The Summer of Good Intentions (12 page)

“Tim,” she began, then hesitated. How on earth could she broach the subject? Did she really want to confess her history with Cole? Would it help things or only make it worse between them? If she didn't tell but got her husband back, would the ends justify the means? She weighed the various scenarios in her head while Tim kissed her gently, then, gradually, more forcefully.

“Hey, you didn't answer,” he whispered.

It was an old game they used to play after they'd had a knockdown fight, usually over a girl whom Tim had flirted with. Funny how times had changed. Jess's answer was always the same: “Yep, the best part is that you admit I was right.”

“You got it,” he said. He squeezed her and rested his head next to hers. Jess waited. His arm, wrapped around her, grew heavy. And then the sound of her husband's snoring drifted across the twisted sheets.

Jess listened to the night. She could hear the crickets singing outside the window. Someone in the kids' bedroom rolled over, causing the bed to squeak. Beyond the open window, the waves rolled in and out, in and out. She lay there for a few minutes, thinking not of her husband but of a man ninety miles away. A small tear slipped down her cheek, the salt stinging her pinked skin.
What was she going to do?

On Saturday at the stroke of noon, Gloria arrived, riding in on a wave of perfume. Colorful gift bags with tufts of tissue paper fanning out from the tops dangled from her hands. Virgie couldn't help but think all that was missing was an entourage. Well, there
was
one person who followed on her mother's heels, she saw now: a handsome Latino man, who appeared delighted to be carrying their mother's bags.

“My darling, Virginia,” her mother exclaimed as she came up the walkway and kissed Virgie on both cheeks in a cloud of gardenia perfume. “It's been
forever
since I've seen you. How
are
you?”

Gloria had a way of making a person feel as if she really had been missing her, a feeling soon eclipsed by the realization that she handed out this greeting to everyone she saw. Virgie turned her head to receive her mother's kisses, then peered over her shoulder to better focus on her companion.

“Gio, meet Virginia, my baby,” her mom announced with a flash of pride. “She's the news reporter.”

“Ah, Virginia. Virgie, yes? I've heard so much about you.”

Virgie smiled. “Only good things, I hope.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Gio said hurriedly, taking her hand and kissing it. “But you don't look like a baby to me.” He winked and Virgie thought,
Gross.
Her mother's boyfriend hitting on her? But that was ridiculous. Even if Gio was young for Gloria, he was no spring chicken. If Virgie had to guess, she'd say he was in his mid to late fifties. He was dressed in neatly pressed navy shorts, brown loafers and little white socks, and a pink golf shirt. A small gold chain looped around his neck. She supposed this was the way men of a certain generation handled themselves. She supposed it was debonair.

“Nice to meet you.” She ushered them into the hallway, and this time got hit by a blast of cologne. Gloria and Gio set down their bags as Maggie rushed in from the kitchen, still clutching a dish towel.

“I thought I heard someone!” she exclaimed. “Mom!” She gave Gloria a once-over. “You look . . . radiant,” she said finally and hugged her.

“Oh, honey, you've always been such a good liar,” Gloria said, but her face beamed as she pulled away.

“And you must be Gio.” Maggie extended her hand. Her sister was always good with names, not that any of them would have trouble remembering their mother's boyfriend's name. But it was more than that. Maggie made everyone feel welcome, no matter what she might be thinking. Virgie knew her big sister was less than pleased to have Gloria and her lover here the same week as their father. Even if Gloria was staying at a bed-and-breakfast fifteen minutes away. But she'd never guess it to look at her sister. Maggie's blond hair was pulled up in a loose ponytail. Her cheeks shimmered with a light pink. Her tanned face was relaxed, happy, as if she'd been waiting her whole life to meet Gio.

“A pleasure, my dear.” Gio took her hand and kissed it.

