Girls of Summer(51)

“I think blues for the colors, don’t you?”

   Beth spun her chair over to her laptop. Juliet carried her chair over next to her. Beth was young, educated, smart, slow to anger, quick to understand, very quick to laugh. Plus she smelled good. This was more fun than working at Kazaam, Juliet decided. Beth moved back so Juliet could work, and Juliet’s fingers flew over the keys.





seventeen


Lisa closed her shop at five on the dot and hurried home. The guys were still plastering somewhere on the first floor, but she didn’t stop to say hello. Theo and Juliet weren’t around, which was a blessing. She had time to focus on herself.

She took a long hot soaking bath. When she got out, she dried carefully and spent a luxurious time rubbing creams and lotions into her skin, everywhere on her skin, bum and inner thighs as well as feet and neck. After double-checking that she’d locked the bathroom door, she dropped her towel and studied herself in the mirror.

She saw a perfectly healthy woman with a not unattractive body. She still had a waist. Her hips were larger than they once had been, but in general, she looked okay. She’d never been embarrassed when she wore a bathing suit to the beach.

   But tonight would be different. Could be different. Tonight she was going to Mack’s for dinner.

Wrapped in a towel, Lisa left the bathroom and headed for her underwear drawer. She wore ivory or black bras, with cups to conceal her nipples, wide straps for support. There wasn’t an inch of sexiness about them. And her panties! She always wore cotton for comfort, and the waistbands were stretched and the fabric was tired from hundreds of washings. And they were so huge! Lisa had never been comfortable in bikini panties. Once, years ago, she and Rachel had experimented with thongs. That had been hilarious. Why would any woman wear them? You certainly couldn’t when you had your period and in the past few menopausal years—dear God, she was in menopause! Several times, with no reason or warning whatsoever, Lisa’s period showed up and then she had to race to the bathroom for a pad.

But younger women had to deal with periods every month, Lisa thought, and felt a little better. She found an old pair of black panties to go with a black bra. She put them on and thought she needed to start doing sit-ups. Crunches. The thought of that torture was enough to make her consider, briefly, forgetting about men for the rest of her life.

Oh, she looked fine, she told herself, and no one was going to see her underwear tonight. If she had time, she’d order some new undies. With lace.

In a green sundress and sandals, she walked to Mack’s house. It felt good to stretch her legs, and it calmed her nerves to walk through this charming town, plus no one would see her car parked in front of his house.

She’d wondered what his house would look like, feel like. He was a hard worker, and from what she’d seen of his truck and the way his employees left her house at the end of the working day, she expected a tidy minimalist interior with few possessions and all of them in their appropriate places. His house was a large Cape with a simple lawn and no flowers, but his door was a cheery yellow with a brass whale for a knocker.

   “Come in,” Mack said, holding the door wide.

“Wow.” She stepped into the hall and immediately into a long open plan room serving as living room, dining room, kitchen and den.

“I knocked some walls down,” Mack told her, giving her time to look around. “Remember, I had a little girl to raise, and I wanted her to have friends over, and this way I could keep an eye on her while I cooked dinner.”

Lisa walked around the long room. The glossy wooden floors were covered with thick Persian rugs, subtly marking different areas. The walls were ivory, and bare except for a few pictures that were probably done by Beth as a child. The furniture was mix and match, inviting armchairs with soft cushions, an heirloom mahogany dining table with diverse chairs—antique wood, pale white Ikea-ish, light oak, all with non-matching quilted chair pads that made the area colorful.

The kitchen was modern. Gleaming chrome appliances, a long granite work counter, a cork floor, and the ceiling hung with a rack of copper-bottomed pans.

“Beautiful home,” she told him.

“Thanks. I thought we’d eat outside if that’s okay with you,” Mack said.

“Of course.”

Mack poured her a glass of red wine—he’d learned her preferences—and led her to the patio. It was brick, with bright blue tubs of red geraniums set around the edge. “Beth’s contribution,” Mack said. A large state-of-the-art grill stood at one side.

Mack lifted the lid to test the roast. “Hungry?”

“Very.”

“About fifteen minutes more,” Mack told her.

   They sat at a round patio table in canvas chairs next to each other, sipping a delicious pinot noir. The striped sun umbrella had been closed, and for a while they made light talk while they watched the sky change over the neighboring trees. Mack’s backyard was as plain as his front yard, simply a lawn with untamed shrubbery around the perimeter.

“I used to have a swing set here,” Mack said. “Then a large wading pool. Beth and I discussed putting in a real swimming pool, but somehow I never got around to it, and she prefers going to the beach with her friends.” He sighed. “At least she used to. She grew up so fast.”

Lisa swiveled in her chair to look up at the back of the house. “You have a large house.”