The Shadow Box(35)

So now Sallie didn’t have the yoga studio, and she didn’t have Edward. He had never replied to her text about loving him. The truth had been there all along, but she hadn’t let herself see it until yesterday on the boat: she was just a mistress to him, nothing more.

She sat immobile on her couch with Maggie, trying to meditate, counting her breaths, letting painful and unwanted thoughts pass through her mind like clouds through a blue sky, until she heard the school bus stop at the end of the driveway.

Maggie woke up, shimmying and barking with joy, and she raced outside as soon as Sallie opened the door. The kids tore off the bus, crouching to hug and pet Maggie on the house steps. Gwen scooped the Yorkie into her arms, letting Maggie kiss her face. Charlie reached up, trying to get his pets in.

“Why are you here instead of work?” Gwen asked, putting Maggie down to hug her mother. Sallie held her tight, rocking her, grabbing Charlie into the family embrace, eyes squeezed shut, afraid she couldn’t trust herself to speak and not cry.

“I wanted to be here when you got home from school today,” Sallie said, keeping her voice steady.

“Where’s Harriet?” Charlie asked, pulling out of the hug and looking around for their nanny.

“I gave her the day off,” Sallie said.

“Why?” Gwen asked. “Don’t you have meetings?”

Sallie shook her head. “No, not today,” she said.

She loved her work, but lately she had hardly been able to concentrate on it. She had used it as an excuse to see Edward. It didn’t matter what time of day: if it was early morning, before breakfast, she would say she had to drive to the design center in Boston. If she wanted to leave the house after dinner, she would invent meetings with clients who had to work all day and were only available in the evening. On Saturday afternoons, when Edward’s wife, Sloane, was out with friends, she would say she had to go fabric-wallpaper-granite-paint shopping with a customer.

But today she was home.

“I don’t like when you have to go to work,” Charlie said.

“Neither do I,” Gwen said.

“Neither do I,” Sallie said. “I’d rather be with you two. What should we do today?”

“The beach!” Charlie said.

“That’s a great idea,” Sallie said. “What do you think, Gwennie?”

“Sure,” she said.

“Grab your bathing suits, and let’s go,” Sallie said.

They climbed into the white Suburban. The cargo space was full of sample books from Clarence House and Scalamandré: a basket filled with swatches of vintage silk velvet, cashmere velvet, nacré velvet, chiffon velvet, and ciselé velvet, all in shades of white. She had long been obsessed with velvet and usually found it incredibly beautiful and sensual, but right now she felt like throwing it all away.

At the beach club, Sallie and the kids changed into their bathing suits. Maggie raced around, checking out every corner. The snack bar would open for the season in three days, for Memorial Day weekend, but for now the windows were still shuttered. Later, Sallie would take the kids to Paradise snack bar, pick up sandwiches to take home. She would let them eat ice cream in the car, before dinner.

Charlie raced down to the water’s edge, Gwen and Maggie right behind him. He was the first one in, diving into a small wave, swimming underwater for a few yards before coming up for air, sputtering and grinning, waving to make sure Sallie saw.

“Great job!” she called. They had spent every Wednesday afternoon throughout winter and spring at swimming lessons. Last summer Charlie had been afraid to put his face in the water. Now he was fearless.

“Mom, can Maggie come in with us?” Gwen asked.

“Sure,” Sallie said. “But we’ll have to stick close to shore. I’m not sure how well she can swim.”

“That’s okay. I’ll stay with her,” Gwen said.

Sallie watched her daughter lift Maggie, hold her against her chest. She walked slowly into the Sound, dipping Maggie’s paws in to let her get used to the feel of it. Gwen had been asking for a dog since she was seven; Dan and Sallie had given Maggie to her for her ninth birthday, with an agreement that Gwen would feed and walk and take care of her.

Gwen had embraced the responsibility with all her heart. She walked Maggie twice a day, helped Sallie to train Maggie to sit and come and to fetch a small ball and—knowing the family would be out on their boat a lot this summer—walk the beach, tease the waves along the tide line.

“She needs to know how to swim in case she falls overboard,” Gwen had said.

With the way Gwen took care of Maggie, Sallie thought it really unlikely the dog would ever leave the cockpit, get anywhere near the boat rails. She made a note to see if she could find a tiny Yorkie-size life jacket. There might not be time before they went out this weekend, but she and Dan made sure the kids wore PFDs on the boat—why not the dog too?

Now, standing barefoot in the warm sand, Sallie watched Gwen ease Maggie into the water. The two of them paddled around, Maggie obviously overjoyed to be near her favorite person. Charlie dived down to the bottom, came up with a strand of seaweed, held it over his head so Sallie would see. She applauded, and he dived again.

This was her real life—this moment here on the beach with her children was what Sallie lived for. How could she have been so foolish and come so close to throwing it all away? She swore she would make things better with Dan. They were good parents together. And right now, that seemed good enough.