Girls of Summer(18)

“Did he marry again?”

“I don’t think so. I google him every so often.” She laughed. “I don’t mean to sound like a stalker.”

“You’re hardly a stalker. Erich sounds like a sociopath if he doesn’t care about his kids. No wonder you’ve never married again.”

   “I’ve hardly had time to even think about that. When the children were in middle school, I started working at Vestments, and eventually I bought the shop and turned it into Sail. I enjoy it, and it helped our lives financially—” Lisa interrupted her train of thought. “And I have plenty of money to have repairs done on the house.”

“It’s a big house,” Mack said. “Especially for one person.”

“True. But Juliet comes home for holidays and for a week or two in the summer. Theo’s in California, so he doesn’t come that often.”

“They’re not married?”

“No. They’ve both dated, of course, but they’re old enough now, twenty-seven and twenty-five, so I assume they haven’t met the right person.”

“You think there is a right person for everyone?”

Lisa cocked her head, looking at Mack. “I do.”

“So do I,” Mack said, and he held her gaze until they both blushed.

She had to break the spell or he’d think that she thought he wanted to kiss her, and that couldn’t be right, not when he was looking at her with the sun on her imperfect and ten-years-older face. “Would you like some grapes?” she asked, holding out a stem.

“Um, sure,” he said.

They ate grapes and gazed at the sea. After a while, they walked down the empty beach, away from the seals and Great Point. They trudged through deep sand up to the Great Point Lighthouse, the high stone tower casting an arrow of shadow over the marsh grass and wild roses. They half-slid down a sand dune to the ocean and watched the light change over the water.

“We should get back,” Lisa said.

As they lifted and carried the basket, the blanket, and the cooler back to Mack’s Jeep, Lisa was almost breathlessly aware of Mack’s masculinity. His strong legs. His muscular arms. His hands, so much bigger and rougher than her own. His hair, slightly brown, slightly blond, was thick and slightly shaggy, which made him look even younger.

   She needed to have her hair styled. She needed a manicure—and a pedicure, because summer was coming. She needed to lose ten pounds.

She needed to get real.

They made the bumpy ride back over the soft sand to the hard sand road and finally out to the blacktop. They didn’t talk, but that was only natural. It was difficult to have a conversation while bumping over the sandy ruts. Lisa was grateful for the silence. She felt they were returning to normal, to just friends.

Mack stopped at the air pumps to fill his tires to the right pressure.

As he got back into his truck, he said, “I worry about Beth.”

Lisa glanced at him. “You do?”

“Yeah. She’s twenty-five and she’s never brought home a guy for me to meet.”

“Maybe she’s been seeing guys she doesn’t want you to meet,” Lisa suggested with a smile.

“Maybe. But I’m afraid I haven’t given her a good example of what a relationship should be like. What a marriage should be like.”

Lisa nodded. “I know what you mean. I worry, too.”

“Do you think it ever stops? The worrying?” Mack asked.

“No. I don’t think it ever stops,” Lisa replied. “It’s hard work, loving someone. But it’s what makes life worth living.”

Mack glanced over at Lisa with a smile. “True. And sometimes it can be a lot of fun.”

And there it was again, the heat between them. The connection.

When they came to her house, he helped her carry her beach bag of leftover cookies and beer to the kitchen door.

“Thanks for the lovely afternoon,” Lisa told him. “I feel like summer’s almost here.” Bashfully, she added, “I think you got some sun.”

   “So did you. Right here.” He touched her cheek and Lisa almost fainted.

“Looks good on you,” Mack said. “So, um, work tomorrow. I’ll see you first thing.”

“Yes, tomorrow,” Lisa agreed.





four


Monday morning Lisa was in her bedroom trying to decide what to wear. Something casual and dignified, but sexy. Was that combination even possible? She wanted to crawl back in bed, curl up in the covers, and read. But already she heard Dave and Tom stomping around downstairs, tuning their radio to a rock station.

A knock sounded loudly at her bedroom door.

Lisa usually wore a long T-shirt to bed, which was what she was wearing now. She had no bra on. No shoes, no makeup, and she hadn’t dealt with her hair. She reached for her red silk kimono. It would do for a cover-up.

“Come in,” she called as she tied the sash.

Mack stuck his head in. “Good morning.” He wore carpenter’s pants and a flannel shirt.

“Good morning.”

“I’ve brought coffee.”

   “Oh, thank you.”

Mack entered the room. “Can we talk a moment?” he asked as he handed her a to-go cup.