Girls of Summer(90)

“Let’s sit,” Mack suggested when they reached a bench overlooking the water.

“I can’t cuddle up to you, Mack, my wings are getting in the way,” Lisa said.

“I know. And I’m afraid if I try to kiss you, I’ll take your eye out with my plume.”

   They laughed together, holding hands.

“This is a memorable night,” Lisa said. “I’m delighted for Ryder and all the OM staff that it’s going so well.”

“Since it’s such a memorable night,” Mack said, “I think I’ll do what I’ve been meaning to do for some time.”

“Oh, yes?” Lisa turned toward Mack as far as she could in her restricting dress. She hadn’t worn it for years, not since she was young and lithe, before she gave birth. She could stand and dance in it, but if she turned too quickly while sitting down, she worried that the seams might pop.

Mack reached into his pocket. He brought out a small black velvet box. In an easy movement, he knelt on the boardwalk. “Lisa Hawley, will you marry me?” He opened the box to display a small but fiery diamond solitaire ring.

“Oh,” Lisa said. “That’s beautiful, Mack. Of course I will.”

Mack slid it onto the ring finger of her left hand and leaned up to kiss her. “Good,” he said. “Since we’ve booked the yacht club for the wedding reception in January, I thought you probably would say yes.”

“It’s beautiful,” Lisa said. “Thank you, Mack.” She turned her hand this way and that so the lights along the walk sparked fire in the stone. “I couldn’t have dreamed up the chain of events that led from my dining room ceiling to this moment where we’re sitting side by side as Captain Hook and Tinker Bell.”

“I like you as Tinker Bell,” Mack said. “Especially in that dress.”

“It’s old and too tight.”

“I know. That’s why you’re bulging so satisfyingly over the top of the dress.”

“Mack,” Lisa chided, but she was pleased. A year ago she wouldn’t have had the courage to dress like a petite green fairy. But knowing that Mack found her alluring no matter what she wore gave her a kind of freedom, a release from the restraints she’d imposed on herself because of her age. She never wanted to look like mutton dressed as lamb, or like the pathetic washed-up movie star Gloria Swanson played in Sunset Boulevard, but she found that Mack’s love allowed her to dress more playfully. Not for him—but for herself.

   “Let’s go back to the ballroom and drink more champagne,” Lisa suggested. “We should celebrate this ring.”

So they rose, and Lisa tugged the dress into submission, and Mack put his hook back on, and hand in hook, they returned to the party.

Juliet, who in her lifetime had watched scores of old musicals, had found costumes from the play South Pacific on eBay. Ryder came as a naval lieutenant, looking magnificent in his dress whites. Juliet dressed as his doomed Polynesian lover, in a flower-printed sundress with blossoms around her ankles and a lei around her neck. She was letting her hair grow long, but it hadn’t gone past her ears, so she rented a wig of long black hair. She was amazed and delighted at how the light sweep of hair over her bare shoulders lit up her senses.

“Let’s walk down to the dock,” Ryder told her when the band took an intermission.

“Sure,” Juliet said. She was slightly tipsy, not from champagne, although she’d had plenty of that, but from the evening. A party. Costumes. Friends laughing. Music. Dancing more than she had for years. Catching a glimpse of her mother gazing up at Mack as he held her in his arms during a slow ballad. Spotting her brother laughing with friends while Beth leaned possessively against his arm. Tonight they were all happy. Bad times, sad times, would come, but so would more nights like this, when they were all happy.

“You seem pensive,” Ryder said as they walked over the soft green grass to the boardwalk.

“Mmm, I’m slightly and happily intoxicated,” Juliet murmured.

They stood at the edge of the boardwalk, where wooden ramps led down to boat slips. Small sailboats and motorboats bobbed gently in the dark water, and a few burgees waved slightly in the breeze.

   “I have something for you,” Ryder said.

“Oh, yes?” Juliet stretched her arms out, yawning like a large, satisfied cat. The night could not be more beautiful, warm, and sweet.

Ryder reached into the pocket of his white uniform and took out a small box. He handed it to Juliet.

“Am I going to regret opening this?” Juliet asked suspiciously.

“I don’t think so,” Ryder told her. “And if you don’t want it, you can just toss it into the harbor.”

“Well, that’s intriguing.” Juliet opened the box. A key on a strip of black leather lay inside the box. “What’s this?”

“It’s the key to my house in Marblehead,” Ryder told her.

“Ryder, I’m not moving in with—”

Ryder interrupted. “Hear me out. If you didn’t pay rent on your Cambridge apartment, how much money would you save to put toward building your computer company? You would have your own space. I’ve shown you the suite I think you’d like, with the private bathroom and office. Greta, our housekeeper, could keep the kitchen stocked with the coffee and bagels you like so much. You could come and go as you please. We probably wouldn’t spend much time together at the house since we’ll both be traveling a lot, but now and then we can enjoy dinner together. And so on.”