Claire studied the rounded structure, seeing how the pieces of the bridge fit together. It gave her pride to know that Peter and she had shared this work together. “Now what, Caroline?”
“Now each of you needs to go to either end of the span. Peter, if you’ll be a gentleman and slosh through that creek one final time.”
“Of course.” He gave her a ridiculous look as he traipsed through the water.
When Peter stood on one side of the bridge and Claire on the other, Caroline gave them instructions. “Now you begin to slowly approach each other.”
Claire stepped onto the first log. The bridge seemed sturdy, yet she wobbled a bit. Peter did, too.
“Now move to the next log.”
The incline wasn’t much higher than the creek, but Claire glimpsed the water flowing beneath the cross brace. It made her slightly dizzy. She wobbled again.
“Now stay where you’re standing and repeat these words to each other. Claire, you first.”
“I, Claire, will make a space for Peter in my life.”
Claire responded as Caroline requested, staring at her husband. “I will make a space in my life for you.”
Peter responded, voicing the same sentiment. “I, Peter, will make a space in my life for you, too.”
“Now each of you, place your right foot on the center span, then hold hands.”
They did as instructed. Peter’s hands were cold, but his expression gave off caring and affection.
“Tell each other how you feel.”
“I’ll go first,” Peter said, squeezing her fingers. She was certain he was shaking. “I love you, Claire. I want to come home.”
Claire wobbled on the log. “I love you, too, and I thought you’d…” She lost her footing and slipped to her left. Peter reached for her, trying to prevent a fall, but his effort only took him off balance. They both fell into the creek.
Claire gasped when she struck the water with Peter landing right beside her. They didn’t hear Caroline’s shocked cry, they only had eyes for each other. Both of them were soaked. Peter grasped her hands and urged her upward. They sat in the middle of the creek, cold and wet.
“Are you all right?” Peter asked. “Have you injured yourself?”
“I’m okay.”
“Let me help you up.”
Peter grasped Claire’s hand and they rose together, not letting go of each other. She’d seen that look before, the one that let her know that this man cared deeply for her. He bridged the gap between them, and she moved toward him, too, knowing he would kiss her. He grasped her head, his hands wet, water running down his face. She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him to her, wet clothes and all, while entertaining a long kiss.
When they heard the sound of clapping, they broke free of their embrace. Refusing to leave Peter’s arms, Claire turned around to see Caroline, her mother and father, and her best friends waving frantically at her. Where had they come from? She hadn’t heard them approaching. And all of them were smiling.
Claire didn’t think about how they appeared with their clothing soaked through. She grinned, grasped Peter’s hand and stated: “We built a bridge and Peter’s coming home.”
“Well, not so quick,” Caroline said. “There’s two more days of couple’s retreat to get through.”
“Can’t wait to see what’s next,” Peter said, holding Claire’s hand. “I’ve been missing out. Claire and I should have participated in a retreat years ago.”
“Maybe,” Claire said, her heart full, “perhaps we’ll need to change the rules.”
Anne, Sarah and Laina came forward and helped them leave the creek. As they left the water, Claire saw that her parents were hugging, and it seemed to her that they were happy about the new foundation that had been built between a husband and wife, but maybe there had been something wrong with the bridge support after all since they’d fallen.
She’d forgive Peter for not checking it better. A couple still had work to do.
Chapter Fourteen
The final remnants of golden sunlight streamed through a current of sea air and breathing in its freshness filled Claire with calm as she strolled toward the place where the ocean met the shore, her attention on a circular ball of light and brilliant colors of tangerine and blue. The beauty of it all sparkling just above the horizon.
She walked beside him with the backside of her hand lingering against his fingers, all the while longing for more than simple touch, discreet touch, yet glad of his company as they came closer to the evening’s activity.
“Will you look at that—your parents are still on the island. Your friends, too.”
“That’s surprising. I wonder if they’re participating in tonight’s session. The bridge-building exercise challenged our abilities well enough.”
