Authors: Lisa Jackson
Beach Season (16 page)
C
HAPTER
6
HAPTER
6
Thea’s hands were shaking as she let herself into her apartment fifteen minutes later. She felt a little sick to her stomach, but in that good way that happens when you’re so excited you think you’re just going to burst wide open.
She desperately wanted to tell someone about running into Hugh but didn’t know whom to tell. She had isolated herself to a great extent ever since she had met Mark, who had never cared for her few friends. And she had isolated herself even more so since the divorce. She could, she supposed, share her news with Alice, but then she would have to explain the whole history of her relationship with Hugh and she wasn’t at all sure she was ready to do that. She and Alice had shared one meal. That hardly made them confidantes.
Thea took her cell phone from her bag and looked down at it. She could, she supposed, call her former colleague Peggy, but Peggy had recently had her second baby and Thea hadn’t seen her since the shower. It wouldn’t be right to call with a story that wasn’t really a story. Yet. Why would Peggy care?
She could call her mother, but ... no. Thea still wasn’t feeling very charitable toward her mother, or her father. And she certainly wasn’t at all sure she could trust them, ever again. Not really. Especially after what her mother had told her in one of their unprecedented heart-to-heart conversations after the divorce. It was as if the proverbial floodgates had been opened and Gabrielle Foss, in need of atonement, had not only admitted her part in urging Thea’s disastrous marriage, but also had confessed to being pleased and relieved when her daughter had finally split from Hugh Landry all those years ago.
Thea had been shocked, bewildered. But why, she had asked. And Gabrielle Foss had explained, hesitatingly and with some embarrassment, that she and Thea’s father had feared losing their daughter, their only child, to a world in which the Fosses might be unwelcome—a world in which Thea herself might find herself miserable. Certainly, the Landrys had never invited the Fosses to dinner at their grand home nor to their elegant country club for drinks. Certainly, the families were socioeconomically incompatible. Wouldn’t it be nice, the Fosses had thought, if Thea met someone closer to her own kind, someone they might understand and recognize as one of their own.
It was a bold and courageous confession for Gabrielle Foss to have made, and she had shed many tears during the telling. But the confession had enraged Thea, who saw in her parents’ attitude a lack of respect for and belief in their daughter’s abilities. In short, she took her parents’ “fear” of the Landrys as a sign of pitiable weakness and selfishness. Months later, she was still not ready to forgive the part they had played in her romantic failures, though she wasn’t stupid or immature enough to blame what had happened with Hugh or with Mark entirely on her parents.
Thea placed the cell phone on the occasional table. There was no one to call. She would have to hug this moment to herself. What do I feel? she asked herself. “Happy” was her heart’s prompt reply. “Sad” was its next admission. She felt sad for Hugh, who had suffered a car accident that had left him needing the use of a cane.
And maybe—yes, maybe she also felt sad for herself. For what could come of her brief meeting with Hugh? They were at very different places in their lives from the places they were when they had first met. They were no longer young—not really—and they certainly were no longer innocent. They had each been through a divorce and Hugh had endured that awful car accident. Life had changed them, and maybe not for the better. To think, to hope that a new relationship would blossom at this point was absurd.
Nothing will happen between us, Thea told herself. Nothing can happen. I don’t want anything to happen; haven’t I vowed to spend the rest of my life on my own? Besides, Hugh will go back to New York in a few days and I’ll ...
Thea was caught short. She had no real answer for that question. She wondered if she would be able to stay on hiding and healing in Ogunquit if Hugh Landry left as suddenly as he had appeared. What had become a welcome near-solitude might then be a tortuous ordeal ...
Thea shook her head as if to steer it away from the ridiculous path of thought it had taken. She had shared one meal, a sandwich and a cup of tea, with Hugh, and here she was leaping ahead to disappointment and heartache.
Still, she thought, sinking into the chintz-covered armchair, if dreaming was ridiculous, certainly indulging in a walk down memory lane was normal at a time like this. Even her therapist would agree. Maybe.
