Enchanted August (14 page)

“Okay, I am out of here. You don't really need to cover for me. I'll square it with the head of the LABs.”

“Who's the head of the LABs?”

“My mom.” Meredith grinned.

“You don't have a jacket?” The girl had on short tennis shorts and a T-shirt. No slicker, no sweatshirt. “You'll be drenched.”

“I'll dry out.” Meredith's attention was distracted by a figure in the rain coming toward the building.

“Jesus. It's that little shit, Max Cranmer. Excuse my Anglo-Saxon.”

As the figure got closer Rose recognized their own Max from the cottage.

“Max? Who does the repairs? He seems like such a low-key guy.”

Meredith was gathering her things quickly now. “So low-key that he forgot to tell his girlfriend he didn't want to see her anymore.”

Was this girl Max's ex? They didn't look like a perfect match. “It wasn't me, if that's what you're thinking. It's Kitty van Straaten. She's a wreck.” Meredith swung on her backpack. “I have to go. Don't do anything crazy with the books. This island is so fucking small sometimes. Sorry.”

She sprinted past Rose, the screen door slamming behind her.

Rose watched from the arched window as Meredith trotted through the meadow, back to the path to the ferry dock. The rain was coming down very hard now, and Rose heard the unmistakable drip of a leak in the roof. She looked up. The ceiling rafters had clearly been recently patched, and they looked watertight, but there was that drip.

She followed the sound. There was a small puddle at the far end of the building. The ceiling fan seemed to be the culprit. The area rug had been rolled away already, so this was not the first time there had been a leak in that spot. She looked around for a bucket, and found nothing till she went into the minuscule bathroom off the back of the building. It smelled none too fresh in this driving rain, and Rose remembered some talk on the ferry about the unpleasantness of having to deal with septic fields at the end of the summer. The benefits of renting, she thought.

She snagged the wastepaper basket from the bathroom, which was a repurposed five-gallon spackling drum, and placed it under the leak. That would do.

The library was hers now.

Her eyes scanned for the poetry section. Did they even have one? It was a little hard to tell how the place was organized. There were some current best sellers with their splashy covers and discount stickers, which looked as if they had been bought in bulk. All three of Fred's books were among them. Of course. She turned them facedown. Aside from that attempt at restoring the collection, there was very little that wasn't damaged, or at least wasn't in danger of being more damaged than it already was.

The screen door clattered again. “Meredith?” Rose said.

“Nope.”

It was Max, drenched to the skin.

A small frisson of desire ran through Rose. She was surprised by it. He is fifteen years younger than you, cougar. And he just dumped his girlfriend.

Max was interested in the ceiling fan, not in Rose. “Any leaks?”

“Just one that I can see,” she said. “Over in the back. I'll show you.”

He took a look. “That bucket will do for now,” he said. “We'll get the crew on it tomorrow if it's dry enough. You doing okay in Hopewell?”

“We're doing fine. Thank you for bringing in the food. It's been fantastic.”

“No problem,” he said.

“We have more people up there now. My friend Lottie's husband is there. And their little boy, Ethan. He's three.”

Max said nothing. Rose was incredibly curious about the breakup but obviously couldn't ask for details. She wished Lottie were here. Lottie was so good at asking infuriating questions that were impossible not to answer. “I just met a young woman in here,” she began. She didn't really know where she would go with this. “And—”

He got out his drill and fired it up. There would be no conversation today.

“I think that'll hold it for now,” Max said. He picked up his tools and headed out. “And in case Meredith was talking to you, Kitty was the one who dumped me.”

L
et's take Ethan on an adventure,” Jon said. “Want to do that, buddy? Want to go on an adventure with Mommy and Daddy?”

Of course Ethan was all for it. Poor guy hadn't had both Mommy and Daddy pay attention to him in a long time.

“The cottage owner has a boat,” said Lottie. “A little Whaler. We could go on a boat ride. We could get a lobster roll for lunch. What do you think of that, Ethan? A boat ride? And Daddy will let you steer with him. You can help steer the boat!”

