The Lake House (33 page)

“I’ll think about it. Let’s change the subject. How’s our little Emily?”

“I’m babysitting her next week and I was thinking of bringing her for lunch. I know how much she loves her great-grandpa,” she said.

“That would be nice,” he said, realizing that his eyes had misted over.

“I love you, Daddy.”

“Love you too, baby.”

Joseph hung up. He went to the bedroom and lay down. The last time he’d spoken with his wife was in a law office. Joseph had offered the house, but Barbara said she couldn’t bear to live in Nagog. In her mind, she’d always be the outsider. Joseph had set up accounts to take care of her financial needs and that had been the end of his marriage. Now his ex-wife was with another man. Someone else would touch the white stretch marks created by his babies.

Joseph went into the study, where the spicy smell of pipe tobacco, smoked thirty years before, impregnated the thick drapes and antique carpets. This was Joseph’s father’s study and now his sanctuary.

He looked out the window to Barbara’s overgrown flower garden. The patio had been designed to look like a European bistro, complete with café chairs and a fountain that once played a soft trickling medley. The wineglasses that hung from the outdoor baker’s rack had gone dirty with years of dust. Joseph didn’t have his ex-wife’s green thumb. Weeds had broken through the brick walk and vines choked the flowers, siphoning off their nutrients.

It was a beautiful day outside. He stretched his limbs and walked into the garden. Four months ago, when he saw Victoria
in the snow the night she’d returned, he didn’t believe he could open his heart again. She said she was here to stay, but if he let her in again, would he only be left heartbroken once more?

T
he barista called out coffee orders as people stood around the café waiting for their drinks, buzzing with chatter. Heather sat off to the corner in a blue armchair, sipping her latte as she stared at her computer screen. She’d hoped that a change of scenery would help her write, but it hadn’t.

Horror stories about writer’s block were taboo in the
Globe’
s office. No one wanted to say the words for dread of the writer’s virus spreading. Until this moment, Heather had never experienced any of the symptoms: hours of staring at the computer without progress; days of cleaning and laundry to avoid work or, worse, when the block completely took over, endless hours of television without the desire to move. The problem wasn’t the column—she’d sent off the four articles to George about lakeside vacations, but the hundred pages Charlie needed for the book publisher had become her nemesis. In her brief conversation with Charlie yesterday, she’d asked for the name of the publishing house or editor and he responded, “Are you asking so that you can go behind my back and invite them to a party?”

The man was a child. Of course, in some ways she deserved said blame for that.

She stared at the computer screen. Fear blocked every thought in her mind. Instead of writing, she read her e-mail. Steven had written. His correspondences were all the same: his producers loved the Solo Female Traveler show idea and he was meeting
with top executives and would be in touch with her and Charlie soon. The first few e-mails had sent her into euphoric excitement as she dreamt about staying in luxury hotels and being able to eat dinner in fancy restaurants with her film crew. But after hearing what Charlie had said to George at their meeting at the
Globe,
she realized that it was a long shot at best.

She scrubbed her face with her hands.
Just type anything that comes to mind, even if it’s horrible.
She looked out the window for inspiration. A rusted white truck with
Woodward Architecture, Ltd.
printed on the side pulled into the parking lot. Her stomach did a little flip as Tommy stepped from the vehicle. She hadn’t seen him since they’d stargazed, and though she hated to admit it, at night she sat on her deck hoping he would come to visit Thomas.

He walked into the shop and went to the counter. A blond woman, Heather’s age, came from behind the register. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a quick kiss on the mouth. Heather couldn’t hear what they were saying, but a pang of jealousy crept through her body. Was the blonde his girlfriend?

An older woman brought him a coffee to go. She kissed him on the cheek and held him close, inspecting him in a motherly way.
He’s loved,
Heather thought.

As he made his way to the door, he noticed Heather. She smiled at him and gave a shy wave and he walked over.

“Hiding from my grandfather?”

“His Casanova ways are too much for me to resist. I had to escape before he carried me off,” she joked.

He laughed and sat down. “I told you, be careful. No woman has outlived him.”

“I might need to call on you for a rescue,” she said. “But really, he’s fine.” Heather looked at the young woman at the cash register, expecting her to be watching Heather’s interaction with Tommy, but she didn’t seem to care. Maybe she wasn’t his girlfriend after all. “So what brings you to town so early in the day? You usually only come at night and on weekends.”

“Keeping track of me?” He smiled at her.

She blushed and then said with as much cool as she could muster, “No, I could care less about your comings and goings, but I’m a writer so I notice things.”

“I heard a rumor about your writing. I assume that’s why you went to Africa?”

“Yeah. I travel solo and write a column for the
Globe,
” she said with a touch of pride.

“Not a bad gig. So, if you don’t mind me asking, why the house in Nagog?”

Heather sighed and shook her head. “Momentary fall into insanity.”

“Okay?”

“Actually, I spent the first years of my life living on a lake. When I saw the house it reminded me of a time when everything felt safe. It probably sounds stupid.”

“No, it’s the same for me, but of course I grew up here. Whenever I drive in I’m transported back to when days were lazy and I could spend my afternoon fishing or playing in the woods,” he said.

“That’s nice. Of course, I’ve ended up with men blowing cigar smoke into my house and Victoria and Molly asking me for sex tips.”

