Page 28 of Bad Summer People
“No, I don’t think anything is going on,” said Rachel truthfully. “Lauren likes to flirt with him, but all the women do.”
“I know,” said Susan with a disapproving snort. “I’ve seen the two of them getting cozy during lessons. The reason I’m saying anything is that I don’t want Robert to go the route of Dave, if you know what I mean.”
Rachel did. It was unlike Rachel to miss a beat, but maybe she’d been so focused on Sam and Jason and Jen that she’d overlooked this. She’d have to ask Lauren about it later. She knew Lisa and Emily were always giggling about Lauren’s obsession with Robert, and it was true Lauren was playing way more than usual this year (and wearing more revealing tennis outfits). Honestly, if Lauren was having sex with Robert, who could blame her? But Lauren should tone it down. Rachel knew Lauren wouldn’t want to be thought of as the married floozy who was sleeping with the pro.
“I get it, Susan,” said Rachel. “I’ll speak to her. Thanks for telling me.”
Susan opened the door to release Rachel, relieved to get out of that stressful, stuffy room. She was behind on her prep. She needed to finish the guacamole, melt the cheese on the nachos, shower and get dressed, and pile everything in the wagon before 6:00 p.m. She’d speak to Lauren at the picnic. She realized she’d possibly made an error in inviting Robert to join their group. But come to think of it, it’d be a good opportunity to observe the two of them in action. That’s how she’d spotted Jason and Jen.
She entered her front porch feeling frazzled by it all. Everyone seemed to be in the midst of some steamy, potentially life-changing affair but Rachel. She felt left out. That’s when she saw Sam sitting on her white couch, waiting for her to arrive.
“What are you doing here? I need to finish getting ready for the picnic. We’re all going to be late,” she said to him.
Sam was still in his bathing suit, an old gray T-shirt hanging appealingly on his chest. His curly hair was wild from the ocean air, and he looked upset.
“Rachel, I just got bad news,” he said.
Was Sam going to cry? She’d only seen him cry once before, when they were young and he’d told her he’d seen his dad slap his mom across the face during a fight.
“What’s the matter?” she said. She sat down next to him, her thigh connecting with his warm leg. He didn’t move it away this time.
“I just got a call from our managing partner, Henry. He said that they’ve decided to ask me to go on leave while they finish the sexual harassment investigation. I don’t know what I’m going to do. This crazybitch is ruining my life. I can’t tell Jen. Anyway, according to you”—he nearly spat the words in Rachel’s direction—“Jen is having an affair. So, even if Iwantedto tell her, I wouldn’t. It’s all such a disaster.” He put his head in his hands. Rachel noticed that his neck was sandy. He must have been up at the beach with the kids.
“I’m sorry, Sam. That’s terrible. Did they say how long your leave would last?”
“No. It’s summer, and everyone is at their fucking Hamptons house, so the investigation is going at a snail’s pace.” He slid down the couch in defeat, brushing his leg along hers as he did. Rachel sensed an opening. He was in a bad place. His wife was cheating on him. His job was on the line. But she wanted him to want her, not to be depressed and in need of a pity fuck. Rachel stood up. It was nearly 5:30. She didn’t have time for sex. It was Bay Picnic day. Her favorite day of the summer.
“Sam, can we discuss this tomorrow? I could have you over for lunch and Bloody Marys. You could tell Jen you’re going for a run. It’s just that I’m really behind and I need to get everything done before six.”
“Who cares about this dumb picnic?” said Sam. “Why does it matter? Do you really have nothing else going on in your life?”
Rachel’s cheeks stung. Now he was just being mean.
“Don’t take this out on me, Sam. It’s not my fault that you’re in this mess.”
“Come on. You’re the one who felt the need to inform me that Jen was sleeping with someone else. And now you’ve gone quiet. You told mejustenough to hold it over my head, but not enough for me to do anything about it. So, it kind ofisyour fault.”
He was sitting up straight, and his voice was raised. It was a tone Rachel hadn’t heard before—dark and threatening. She needed him to be quiet. She couldn’t have anyone hear Sam Weinstein yelling at her in her own home.
“You need to leave now. I’ll see you at the picnic.”
He stood up and put his face directly in front of hers, so that their noses were almost touching. She could smell his breath, which was sweet, exactly the way she remembered it from all those years ago. Then he turned around and took off, gently closing the screen door behind him, leaving Rachel scared and confused. Plus, she still had to finish the guacamole.
15Jason Parker
Jason and Lauren Parker had been yelling at each other all day. Lauren was getting churros for the picnic delivered on the ferry—her friend Abby did PR for Boqueria and had arranged everything. Jason thought it was a bit much for the Bay Picnic. What was Lauren trying to prove? Now it had become a super-stressful thing. The churros had gotten on the wrong ferry and had arrived in Fair Harbor, the town next to Salcombe, instead. Lauren had spent the better part of the afternoon hunting down the ridiculous fancy churros. Calling the ferry company, meeting every boat as it arrived, and then finally figuring out that the churros were indeed on Fire Island, but in a neighboring town.
She sent Jason to ride over to Fair Harbor to pick them up, which he did, unhappily. Hence the yelling. Arlo and Amelie were at the bay with Silvia, so at least they didn’t have to witness their parents fighting about something this ridiculous.
Jason had had it with Lauren. This summer so far had been the pits. He could barely see Jen—logistically, it was nearly impossible to be alone with her here. Lauren was being a lunatic. She was obsessively playing tennis, like two or three times a day, and then she’d disappear for stretches at a time, doing God knows what, leaving Jason alone with the kids (well, Jason and Silvia). She’d gotten in that fight with Beth on July 4 and since then had been slightly unhinged. Their squabbling had intensified over the past few weeks, to the point that Jason just found himself screaming, “Those fucking churros can go fuck themselves!”
Meanwhile, Sam was being depressive and was hounding Jason for moral support over this sexual harassment mess. It reminded Jason of when they were kids, the summer after Sam’s parents got divorced. He was mopey and clingy and not at all his usual fun self. Jason was starting to worry there was something else going on, maybe having to do with Jen. He’d never said anything about it to Jason, but there was a look in Sam’s eye that Jason didn’t like.
After the summer he’d been having with Lauren, Jason was prepared to tell everyone the truth. He and Jen were in love and were going to be together. It would be the biggest scandal Salcombe had seen since Dottie Hart and Meryl Haggerty, the women’s doubles champions in the ’90s, announced they were ditching their husbands to move in together. Lauren Parker, queen of Salcombe, scorned? Sam Weinstein, Salcombe’s handsomest man, rejected for his worse-looking best friend? Jason imagined the gossip as he walked over to the bay in front of West Walk for the start of that night’s Bay Picnic.
He’d already done one trip there with the wagon to transport the lost-and-found churros, as well as some pitchers of palomas to go with the Mexican theme. Now he was walking back alone; the kids had gone with Lauren ahead of him, all dressed up, as usual, Amelie in some full-on Stella McCartney Kids getup that Lauren had insisted on buying for hundreds of dollars.
It was a beautiful night. Clear with a light breeze. The bay water was sparkling in front of Jason as he approached the crowd of about two hundred people. They were gathered around wagons and small tables, drinking, chatting, and bobbing awkwardly to the Beatles cover band, set up in the middle of it all, doing a wobbly rendition of “Paperback Writer.”
