“Yay! I’m so glad you’re doing laundry. Can I throw these in too?” she asked, holding out a pile of pink clothes to me.
“Sure,” I said, lifting the lid of the washer for her to toss her stuff in.
“Thanks. Just let me know when they’re done,” she said.
I sneered at her, which wasn’t really fair, but I didn’t care. “When the dryer stops running is when they’ll be done,” I informed her.
She lifted her chin to indicate she understood.
The five of us were forced to share a car on the way back to the Grand Geneva to meet Dr. and Mrs. Reed for the Fourth of July festivities. Tyler and Sadie sat in the front, and the kids and I sat in the back. Twice, Tyler’s eyes connected with mine in the rearview mirror.
We spun through the revolving door of the lobby and were presented with red, white, and blue beads that we were to hang around our necks. We then walked through the expansive lobby area, down three steps, and outside onto the hotel’s grand patio where over a hundred families had gathered to celebrate the holiday and wait for the fireworks to light up the sky over the golf course. We located Dr. and Mrs. Reed at a large round table that had been reserved for all of us. Tyler sat directly across from me with Sadie on his right, and I sat between the kids. As soon as they started fidgeting, I reached in my bag and handed them each their own iTouch. As they went into zone-out mode, I leaned over and feigned interest in whatever game they were playing. Meanwhile, Tyler and Sadie participated in the adult conversation with his parents. My neck was stiff, and my palms were sweaty. I was concentrating so hard on not thinking about him, that he was all I could think about.
I excused myself to the bathroom, reentered the main building, and walked quickly down a long hallway leading to an empty ballroom. I propped myself up against a wall and tilted my head up to the ceiling. I closed my eyes and took a few deep, deliberate breaths. Tyler was standing in front of me when I opened my eyes.
“Oh my God, what the hell, Tyler?”
“What are you doing back here?”
“Trying to get away from you for two minutes,” I snapped.
He took a step closer, and I turned my gaze toward the corridor to make sure no one was stomping in after him.
“Listen,” he started, taking hold of my right hand. “I want to talk to you.”
I yanked my hand away from his. “What is there to talk about? You are insane; it’s that simple. I have a few more days here with your family, and then I get to go home and never have to see or think about you again. So please leave me alone and let me do my job and get through this without you or Tinker Bell getting in my way.”
He leaned forward until his shirt collar was less than an inch away from my mouth. I swallowed what little saliva I had left in my dehydrated throat. “Please, Tyler,” I whispered, eyes cast downward. “Please just leave me alone.”
His breath was warm against my ear when he spoke. “I want to talk to you. I realize this is a bad time. I’ll come find you later,” he said and walked away.
I exhaled and stood there, wishing he would come back and give me all of his attention again.
Before walking back to the table, I filled two plates with hotdogs and potato chips for the kids. After dinner, Sammy, Sarah, and I grabbed the blanket we’d brought and went to claim our spot on the grass for the fireworks show while the Reeds went to join their friends at the bar. Tyler and Sadie came over to where we were sitting to say good-bye.
“No!” Sarah scolded him. “You have to stay for the show; that’s why we’re here, Ty.”
Tyler glanced at Sadie, whose expression indicated she had no intention of spending one more minute with his family.
“Sorry, squirt, we’re going to meet some friends in town.”
“You suck,” Sammy said before turning his attention back to his handheld device.
I tried not to smile.
Once the sun went down, the kids and I snuggled together and ooh’d and aah’d as a kaleidoscope of lights burst across the night sky. We each picked our favorite fireworks. Mine were the ones that exploded into starry glitter after bursting onto the dark canvas. Sammy liked the ones that started out like a snake, and Sarah preferred the finale to anything else. After the show, I dragged the two exhausted, saccharin-filled kids through the lobby bar like rag dolls in search of their parents. It was time to get them to bed. When I found Dr. Reed, he handed me his keys, said they’d get a ride back with friends, and dismissed me by turning his back on us.
I almost never had any direct contact with Dr. Reed, so I cleared my throat before speaking. “Excuse me, Mr., I mean, Dr. Reed? Sarah wanted to say good night to her mom, do you know where she is?” I asked him.
