Beach Plum Island (18 page)

In a way, then, his affair, as short-lived and painful as it was for both of them, had been a gift. Now there was a “real” reason for a separation, a divorce, where there hadn’t been one before. Ava was able to tell Mark how she had been feeling—well, not about the sex, she never told him that—and to absolve him of the betrayal. He, in turn, understood her, as he always had.

Remembering this led her to recall that first awful Christmas alone. She’d had the boys for Thanksgiving, so Mark, per their agreement, had taken them on Christmas. They’d gone to ski in Vermont, so Ava was alone on Beach Plum Island. She and the boys would celebrate Christmas the following weekend.

She was determined to put up a tree, and she had, but while unraveling the Christmas lights she’d suddenly fallen apart: there was no end to the tangled wires. She had put the Christmas tree outside instead, and made cranberry and popcorn strings to wind around its brittle branches, an offering to the cardinals and blue jays that fluttered like patriotic scarves on the snowy beach.

Ava shook her head. She had survived, and so had the boys. They were happy. Mark was doing well. They were still a family with lots of love between them. That was more than most people had.

And now, perhaps, she was about to add to their family. She had registered with the International Soundex Reunion Registry this afternoon, as she’d promised Gigi. The process hadn’t been difficult, exactly, but it had been emotionally taxing. She was having mixed feelings now about the search. Or maybe she was just tired. Either way, her energy seemed to have drained away.

“Do I really want to know the truth?” she said aloud, staring at the little one-eyed stuffed dog she’d taken from Finley’s house and put next to her computer in the kitchen.

She had run the dog through the washing machine; now its fur was white and fluffy instead of dingy and matted down, but that one eye still glared at her accusingly. It was a common enough glass eye; she wondered if the fabric store at the mall would have one to match it.

“Hey,” she yelled up the stairs, “do either of you guys want to go to the mall?”

“No!” the boys answered in unison, so she tucked the little dog into her purse and headed out to buy an eye.

This, at least, was one thing she could fix right now.

As it turned out, however, she was wrong, at least about the “right now” bit. Ava stared in frustration at the
CLOSED
sign on the fabric store. She had forgotten the mall closed at five o’clock on Sundays. She had even forgotten it was Sunday. Now what? She was hungry, but she hated eating alone in restaurants.

She sat in her car, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel and feeling lonely. She finally phoned Elaine, but Elaine’s phone went to voice mail. So did Caroline’s. Olivia answered, but she was out with a friend. There was nothing for her to do but turn around and go home to scrounge dinner.

Then, almost as if she’d willed it to, her cell phone rang as she was tucking it back into her purse. She hit the button without recognizing the number, her heart beating hard. What if the registry had already found Peter?

“Hello?”

“Ava?”

“Yes?” She didn’t recognize the man’s voice.

“It’s Simon. Simon Talbot.”

As if she knew a hundred Simons. As if there was any Simon who could unnerve her more than this one. “Oh. Hi,” she said, grinning foolishly out her windshield at the nearly empty mall parking lot. “What’s up?” She cringed, hearing herself. What was she, twelve years old?

“I know this is last-minute, but I was wondering if you might want to come to dinner at my place. I was just about to start the grill when the guy I invited to dinner bailed on me. Now I’m stuck with too much food and nobody to share it with, and I’ve been meaning to do something for you as a thank-you for being so nice to Gigi.”

Ah. A charity call, then. “You don’t have to do that,” she said.

“I know,” he said patiently. “But I want to. Will you come? The view here is spectacular. So is the service. I know it’s a bit of a drive, but I promise to make the meal worth your time. Please say you’ll join me.”

She glanced down at her outfit: her usual tank top, but at least it was a clean one, and a decent denim skirt. She’d actually had a shower this afternoon before the boys came home. She was halfway to Boston already, Ava realized. It was Sunday night, so there would be no commuter traffic.

“I can probably be there in half an hour,” she said. “I’m actually in Peabody right now.”

“Peabody?” Simon sounded amused. “Why?”

“I was trying to buy an eye,” she said, laughing. “I’ll tell you all about it when I see you. What can I bring?”

“Just you,” he said, in a way that made her hand tremble as she hung up the phone.

