All Summer Long

  Olivia giggled herself to sleep over their mousy bravado, which was a first for her—not consideration of their mousiness, but the giggling to sleep part.

  So, over a sumptuous breakfast on the Bali Hi terrace amid huge containers of palm trees with pink bougainvillea cascading down the sides, Nick announced he was going golfing too. Olivia was surprised. To begin with, in her mind, golf wasn’t really a sport and Nick wasn’t exactly a rabid fan.

  “Really? Why?” She took a bite of her perfectly prepared egg white omelet with minced fines herbes filled with grilled asparagus and Swiss cheese. “You didn’t pack your cleats, you know.”

  “Sam said I could borrow shoes and clubs from the starter. So I’m going for three reasons.” He took a forkful of his eggs Benedict, moaning with exaggerated pleasure while he slowly chewed it and swallowed. “My God! This is best hollandaise in the world! Okay, so one, I’ll have Sam right there, who might improve my game, which we know needs considerable guidance. Two, I’m not missing that lunch.”

  “Take Lysol wipes.”

  “No kidding. And three, they’re taking a speedboat there, not a helicopter. So, I thought, why not? And, I understand the boat is an old Hinckley Craft. You know how I love them.”

  Nick had several big, glossy coffee-table books from Rizzoli on pleasure crafts and to his mind Hinckley Craft boats were the epitome of style and quality. Olivia would agree emphatically that they truly were the diamonds of any marina. A twenty-five-foot launch of mahogany and brass could cost as much as half a million dollars or more. Think Cary Grant circa 1955, zipping through the sparkling water surrounding the Isle of Capri, with Sophia Loren draped over his shoulder. There was no sexier boating experience to be had. To put the value in perspective, Nick’s last boat was a twenty-foot Sea Pro that was under twenty thousand dollars including the motor and the trailer. Old Hinckleys were highly coveted and practically unattainable except for a very few of the one percent.

  “I know you do. Take a lot of pictures!” Olivia smiled and took a sip of her mango/guava/papaya juice. She nodded. “Why not, indeed? Gosh, this is good. Don’t worry about me. I have a great book to read. After breakfast I’m going to take a nice leisurely walk. Someone said you could walk the whole circumference of the island. It’s only three miles. No climbing over rocks or anything.”

  “Good! Climbing wet rocks is not a good idea, especially if you’re walking alone. You could slip and break something, and who would know? You could lie there dead in the surf and wash away with the tide. Swarms of fiddler crabs pecking away at your lifeless body?”

  “Good grief, Nick!” Olivia laughed. “Probably wouldn’t happen, but I see your point. Anyway, I’ll probably walk with one of the girls. Can I refill your coffee?”

  “Yes, thank you. Well, just be careful. By the way, we haven’t dissected last night. I must say, Olivia, watching Dorothy and, to a lesser degree, Ellen being so insufferably rude to Maritza was appalling.”

  “They want her life. It’s the only justification I can think of.”

  “They must be insane,” Nick said. “I wouldn’t want her life for five minutes.”

  “Me either.”

  “I mean, Ellen might be Bob’s plaything for the moment, but in my opinion, it’s never going anywhere. But how awful to have that right in your face.”

  “I agree. And it’s embarrassing. Even worse was Dorothy cavorting around like some kind of femme fatale. Can you even imagine Bob with Dorothy?”

  “Not to be crude, my love, but the weenie’s in the freezer.”

  “What a thought! Good grief, Nick!” Then Olivia burst into a deep laugh. “How terrible! You are so naughty.”

  “Sorry. I only meant to make you laugh. Anyway, today should be a beautiful day.”

  “I want to find the flamingos,” Olivia said. “And don’t worry about me. Just go have fun!”

  “There are flamingos on this island?”

  “Yes, and lemurs! I love those crazy little animals! They’re primates, you know.”

  “No, I did not know that.” Nick laughed and shook his head. “They have the strangest beady yellow eyes. Take pictures if you see one! Wait? Lemurs? They aren’t indigenous to the Virgin Islands.”