“Outside with the other women,” he said over his shoulder.
“Okay, thank you.”
Sarah overheard her father and instantly began whining at the thought of traipsing back outside through the crowd to find her mother. “I don’t want to go out there; you go get her, Chloe,” she said defiantly and refused to move.
I leaned in close to her since we were standing next to Dr. Reed and three other brooding men holding cigars and brandy snifters. “It’ll just take a sec, okay? We’ll go back outside, say good-bye, and then go home.”
“No! We were just out there!”
I knelt before her. “Sarah, you’re too old to be acting like this. Let’s just go quickly, and the sooner we find her, the sooner we can
head home,” I said, pleading with my eyes and my best everything-will-be-fine smile.
“Do. You. Mind?” I heard Dr. Reed say above me.
I could tell by his eyes that he was pissed. I stood up, embarrassed. “I’m so sorry. They wanted to say good-bye to Mrs. Reed…”
“I don’t care, just get them out of here.”
I nodded and grabbed Sarah’s hand. “Yes, of course, I’m so sorry.”
Once we were back home, I calmed the kids down with Swedish Fish and two episodes of
The Simpsons,
and then put them to bed. Mrs. Reed had come home in time to say good night to them and asked me why we’d left without saying good-bye. Once Sammy and Sarah were asleep, I found Mrs. Reed reading out on the patio. I stuck my head out to let her know I was going to bed.
“Come sit for a moment,” she said.
I hesitated and then slid into a nearby wicker loveseat adorned with an “I’d Rather Be Golfing” pillow.
“I just wanted to say what a wonderful help you’ve been this summer, Chloe. We’re sure going to miss you next year,” she said.
“Thank you. I’m going to miss the kids a ton. You’ll have to promise to e-mail me lots of pictures.”
“Of course, dear,” she said, then closed her book in her lap and smoothed the shiny jacket with her French-manicured fingers. “I expect Tylah will miss you too.”
My smile faded. I raised my eyebrows and met her gaze. “Um, yeah, it’s been great to get to know him better. I mean, we really haven’t spent much time together, but you all have been so kind and generous,” I said.
“He’s a wonderful boy, Tylah. So talented and charming.”
I nodded in agreement.
“He’s worked so vereh hard to get where he is. We wouldn’t want anyone or anything to get in his way or hinder his chances in the draft. Would
we
?”
I shook my head.
“He’s always been surrounded by people of superior caliber. I know you wouldn’t want him exposed to any unsavory elements,” she lowered her chin. “I’m sure your mother would agree.”
I sat as though frozen, recalling the one time that my mother had fallen off the wagon. It had been a Friday night during the summer before my junior year of college, and I’d been at the Reeds’ house watching the twins. I got a call from our neighbor, saying that my mom was sitting in her car in our driveway with her head on the steering wheel. My neighbor had tapped on the window, but Mom only turned her head. Frantic, I called Mrs. Reed’s cell phone, but she never answered, so I had to take Sammy and Sarah with me in their pajamas to unlock the car and drag my poor mother to bed. Apparently, she was about to drive to the 7-Eleven to get a pack of lighters when she passed out. By the time I drove the kids back, the Reeds were home and panicked. I explained the situation to Mrs. Reed and sat through an hour of questions and insults that she cleverly masked behind a false façade of concern.
“Naturally, we all want what’s best for him. For Tylah to stay focused and free of any unnecessary distractions. But I know you’re far too busy with your duties here to get in his way,” she concluded.
I refocused my gaze on her. Her eyes had narrowed slightly, but she hadn’t lost her signature, patronizing grin. “I don’t understand,” I spoke with trepidation. “He’s with Sadie,” I said, feeling the need to identify the real meaning behind her lecture.
She continued, ignoring my segue. “He has a big future ahead of him. There are many people counting on him, and he has many expectations for himself, of course.”
I nodded again, but she wasn’t done.
“I know how he is, how easily he can lose sight of things if he doesn’t stay focused. The draft is next year, and there’s a lot riding on his commitment to the team this fall. It’s all so vereh exciting for him,” she went on. “
We
don’t want to see him get distracted,” she cautioned me, lashes fluttering.