“Caroline has tested our thoughts, our physical strength. Maybe the camp director has an emotional contest in mind.”
“My mother’s friend has never been an emotional person, often choosing to take a direct, albeit confrontational approach, but maybe you’re right. Look who’s joining us at the beach.”
Sure enough, family and friends were gathered on the shoreline within a few feet of the ocean. Wooden deck chairs were placed in a circle and her mother and father were conversing with Caroline. Her girlfriends had already taken their seats. In total, eight friends and family were participating in their evening counselling session, and it seemed wine and beer would be in the mix.
Her closest friend held a glass of white in her hand. “Anne looks as if she’d stab a crab if one crept from beneath a rock,” Peter said, smirking. “Does she still hate me?”
Claire wanted to say yes, but what would honesty gain them? She chose to take the easier approach. “Given her expression, you’ll find out soon enough.”
Peter grasped her hand and squeezed. “Frightful, by the look of things, but she’s always had a protective streak where you’re concerned. You’re her closest friend.”
“We’re certain to face torture.” Claire eyed Peter’s expression, entwining her fingers within his.
“I can take it.”
“I didn’t expect my family, or my friends, would participate tonight. It makes me uncomfortable.”
Peter’s facial expression radiated curiosity more so than concern. His eyebrows rose in question. “Why? We’ve faced your friends’ scrutiny before. We’ll get through it.”
“Will we? Anne doles out the truth whether one likes it or not.”
“The facts as she sees them, even so, I’m surprised your parents stayed away this long, especially your mother.”
“Mom likes to live in the center of my world. ”
“She means well. But here we are, let’s face the music. Maybe they’ll surprise us.”
They walked down three stairs, descending to the embankment, soon standing on a shoreline pebbled with stones.
Caroline broke away from the conversation with her parents. “Aha… here they are, our two most important guests.” She stepped away from her parents while waving her hands and calling out instructions as if she were a music director. “Take your seats, everyone, and please…leave these two chairs open,” she said, pointing at the left and right of the center of the circle, “for our lucky couple.”
“Center stage has arrived, and here we go.” Peter squeezed her fingers, whispering his amusement, then released his grip, glancing at her for a moment with a twinkle in his eyes. She missed his touch. “How difficult can it be?”
“Oh god,” Claire said, looking at Anne again, “I feel like a puppet on display. I want to run for my life. Will you join me?”
“When it’s over. Let’s take our seats.”
Claire sat, the deck chair hard against her buttocks. Anne sat on her left and her mom on her right. Peter sat directly across from her, and on his right sat Laina and on his left, her dear old dad. Sarah took up the middle of these two positions and enjoyed a favorable position nearest to the ocean. Caroline, having the best view of
everyone, including the ocean, directed the evening’s festivities.
“Welcome to the shores of Daydream Island. First and foremost, I want to thank my dearest friends, Mary and Burt, for giving me the opportunity to make a lifetime pursuit come true in our new retreat and relationship programming center.”
Mary expressed a familiar sincerity, smiling sweetly, a look that warmed Claire’s heart. “You’re welcome, dear friend.”
“I also want to express my gratitude to Claire and Peter. Not only for working on their relationship issues, but also for enabling Summer Landing to test a couple’s healing experience for further guests. I know this guest experience came as a surprise to you, Claire, but I hope it gives you comfort that Peter agreed to my plans from the start.”
Claire glanced at him, feeling emotional and grateful that he’d made the couple commitment. His effort expressed goodwill. He wasn’t sitting beside her, but at least they were meeting inside the same circle.
“When in difficulty, a couple must have support from their family and friends, so I also extend my gratitude to Anne, Sarah and Laina, for participating and supporting Claire and Peter.”
When Claire glanced at Anne, she smirked. Sarah lowered her line of vision, and Laina seemed as lost as a kitten or a puppy. Her friend glanced at the ocean, dreaming of who knew what. The curiosity must have overcome Peter, for he spoke.
