”

  “It’s a big house,” Mack said. “Especially for one person.”

  “True. But Juliet comes home for holidays and for a week or two in the summer. Theo’s in California, so he doesn’t come that often.”

  “They’re not married?”

  “No. They’ve both dated, of course, but they’re old enough now, twenty-seven and twenty-five, so I assume they haven’t met the right person.”

  “You think there is a right person for everyone?”

  Lisa cocked her head, looking at Mack. “I do.”

  “So do I,” Mack said, and he held her gaze until they both blushed.

  She had to break the spell or he’d think that she thought he wanted to kiss her, and that couldn’t be right, not when he was looking at her with the sun on her imperfect and ten-years-older face. “Would you like some grapes?” she asked, holding out a stem.

  “Um, sure,” he said.

  They ate grapes and gazed at the sea. After a while, they walked down the empty beach, away from the seals and Great Point. They trudged through deep sand up to the Great Point Lighthouse, the high stone tower casting an arrow of shadow over the marsh grass and wild roses. They half-slid down a sand dune to the ocean and watched the light change over the water.

  “We should get back,” Lisa said.

  As they lifted and carried the basket, the blanket, and the cooler back to Mack’s Jeep, Lisa was almost breathlessly aware of Mack’s masculinity. His strong legs. His muscular arms. His hands, so much bigger and rougher than her own. His hair, slightly brown, slightly blond, was thick and slightly shaggy, which made him look even younger.

  She needed to have her hair styled. She needed a manicure—and a pedicure, because summer was coming. She needed to lose ten pounds.

  She needed to get real.

  They made the bumpy ride back over the soft sand to the hard sand road and finally out to the blacktop. They didn’t talk, but that was only natural. It was difficult to have a conversation while bumping over the sandy ruts. Lisa was grateful for the silence. She felt they were returning to normal, to just friends.

  Mack stopped at the air pumps to fill his tires to the right pressure.

  As he got back into his truck, he said, “I worry about Beth.”

  Lisa glanced at him. “You do?”

  “Yeah. She’s twenty-five and she’s never brought home a guy for me to meet
.”

  “Maybe she’s been seeing guys she doesn’t want you to meet,” Lisa suggested with a smile.

  “Maybe. But I’m afraid I haven’t given her a good example of what a relationship should be like. What a marriage should be like.”

  Lisa nodded. “I know what you mean. I worry, too.”

  “Do you think it ever stops? The worrying?” Mack asked.

  “No. I don’t think it ever stops,” Lisa replied. “It’s hard work, loving someone. But it’s what makes life worth living.”

  Mack glanced over at Lisa with a smile. “True. And sometimes it can be a lot of fun.”

  And there it was again, the heat between them. The connection.

  When they came to her house, he helped her carry her beach bag of leftover cookies and beer to the kitchen door.

  “Thanks for the lovely afternoon,” Lisa told him. “I feel like summer’s almost here.” Bashfully, she added, “I think you got some sun.”

  “So did you. Right here.” He touched her cheek and Lisa almost fainted.

  “Looks good on you,” Mack said. “So, um, work tomorrow. I’ll see you first thing.”

  “Yes, tomorrow,” Lisa agreed.

  four

  Monday morning Lisa was in her bedroom trying to decide what to wear. Something casual and dignified, but sexy. Was that combination even possible? She wanted to crawl back in bed, curl up in the covers, and read. But already she heard Dave and Tom stomping around downstairs, tuning their radio to a rock station.

  A knock sounded loudly at her bedroom door.

  Lisa usually wore a long T-shirt to bed, which was what she was wearing now. She had no bra on. No shoes, no makeup, and she hadn’t dealt with her hair. She reached for her red silk kimono. It would do for a cover-up.

  “Come in,” she called as she tied the sash.

  Mack stuck his head in. “Good morning.” He wore carpenter’s pants and a flannel shirt.

  “Good morning.”

  “I’ve brought coffee.”

  “Oh, thank you.”

  Mack entered the room. “Can we talk a moment?” he asked as he handed her a to-go cup.

  “Of course. Um, should we go downstairs?” When he stood close to her like this, Lisa couldn’t think.

  “Let’s stay up here. I don’t want Dave or Tom to interrupt. I’ll sit in the chair, okay?”

  Lisa laughed. “If you can find room among the clothes. Just toss them on the floor.”

  Mack sat on the chair. Lisa perched on the side of the bed, waiting.

  “Look, Lisa, I don’t know exactly how to say this, but I want to get things straight. About us, I mean.”

  Oh, dear, Lisa thought. Here it came, the kind but firm dismissal.

  “I like you, Lisa. A lot. I’m not sure what we’ve got going, but I don’t want to go into it lightly. I think we have fun together. Yesterday at the beach…I think we’re good for each other. We’ve both been single for a long time, and…I’m not saying I want to be permanent. It’s too soon for that. But I want us to be exclusive.”

  Lisa nearly spilled her coffee. “Yes,” she said. He was so handsome. It was his jawline, and his eyes, and his lashes. And his lips. “Me, too.”

  Mack smiled. “I want us to go out together. I mean to dinner, to movies.”

  “You want to date,” Lisa said, smiling. She felt warm all over.

  “Well, and more than date,” Mack said.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m too old to play around,” Mack said. “I want to make love to you. But I don’t want to rush into this.”

