Page 7 of Bad Summer People
“Robert promised he’s going to fix my forehand,” said Lauren. The green silk of her camisole brought out the green flecks in her eyes, and Rachel saw Robert was watching her as she spoke.
“Can I get either of you another drink?” Rachel asked, eyeing Lauren’s empty glass.
“Not for me,” said Robert. “I’ve got to go back to my place now and get some rest. I have lessons tomorrow starting at 8:00 a.m. But thank you so much for having me. It was really nice getting to know everyone.”
Robert smiled at Lauren and went over to say goodbye to the others, leaving Lauren standing with Rachel. Rachel took a step closer to her and lowered her voice. She could smell Lauren now, an appealing mixture of Chanel No. 5 and natural bug spray.
“What were you tworeallytalking about? You looked cozy,” Rachel said in her best conspiratorial voice. She wanted Lauren to open up to her, and she hoped to act as her non-judgy confidante. Lauren didn’t take the bait. She took a step back from Rachel, leaning attractively against the wooden shingled wall of the screened-in porch.
“Doubles. We told you,” Lauren said.
“Isn’t he so cute?” prodded Rachel. The screen door banged as Robert left, and the buzz went out of the room.
“Yes, obviously, he’s ridiculously cute. He told me about where he’s from in Florida and that his dad died a few years ago. He went there to help his mom and then just kind of got stuck,” she said.
Jason approached; he looked shiny and drunk. “All right, honey, let’s go. I’ve had like four drinks and am ready for bed,” he said.
Lauren nodded. Rachel hated this part, when people started to leave.
The couples trickled out together, saying their thank-yous and goodbyes, leaving Rachel with Micah, who’d started to tidy the mess. Wineglasses were strewn around the porch, and the dregs of the appetizers were awaiting cleanup.
“Thank you so much for everything. Please feel free to go home. I’ll do the rest,” said Rachel, not really wanting to make conversation. “I’m sure you’ve had enough of the grown-ups for one night.”
“Oh, no, it’s totally fine. I can help,” he said, picking up the bowl of olive pits. “Anyway, it’s fun for me to hang with your group—I get to see and hear things I normally wouldn’t.” He looked her straight in the eyes as he said it. What did he mean?
“Please, go have fun with your friends. I’m all good!” She handed him a hundred dollars in twenties. He nodded cordially, his duty done, leaving Rachel all alone. She was always alone.
She didn’t feel like clearing up quite yet, so she poured herself a glass of cabernet (she always started the evening with white and finished withred) and walked out to the boardwalk. Maybe she’d go sit on the dock for a bit by herself.
She lived on a walk called Marine, right across from the tennis courts and connecting yacht club, closer to the bay side of the island than the ocean. The moon was out, and it was cool. Rachel wished she’d worn a sweatshirt. There were no lights on the boardwalks, so the only guidance came from lamps in people’s homes. The later it got, the harder it was to navigate without a flashlight. As she walked toward the bay, she could hear a few people standing on the raised outdoor deck of the yacht club, drinking and chatting. She didn’t want anyone to see her, as then she’d be obligated to go up and join the fun. She wasn’t in the mood.
She turned around and instead walked in the direction of the ocean, the path getting increasingly less visible as she got farther from the constant flashing of the Fire Island Lighthouse. Though it was quiet and dark, she felt safe. There hadn’t been a violent crime in her forty-two years coming out to Salcombe. Likely because no one kept any valuables in their beach homes, and you had to take a ferry back and forth. How would a criminal escape? Occasionally, bikes were stolen from people’s homes or the yacht club, but that was the work of rowdy local teens (or drunken, confused adults). The bikes were usually found discarded in a neighboring town after the guilty party’s adventure ended.
One boardwalk, Harbor, cut through the middle of town, equidistant between the bay and beach. Rachel walked across it to Neptune, peering into the small house on the corner, where her old friend Leah Thomas used to live. It was now owned by a new family, the Cahulls, who had one toddler, with a baby on the way. Rachel had spent so many nights there when she was a kid, sleeping over in Leah’s room, Leah in the top bunk, Rachel on the bottom, talking about boys and life. She missed having her own best friend in Salcombe. All that was left of their crew were the guys—Jason and Sam—and so Rachel was forced to befriend the wives and new couples. Leah lived in California now with her husband and three kids.
Rachel could see the Cahulls on their couch, watching TV. Mike was giving Marina, who must have been about seven months pregnant, a footrub. Rachel had heard that Marina had dated women before marrying Mike, but from the view she had now, all looked very traditional. She continued toward the beach, enjoying the lonely walk, the wind ruffling her dress. She felt younger than forty-two in the cover of the Salcombe night, like she was a teenager ambling home after a rager on the dunes. The air smelled fresh, the stars were out overhead, and she spotted a deer crossing the boardwalk just up ahead. They were everywhere on the island, spreading Lyme disease, no doubt (the kids in town even referred to the reeds lining the walks as “tick grass”). But it still amazed Rachel that such wild, large, beautiful creatures lived in such proximity to the people there. There had been a political fight some years back about the legality of killing deer to control their population, but Rachel couldn’t remember which side won. Either way, they were still there every summer, munching on grass and scaring the bejesus out of small dogs.
The beach, reached by a thinner boardwalk path leading to a wooden stairway, was deserted. The moon was shining on the gray water, small waves lapping the shore. She walked about thirty feet to the right and plopped down on the cool sand near the dunes, finishing the last drop of wine in her glass before placing it down beside her. She hugged her legs and looked at her phone. It was 10:22. She should really head back.
Just then, she heard footsteps on the stairs heading down to the beach, a light clomping, maybe two people. She slid farther into the tick grass that edged the back of the beach, hiding herself not out of fear but the fact that she’d be humiliated to be caught drinking by herself at this hour. She was sure she’d know whomever it was; she knew everyone. She could see it was a couple, now, a man and a woman. Her chest tightened as she recognized their shapes: Jason and Jen. Her white shirtdress was unmistakable. They walked toward the water, continually looking behind them to make sure they were alone. Rachel hunched smaller, willing herself to be invisible, trying not to so much as breathe. They were about forty feet in front of her.
“I can’t do this all summer,” said Jen, taking Jason’s hand in hers. They were facing away from Rachel, but she could hear them as well as if they were still at her party.
“I can’t see you and not be with you,” Jason said. He stroked Jen’s hair and kissed her, Jen leaning into him, arms around his back. Rachel didn’t know what to do. Should she make a run for it? She could go all the way to the next town, Kismet, and walk back from there.
“We just have to keep it quiet for now,” said Jen. “We can’t do it while we’re all out here. Think of the kids. Think of the town scandal this will become. We have to get through until Labor Day, and then we can make a plan.”
“It just sucks so much,” said Jason. “I can see you, but I can’t touch you.”
“We really shouldn’t even be here—some teenagers could be out with their friends; someone could walk down. We should go home,” said Jen.
Jason, looking tortured, ran his hands through his hair. “Okay, let’s go back. I told Lauren I was heading to the club for a drink, but I’m going to say I just walked around for a while and changed my mind.”
“Sam is already passed out. I’m not worried about him,” said Jen. “You go first, and I’ll wait here for ten minutes before I leave, in case anyone is around.”
They kissed one more time. It reminded Rachel of when she used to make out passionately with her high school boyfriend in front of her back door. What was wrong with them?
“Can you imagine if Rachel found out?” said Jen as Jason started back toward the steps. Rachel felt her heart beating so hard she was sure they could hear it. Jason laughed. Then he disappeared into the dark.