“My kittens!” Gloria squealed all of a sudden, the grandchildren running in and collapsing in a heap around her. For some strange reason Virgie couldn't recall, her mom insisted on calling her grandkids kittens. “Look at you all! You're just gorgeous, girls! And you boys—handsome as ever.” She grabbed Teddy's face in her bejeweled hands, while he squirmed to get free.

“Come on in.” Maggie led everyone into the kitchen, where Mac welcomed his mother-in-law and Gio. Gloria set the party bags down on the table. “Can I get you something to drink?” Maggie asked. “Maybe a glass of lemonade?” She held up an ice-filled pitcher and began filling glass tumblers before anyone could answer.

“That would be lovely,” said Gio.

“Well, aren't you going to open your presents?” Gloria demanded.

“Yes!” yelled Lexie, snatching her gift from the table. Everyone knew that Gloria never visited her grandchildren empty-handed. Virgie's snarky side couldn't help but think,
Typical Gloria, co-opting her grandchildren's love with gifts.
It was small of her, but it had an element of truth to it, she thought. Ever since her mother left Arthur, Virgie had come to see Gloria as selfish, an insecure woman hungry for approval and affection. Virgie had always been closer to Arthur, but with each passing day, she felt as if Gloria pulled farther away from the family. As if she were a distant aunt coming to visit rather than Virgie's own mother, who had kissed her scraped knees and rubbed her back when she was little.

Gloria pulled a chair up to the table, and Virgie studied her more closely. Maggie was right: their mother looked radiant, even young. Instead of wearing her signature Talbots top and shorts, she was dressed in a pink Indian print shirt and a long teal skirt. Her usual mauve lipstick was missing, and her hair was held back by a twisted, bright pink head scarf. Remarkably, she'd said
nothing
about the sand the kids had tracked in on the kitchen floor in their rush to see her. Was it possible, Virgie wondered, that her mom had mellowed since she'd last seen her? Maybe had a personality change?

But when Gloria regarded Maggie and said, “Honey, you look bloated. Have you put on some weight?” Virgie realized her mother was the same as ever.

Maggie blushed beneath her pink cheeks, while Mac coughed into his hand. “Thanks, Mom. Not that I know of.”

Gloria waved her hand as if she must have been mistaken. “But you, missy”—she turned to Jess—“look positively skinny. Are you eating enough?” It was part criticism, part concern—her mother's particular brand of caring, a hug delivered with an upper right hook.

“I'm fine, Mom,” Jess said before disappearing into the other room.

“Well, I guess someone's in a happy mood.” Gloria clicked her tongue.

Virgie and Maggie exchanged glances. A guest in her own home, Gloria could still fell them like giant oaks with a quick swipe of words. It always flabbergasted Virgie when her mother seemed surprised by other people's reactions to her. Was it possible she was truly unaware? The rest of the family had been here for nearly a week, falling into its own rhythms, with tomorrow unspooling pretty much the same way as yesterday. Virgie prayed that Gloria, around whom the world seemed to orbit without ceasing, wouldn't throw everything off-kilter.

“She's fine, Mom,” Maggie said now and passed her a glass of lemonade.

Thus far, Maggie had admirably played the role of cruise director, righting the ship anytime it got rocky. In fact, Virgie thought the whole gang had done a commendable job of establishing their personal boundaries. She knew, for instance, she couldn't mention anything about microwave dinners (a staple in Virgie's diet) to Jess or she'd fly off the handle, citing the evils of preservatives. And if she asked Maggie one more time why Gloria, Gio, and Arthur couldn't all crash in the summer house together, there'd be no turning back. Mac and Tim were easier—there wasn't much that upset them unless she started talking trash about the Red Sox. But with Gloria's arrival, it was as if they'd hit a snag in the smooth fabric of summer.

“A Lego guy!” Luke shouted as he ripped open his present, piercing the momentary awkwardness.

