Summer Beach Reads 5-Book Bundle: Beachcombers, Heat Wave, Moon Shell Beach, Summer House, Summer Breeze (155 page)

BOOK: Summer Beach Reads 5-Book Bundle: Beachcombers, Heat Wave, Moon Shell Beach, Summer House, Summer Breeze
12.67Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Worth’s voice tightened. “I think Suzette saw him as a meal ticket and latched on to him.”

Helen opened her mouth to disagree, then gave herself time to consider his words. “Maybe Teddy
needs
someone to latch on to him. Maybe Suzette and this baby will ground him.”

Fiercely, Worth said, “Teddy got drunk twice this summer.”

“And how many times did you sleep with Cindy this summer?” Helen shot back.

“Damn it, Helen, the two events aren’t comparable!”

“That’s true,” Helen replied softly. “Teddy didn’t break anyone’s heart when he got drunk.”

After a moment, Worth said quietly, “It breaks
my
heart to see my son drunk.”

“Because it hurts your sense of family pride? Because it embarrasses you in front of Grace and Kellogg? Because he’s showing weakness?”

“Maybe. Maybe all those. But also because it makes me think that somewhere deep inside, Teddy’s hurt. And I don’t want my son to be so terribly hurt.”

Tears stung Helen’s eyes. She pulled her robe around her, tucking it beneath her bare feet. “But, Worth,” she said, as a thought occurred to her, “the second time Teddy got drunk this summer was when he’d made a huge sale at the antiques shop and the buyers brought in some champagne to celebrate their acquisition. Perhaps Teddy is hurt inside, but hey, we’re all hurt somehow inside, right? Isn’t that just part of the human condition? Teddy’s alcoholism is also a result of his physical chemistry. He just can’t drink. Do you see what I’m saying? It’s
a problem
, but it’s not a
tragedy.

Worth was quiet for a few moments. Then he asked, keeping his voice level, “Why are you so intent on claiming Suzette’s baby as your grandchild?”

“Because Teddy’s claiming the baby as his child. Because Teddy is happier and steadier—not always sober every minute, but steadier—when he’s with Suzette. Because I’ve watched Teddy and Suzette; they are good together. Because I saw Teddy’s face when he held the baby. Because the future matters more than the past. Because I want to choose happiness. Because I want to open up my world.”

“You’re taking a big risk. You could get disappointed in any number of ways.”

“Really? Gosh, I never knew the people you love could disappoint you.”

“Helen, Teddy has always disappointed me. You know that.”

“And Teddy knows that.”

“I think Teddy was born hating me.”

“Oh, Worth, no.”

“Teddy and I have always had a difficult relationship, you know that. If I say left, Teddy turns right. If I say up, Teddy says down.”

“We’ve talked about this, Worth. Teddy had to make his own identity as the third child with perfect older siblings.”

“Yes, yes, I know. He’s the rebel in our family. But you have to admit, he takes his rebelliousness out on me more than on you or Charlotte or Oliver.” When Helen didn’t answer immediately, Worth asked, “Are you still there?”

“I’m thinking.” After a moment, Helen said, “It’s true. Teddy has always struggled against you. But you have always made it clear that he hasn’t measured up.”

“But he hasn’t! Helen, you know he’s as intelligent as the others, but he wouldn’t apply himself in school. His grades were terrible. He kept doing stupid damn things that got him kicked off sports teams and suspended from school. And he thought it was all
funny.

“That’s true,” Helen admitted. “But let’s think about the present. Let’s think about Teddy and Suzette and their baby. This is serious, Worth. Even Teddy wouldn’t claim a baby just to irritate you.”

“I’m not so sure,” Worth muttered.

“Teddy loves Suzette. He loves the baby. He’s worked steadily and done well at the antiques shop. Oh, Worth, think about this. Think about how hard you’ve tried all your life to measure up to your father. You’ve tried so hard to be your father you haven’t ever figured out how to be yourself. You need to accept yourself, warts and all, and then you need to accept Teddy and the people he loves as your own. I think that’s what Teddy wants from you.”

Worth’s next words surprised her. “Will you accept me, warts and all?”

After a pause, Helen said softly, “I don’t know, Worth. I’ll have to think about it.”

Helen kept herself busy during the day, helping Charlotte with the garden stand, rocking baby Dawn so Suzette could grab a nap, doing errands, shopping for household necessities like soap and toilet paper, and stocking the pantry and cupboards.