Simon’s condominium was in one of the long wharf buildings overlooking Boston Harbor. She gave the car to a doorman, feeling like an impostor, then made her way into the lobby and walked up to his condo on the second floor.

He opened the door and kissed her lightly on the cheek before leading her into the kitchen. The condo was the sort photographed by architectural magazines. The living room had a soaring ceiling, an exposed brick wall, and massive wooden beams. No cautious beige or white walls, either, but bright gold. The furniture was black leather and the tables were made out of bamboo with glass tops. Waist-high statues of giraffes and elephants stood scattered about the hardwood floor at the edges of the deep red Oriental carpet.

“I feel like I’m on safari,” Ava said.

Simon made a face. “The decorator got a little carried away. She was having so much fun that I didn’t have the heart to stop her. I think she felt like she had to compete with the view.”

He pointed and Ava turned around. The far wall of the living room was floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the harbor. Tonight the water lay like a sequined cape fanned beneath the dusky sky.

“Wow. I see what you mean about vertigo.”

“You get used to it after a while,” Simon said, “but you still can’t have more than two drinks, or you want to throw yourself into the water. How hungry are you?”

“As in portion size or timing?”

“Both.”

“A lot, and soon. I’ve had an exciting weekend.”

“How so?”

“The short version is that your niece, my sister, and I went on a hunt for our brother.”

Simon raised an eyebrow, his blue eyes puzzled. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“Neither did we.”

In the kitchen, Simon poured them each a glass of prosecco while Ava told him everything she knew and showed him the one-eyed dog, which Simon studied with the same deliberate attention he seemed to give to everything. “What are you feeling now that you have this information? What do you hope to find out?”

Ava frowned, turning the glass between her hands for a moment before answering. “Of course part of this is motivated by Dad dying,” she said, swallowing hard as the grief welled in her chest. “And by Mom’s death as well. This baby was part of their lives, so naturally he’s a part of ours, too.”

“What if he doesn’t want to be?” Simon asked gently. “A lot of adopted kids aren’t that keen on finding their birth parents.”

“I know.” Ava took a shaky breath. “But, even if that’s the case, I thought if I were in his shoes, I’d want to know that people cared enough to look for me, no matter how my life was going. I’d want to know why my mother gave me up, and yes, I’d want to know if I had other family anywhere.”

Simon nodded. “Fair enough. I think I’d feel the same way.”

She looked up at him gratefully. “Thanks. That helps. Anyway, we might not ever know anything.”

“But at least you’ll know you tried.”

“Yes. That’s something.” She smiled. “What smells so amazing in here?”

“Garlic roast potatoes. They’re in the oven. I was going to grill the steaks and corn.” He frowned. “Unless you’re a vegetarian? I can scramble eggs if you’d prefer.”

“Only if I can have steak on the side.”

Simon smiled at her. “Have I told you yet how happy I am to see you?”

“You’ve told me that by cooking. No need to say more.”

“All right. No more words, then.” He reached out and pulled Ava to him. His kiss was swift and hard.

She returned the kiss instinctively. Simon felt bigger, broader than she’d thought he would; he was such a tall, slender-looking man. He smelled familiar to her somehow, his musky scent just right. Ava could have stayed locked in that position all night, her skin humming, but she forced herself to step out of his arms.

Simon looked chastened. “Sorry. Did you not want me to kiss you?”

A complicated question, Ava thought. “I can’t imagine what your sister would say.”

“Katy?” Now he laughed, surprised. “Katy would be fine about it, I think. She’s afraid I’m going to die alone because I never date. And she says you’re the one responsible for helping Gigi get through the summer without falling apart.”

Ava was pleased by this. “Katy’s a lot stronger than she knows.”

“Oh yes. But I suppose that’s true of all of us, isn’t it?” Simon asked. “We blithely go along until some tree falls across the road in front of us and we have to suddenly figure out how to use a chain saw to keep going.” He began removing the steaks from their packages. “So what is it, then? Not Katy. What else?”

“Elaine,” she said simply.

“Ah. I see.”

“I’m not sure you do. Elaine seems bitchy and spoiled, but she’s not really, not on the inside. She’s really generous and loving.”