  “No, they are not. They’re from Madagascar, I believe. Branson brought them here to breed because they are an endangered species,” Olivia said, taking her last sip of juice. “Or something like that.”

  “Well, that’s not a bad deal for the lemurs, is it? Dragged halfway around the world to a paradise just to, well, procreate?”

  “Oh, Nick! You’re such a boy!” She shook her head and looked down at her plate, bare except for a sprig of parsley. “This breakfast was as amazing as dinner last night, minus the green-eyed monsters.”

  “It was,” Nick said, wiping his mouth with his napkin and bringing it to rest to the right of his knife. “Jealousy is a terrible thing. Shall we go seize the day?”

  “Yes,” she said and stood, looking out toward the water. “Poor Maritza. She really loves the old bastard, you know?”

  “Yes, it’s so obvious. The poor child. She’s bound to have her heart broken.”

  “I think it’s certain that she will,” Olivia said. “I hate the thought of it.”

  “What is she? His sixth wife?”

  “Fifth. Well, since I’ve known him.”

  “We witness the triumph of hope over experience.”

  “I’ll say. Bob’s constant changing of the guard is good for business, but I just hate to see this marriage go up in flames. I mean, I think she would’ve married him even if he had less, don’t you?”

  “What? One billion instead of twenty?”

  “Gosh, honey, do you think we’re jaded?” Olivia picked up her tote bag and dropped her novel inside, along with a tube of sun block, a bottle of water, and her cell phone.

  “A wee bit. A sad but true story. Let’s go.”

  Everyone had agreed to meet in the large open-air living room space on the main floor of the Great House at ten. After a short walk in the delicious fruit-scented air, with palms swaying, the ocean spraying, and gulls squawking, they arrived and spotted Bob and the other men fidgeting, pretending to putt or drive off an invisible tee. Nick and Olivia could tell that they were beyond ready to leave.

  “These fellows are die-hard jocks,” Nick said, “I’m just an old duffer.”

  “I keep telling you, golf is not a real sport,” Olivia said. “And I love my duffer, who is not even close to old.”

  “I love you,” Nick said and kissed her cheek.

  The ladies were chatting to one another, sort of. At least they were putting out a vibe of amiability for the sake of their husbands and partners. Daniel and Kitty were nowhere to be seen. Olivia imagined they were probably back at Bali-whatever having sex. If she had been that age, that’s what she would’ve been doing. Gladdie was jumping on the sofa with impunity as though it were her very own trampoline. No one said a word to correct her.

  “There you are!” Bob said loudly. “Did you get some breakfast, I hope?”

  “Oh, yes,” Nick said. “I’m raring to go!”

  “Then let’s get out of here! I hear the call of the links!” Sam said and then added in a falsetto voice, “Play me! Play me!”

  “Someone needs a caffeine intervention,” Olivia whispered to Nick. Nick smiled.

  “I have sun block for everyone,” Buddy said. “And lip balm. What are you girls going to do today?”

  “I’m going for a hike to find the lemurs!” Olivia said.

  “That figures.” Dorothy said, sighing with deep boredom. “I’m getting a hot stone massage with ancient Vedic oils.” She glanced in Bob’s direction. “My skin will feel like velvet for days.”

  In a pig’s eye, Olivia thought. It was an expression of Nick’s that she loved.

  Hearing Dorothy, Ellen frowned. Competition was one hundred percent unwelcome, even from a cadaver. Bob looked straight at Dorothy as though she were crazy. B
ut Maritza was completely composed; either she had not heard or she was ignoring Dorothy’s overt invitation to Bob.

  “That sounds yummy,” Maritza said.

  “Interesting word choice,” Dorothy said and cut her eyes in Bob’s direction again. “It’s true. My skin will taste yummy.”

  Dorothy was just too much, even for Bob. He found himself unable to politely overlook her words. “Sam,” he said, “please, sir, tell your wife I struggle mightily not to think of my guests as edible.”