In her mind she carried on a conversation with her mother-in-law, one just between her and Nona.
How did you go on loving Herb after learning about his affair with Ilke?
Helen wanted to ask. Helen could understand loving the baby. Babies were helpless, innocent, lovable. The question was, how did Nona—Anne—manage to go on after learning that her husband had slept with another woman? Did she ever trust Herb again?

It had been wartime. Of course that made an enormous difference. And, Helen thought with a rueful smile, it probably was some help that Herb’s lover was dead. Helen didn’t wish death on Cindy, but it would be nice if the woman would move to another country.

When Worth phoned that night, he said, “I feel like my entire world has fallen apart. I don’t know who I am. I don’t know where I’ve come from. And I don’t know who the baby—”

“Her name is Dawn,” Helen reminded him.

“—Dawn is. I keep wondering how I can accept the baby—Dawn—as my own grandchild.”

“Perhaps it will help to remember how Nona accepted you.”

Worth coughed, or choked, or, perhaps, sobbed. “How could she do that? How could she have loved me?”

“She just did. She always loved you. Worth, think about it. Did you ever feel that she didn’t love you? You know you never once felt that way. If anything, you always thought she loved you more than she loved Grace.”

“I know. I know.” He sounded hurt and lost and miserable. After a long silence, he said, “I want to accept this baby. But I can’t do it without you.”

This
was what she wanted to hear. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to trust him. “How do I know you won’t have another affair?”

Worth’s voice was urgent. “Because I won’t. I promise.”

Helen felt as if she were picking her way carefully through a dark maze of thorns and roses as she spoke her thoughts aloud, coming fresh to her realization. “So we both have to choose. We have to choose faith over doubt and trust over suspicion.”

“Yes,” Worth said. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

“We have to choose love over fear,” Helen said.

“Yes.” Worth’s voice grew stronger. “I can do that. Can you?”

“I
want
to do it.” She was surprised at how hope broke open inside her like a radiance, softening her sorrow and anger. Perhaps all along she had been hiding from herself just how much she wanted to remain with her husband. “Yes, I
can
do it.”

“Thank God,” Worth said. He cleared his throat. “Look, Helen, I’ve got to take care of some matters at the bank tomorrow. But I’ll come to the island Tuesday, probably afternoon, as soon as I can get away. “All right?”

“All right,” Helen replied.

“Helen,” Worth said, and then she heard him draw in a deep breath, and when he spoke again, his voice was clear and strong. “I’m coming back to see you, and my mother, and my granddaughter.”

“Oh, Worth,” Helen replied, and for a while she couldn’t speak because of the tears that fell. But she held on to the phone, and in the silence she knew that Worth was there, too, connected to her still, connected to her again, through the mysterious elements of air and electricity and the even more mysterious magic of love.

Twenty-seven

Charlotte felt like a volcano just below boiling point, or a hurricane picking up speed, and she tried to use the energy her emotions generated to fuel her work. She
was
working hard in her garden, but for once the good hard physical labor would not calm her buzzing thoughts. Every night she tossed and turned, waking exhausted and cranky. She told Coop she was too busy and tired to see him and stayed until dark in her garden, even though people were beginning to leave the island as the summer slowly drew to an end.

Perhaps it was anxiety about Nona, Charlotte thought, that was keeping her on edge. Nona didn’t leave her room all week, and when Charlotte slipped in to say hello, she found her grandmother looking especially old and withered and tired.

Perhaps it was just the heat, as Nona claimed. The late August weather was thick, humid, scorching.

But no, Charlotte thought, as she automatically filled a basket with plum tomatoes for the garden stand, it was more than the weather. She didn’t feel good about Coop. Things were just too
blurry
with him. He was irresistible, he was sexy and funny and lovable. But she didn’t trust him, and she didn’t like herself when she was with him. She needed to pay attention to those feelings.

And she was worried about her parents. It was Monday. Her father had been gone over a week. Her mother said he was in Boston, dealing with yet another crisis at the bank, but always before, every summer, he had spent weekends on the island. He loved his carefree weekends; he always said he
needed
them. She loved her father so much, but she loved her mother, too, and she loved Teddy, even though she wanted to shake some sense into him—but she’d always felt that way.

She lugged her baskets of fresh veggies over to the farm stand and set them out. All the lettuce was already gone; she would have to pick more. But first, she had to grab something to eat. And perhaps take a quick swim to cool off.

When she entered the kitchen, she found her mother there, tossing an enormous salad.

