Summer House (47 page)

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Authors: Nancy Thayer

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BOOK: Summer House
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“Will we?” She couldn’t breathe.

He took her face in both his hands and tilted it toward his. He put his mouth on hers, gently, his lips open, and she could feel the warmth and stirring of his breath. She put her hands on his chest. Beneath his shirt, his heart was racing, and this gave her courage. It meant as much to him, then, as it did to her. He was not faking it, trying to please his father by joining the two families. Right now he wanted her, and everything about him assured her that his desire was real and urgent.

Together they lay down on the bed, pressing their bodies together. She put her hands on his shoulders, on his back, and slid her hands down inside his shorts. He drew a sharp breath.

“Perhaps we should wait,” Whit said.

“Perhaps we shouldn’t,” Charlotte answered, attempting to sound light but really sounding almost desperate as she unzipped her shorts and wrestled her body out of them.

Whit hooked his thumbs in his shorts and yanked them and his boxer shorts off. He moved above Charlotte, bearing his weight on
his elbows, his legs pressed against her legs, his long penis resting against her belly and thighs.

“I don’t have any condoms,” he whispered.

Charlotte smiled. “That’s okay,” she told him. “My mother wants lots of grandchildren.”

Whit smiled back. “So does mine.”

Thirty

N
ona awoke
with a start. She’d been dreaming she was in a hot-air balloon, drifting above the island, gazing down at her family and the house and the serene blue water.

But something had changed. Looking around, she saw the terrace, littered with leaves. Light flooded down on the slates outside the house, brightening the living room as never before. It was late afternoon.

One of the landscapers, a rugged tall man with burnt cinnamon skin, came to the French door, opened it, and leaned in. His entire body was plastered with small privet leaves.

“Mrs. Wheelwright?” he said. “We couldn’t get it all done today. We’ll be back tomorrow morning about seven. Should be able to finish it then.”

“That’s wonderful, Carl.” Nona raised her hand in a kind of wave. “Thank you.” She lifted the earmuffs off her head, flinching as they got caught in her hair.

Helen came into the room. “Nona. you’re awake.”

“Hello, dear. Where is everyone?”

“Let’s see. Grace and her crew have gone off to the yacht club for dinner.”

“I didn’t know they were planning that.” Nona shoved and wrestled her body around, trying to organize herself into a standing position. “Would you mind helping me to the bathroom?”

Helen came to her side and let Nona lean on her as they slowly shuffled along. “I don’t think they planned to go out, but Grace felt she needed a change of scenery.”

“Grace will be okay once the hedges are all down and we can put in new plantings,” Nona said. “Where’s Charlotte?”

“Charlotte and Whit are down on the beach. Charlotte and Whit have set up a casual picnic dinner there.”

Nona stopped still. She peered at Helen. “Charlotte and Whit, did you say?”

Helen smiled. “Charlotte and Whit.”

“Let’s not get our hopes up,” Nona advised.

“Wait until you see them together,” Helen answered smugly.

Nona shuffled into the bathroom, used the toilet, and washed her hands. Looking in the mirror, she saw that her hair had come out of the chignon and flew about her head in wisps. She tried to pat it back in place, then made a face at herself—funny old self, she could not believe she was so old!—and went back out into the hall where Helen was waiting.

“Has Glorious left?” she asked Helen.

“She has. Big date night for her.”

“And the others?”

“Suzette’s at the beach and Dawn is sleeping in a little wicker basket, like a baby from a fairy tale.”

“And Worth?”

“He’s down there, too. He carried Dawn down, in fact.”

Nona looked at Helen. “He did?”

Helen smiled. “He did.”

“Where’s Teddy?”

“He’s catching a ride home with a friend. He’ll be here any time. He knows we’re down at the beach.”

“Well, then, let’s go.”

Nona surrendered some of her pride and allowed herself to lean heavily on her daughter-in-law as they progressed through the house, out the doors, and onto the lawn.

The heat of the day had diminished, and the air was clear and sweet. The groomed lawn was soft beneath Nona’s feet, and birds called and flew among the trees that bordered the land.

“I’d almost forgotten how lovely it is out here,” Nona said.

