Girls of Summer(52)

“I do. Well, we did, my wife and I. We planned on having several kids. But that didn’t happen. When she died, I thought I’d move from this house, but the therapist told me it would be good for Beth to remain in a place she knew, where she felt comfortable, rather than changing her young life even more. But I had to make some kind of visible acknowledgment of Marla’s life and death, I wanted Beth to feel her mother was with her still in some way. So I turned the master bedroom into a playroom for Beth. I got rid of the bed and most of Marla’s belongings. I put Beth’s toys in the dresser and turned the closet into a dress-up space, a hiding space, storage for whatever stuffed animals she’d lost interest in. I knocked out the wall between the two rooms and built a small three-fourths wall with shelves on it holding Beth’s books and separating her bed and bedside table from the larger area so she could have her own private space. It might sound like a strange thing to do, but it worked well for her.”

“It sounds like a unique way to deal with such a major change in a child’s life. And Beth has grown into a lovely, successful young woman.”

“Thank you,” Mack said. His voice softened, his gaze settled on Lisa. “After dinner maybe you’ll come upstairs with me and I can show you the rooms.”

   Lisa said, “I’d like that,” and she knew he understood exactly what she meant.

When the roast was ready, Mack attended to unskewering it and deftly carving it on the carving board attached to the grill. He had already set the table with placemats and plates and cutlery.

“What can I do?” Lisa asked.

“Bring out the bottle of wine?”

Lisa fetched the wine and filled their glasses. Mack had broiled Brussels sprouts coated with olive oil and salt on the grill in an aluminum package, and he transferred them into a serving dish. They ate as if starving, feasting on the meal, using the bread to sop up the peppery juice of the meat.

“This is amazing,” Lisa told him. “You’ll have to stop me or I’ll eat the entire roast.”

“Oh, I’ll stop you,” Mack said with a smile. “I have other pleasures planned.”

And that did bring her to a halt. The words I haven’t, I can’t, flashed through her mind but her body strongly reminded her that she certainly could, and after they’d brought the food and dishes in and quickly put everything away, she was ready for him when he turned to face her.

“Now for dessert,” he said.

“Oh?” Her heart was pounding hard.

“What a cliché, right?” he asked. “I should have a curly pointed mustache to twirl. Ah, my pretty, want to see my etchings?”

She smiled. She thought he was as nervous about all this as she was. Mack wasn’t yet fifty, but years of manual labor had taken its toll on his beautiful body. The fourth finger of his right hand had been knocked out of line with a careless blow of someone’s hammer. He was solid and muscular—she’d studied his body thoroughly when he was working on her house—and he was beautiful, but he wasn’t young.

   But he was ten years younger than she was.

He took her hand, leading her up the stairs to the several bedrooms and baths. They passed Beth’s rooms quickly, neither in the mood for the sweetness of childhood or the turbulence of adolescence. They wanted their own particular sweetness and turbulence.

Mack’s bedroom was large but plain. A queen-sized bed with clean white sheets and a light quilt at the bottom. A modern ergonomic reading chair with a standing light behind it. A long dresser. A flat-screen television on the wall.

It wasn’t quite sunset, and the light from the two windows was an indigo blue, a kind of iridescent darkness. They stepped into the bedroom. Mack closed the bedroom door. The harsh yellow hall light vanished and they saw each other in the kinder, more romantic dusk that revealed and hid so perfectly that it was as if this light, this time of day, had been created exactly for making love.

Lisa stood still. Mack moved toward her, put his arms around her, pulled her against him, and bent to kiss her. At the kiss, they both changed, in a kind of magic, from reasonable friends to ravenous beings who had been denied what they craved for far too long. Lisa had forgotten what desire felt like—had she ever felt this?

But when Mack ran his hands down her body, Lisa pulled away. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

“Lisa—”

“Please.”

“Don’t be frightened.” Mack took a step back, giving her space.

“I’m not frightened,” Lisa said. She saw the concern in his eyes and admitted, “I’m terrified.”

And wonderfully, after a tense second, they both smiled.

“Come over here,” Mack said, patting the side of the bed. “Sit. Just sit. Let’s talk.”

   She carefully sat on the edge of the bed. “Mack, it’s not just the…sex. I haven’t been with a man since Erich. Maybe that’s odd, but it’s the truth. But it’s more than the sex. I don’t know how to explain it. I don’t know if this, whatever it is, between us, is temporary or…”

“Or permanent,” Mack finished for her.

Shocked, Lisa said, “Well, that’s a frightening word, isn’t it?”

Mack nodded. “It is.” Reaching over, he took her hand. “I guess this is happening all too fast. We’re like a couple of teenagers.”