Gloria glowed. “I
knew
you'd love it.” Gracie and Teddy let go similar squeals over their gifts. Virgie watched while Lexie and Sophie worked to rearrange their faces into something like delight as they pulled off the wrapping paper from theirs—elaborate cosmetic cases with multiple tiny drawers and trays. They were ridiculous presents for two girls who couldn't be more sports-oriented, but her nieces did an excellent job of pretending they loved them. “Thanks, Grandma,” said Lexie.

“Yeah, thanks,” repeated Sophie. “It's awesome.”

“You're so very welcome, my kittens,” Gloria cooed. “I thought you girls might be at the age where you were getting interested in boys and wanted to look pretty.”

Hug, hug, jab,
thought Virgie.

“Where's my other son-in-law?” Gloria asked now, searching the room.

“I think he went for a run,” said Jess, who had rejoined them. Virgie hadn't even noticed Tim was missing. “I'm sure . . .” Jess continued but then stopped. Virgie followed her eyes to the doorway.

There stood Arthur in the kitchen archway. He'd arrived promptly at ten this morning, and the family had already shared a breakfast of omelets and bacon. The room fell quiet while he cast about the kitchen, as if trying to get his bearings. He reminded Virgie of a bird with a broken wing in search of a place to land, and she nearly held out her arm for him.
Here,
she thought.
Land here and I'll protect you
. His thinning hair, combed carefully to the side, revealed the pink scalp underneath.

“Hello, Gloria,” he said softly and stepped forward. Her mother got up and went to embrace him.

“Arthur, how
are
you? So good to see you.”

“Fine, just fine, thanks.” He took her elbow and leaned in awkwardly to receive his ex-wife's kisses. Gio approached as well. The king of debonair just moments ago, he appeared flustered to have his flame's ex-husband in the same kitchen.

“Gio?” her dad asked now, offering his hand, while Gloria stepped back.

“Nice to meet you, Arthur.”

Maggie shot Virgie a glance as if to say,
Could this be any more awkward?
But Virgie shrugged. So long as Arthur didn't get hurt, somehow they'd have to all learn how to get along this week. The old kindergarten assessment
plays nicely with others
darted through her mind. Who would pass? Who wouldn't?

“Well,” tried Maggie, “shall we all go out on the deck?”

“Great idea.” Mac slid open the deck door and they followed him outside, where a slight breeze fought to cut the humidity.

“Ah, ocean. How I've missed you!” their mother exclaimed and plunked down in a chair. Arthur, then Gio, performed an awkward little dance before Gio settled into the chair next to their mother. Arthur sat down across from them. The noonday sun was already scorching. Virgie couldn't wait to get in the water and wondered how long she'd have to sit here and pretend to make small talk.

She could feel a bead of sweat begin to work its way down her chest. If Jackson were here, she would have whispered in his ear that she was hot, needed cooling off, and he would have jumped at her cue.
Jackson.
She let herself fantasize for a moment that he
was
here. Earlier this morning they'd traded texts:
I miss you,
he wrote.
I miss you more,
she texted back. She felt as if she was in high school all over again. What would he think of this crazy family of hers? Would he laugh with her later, tell her all families were bizarre in their own way? Maybe he had a deranged aunt or an uncle who smoked Cuban cigars. She realized she had no idea what his family was like. She'd met no one in it.

When she got back to Seattle, she'd make a point of finding out. She knew his parents lived an hour outside of Seattle. Why hadn't he introduced her yet? Was it a bad sign? She stopped herself, sipped her lemonade.
Of course not
. They'd been dating only a few weeks. She couldn't expect Jackson to have considered formal introductions yet. After all, they were still feeling out whether they liked each other.

The thing was, Virgie knew she liked him. He was funny, smart, and
kind
in a way that her previous boyfriends never were. The fact that he was a male nurse probably had something to do with it. And while the whole male nurse thing was a bit of a mystery to her (she typically dated men who were slick, quick with the pickup lines, in general,
bad
for her), she reminded herself that if Jackson hadn't been a nurse, she would have never met him.