During the summer before Thea’s sophomore year in high school, the Foss family had moved to a new town in order to take care of Thea’s ageing maternal grandmother. They bought a modest house with a small but full apartment in the basement, where Mrs. Wallis would reside. Thea was a nice girl but she was young and self-centered, as the young are and need to be. She remembered being so angry with her do-gooder parents for uprooting her from her old school where she had been happy. She remembered being so angry with her rotten old grandmother for not having oodles of money so she could hire someone to take care of her, instead of burdening her family and ruining her granddaughter’s entire life. She remembered being terrified to start at another school. All the other sophomores would know one another. She was sure she would be the despised new kid. She was sure she would never make friends, ever again.
But by the second or third week of school, Thea had to admit that things were not turning out half as badly as she thought they would. A few of the girls in her class had asked her to sit with them at lunch. The teachers were pretty okay, except maybe for the gym teacher, but Thea hated the whole idea of gym class, so Mr. Nelson never had had much of a chance. And then ...
She had noticed him—how could she not have?—the very first day of the semester. He was in her history class. It didn’t take a genius to see that he was one of the superpopular boys, maybe even the most popular of the entire sophomore class. He was in really good shape and he had the most beautiful brown eyes she had ever seen. He played on the football team; at the time, Thea wasn’t sure what position he played, but she sensed it was something important. Someone had whispered that he had gotten the highest overall grades in freshman year. He laughed a lot, and it was a nice sound, not mocking or harsh like the laughter of so many of the other boys. The history teacher liked him. Supposedly, he was a tutor to a troubled kid in the local grammar school.
Thea figured there was no way in the world that Hugh Landry would ever notice, let alone talk to, a girl like her. She knew she was sort of shy. She knew she had no flair for clothes like some of the other girls in the class. She had never had a boyfriend, or even a boy who was a friend. Boys were still a big mystery to her; the only example of the male sex she had ever really known was her father, and he didn’t count because he was old and part of her family. Her mother routinely told her that she was pretty, but Thea had never really believed that. Her grandmother, back when she made sense, had insisted that Thea’s eyes were “lovely” and that her hair was her “shining glory,” but grandparents were supposed to say those things, whether they were true or not. Anyway, Thea was absolutely certain that Hugh Landry was not the sort of guy who would like a girl who preferred to watch the PBS stations rather than MTV. No. Way.
The adult Thea smiled to herself. She would never, ever forget the day when Hugh first spoke to her. Mr. Black was running a bit late, so kids were wandering around the classroom, talking, laughing. All except for Thea, who was reading ahead in her textbook. She remembered suddenly becoming conscious of someone standing by the desk to her right. A boy.
“Hi,” the boy said, sliding into the desk’s chair. “I’m Hugh.”
Looking up from the open book was one of the hardest things Thea had ever done and even at the time she was amazed she had the courage to do it.
“Hi,” she had somehow managed. Her heart was fluttering. That excited, nauseous feeling overcame her. It was the first time she had ever felt anything like it.
“You’re Thea Foss, right?” he asked.
How, how, how did the most popular boy in class know her name? Thea could only nod.
“Must be tough being the new kid. Are you adjusting okay?” Hugh was looking intently at her, an expression of kindness and sympathy on his face. It looked very real.
“Yes,” Thea had said. “Thanks.”
“Good. Hey, I was wondering if you want to grab some pizza after school today. I mean, if you don’t have to get right home or anything ...”
Thea tensed. For one sick moment she thought that this was a cruel joke, cooked up by some of the cool girls in the class, a joke meant to humiliate her. “Oh ...” she said. “Uh ...”
Hugh immediately began to slide out of the chair. “It’s okay if you can’t. It’s just that ... I thought that maybe ...”
“Sure,” she blurted, pained by the look of disappointment on his face. That look could not be faked. She believed that he really wanted to get pizza with her. “Okay.”
Hugh’s smile returned in megawatts and he got up from the chair next to hers. “Great. Meet you out front after school, okay?”
And that, Thea reflected, had been that. The beginning of a relationship that still ranked as the most important one in her life to date. Her marriage had been a farce; that much was clear. Thea still couldn’t give herself an adequate reason for having married Mark Marais. Her poor judgment didn’t excuse him for his sins, but still ...
Thea pushed herself out of the chair. No, she told herself firmly. She would not think about Mark tonight, not when such a potentially wonderful time awaited her with the man who had been the love of her life. Even if this dinner marked the end of their brief reunion, she would enjoy it for the time it lasted. At least, she would try.