Driving made Jon think of the long road up here, which made him think of the long drive back, which made him think of the office and his e-mail. He heaved a sigh. There was so much shit he had to do that he wasn't doing.

“You're thinking of the crap you have to do for work, I bet,” said Lottie. She always was weirdly intuitive. Jon had almost forgotten. “If you need to go into the Harbor to the library it's okay. It's really fine. Ethie and I will read books for a while.”

But the thought of hearing clients whine on the phone or explaining to the partners how he would increase revenue to meet the revised forecasts made him feel sick. Jon didn't want to do any of that.

Lottie reached for a jacket for Ethan and Jon grabbed her just the same way.

“I still have pneumonia,” he said. “Even a lawyer is allowed to be sick every once in a while. Just ask my mom.” Lottie's tits pressed up against his chest. “Still love that,” he said. “Let's go on that boat ride.”

She kissed him. “Pick out one of those life vests in the hall for Ethan,” she said, and he heard it as a request, not a demand. Maine was working on him. “I think the boat keys are here, with the blue float.” She picked a battered keychain from a nail by the door. “Robert left gas in it—”

“Robert?” asked Jon. He tried to keep the tiny edge out of his voice but he wasn't sure he had succeeded. If Lottie was horny because she'd been fucking someone else up here, or even thinking about fucking someone else, he would—

“Robert owns the cottage. Robert SanSouci. I haven't met him. Only Rose has. He seems to have a crush on her.”

Lottie swept a mess of stuff into a boat bag: sunscreen and a water bottle and a couple of blueberry corn muffins. “Beverly made these yesterday. He's a sweetheart, even if he acts mean all the time.”

The bag continued to expand under her hand. Jon ran through what he would be feeling at home in Park Slope, where everything was such a production. Were the right snacks packed in Ethan's stroller? Did they have backup juice and wipes and a fresh shirt? Was the rain gear stashed in the bag? Would a run to Trader Joe's upset his naptime? And Ethan squirming and whining the whole time.

Here, it was so different. So easy. They needed a life vest for him on the boat: there was one of every size hanging from pegs in the hallway. He might get hungry: he'd eat the muffin. No juice boxes? Try water.

“Come on, Daddy!” said Ethan.

“You bet, buddy,” said Jon. “It will be good in the boat.” Lottie slipped her hand into one of his and he took Ethan's in the other. “Let's go really fast.”

They took off down the path that led to the dock. Lottie already seemed to know everybody on the island. “Not everybody,” she said. “But there are a lot of families here. And no one is talking about what schools their kids go to. Or if they are, I don't recognize them.”

“If we lived here, we'd send Ethan to public school,” said Jon.

“If we lived here, we'd have to be filthy rich or have a family that had been smart enough to buy a place in nineteen twenty,” said Lottie.

But as Jon looked around, he started to try to think of a way. “We could live here if Caroline Dester needed a new legal team.”

Lottie nodded in that knowing way that could sometimes annoy him at home but that simply looked like wisdom here. “Caroline could need you, I'm sure,” she said, “but I wonder if that would be up your alley—Hollywood and all.”

“Who doesn't want Hollywood for an alley?” said Jon, but he'd seen other attorneys handle celebrity clients, and he was pretty certain he wasn't cut out to cater to a star. “I think she liked the look of me, though.” He grinned.

“Who wouldn't like the look of you?” said Lottie, and she grabbed his waist and gave him a smooch.

“Mommy! You have to love me,” Ethan said.

“You're right, I have to love you. Group kiss!” said Lottie. Goofy as it was, Jon didn't mind a group hug and kiss in the woods of an island in Maine. He even managed to grab Lottie's ass while he was at it.

“Oh, I didn't mean to disturb you.” Rose's soft voice cut through their group huddle. She deserved to have somebody up here to grab her ass. Jon would do it but he didn't go for the tall, strong, blond types so much. “You're not disturbing us. Want to come on our boat ride?” It was so unlike him to invite a virtual stranger to a family outing. Mostly because he never went on family outings.

