Summer Beach Reads 5-Book Bundle: Beachcombers, Heat Wave, Moon Shell Beach, Summer House, Summer Breeze (128 page)

“Hello, everyone! We are so glad to have you all here to celebrate Anne Anderson Wheelwright’s ninetieth birthday! After dinner, there will be dancing and a few extremely brief speeches, but for now the buffet line is open, so please begin!”

The noise level changed as people flocked out of the large room into the smaller reception room to line up at the buffet tables.

“Would you like me to get you a plate?” Charlotte asked.

“I can do it.” Suzette pushed herself up off her chair.

Teddy appeared from the squeeze of bodies. Wrapping an arm around Suzette’s shoulders, he leaned forward to kiss Charlotte’s cheek. “Hey, Char. You’re looking well.”

Now that she had an opportunity to see him close up, Charlotte studied her brother before answering, “You look good, too, Teddy. Really good.” She studied his jeans, his wrinkled dirty cheap martini-glass-dancing shirt, his worn camel’s-hair blazer. There was a hole in one of the sleeves, and part of the breast pocket had come loose. “But couldn’t you have come just a little bit earlier? We didn’t get a chance to meet Suzette properly, and this must be a pretty overwhelming way for her to meet your family.”

“Don’t be such a big sister,” Teddy scolded. “
Any
way of meeting this family would be overwhelming.”

Charlotte relented. “That’s true. Well, I’m glad you’re here, Teddy. I can’t wait to have a long long talk with you, you and Suzette, about everything. What are your plans?”

“My plans?” Teddy’s grin glinted with the old mischief. “Suzette and I plan to stay at Nona’s for the summer. So you and I will have lots of time for long long talks.”

It was not the first time Helen had felt emotionally apart from the other Wheelwrights. But this was separateness of an entirely different magnitude. Everyone else was talking, laughing, gobbling up the delicious food, and tossing back the drinks, and Nona, now seated at a table enjoying her own dinner, seemed glowing and happy and right in the moment. Helen sat next to Owen, with Oliver on Owen’s right, and Suzette next to Oliver, who was trying to make conversation with the young woman. She wasn’t responding much, mostly staring down at her belly, although Helen was glad to see that she ate rapidly and finished everything on her plate. Teddy was on Suzette’s other side, with Nona on his right. The glass in his hand, a tall tumbler filled with ice, seemed to be only water. Helen had been watching and she didn’t think he’d had an alcoholic beverage yet. Teddy leaned toward Nona, chatting and laughing, and Nona glittered under his attentions. On Nona’s other side sat Charlotte, talking with her father, both of them as fascinated with each other as if they hadn’t been together for months.

What a handsome family. What a fortunate family. All this champagne, this wealth of friends, this summer evening, this celebration. Helen allowed Oliver to engage her in a lighthearted conversation about current movies; she hoped she was managing to keep her anxiety concealed.

She had believed that once her children were adults, out of college, moving forward in their own lives, she would be less burdened with worries, or that the worries would be less compelling. She had been wrong. When her eye fell on Suzette, Helen’s thoughts went wild. Was Suzette’s baby Teddy’s child? Were they really married? Had Suzette been on drugs or alcohol earlier in her pregnancy? Helen had heard heartbreaking stories of fetal alcohol syndrome. What were Teddy’s plans? How could he support a child? He’d received a small inheritance when his grandfather died, but he’d run through that already, and had nothing substantive to show for it. And Teddy had always been unstable.

She was so concerned about Teddy and this new twist in his life that her grief over Worth’s affair receded into the background, but it did not disappear. From experience, she knew how to compartmentalize her thoughts and emotions, and she thought she was doing it pretty well. But she felt as if she had been dropped from a great height. She was shattered, every cell of her being in shards and sharp pieces, and she was holding herself together with a thin layer of skin and teeth-gritting determination.

She and Worth hadn’t spoken intimately since they set foot on the island. No chance, really, not with the rest of the family slamming in and out of the house. When they arrived tonight at the yacht club, they were, as always, separated by their good familiar friends, with gossip about marriages and babies in Helen’s case and tips about the stock market in Worth’s. Helen spoke mostly with other women, Worth with other men, but occasionally Helen would glance across the room to see one of Worth’s female friends sidle up to kiss him on the cheek and, laughing, straighten his tie or take his arm. She was pretty sure none of his yacht club friends could be Sweet Cakes. But she was glad it would be Worth and Grace doing the master of ceremonies bit tonight. Helen thought that if she
tried to speak aloud she might choke on the clot of misery in her throat.

