Page 114 of The Book of Summer

“Can I come in?” he asks again.

Bess looks down. The strip of hardwood between them is now completely slick with rain.

“Fine,” Bess says, and ushers him inside. “Just so you know, I’m pretty pissed off.”

“Noted.”

They walk toward the living room, most of it now boxed up.

“You know what I’m thinking,” Evan says as he takes a seat beside Bess on the floral couch.

She promptly moves to the light blue settee.

“I was thinking,” he goes on, pretending not to notice the relocation, “I’m ahead on my project on Codfish. After the holiday weekend, I can bring my guys in to help with the rest of the packing. You’ve done a lot but this place still feels very… lived-in.”

“Well, yeah, because itisvery much lived-in. I’ve practically set down roots.” Bess exhales loudly. “Why didn’t you tell me about them? Good grief. Cis’s archnemesis. No wonder you thought my parents were divorced! Poor Dudley.”

“I don’t think your dad is being duped or anything.”

“So they have some sort of arrangement? Well, that’s fabulous. What a great example. I guess my divorce isn’t shameful after all.”

“Shameful?” Evan smirks. “As far as I’m concerned, your divorce is one of your better qualities.”

“Don’t be cute.”

“Listen, Bess, I thought you knew. At first. And when I realized you didn’t, I decided it wasn’t my news to tell. Our parents are entitled to their private lives, same as we are. You’ve kept a couple things from your mom.”

“So not the point.”

Bess laces her hands together and sighs. Cissy and Chappy. Always at odds, always mired in some squabble or battle of wills.You’re an asshole, you’re a bitch.And what about the restraining order? Bess isn’t the most experienced person in the world, but she knows you generally have to be within fifty yards to have sex with someone.

“So their arguments,” Bess says. “They’re a façade?”

“Hell no. They’re like a pair of not-very-mature teenagers. Breaking up, getting back together. Screaming matches. Restraining orders. It’s exhausting. But there’s a load of love there. They respect each other’s passion. Neither one is a pansy.”

“You’ve got that right. God. I can’t believe it.”

“It’s pretty sweet when you get down to it,” Evan says. “Even if the last few years have been extra teenagery given the bluff situation.”

“How long has this been going on?” Bess asks. “That you know of?”

Evan thinks about it for a minute.

“Fifteen years?” he says, an estimate, but close enough.

“Fifteen years!”

“Around that. It started when I was in Costa Rica.”

“Costa Rica,” Bess grumbles. “Of course it started when you were inCosta Rica.”

Evan squints at her, mystified.

“Um, not really sure what you mean by that,” he says. “And I don’t know the details about how it began. But when I got back they were already several years in.”

“So. Gross.”

“You might not want to hear this, but I’m glad they have each other, broken marital vows notwithstanding. They are happy together, in their own bizarre and twisted way.”

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