“Caroline, you’ve held us in suspense long enough; the curiosity is killing me. What do you have planned?”
Caroline had yet to take a seat. She went behind her chair, collected a reusable cloth bag, and pulled out an empty wine bottle. “Spin the bottle, anyone?”
Claire gave a nervous laugh. “Spin the bottle? My parents are here.”
Burt’s snort of laughter caused all eyes to focus on him. “Darling daughter, this might come as a surprise, but your mother and I have spun the bottle.”
If Claire had been dismayed before, now she struggled with embarrassment. What has my father announced? She glanced at her mother, hoping to hear an intelligent response. Her mother’s face, though struck by the light of a diminishing sun, had blossomed with intrigue. Could it be love? Mom smiled and offered a weak but musical giggle. “Burt, you’re embarrassing me.”
“I don’t know why you’re uncomfortable, Mary. We’ve come into the circle. Friends and family discuss such things. Be honest like Caroline said.”
“Yes, Burt, and good of you for heeding my call for frankness.” Caroline took her seat. “But this is my circle, my programming, and the conversation should focus on the couple.” She smothered a laugh. “Parents do have marital relations.” She shook her head, coughing a breath. “Which is why, in part, that Burt and Mary’s marriage has lasted so long.”
Claire shook her head. Mortified.
After she’d contained herself, Caroline gave them instructions. “However, we’re here to address the issues in Peter and Claire’s relationship.” Caroline stretched forward and placed an aged, pale green bottle in the center of a small wooden platform. “Most of you understand the basics of this game. The bottle will spin, and when it points at you, you must do one of three things. Ask a question of the past, present a question of the future, or…tell an outright lie. Now, this is not the time for silliness or juvenile questions. We’re adults; the lie must have a point. Teach a lesson in some way.”
“A lie?” Claire said. “This is not the way we played spin the bottle.”
“You were hoping for a kiss?” Caroline asked, her lips rising with her humor. “Regardless, your lie should be convincing. It must have a point for the couple.”
“I don’t know what to do,” Laina said, rubbing her knee.
“You’re an actress, make something up. Shall we begin?”
No one responded. Caroline approached the bottle, knelt beside it, and then gave it a good spin. Everyone seemed frightened, worried that they’d be the first to face the testing, but it didn’t take long for the bottle to stop spinning. Its neck pointed at Anne. She smiled that type of smirk that caused Claire’s stomach to tighten.
What would Anne say? She placed her wine glass on the round table. “I’m not sure I believe that a man can change his ways once he’s broken a woman’s heart.”
“No lectures,” Caroline said.
“Okay, I’ll get right to the point. How can Claire trust this man when he won’t sleep in the same bed and may have...”
“If you’re suggesting I’ve been unfaithful,” Peter said, his tone irritated, “you couldn’t be more wrong.”
“I meant to add that once a question has been asked, each person can only make one comment, but for this round, I’ll give you two opportunities to have your say, Peter.”
He nodded.
“How does Anne’s statement make you feel, Claire?”
“Disappointed. I know Anne is only trying to protect me, but Peter and I have spoken about the situation with the other woman. He’s assured me nothing happened. I believe him.”
Laina broke the rules, grabbed the bottle, and pointed the neck in her direction, speaking into it as if it were a mic. “Do you love your wife, Peter?”
“I’ll proclaim it to all of you. I love Claire more than ever.”
The best news she’d ever heard. Her heart swelled with joy. She smiled.
Caroline took the bottle from Laina’s hand and stood it in the middle of the circle. “Okay, that was nice. I’ll spin the bottle again. I want the next person to tell a lie.”
The bottle spun across the wooden table and it struck her mother’s leg. She yelped. Claire was certain Caroline had forced the bottle in her mother’s direction on purpose. Was everyone cheating? Mary picked up the bottle as if it was a living thing, and then looked at her daughter in earnest. “The baby never died. She was born in the early morning and you named your first child Lucy, after your grandmother.”