People were through eating. The waiters had cleared the plates away. From a nearby table, Grace waved at Worth, who nodded and rose. They went to the bandstand together and took turns speaking into the mike. Grace was her usual clipped bossy self—she was a good leader and a great captain of a racing boat—but it was Worth who made the crowd laugh and applaud and cheer. Helen couldn’t concentrate on his words. She was staring at Worth, thinking of his body, that elegant, healthy male body, naked with another woman.

She would have understood if Worth had had some kind of
flirtation.
Worth was sixty also, and while time had not ruined his body quite as much as it had Helen’s, he was a bit heavier, his skin was looser, and when he stood up, his knees creaked and he limped for a while, muttering “no more tennis,” although he still played. Helen often grieved—weeping, in real pain—for the loss of her youth, for the erosion of her beauty. She missed receiving the spontaneous attentions of unfamiliar men the way she once had—a wink and a grin from a man in line at the post office, a flattering flourish of the arm when a strange man held the door open for her, a double take from a man at a restaurant. And she missed the electricity of attraction that had once connected her to Worth.

But they had been married for so long: thirty-five years. They had truly grown old together. Helen had thought that the sexual passion of their marriage had been gradually replaced by deep affection, shared memories, and a sense of comradeship equal to that of old soldiers who once fought side by side in the trenches. People said that a sense of humor was important in a marriage; how many women said, “I married him because he made me laugh.” Worth still made her laugh. They still shared so much, especially their family: their children, Nona, and Grace and her clan. They shared friends.

Perhaps that was not enough for Worth. Over the past few years, banking as an industry, and the world money market, had changed enormously. He couldn’t do it all himself. He couldn’t even oversee it all himself. So his sense of self-worth might have suffered, and
his power had definitely faded. Helen could understand that he might want a fresh young woman to remind him that he was still, in all ways, virile. She did not want her husband to be unhappy, after all.

But she could not bear his infidelity.

She wondered whether Worth was
in love
with Sweet Cakes. She wondered whether he would ask for a divorce.

She realized she was wringing her hands under the table like a madwoman. But her hands were freezing cold.

People were making toasts now. Applause. Laughter. Appreciative sighs. The invisible bubble surrounding Helen set everything apart; she felt like an anthropologist surveying the rituals of a strange tribe.

The band launched into an old-fashioned Strauss waltz, that familiar lilting melody of a birthday song, and Worth stepped down from the platform, bowed to Nona, and gently helped her up from her chair. He led her to the dance floor, put one hand on her waist, and with the other took her hand in his. Slowly, with great dignity, he waltzed with his mother, who gazed up at her handsome son with adoration. With her stiff carriage, in her splendid floor-length deep blue gown, Nona looked like royalty. Helen felt bits of ice sparkle against her face. When she touched her cheeks with her fingertips, she felt tears. But that was all right, other people were weeping, too. It was a moving and wonderful sight.

After a few minutes, Kellogg stepped out onto the floor and with great ceremony tapped Worth’s shoulder. With a flourish, Worth ceded to his brother-in-law. Kellogg danced with Nona, and then Oliver cut in, and now Helen’s tears flooded down her face, to see her eldest son dance with his grandmother. Mandy’s Claus cut in, and then Mellie’s Douglas, and finally, handsomely, Teddy. By this time, Nona wasn’t so much dancing with her partners as being supported by them. Soon Worth came to her side and whispered something to Teddy, and together they helped Nona off the dance floor, to return to her seat. The music swelled. Douglas led Mellie out to dance, and Kellogg offered his hand to Grace, and Claus bowed to Mandy.

“Mother?” Teddy stood before her, holding out his hand.

She went with him to the dance floor. She had to reach up to put her arm on his shoulder. “I didn’t know you could waltz.”

His grin was wicked. “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

Well,
that
was true, she thought. She took her time replying. His skin was healthy and slightly sunburned. His blue eyes were clear. “Do you realize it’s been almost a year since I’ve seen you?”