“It's so gorgeous out but I'm sure you want to go on your own—”

“We need you, Rose,” Lottie said. “You're the one who almost got the engine running that night we came over. I'm bad with boats.”

“You're not bad, Mom,” said Ethan.

“Come on, Rose,” said Jon. “Let's explore the place by water. We want you to come.”

That seemed to do it. Ethan raced Lottie down to the dock. Jon and Rose followed behind.

“Look at those big boys,” said Ethan.

He was pointing to two perfectly toned, perfectly golden, sun-kissed teenagers. They had the kind of body Jon didn't have—long and lean, their skin the same color as their hair. Everything honey blond, that's how Lottie would describe them. Jon watched to see if she was paying attention to them but her eyes were on Ethan as he tottered down the ramp to their Whaler.

These kids are up here all summer, Jon thought. Lucky bastards.

The boys had the grace of dancers, the way they stepped from the surety of land to the uncertainty of water. In one gesture, they untied their boat, ripped the cord, glided out of the haul off, impatiently kept the throttle rationed till they were out of the no-wake zone, and were gone.

My little Brooklyn boy will never be so good with boats, Jon thought. He was glad he'd had all those summers of boat time at camp in New Hampshire growing up. He might not have the natural grace of a sixteen-year-old anymore, but he could get an outboard motor started with a couple of pulls. He hoped.

The boat was tied with an elegant knot—they hadn't used it since Max retrieved it from the mainland the day after they arrived. There was a sounding map in a plastic case under the bench, which was handy. Jon knew enough about these waters to know that so many rocks meant a lot of shoals. And nobody wants to run aground in another man's boat. Especially in front of wife and child.

“Get in, guys,” said Ethan, who could not step into the boat without help. Jon lifted him from Lottie's arms to his own. “Sit next to me, little guy,” he said. “You can steer once I get her started up.”

Rose stepped into the boat with surprising aptitude.

Everything smelled of hot fiberglass and gasoline, the way boats do before they're out on the water. “Let's just go and then decide where we're going,” said Jon.

“Good idea, Daddy!” said Ethan, which pierced his heart. Here goes nothing, Jon thought. He pumped the gas line, pulled out the choke, ripped the cord once, twice—and the motor caught.

“Cast us off, Lottie!” he said, triumphant.

Ethan yelled over the engine noise. “Go fast, Daddy!”

“Let me clear the dock, buddy,” said Jon, as he surprised himself by handily reversing out of the slip into the bay. “Then we'll let 'er rip!”

“Sexist pig!” said Lottie, but she didn't mean it. The Whaler had a 9.9-horsepower engine, so with the four of them it didn't pick up much speed. It was enough for Ethan, though. He was thrilled.

“Want to see what's on that little rock out there?” said Jon. He figured if he kept within the channel markers and bounded himself by the lobster buoys he wouldn't have a problem with rocks. “If a lobster boat can get in there, I can get in there, right, Ethan?”

“Right, Daddy!” Jon had forgotten how much fun it could be to spend time with his son. Who wouldn't want an echo to agree with your every word?

He hadn't been on the water like this in years, but he'd always thought he'd be a good boat captain. Okay, so they were in a twelve-foot Whaler, but he felt the call of the open ocean.

“Where are we going?” yelled Rose over the motor.

“Seals!” cried Ethan, pointing to a swell in the water.

“Take pictures, Lottie!” said Jon. “Everybody looks good on a boat.”

“I didn't bring the phone!”

“No phone!” said Jon. “Insane. I'm glad there's a chart in this boat. I think it's this way to Dorset Harbor.”

“We can go in and get some fresh caramel popcorn if we time it right,” Rose said.

“Yikes, no-wake zone.” Jon slowed the boat down fast. They were going through a narrow channel. The cottages they could see from the boat were just as generous as the ones on Little Lost.

“What's that?” cried Ethan.

“Look at that thing!” said Lottie.