“You’re right. I don’t see her that way, so I’ll have to take your word for it. I’ve only seen her act horrible in every possible circumstance involving the people I love.”

This remark stung, but Ava knew it was true. “She’s just having trouble grieving.”

“She has a funny way of showing it.”

Ava felt her scalp prickle with irritation. It was one thing for her to find fault with Elaine, but quite another matter when other people did. Her first impulse, upon hearing Elaine criticized, was to leap to her sister’s defense. But Simon was only being honest. Ava clamped down on her temper.

“The truth is that everything is a slog right now, as we’re trying to sort through our feelings about Dad and this other sibling of ours,” she said. “My emotions are so volatile, it’s better if I don’t get involved with you.” At Simon’s pained look—God, this man’s face was an open book—Ava quickly added, “It isn’t that I don’t like you. I like you a great deal. It’s just that we, you know, can’t . . . ”

At that, Simon tipped his head back and laughed. “Can’t what?”

“You know what I mean! Get involved!” Her face was on fire now. Ava gulped some of the prosecco, hoping it would help her cool off and calm down, but the fizz went up her nose and she began to choke, her eyes watering. Simon grabbed her glass, poured her a glass of water, and gave her a damp paper towel to wipe her face.

“You’d be a good nurse,” Ava said crossly, as soon as she could speak again. “How do you always know what to do?”

“Single dad,” he said sympathetically. “Now what do you mean by ‘get involved’?”

“Have sex,” she said at once, then wished she were still choking as Simon began to laugh again.

“What?” she demanded. “Is it really so hilarious, the idea of sex with me?”

“God, no!” He scrubbed at his face with both hands. “I can’t think of anything more pleasurable than making love with you.” Now it was Simon’s turn to be embarrassed. His face had turned crimson. “Since the day we met at the service, I’ve been hoping you might feel about me the way I do about you.” He shook his head and finished removing the steaks from their package and putting them on a plate. “But now you’re making sex sound, I don’t know . . . as if sex is the first and last thing you’d expect me to want from you. Is that really what you think of me? Or is there something I’m missing here?”

“No, you’re not missing anything,” Ava said glumly. “I was just telling you that we weren’t going to have sex because I’m not ready.”

He nodded and gave her a mock-serious look with his blue eyes. “All right. You can beg me for sex tonight all you want, and I promise not to give in. Are we still on for dinner, I hope?”

“I’m starving.” She grinned. “See? There is something else I want from you besides your body.”

He smiled back and gestured for her to follow him out to the balcony, where he’d already started the grill. “Great. We’ll be sensible and well fed. Dissatisfied, maybe, but proud of our mature ability to defer gratification.”

Simon grilled the steaks and corn while Ava tended to the potatoes and salad. She felt comfortable working with him in the kitchen, just as companionable as she’d felt walking with him on the beach. They ate dinner on the small kitchen table by the windows instead of in the dining room.

Afterward they went out on the deck. Ava sat on the teak lounge chair and he took the bench beside her, both of them facing the water as they finished the bottle of wine and continued talking. A lone boat motored up the harbor, a sleek white arrow on its black surface. Simon got up at one point and brought out a pair of striped cotton blankets to drape over their shoulders, but Ava still shivered in the breeze.

“Cold?” Simon opened his blanket wide around his shoulders. “If you sit over here, you’ll be warmer.”

Ava shook her head, though her eyes were drawn to his broad chest and strong thighs beneath his jeans. “Thanks, but I’m okay. I was just thinking about the time my parents took us on a ferry to Prince Edward Island to see some of Mom’s relatives. They were French-Canadian. Most of her family stayed there; only her parents and Finley moved to Maine.”

“Did you like the ferry?”

“Loved it. I wanted the ferry to keep right on going so I could watch the world pass by while we ate meals on trays.”

“Next time, we’ll go out on my boat and I’ll serve your meal on a tray.”

“I’d like that, actually. I’ve never sailed in Boston Harbor.”

Simon offered her brandy or coffee. When she chose coffee, he made it in the kitchen and brought it out on a tray, setting it on her lap with a little bow and making Ava laugh. He sat down with his own coffee and, when he noticed her shivering again, opened his blanket. “Now are you cold? Say yes and come sit next to me!”