Page 30 of The Book of Summer

“Jesus,” Evan says again. “Was he at all apologetic?”

“He made a good show of it. At least until I said there was no getting past what happened. Then he really let me have it.”

Bess braces herself for the words she can still hear, words that stung far worse than finding out about the prostitutes in the first place. That’s when Bess told her lawyer: Hurry up and settle, mediate, divorce. ASAP. It was like escaping a house fire. Grab what’s important. Get out in one piece. She did not want to see his face again.

“What a shit-for-brains,” Evan says. “He obviously has some sort of mental condition or personality disorder. God. Those poor prostitutes.”

“Theprostitutes?” Bess can’t help but laugh. “I’m glad you’re focusing on the correct victims in this story.”

“Whatever.” Evan flicks his hand, as if batting away the thought. “I’m not worried about you. You have loads going for you. Those hookers were already damaged. Now they’re scarred for life.”

“Well, his penis is very small.” Bess smirks. “And he’s a pretty wretched kisser. Too dry-mouthed. If I had to screw someone to make a buck, Brandon would not be my top choice.”

“Huh,” Evan says, eyes still blinky and surprised.

“So. Yep. There ya go. Hookers, the ultimate deal-breaker. A tip to take with you into future relationships.”

“Bess.” Evan makes a face. “I would never.”

“I know. I’m just trying to be funny. As you’ve gathered, I’m quite good at it.”

“Can I ask you something?” he says, brows crunched. “Why haven’t you told your mom? You guys are so close.”

Bess considers this.

“I don’t know,” she says. “Cissy and Iareclose but it’s just… she’s a tough broad, that mom of mine. You never know when you’re going to step on a land mine with her. That’s why it’s usually best to stay up here.”

Bess raises both hands to eye level.

“Uh. Yeah. Tough broad. That is the very definition of Cissy Codman. But, you’re Bess. She loves you more than she loves anything. Even that house.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Bess says with a snort. “The thing is, her judgment is already emanating at me and she doesn’t know the half of it. She keeps asking if I’m sure about the divorce.”

“What could she be judgmental about?”

“I’m giving this family its first broken branch on the whole damned tree. I am the middle child, though. So I’m the right person to play family pariah.”

“Wait a minute.” Evan shakes his head. “Aren’t your parents… I thought they were divorced?”

“What?” Bess laughs. “Divorced? No. Not at all. I mean, my dad never comes to Cliff House and Cissy’s rarely in Boston.” She laughs again. “I’m not suggesting they have some grand love affair for the ages or anything. They basically tolerate each other.”

“Sounds very romantic.”

“Cissy isn’t the romantic type.”

Bess tries to stand. Her left foot has fallen asleep and so she stumbles on the way up. Evan gives her a steady arm.

“Thanks,” Bess says, as the blush creeps across her cheeks once more. She is suddenly woozy. “I’ll let you get back to work.”

Evan keeps his hand at her elbow, guiding her down the dirt path.

“Yeah, I should do some work today,” he says. “This might surprise you, but people get very hostile when they think their contractor isn’t keyed in to every nail and two-by-four. I’ll drop you back at Cliff House.”

“Drop me back at Cliff House,” Bess repeats, as the rocks and pebbles roll beneath her flip-flopped feet. “That might be the last time someone says those words to me.”

“Wow, betting against Cissy Codman? That’s a bad sign.”

“You’ve seen the bluff, right?”

---