Ethan, the smarty, had spotted an incongruous yet somehow perfect addition to the salty channel.

“Daddy, it's a bouncer! It's a bouncer on the water!”

For some reason, the enormous floating trampoline anchored in the channel seemed to make everything more real. “I'm going bouncing!” cried Ethan. There were three kids jumping on the thing and then off the thing, into the water.

“We'll have to ask them first,” said Lottie.

Ethan was already screaming his heart out. “Can I bounce too? Can I bounce?”

The kids must have realized the Whaler was heading straight toward them because the bouncing stopped and there was a pointed lull.

“They're big kids,” said Lottie, once they got closer and realized that these were twelve-, thirteen-, maybe fourteen-year-olds.

“They might not want to play with a little kid like me,” said Ethan, understanding at once.

“Well, they might worry that you'd get hurt,” said Rose.

“I won't get hurt!”

“Let's ask them.” Jon was damned if these little twerps wouldn't let Ethan have one bounce on their trampoline. “I'm sure they could be persuaded.” Why had he only brought credit cards, no cash? He put the motor into neutral as they came up alongside the tramp. The teenagers took in the three pale New Yorkers and a kid who was jumping out of his skin with excitement. They might turn them down just for fun.

“Oh my gosh! We wanted a kid!”

“Can we bounce him? We wanted a kid to bounce!”

The teenagers were
nice.

There was a new kind of happy on Ethan's face—an elation mixed with just the smallest bit of fear—that Jon had never seen before. He looked at Lottie to see if she was catching it and she was. She beamed at him. “I love you,” she mouthed.

“Be careful,” said Rose.

“We're good with kids,” said the chief girl. She looked competent, like a babysitter. “I'm Mackenzie. I babysit all the time.”

“I can tell,” said Lottie. “How did you get out here?”

“We swam,” said the kids in unison.

“We swim from the dock to the float,” said the chief boy. He was wearing a baseball hat featuring an unusually cute puffin. “And then we get up on the tramp.”

“And then we bounce.”

“And sometimes we bounce
into
the water.”

“That's gotta be cold,” Jon said.

“It's
freezing
!”

“You ready, dude? What's your name?”

“I'm ready! Let's go!”

“He's Ethan,” said Jon.

“I'm Jamie. Come on, Ethan!”

Ethan was ready to burst. He climbed on the trampoline.

“This is how we do it with little kids.”

There would not have been a chance in hell of Jon letting strange kids take his child even onto a swing in any playground at home. They basically didn't hire a teenage babysitter without Googling her parents and checking their apartment value on Zillow. He wasn't naive enough to think that everybody in Maine was a saint (though maybe they were) but right here, right now, Mackenzie and Jamie and the other kid were Ethan's heroes, and his, and Lottie's, and maybe even Rose's. He was helpless in the presence of Ethan's terrified, brilliant, uncontainable laugh.

“More more more!” Ethan said and the kids complied until their teeth were chattering and they'd all started feeling the cool afternoon air. “I think we better stop now, buddy,” said the other girl, Hannah. She was the most athletic of the lot. “Give Jamie his hat back.”

“Mine!” said Ethan.

“Ethan, sweetie, not yours,” Lottie said gently.

“You want to keep that hat?” asked Jamie.

“Yes!” said Ethan. “I want to!”

“Ethan,” Jon said, but without too much conviction, “that's Jamie's hat.”

“He said I could keep it.”

“I said he could keep it,” said Jamie. “It looks good on you, dude. It's my dad's, anyway.”

These kids were as sure-footed on water as they were on land. Maybe even more. They handed Ethan into the boat without the slightest hesitation. “Come back again, you guys,” said Hannah. “We like bouncing you.”

“If you need a babysitter, you can call me,” said Mackenzie. “We're on Big Lost in the cottage book. The Hills.”

“Maybe the grown-ups will get wet next time,” said Jamie. “Bring your suits.”

Lottie looked at them earnestly. “You are champs,” she said. “Thank you so much.”

“You betcha!” They all said it at once.