“Well, you know, Mom, not all families are as ingrown as the Wheelwrights. I know dozens of people who don’t see their families for years at a time and still manage to be perfectly sane and productive citizens.”

Lightly, Helen asked, “What are Suzette’s parents like?” Seeing Teddy’s face grow cloudy, she hastened to add, “I mean, where do they live? What do they do? How did you and Suzette meet?”

“Why don’t you type up a questionnaire and I’ll have her fill it in.”

“Stop it, Teddy. I’m only asking normal questions any mother would ask.”

Just then, the song ended. The music stopped. People applauded, and Helen forced herself to smile gaily at the couples surrounding them.

“May I?” Oliver was there, smoothly relieving Teddy of the burden of his mother.

With a toss of his shaggy head, Teddy left the dance floor.

“Oliver to the rescue,” Helen joked.

“You spoil him, Mom; you always have, you always will,” Oliver told her.

“Oh, Oliver!” Helen bit back her words. She didn’t want to take the frustration Teddy made her feel out on her other son.

The music was faster now, a sixties rock-and-roll medley, fun for dancing, impossible for conversation. It raised the noise level in the room, so that people laughed more loudly and, it seemed, more often. Helen danced for a long time with Oliver, who was without a doubt the best dancer in the room. He moved as if he had no bones, he flowed. He was the handsomest of her three children and the most at peace with himself, Helen thought. But then Owen appeared
next to them, with Charlotte as his partner, and subtly Oliver and Owen shifted directions, so that for a little while the two men danced opposite each other, while Helen danced with her daughter. Perhaps Oliver’s aura of peacefulness was partly an act, Helen thought, and deep inside him a great discontent burned, because here at the yacht club he and his partner were not really able to dance with each other, not to a fast dance and especially not to a slow one.

The music changed. Helen started to leave the dance floor, but Lew Lowry took her arm. “Dance?” he asked. And she liked to dance, so she did. She danced all evening, with all her husband’s friends and all the husbands of her women friends. When she danced with her brother-in-law Kellogg, she felt like a piece of luggage being manhandled around the room. And both Mandy’s husband, Claus, and Mellie’s Douglas
plodded.
She’d always felt that Grace and her family had none of the charm Charlotte, Oliver, and Teddy had, but of course she, as their mother, would think that. Truly, Worth was effortlessly more attractive than his sister. Well, Worth was his mother’s favorite. He moved through life as if a red carpet were unrolling before him while the crowd stood back, eyeing him with admiration. It was the way he had been raised, really. Was Worth unfaithful to her because she didn’t smother him with idolatry like some giddy girl?

She was breathless when she returned to her place at the table. Tomorrow her back would kill her. All that weeding in Charlotte’s garden, and now all this dancing. Sipping champagne, she surveyed the room. Nearby, Charlotte was paired off with Bill Cooper. Helen looked for Miranda Fellows but didn’t see her. Bill had an appreciative grin on his face as Charlotte undulated, her arms high above her head, her gold gown swaying provocatively against her perfect slender body. Oh, my. Charlotte had had a crush on Bill when she was a girl, and it looked as if she had a crush again. Across the room, Whit Lowry leaned against a wall, trapped by a young woman who was practically crawling on top of him in her efforts to keep his attention, but Whit kept looking over at Charlotte. God, Whit Lowry was handsome! And from the way he looked at Charlotte—goodness, he was interested in her!

Helen couldn’t prevent her mind from flipping into the future: Charlotte married—to Whit or to Coop—and having children! At last, Helen would be a grandmother.

Although it was possible she’d be a grandmother in a matter of months. During dessert, she had tried talking with Suzette but found the girl unresponsive and monosyllabic. Suzette did not wear a wedding ring, but that wasn’t proof that she wasn’t married to Teddy. And marriage or not, Teddy seemed to believe there was a strong possibility that the child Suzette was carrying was his. Perhaps Teddy was ready to be a father to the child no matter whose genes it had, but Teddy was an impetuous, unreliable fellow, like a bead of mercury, gleaming like silver but rolling in all directions, never still and not always there when you needed him.

“The girl’s a gold digger.”

Helen startled, almost knocking over her water glass. She had turned her chair around so she could watch the dance floor, and Grace had swooped down next to her, dragging a chair parallel to Helen’s. Helen leaned close to her sister-in-law. “Grace, she might hear you.”