  “Lord!” Lisa exclaimed, losing her cool. She set her cup on the nightstand and stood up, her hands on her red-hot cheeks. Her face must match her robe. “Mack, you’re really…”

  “Blunt? Honest? Candid?”

  Lisa walked across the room toward the window, needing the distance. “Yes, all of those things. And I’m glad. I’m grateful. And I want everything you say. But, Mack…” Lisa paused and summoned up every speck of bravery in her entire being. “I’m fifty-six years old.”

  Mack shrugged. “How is that relevant?”

  “Because you’re only forty-six.”

  Mack laughed. “I don’t think that matters. Do you?”

  “Well, yes, yes, I do think it matters. People will talk—”

  “People will talk anyway.” Mack stood up.

  Lisa frowned. How could he not understand how significant the difference in their ages was?

  “Let me take you out to dinner Friday night,” Mack said. “The Seagrille should be open. We can take our time, drink some nice wine, and get to know each other better. Okay?”

  Lisa felt like she was shining. “Okay.”

  “I’m going down now to talk to the boys. About work.”

  “I’ll be down soon. I need to dress. I feel kind of wobbly,” she admitted.

  “Drink your coffee,” Mack told her with a grin.

  Was this happening? Lisa thought after Mack left the room. She wanted to call Rachel and giggle like a little girl. She wanted to break into song and twirl around her room like Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music.

  She pulled herself together, finished her coffee, and got ready to open her shop.

  * * *

  —

  Not many restaurants were open at the end of May, but the Seagrille was always good, and Lisa hoped she and Mack would be given a booth instead of a table. That way, perhaps, they could have some privacy. They had arrived early because they both had to work the next day.

  The waitress, Sally Hardy, knew them both. She did give them a booth, and for a few moments, as Lisa and Mack settled themselves, looked at the menus, and tried to act normally during their first real romantic date, they were alone. But quickly, as other diners entered the restaurant, friends and acquaintances stopped to say hello. Their greetings were short and casual—how are you, the weather’s getting better—but Lisa knew that some of the women would start texting their friends the moment they sat down.

  She thought she looked pretty, or as pretty as possible. It had been a long time since she’d worn makeup, and it had taken her over an hour to put on foundation, concealer, blush, eyeliner, mascara, and lipstick. And another fifteen minutes to wipe it all off. She ended up wearing light sweepings of blush and a rosy lipstick.

  She’d kept her dark hair in its tidy chin-length layered bob. She didn’t want to be tossing long locks of hair around as if she thought she was in her twenties.

  She was modest in her clothing, too. She had several blouses and light sweaters that dipped low in the front so a lacy camisole peeked through the V. Instead, she wore khakis—not yoga pants, even though she wore them at home and even when doing errands, but she didn’t want to seem to be trying to be young tonight—and a light blue sweater with a multicolored swirl of scarf around her neck.

  She probably looked like she was going to a PTA meeting.

  Mack scrubbed up nicely. He wore a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His arms were muscular and covered with fine blond hair.

  They ordered drinks and considered the menu. Lisa ordered the seafood casserole and Mack ordered a steak.

  “Typical, right?” he joked as the waitress went off.

  “You work hard physically,” Lisa said. “You need red meat.” Everything she said seemed like a double entendre.

  “True.”

  They stared at each other for a moment, caught in a web of attraction.

  “So,” Mack said. “How do we do this? You tell me your favorite book and I tell you my favorite song?”

  Lisa smiled. “Sounds like you’ve been on some dating apps.”

  The waitress brought their drinks. Mack waited until she left to answer.

  “I admit it, I have. I haven’t met anyone, thou
gh. I’ve been so busy with work. I’m glad Beth’s got her degrees, but college costs money.”

  “I know. Fortunately, part of the divorce deal was that Erich would pay for the children’s college tuition. And both of them worked in the summer to help with expenses.”

  “So,” Mack said, directing his gaze into his glass, “tell me about how you came to have your shop.”

  A warm rush of satisfaction sped through Lisa. She leaned back against the booth, and smiled. “It’s a dream come true. Really. I’m like a child with a box full of toys.”

  “A very smart child,” Mack said. “It’s quite impressive that you’ve run the shop for so long, managing to pay the crushing Main Street rent and still make a profit.”

  “I took business administration in college,” Lisa told him. “I worked for Vesta Mahone and learned a lot from her. I grew up here. I know the cycle of the seasons.” Shrugging lightly, she added, “And my kids have lived their own lives for several years now. I’m not distracted from my focus on my shop.”

  After a moment, Mack asked, “And you never married again?”

  Lisa laughed. “I never even dated again!”

  The waitress arrived with their appetizers. They both ordered another drink.

  “You’ve been single all this time?” Mack asked.

  Lisa felt herself blush. “I was so busy. It was hard, raising two children alone. Also, when they were both in school, I worked at Vestments part-time. And then full-time. And then I had my own shop and it seemed I worked twenty-four hours a day.” She paused. “I think I shouldn’t have worked full-time, ever, but especially when the kids were adolescents. I should have, could have, maybe, restrained Theo more. But they seemed to need less of me. They certainly seemed to want less of me. And we needed extra money. Teenagers are expensive. Although, to give them credit, they both worked in the summer from fourteen on.”