“Oh, good,” Helen said. “You can join us for lunch! Look.” She pointed with her wooden spoon. “I’ve made my own version of a Cobb salad, with lobster instead of chicken.”

“Wonderful.” Charlotte grabbed a drink and followed her mother into the living room, where Suzette reclined on the sofa with her baby in her arms.

“Lunch,” Helen announced. “I’ll hold Dawn while you eat.”

“Thanks.” Suzette lifted the infant high. Helen bent to hold her and settled in the corner of the sofa, gazing down.

Charlotte set Suzette’s plate in her lap. For a while the three women talked lazily about the heat of the day, Dawn’s sleeping patterns, Charlotte’s garden.

Charlotte ran an appraising eye over Suzette. “You’re looking good, Suzette. How are you feeling?”

“I’m tired,” Suzette told her, “but also sort of euphoric. High and dizzy and mellow all at the same time.”

Charlotte’s food lost its taste. She glanced at Helen to see if her mother thought what she thought—that Suzette’s description sounded a bit druggy.

Suzette caught the change in Charlotte. She put her food down and wriggled on the sofa, facing Helen and Charlotte. “Okay. I think it’s time I told you some things.”

Charlotte’s mother shook her head. “Don’t feel you have to. You don’t—”

Charlotte interrupted her mother. “Tell us.”

Suzette took a deep breath. “Yes, I used to do drugs. Pot and hash and some cocaine. Oh, and alcohol, of course. But I haven’t done drugs for years.”

“For
years
? But you’re so young! How old were you went you started?” Helen looked dismayed.

Suzette lifted her chin defiantly. Speaking carefully, she said, “I was twelve when I started drinking and fourteen when I first smoked pot. But I had a lot of clean months and years. Most of the time I’ve been clean.”

“Oh,
honey.
” Tears welled in Helen’s eyes.

Suzette leaned toward Helen. “I haven’t had a drink for years. I haven’t done drugs for years.
Look
at Dawn. She’s fine.” She ran her hands through her hair, then began again.

“My father left home when I was a child, and I have no idea where he is. My mother—drank. She had a hard time raising me, and I was alone in the apartment a lot, and I never had the advantages Teddy had. I could have gone to college—I mean, my grades were good enough—but the year I graduated from high school my mother died, so I had to go to work. I had one really bad year, the year my mom died, and I drank and did drugs, and I was not a pretty sight. But I joined AA, and I got cleaned up, and I stayed clean for three years, and then I met Teddy.”

“I’m so glad,” Helen said softly, gazing down at the infant in her arms.

Charlotte asked, “Are you and Teddy married?”

Suzette cast her eyes down. Quietly, she said, “No.”

“No?” Helen looked stunned.

“Look. Let me explain.” Suzette clasped her hands together in her lap and sat up straight, as if she were applying for a job. “I got to know Teddy through AA meetings, so I’ve heard Teddy talk about his
family over and over again. Teddy’s problems start right here, with his family.”

“Oh, please,” Charlotte protested. “We’re not monsters!”

“I didn’t say you were. I’m just saying that Teddy doesn’t think he can measure up to the rest of you. He thinks you’re all so perfect. Oliver is brilliant, and Charlotte has made such a home in the middle of the family here on Nona’s land, and Teddy’s father and uncle work in the bank, and so do Mandy and Mellie’s husbands, and all those men do everything right.” She glanced at Helen. “Teddy thinks you love Oliver best, and Charlotte, he thinks his father loves you best.”

Helen shook her head. “That’s not true!”

“Well, Teddy thinks it’s true, he
feels
it’s true. And I fell in love with
Teddy
, but I wasn’t sure I could deal with everything else. With all you Wheelwrights. He is so—what’s the term psychologists use—wrapped up?”

Charlotte supplied the word. “Enmeshed.”

“Right. Teddy’s so enmeshed with his family.”

Helen interrupted, “But that’s what families are all about! Being enmeshed! Being a messy, snarled, confusing cluster of people, people you love the most and hate the most sometimes, too.”

Suzette said, “Okay. I agree. But it took me a long time to escape from my own snarled cluster. I wasn’t sure I wanted to take on another train wreck.”

“You see us as
a train wreck?
” Charlotte demanded.

Other books

Type by Alicia Hendley
The Big Crunch by Pete Hautman
Coming Clean by C. L. Parker
Take Me by Locklyn Marx
Call Me Jane by Anthea Carson
The Villa Triste by Lucretia Grindle