Maybe she needed to put her glasses back on. Did she think Sadie was seated across from her? No, there was no way to mistake that Lite-Brite head for anyone else. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, causing the wicker to crackle and calling attention to the awkward silence.
Best to ride the wave of denial,
I thought. “Oh my gosh, no, Mrs. Reed, it’s not like that between Tyler and me,” I said, waving my hands like I was swatting away fruit flies. And it wasn’t. Maybe if she actually knew how cruel he’d been to me, she’d be acting a little more sympathetic rather than staring at me like I’d taken a blowtorch to her needlepoint bag. “I’m so sorry if you got that impression.”
“I know we both want what’s best for Tyler,” she said, eyebrows raised.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Indeed,” I answered.
She smiled. I think.
After a few seconds, I realized she’d said her piece and was dismissing me. I pressed my palms together. “Thanks again for everything. The kids and I had a lot of fun tonight.”
“Good night, dear,” she said in a cryptically cheerful tone as I stood up and walked away.
I
was shaking when I got to my room. I shut the door and slid to the floor with my back against it. Only a few days left. I clasped my hands behind my head and massaged the back of my neck while I replayed the events of the evening in my mind. Mrs. Reed had just chastised me for distracting her son, when all the while Tyler was the one ambushing me and derailing
my
focus. I wished I wasn’t so desperate to know what he wanted to say to me, but I was. His eyes were all over me at dinner, and based on my little chat with Mrs. Reed just then, I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed. Every time I looked up from my plate, I could feel his eyes on me. However, I’d only dared to meet his gaze twice.
I shook off my conversation with his mother and tried to regain my composure. It was not my responsibility to defend myself to her. I’d done nothing but take exceptional care of her children that summer while she played golf and took mint-julep-induced naps every afternoon. I put my pajamas on and got into bed. As soon as I leaned back, I heard the sound of paper crinkling beneath my pillow. I sat up, lifted the pillow, and found a piece of notebook paper folded in half.
Meet me at the lake at midnight.
A shiver shot through me and landed in my stomach. I ran my finger over the words he’d scribbled in blue ballpoint pen and then looked at the clock. A quarter to eleven.
I smiled and studied the note for a few seconds longer; then I folded it back up and placed it at the bottom of my duffel bag near the closet.
I rolled my eyes and sighed. I’d already let Tyler inside my head farther than he deserved. Was I willing to do it again? I was trying to be content with the memories of the couple nights we’d shared together. A simple summer fling that flared up and then died out just as quickly. Big deal, so I didn’t get the guy. I had more important things to think about, including managing
my own
expectations. He wasn’t the only one who didn’t need any distractions.
I got back into bed and wrapped myself beneath the white sheets. Everything in the room was white down to the digital clock, which played mind games with me every time the illuminated numbers changed.
Eleven o’clock.
Goddamn it. Would he be waiting down there for me? I hated to be rude and ignore him. Not that I owed him any sort of courtesy given his behavior.
Eleven fifteen.
I should be the bigger person and just go down there and tell him to “focus” his attention elsewhere
. Yawn.
Eleven thirty.
I hated to leave him wondering if I was going to show up or not.
Double yawn.
At 12:20 a.m. I woke up and leaped out of bed like a jack-in-the-box. My body shook from suddenly disrupting its brief slumber. I grabbed a cardigan, slipped on my flip-flops, and walked gingerly through the kitchen and outside. He was there. That massive shadowy figure sitting down at the end of the dock could only belong to one person. I closed the screen door behind me slowly so as not to rouse the rusty hinges. If I’d had any intention of blowing him off, ignoring his handwritten distraction, and moving on with my life, there was no trace of that reasoning as I skipped down the hill and padded toward him with anticipation. Once again the moon was
full. He stood when he heard my flip-flops slap against the wood surface of the dock.
“I thought maybe you were playing hard to get,” he said.
“I fell asleep.”
He smiled and took my hands in his. “Are you nervous?” he asked.
“No,” I lied.
He ran his thumb over my knuckles. “I know you asked me to leave you alone, but I felt that I owed you an explanation and an apology,” he said. “I was planning to bring Sadie up all along. What I hadn’t planned on was you.”