  “Lighten up, Dorothy,” Sam said and shook his head with a trace of annoyance.

  “Oh, please,” Dorothy said. “No one has a sense of humor anymore.”

  Then Bob laughed like a polar bear and all the other guys except Nick, joined in, guffawing like the pandering frat boys they were. Bob ignored Maritza but wagged his manicured (no polish, thank you) finger at Dorothy on the way out.

  “You’re a very bad girl,” Bob said to Dorothy.

  “Thank you,” Dorothy said. “I’d like to be.”

  Olivia and Anne saw the sadness in Maritza’s eyes. Lola was engrossed in her phone but looked up to see the tiny drama that had just unfolded. Lola frowned at Anne.

  “Jesus Christ,” Ellen muttered, but loudly enough for all the women to hear.

  Dorothy was pleased with the attention and knew, or at least thought, that the first hook had been sunk into the soft tissue of Bob’s curiosity. All men are the same, she thought. He’ll be back for more.

  Anne Fritz made note of Dorothy’s wide grin of satisfaction, wondering what Dorothy was up to. Was she actually making a brazen play for Bob or did she think she was funny? And Ellen? There was no doubt in her mind that Ellen was engaged in some sort of inappropriate behavior with Bob. You would have had to be made of stone not to feel the electrical voltage in the air between them. But since any of them had yet to catch the lovebirds in flagrante delicto, she really did not feel it was within her professional boundaries to deliver a judgment call to Maritza. At least not yet. Still, she felt very badly for Maritza. Anne had thought numerous times that Maritza was too sweet for her own good.

  When the men were out of earshot, Ellen stood up and said, “I’m taking Gladdie for a swim. Anyone want to come along?”

  Gladdie hopped off the sofa and ran to Maritza’s side, grabbing her around the legs.

  “Come, Mommy! Come with us!”

  “Not right now, sweetheart. I think I’d like to take a walk with Olivia and Anne, if y’all want to go? Mommy needs some exercise.”

  “Bad mommy!” Gladdie said and put a pout on her pudgy pint-size face about the size of China.

  Provoked for Maritza’s sake, Olivia said, “Gladdie, sweetie, that’s not a nice thing to say. Your mother loves you very much and deserves your respect.”

  “Why?” Gladdie said.

  “Because she’s your mother,” Olivia said. “If you didn’t have a mommy, I think you’d be a very sad little girl, wouldn’t you?”

  Maritza gasped but then started to laugh. Ellen looked at Maritza as though she’d lost her last marble, but then that was how the majority of them looked at Maritza all the time.

  “Ellen? You and Gladdie go on for a swim and meet us back here at one thirty, okay? And, Gladdie? Don’t even think such things. If you’re a good girl, I’ll take you for a swim this afternoon. How’s that?”

  “I don’t want to go swimming with you anymore!”

  “I’ll get you chocolate ice cream?” Maritza said in a singsong voice, reaching out to tickle Gladdie’s ribs.

  Unfortunately, as Maritza got close to her, Gladdie slapped her hard right across the face. The women fell silent.

  Whoo! That kid can pack one helluva wallop for a four-year-old, Olivia thought.

  “Somebody needs to show that kid who’s boss!” Dorothy whispered.

  Michelle’s face was expressionless, but her jaw was slack, as was Anne’s.

  Ellen said, “No comment.”

  “What happened?” Lola said, looking up from Words with Friends on her iPhone.

  For as much as Ellen, probably Michelle, and definitely Dorothy wished Maritza would simply vaporize; and as much as Anne and even Lola just wanted a chance to enjoy a few days in a place like this without a dramatic presentation; and as much as Olivia felt genuine concern for Maritza’s emotional and mental health, they all wished Gladdie had not slapped her mother. It was a terrible thing to witness.

  Ellen said with exasperation, “She’s just disappointed in her mother. Again.”

  Olivia gasped. How dare Ellen say such a thing? Didn’t she realize how impressionable Gladdie was? Or did she?