C
HAPTER
7
HAPTER
7
Hugh was already at the restaurant when Thea arrived. Hugh had always been punctual, she remembered, and sometimes less than perfectly patient when she made them late for a movie. She had had a tendency to dawdle when it was least appropriate. It was a bad habit that age and effort had corrected.
They greeted each other a bit shyly. Hugh was wearing a dark blue Oxford shirt rolled up at the sleeves and tucked into slightly worn black jeans. You couldn’t say that Hugh cared much for fashion, which was only one of the many things he and Thea shared in common, but he had an instinct for dressing well and for the occasion. Nothing flashy, nothing nerdy, just basic male attire that somehow managed to make him stand out against the more trendily dressed guys and all those men who seemed to think that a baseball cap was a necessary accessory at all times.
Thea had not expected she would be enjoying a social life in Ogunquit so she hadn’t packed any clothing that could remotely be considered, as her mother would say, “dressy.” A pair of taupe linen pants left over from her days of working in an office and a much-worn navy linen blouse would suffice tonight because they had to. She carried the only bag she had with her, the old brown leather one with worn shoulder straps. Her low-heeled sandals were black. Even Thea knew that with few exceptions one shouldn’t attempt to mix brown and black leather in one ensemble, but she just didn’t care.
The hostess led them to one of the smaller dining rooms. In spite of her resolve not to waste a thought on her ex-husband, Thea automatically scanned the room for his all-too-familiar face. When, she wondered, would she lose the habit of watchfulness and surveillance? Probably not until she forcibly broke the habit.
They were seated at a corner table. Thea was glad for the relative privacy. Hugh propped his cane against the wall behind his chair so as not to be in the waiter’s way and they ordered without much delay.
“Do you remember when my brother found out we were a couple?” Hugh asked when the waiter had gone off to place their orders. “Piers totally thought we were putting him on.”
“I guess we did seem like an odd pairing,” Thea said. “Opposites attracting. Mr. Popularity and Miss ...”
Hugh laughed. “Miss what?”
“I don’t know. Miss Shy and Studious.”
“I was studious, too,” Hugh pointed out. “And you weren’t really shy. Just—quiet.”
“More of an observer than a doer.”
“You did plenty. Just not on the football field or on the stage.”
“Yeah,” Thea said with a laugh, “my arena was the library. I rocked the card catalogue! Remember how the local library still kept an old card catalogue even after the collection went online?”
“And you were probably the only one who continued to use it.”
“Thanks to Mrs. Rabinowitz, the head librarian,” Thea said. “I guess she saw in me a final member of the old guard. Someone who actually liked using those tiny pencils to note down the call number of a book on a scrap of paper. So, how is Piers these days?”
“He’s doing really well,” Hugh said promptly. “He’s a partner in an important law firm. His wife’s pregnant with their third child.”
“Your parents must be so proud of the both of you.”
“Tell me about your parents,” he said, ignoring Thea’s comment. “Are they well?”
“Fine,” Thea said. “Nothing’s changed.” She was aware her response to his question had been dismissive, but it was all she could think of to say.
“Your grandmother was so sweet. I know she wasn’t quite all there when I knew her, but I could tell she really doted on you.”
“Yes,” Thea agreed. “I’m afraid I probably wasn’t the most doting granddaughter in return.”
“You were good to her. But you were young. Of course you had your own life to lead.”
“And you were so good to me when she died. Coming to the wake and the funeral and the cemetery. And then that awful reception back at my house. Everybody talking in hushed voices and people saying the most inane things. ‘Such a shock, Maryanne dying like that.’ She was eighty-five!”
Hugh shrugged. “Grief is puzzling to most people; nobody really knows what to say in the face of a death. Anyway, you were my girlfriend. Of course I would be there. I loved ...” He smiled a bit shyly. “I loved you.”
Loved. Past tense. Well, Thea thought, of course. “My parents appreciated it, too,” she said. “You being there.”
My parents had known Hugh was a good person, Thea reflected. They had gotten to know him as an individual, as someone apart from his family. And yet, they had hoped for the breakdown of her relationship with him for their own selfish reasons. Thea felt the anger rise in her yet again and, with some difficulty, pushed it back down.
“I thought about something when we were in the diner this afternoon,” she said. “Do you remember nacho night?”
Hugh laughed. “The summer before college, every Tuesday. Why did we pick Tuesdays?”
“I can’t remember. And I’d get extra jalapeños on the side.”