“They didn’t?” He laughed.

“Oh yeah, the girl talk has gotten a little personal.”

“Just remember that around Sarah you’re still a virgin or she’ll try to bring you to church with her.”

“She’s already trying.” Heather rolled her eyes. “What’s her story?”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s cold to Victoria. And she leaves me flyers about church but refuses to have a real conversation. The woman hates me even though she doesn’t know me.”

“Sarah’s a good person. She’s been through tremendous heartache and her faith has helped her survive. I think if she’s trying to get you to church, it’s her odd way of being a neighbor. As for Victoria, they have things that go back to childhood that were never worked out.”

The blonde came up and put her hand on Tommy’s shoulder and handed him a white bag. “A little gift for the drive home. They just came out of the oven.”

Tommy opened the bag and the smell of warm chocolate chip cookies filled the air. “Thanks. Stacy, I’d like you to meet Heather. She owns Maryland’s house.”

“Oh, you’re the one.” She smiled with a touch of a fun laugh. “I’ve been dying to see what you look like. I’m a little disappointed. I thought there’d be horns sprouting from your head, from the way Sarah and Carl talk about you.” She rubbed a circle on Tommy’s back. “I wish I could stay and chat but I have to get back, the line is getting long. See you later, Tommy.”

Heather looked at him, waiting for an explanation, but none came. “Okay, you’re going to make me ask. Who was that?”

“You don’t know?”

Heather shook her head.

“Molly’s daughter owns this cafe. Stacy’s Molly’s granddaughter. I stopped in thinking that the gang would be here.”

“So with all the cafés in town,
of course
I picked my neighbors’ local haunt.” Heather rolled her eyes. She couldn’t escape. He laughed at her, and she responded by gently kicking his calf. “Shut up.”

He smiled and for a moment they looked at one another in playful teasing. “Speaking of the devils,” Tom said. Bill, Molly, Joseph, and Victoria walked through the door. Molly ran up to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “How’s my handsome man?”

“Better now,” he said. He stood and folded Molly’s soft body into his large form. He greeted Bill and Joseph but paused when he came to Victoria. She pushed back the hair near his eyes and then pulled him close.

“I’m sorry I can’t stay. I’m already late getting back to work,” Tom said as they pulled away.

Victoria touched his face. “It’s okay. We’ll visit soon.”

Tom looked at Heather. “Thanks for the company. Sorry if I disrupted your brilliant writing.”

“Yeah, sure, show up, throw me off my deadline, and then leave me with these women who I’m sure will stuff me full of dessert.” She shook her head in mock frustration. “You are definitely a pain in the you-know-what.”

“I guess I owe you another root beer float night.” He winked and then waved good-bye.

Bill and Joseph went to the counter to order as Molly and Victoria
commandeered the table next to Heather. “What did he say about a root beer float night?” Molly asked.

“It’s nothing,” Heather said as she watched the truck pull away. But she realized her cheeks hurt from smiling. She turned to Victoria expecting a comment, but Victoria stared out the window, looking forlorn. Heather wanted to reach out to her, but Molly placed her hand on Victoria’s shoulder and the moment passed.

“Well, that looked like a nice visit with Tommy,” Victoria said. “I didn’t realize the two of you had become friends.”

“I don’t know about friends. He stopped over the other night when he was visiting his grandfather and we bumped into each other today. It wasn’t a date or anything.”

“No one said it was, dear.” Victoria raised her eyebrows and smiled.

Joseph returned and handed Victoria a cup of coffee and a scone. He sat down next to her and Heather saw a flush of red on Victoria’s cheeks when she looked at the man. Heather noticed that Victoria was in a pair of designer jeans today with a red silk short-sleeve blouse and had taken extra care with her hair.

“So, Joseph, have you caught any fish? I see you out on the dock almost every morning,” Heather said.

“They haven’t been biting much.”

“I guess Victoria’s swimming keeps them at a distance.” Heather knew her comment would make Victoria uncomfortable, but if she was going to tease her about Tommy, then Joseph was fair game.

“Well, it’s going to be interrupted again this week,” Molly said. “The Red Hat Society from church is going to be coming three
days a week to do aerobics on the beach. Heather, you should join us. Victoria is going to lead the class.”

“What time?”

“Six in the morning,” Molly said.

Heather’s eyes widened. They would be right outside Heather’s bedroom window early in the morning. Maybe cigar smoke was the least of her worries.

V
ictoria could hear children running and playing on the beach through the community center’s open window. Roger and Evelyn’s kids and grandkids had come for a barbecue, and the smell of roasting meat and charcoal floated on the air. There was something special about the sound of young children playing that made the world feel right.

She placed three kings in front of her while she looked around the table: Molly and Bill, Sarah and Carl, Agatha, Daniel, Thomas, and Joseph. It had taken time, but they were all together, playing a game of Five Hundred rummy. Molly and Bill had sassed each other all afternoon in playful competition just as they’d done when they were teenagers. At this moment, Victoria wanted for nothing. A warm breeze came through the windows and carried music from Heather’s living room. Victoria had invited the girl, but she declined, stating that she had too much work to do.

“Life is good,” she said as she picked up her glass of iced tea and sipped.

“It’d be better if we could get rid of that girl,” Sarah said as she chose a card from the deck.