“Mom—” Claire cried out. “Why would you bring this up?”
“If the child had lived, perhaps you wouldn’t have drawn the conclusion that the pregnancy made Peter marry you. If it had lived…”
Sarah raised her hand. “Lucy would have carried on the traditions of the family, of course, working in the bakery alongside her mother and grandmother.”
“Please stop,” Claire said, holding her face in her hands.
“We can’t think of what might have been. I don’t see a point to this lie.” Burt reached for a beer and sucked on the lip as if stating a fact.
“I don’t mind talking about our first child. The name put forward gave me joy.” Peter glanced at her in a meaningful way. “We hoped to name the baby after my grandmother, after Elizabeth, or Lizzie as she was known. Doing so was important to me, as the child was mine, too, and I loved Claire even before she became pregnant.”
“I never knew that.” Mary sipped her drink, expressing her surprise.
“We never told anyone.” Claire glanced downward, staring at the table and bits of rock that surrounded it. “There was no point in voicing stories related to the child after the miscarriage. But you’re right, Mom, I’ve carried the guilt of pregnancy throughout our entire marriage.”
“This is good. Not quite the way I planned for our discussion to go, but life has its twists and turns. Mary, will you take a turn at spinning the bottle?”
Mary rose from her chair and spun the bottle. There wasn’t much muscle used in the spin, and it seemed like Claire’s mother wanted the bottle’s neck to point in the direction of her choosing, which turned out to be Peter. What happened next surprised everyone. Peter left his chair and got down on his knees. The agony on his face tore at her heartstrings. “Claire, it’s true that I gave you a hard time when you told me you were pregnant. It’s not you who should be carrying guilt, it’s I. Can you forgive me?”
“For what?”
“For not loving you as a man should. For not jumping with joy when you first told me you were carrying our child. For not taking you to the altar sooner. For ever leaving our
bed, thinking about someone else, and then committing the worst offense yet, leaving you. I should have worked harder to repair our marriage.”
“While you’re down there on your knees, this might be a good time to…”
Caroline pointed at the wisecracker. “I’ll let you know when you can speak, Burt. Please continue, Peter.”
“I’m sorry, Claire, for the hurts I have caused.”
Claire slipped to her knees. “You’re not alone in your pain. I made mistakes, too. But I never wanted material items like diamond rings or mansions, objects that only money can buy. Not even a family-owned bakery. Peter Douglas, you’re all I’ve ever wanted. My only desire is for the man I met on a hot summer day at the beach.”
He shifted the bottle out of the way and crawled closer. “I remember. You were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen. A nice smile, gorgeous legs, and…I couldn’t get up the nerve to talk to you.”
“I liked it when you called me by your pet name.”
“Turtle? Really?”
Claire giggled, crawled across the wooden table and urged the bottle aside, and then reached toward him, soon clutching his fingers. “Despite your thoughts of someone else, I love you, Peter.”
“Makes me sick to watch my friend crawling back to the man who broke her heart.”
“Look,” Burt said, staring at the circle of friends, “I didn’t come here as much for Claire as I did for Peter. This many women at a tea party makes a man uncomfortable, and I didn’t want the poor guy surrounded by a gaggle of vengeful women.”
“Burt!” Mary complained.
He raised his hand. “Hear me out, Mary. Look, I know how you women let sinful pictures roil round and round in your heads. But Peter has been faithful to his marriage and I’m here to support him.”
“My dad doesn’t have outbursts for just anyone, Peter. You and me against the world? Do you think we can muddle through, somehow?”
“I’m here,” Peter said, clutching her hand while nodding at Burt in gratitude. “I’m willing to try.”
“Take your seats, kids. It’s time to spin the bottle again.”
A Sea for Summer Page 8