“I never knew how you could eat so many of those things and not have your head explode. Or your intestines, for that matter.”
“I’m an industrial-strength eater, as you know. And there was dessert, of course. Remember the brownie sundae?” she asked.
“Ah, youth,” Hugh said with a theatrical sigh. “The amount of calories I could put away back then and still lose weight.”
“I’m afraid I still eat like I did when I was a teen. Though I have cut down on the hot peppers.”
“Probably a good idea. Hey, do you remember that awful Halloween party we went to, I think it was junior year? Remember those costumes we rented? Sylvester and Tweetie?”
Thea shivered for effect. “How could I forget! I had a rash for over a week. And why I ever let you be Sylvester, I’ll never understand. I fell over those big yellow bird feet about a thousand times that night.”
Hugh laughed. “Yeah, that experience cured me of Halloween forever. It was such a big-deal holiday in college, but I always managed to avoid the parties. Besides, they were just out of control drunk fests.”
“Are there other kinds of drunk fests?”
“Not that I’m aware of!”
They talked about
The X-Files,
which had been Hugh’s favorite television show back in high school; it had scared Thea silly whenever she gamely tried to watch an episode with him. Hugh admitted to owning the entire series on DVD. They reminisced about the time they had gone to the aquarium in downtown Boston and then for dinner at the Union Oyster House. Thea wondered where Hugh had been when he heard the news of the World Trade Center bombing. The answer was that he was in class at Columbia, uptown. News of the disaster came from another professor and classes were immediately dismissed. Hugh wanted to know what Thea had been doing on New Year’s Eve, 1999. The answer was that she had spent it alone and at home. “You know I hate New Year’s Eve parties,” she said. What she didn’t say was that she spent the night miserable and depressed and oozing self-pity because no one had even offered an invitation that she could reject. Hugh’s family and a few select friends had been ringing in the new millennium in high style in a grand New York City hotel.
The X-Files,
which had been Hugh’s favorite television show back in high school; it had scared Thea silly whenever she gamely tried to watch an episode with him. Hugh admitted to owning the entire series on DVD. They reminisced about the time they had gone to the aquarium in downtown Boston and then for dinner at the Union Oyster House. Thea wondered where Hugh had been when he heard the news of the World Trade Center bombing. The answer was that he was in class at Columbia, uptown. News of the disaster came from another professor and classes were immediately dismissed. Hugh wanted to know what Thea had been doing on New Year’s Eve, 1999. The answer was that she had spent it alone and at home. “You know I hate New Year’s Eve parties,” she said. What she didn’t say was that she spent the night miserable and depressed and oozing self-pity because no one had even offered an invitation that she could reject. Hugh’s family and a few select friends had been ringing in the new millennium in high style in a grand New York City hotel.
At one point they ordered coffee and dessert and lingered over both. Thea glanced surreptitiously at her watch when Hugh asked the waiter for the check. It was after 10:00. Hours had simply flown by.
When the waiter returned with the check, Hugh snatched it up before Thea could reach for it. “Please,” he said, “let me pay. I’ve been through the aftermath of a divorce. Unless you’re as rich as Croesus, money will be tight, at least for a while. I’ve been back on my feet for a long time now.”
Thea had never had false pride or an overly sensitive attitude to money—unlike her parents—and she graciously accepted Hugh’s offer.
When the bill had been paid they walked out to the parking lot. It was a beautiful night; the air had a slight chill to it, a minor foretaste of fall, and the moon was distinctly visible in all its halved glory. Hugh walked with Thea to her car. She hoped he wouldn’t comment on the state of her vehicle. He didn’t.
“Good night, Thea,” Hugh said when she had unlocked the driver’s-side door. “This has been ... well, it’s been quite a day.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “It certainly has.”
“Are you busy tomorrow? Well, I’m sure you must be, at least for some of the day, but I wondered if—”
“Let’s go to the beach,” Thea blurted.
Hugh laughed. “It’s a plan. And I happen to have my bathing suit with me.”
“Me, too, though I hadn’t really expected to use it.”
Hugh then leaned down and kissed Thea’s left cheek. “Till tomorrow,” he said.
Thea was suddenly aware that if she spoke she would cry and only nodded. Hugh watched as she drove out of the parking lot, only getting into his car when Thea’s was out of sight.
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