Helen kept a firm arm around Nona’s waist and held Nona’s hand with her own. They arrived at the strip of sand shaped by the wind into low dunes. Tall narrow blades of beach grass grew in the dunes, and wild roses twined everywhere in lush profusion. The perfume was heavenly.

“Stop a moment,” Nona told Helen. “Let me just breathe.”

Helen waited, staring out at the water, until Nona said, “All right, dear. I’d better sit down.”

It was only a few more feet, and then they were on the beach.

Charlotte and Whit were at the water’s edge, squatting in the sand, whispering and laughing softly as they compared shells. Suzette was ensconced in one of the new clever canvas chairs that had arms with a cup holder and a little platform where she could rest her legs.

Worth sat in a beach chair, holding Dawn, wrapped in several light blankets, in his arms.

“My, it looks like a party,” Nona said, as she sank gratefully into a beach chair.

“It
is
a party,” Suzette agreed. “Look at all the food Glorious made.”

Nona accepted a glass of wine and a plate of cheese and crackers and sliced vegetables from Helen, who poured herself a glass of wine and sat cross-legged next to Worth’s chair. Nona sipped the wine and felt remarkably content with life.

“Look at the water,” Helen said. “It’s as still as glass.”

They all gazed out at the harbor. A few sailboats drifted idly in the distance, and a kayak sliced a white trail.

“The silence is lovely,” Helen said.

“Yeah,” Suzette agreed. “What a lot of noise those saws made. But Dawn just slept through it all.”

“Babies can do that.” Leaning over, Helen looked at her granddaughter. “She’s so beautiful.”

Nona said, “Her head comes to a point.”

“Nona!” Helen was shocked. “How can you say that?”

Nona said, “Her head comes to a point and she’s beautiful.”

“Hello, everyone!”

Nona turned to look. Teddy was striding down the lawn, undoing his tie as he walked.

“Oh, good, drinks on the beach. Heaven.” Teddy squatted down in front of Nona and put a hand on each arm of her chair. “Nona, I think taking the hedge down is a brilliant idea. It’s going to look great.”

“I’m so glad you think so.” Reaching out, she caressed Teddy’s cheek. How she loved this man, her second grandson.

Teddy stood up and walked to the drinks table. Nona forced herself not to look, but she couldn’t help it; she peeked, and from the periphery of her vision she saw Teddy pour himself a glass of sparkling water.

Teddy said, “Hey, Dad, let’s go for a walk. I’ve got some things to tell you.”

Worth raised an eyebrow, then said, “Okay.” Carefully he handed the baby to Suzette. He bent and removed his loafers.

Teddy kicked off his shoes. He and his father walked away, along the sloping beach. Helen brought her knees to her chest and hugged them.

“Summer’s almost over,” Suzette said, gazing out at the water.

“And fall is about to begin,” Nona said.

“Some days it’s as if life is just starting, brand new,” Helen observed.

“Well, it is,” Nona agreed. “Every day.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

NANCY THAYER is the
New York Times
bestselling author of
Moon Shell Beach, The Hot Flash Club, The Hot Flash Club Strikes Again, Hot Flash Holidays, The Hot Flash Club Chills Out
, and
Between Husbands and Friends.
She lives on Nantucket.

 

 

a cognizant original v5 release october 08 2010

 

 

 

 

Summer House
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2009 by Nancy Thayer

All rights reserved.

Published in the United States by Ballantine Books,
an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group,
a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

BALLANTINE and colophon are registered trademarks
of Random House, Inc.

eISBN: 978-0-345-51521-6

www.ballantinebooks.com

v3.0

Table of Contents

Acknowledgments

Early Summer

One

Two

1943

Three

Arrival

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Nona’s Party

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

1943

Twelve

Thirteen

family Meeting

Fourteen

1943–1944

Fifteen

Oliver’s Wedding

Sixteen

Seventeen

1945

Summer

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

1945–1946

Twenty-one

Birth

Twenty-two

Twenty-three

January 1946

Twenty-four

Twenty-five

Confessions

Twenty-six

Twenty-seven

Twenty-eight

Full Bloom

Twenty-nine

Thirty

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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