  Dorothy muttered in Michelle’s direction, “She’s quite the tiny sack of hell, isn’t she?”

  Michelle said, “Oh, mon Dieu!” And she laughed.

  Anne Fritz said kindly but authoritatively, “Gladdie? Why did you do that?”

  Gladdie looked at Anne and said, “’Cause she made me mad!”

  “I see,” Anne said.

  “That wasn’t nice,” Olivia said firmly. “You should apologize to your mother at once.”

  “Sorry, Mommy.” Gladdie said. Then, having enough sense to be embarrassed, she began to cry and suck her thumb, burying herself in Ellen’s shoulder, kicking Ellen’s legs in frustration.

  “Poor Gladdie,” whispered Dorothy with a large dollop of sarcasm.

  “It’s okay, baby,” Maritza said.

  But it wasn’t okay and Maritza just wanted peace.

  “Poor Gladdie indeed,” said Michelle, thinking, Surely there are boarding schools for children of this age? “That child is feral.”

  “Michelle!” Olivia said, shocked that Michelle would be so cruel, but on second thought, as long as people drank wine, Michelle’s business with Bob would remain intact. She had nothing to lose by speaking her mind.

  So while precocious Gladdie had no idea what feral meant, she knew from Michelle’s tone that it was not a good thing to be. She began hollering somewhere up in the diva operatic range that could shatter glass. Ellen clung to Gladdie’s twisting and lurching body with a tight grip, then proceeded to give a scathing look to each woman, including Maritza.

  “Thanks for stirring the pot, ladies,” Ellen said and left, with Gladdie screeching like every demon in hell. “We’ll be in the kiddie pool.”

  “Good Lord,” Lola said.

  “I know,” Maritza said. “Every day I thank God she wasn’t twins. She sure can be a handful. Shall we take that walk?”

  Handful? Olivia thought.

  “Actually?” Dorothy said. “I have a date with that lovely hammock in the shade over there.”

  Yeah, we wouldn’t want to tan that anorexic skin of yours, Olivia thought.

  “I thought you were getting a yummy massage with yummy Vedic oils so that you could be yummy,” Michelle said and smiled at Dorothy, silently calling her an asshole.

  So what do you know? Olivia suppressed a grin and thought, There’s life in Michelle after all?

  “Ladies!” Anne said to them in a warning tone, hoping to avoid a potential catfight, and then turned to Maritza. “I’ll walk with you another time, Olivia. Lola and I wanted to get in a game of tennis before the sun is too high.”

  “No problem,” Maritza said. “Michelle?”

  “I have a mountain of email to answer before the close of business in France. But I’ll see you at lunch?”

  Was Michelle actually being pleasant? Was it a full moon? Was Mercury retrograde?

  “That’s just fine. You ready, Olivia?”

  “Sure! Let’s go,” Olivia said.

  They began their brisk walk, heading out in a southeastern direction, taking the pathway toward the Crocodile Pavilion. They stopped at Lo Road.

  “You were right to say what you said to Gladdie. Thank you,” Maritza said.

  “Well, you’re nice to say so. I was just defending you and the institution of motherhood.”

  “Sometimes it’s so hard for me to
know what to do and say, you know what I mean?”

  “Yes, I do. But I also know that I’ve never met a single woman who wishes she’d been more permissive with her children.”

  Olivia watched as Maritza’s face went from the depths of insecurity and uncertainty to firm resolve. Then her good nature took over and she began to smile.

  “Olivia? You’re right! You are so right! Somebody has to be in charge, and it ain’t gonna be that child of mine! Or her nanny!”

  “That’s the spirit!”

  “Ha-ha! Now, I studied the map. We can go on down to the water, kick off our sandals, and walk along the ocean. Or we can climb up to the salt pond to see the flamingos.” Maritza said. “What do you think?”

  “Flamingos!” Olivia said. “Are you kidding? I love them!”

  “Me too! Flamingos it is!”

  When they reached the edges of the salt pond area, Maritza began to squeal with delight. One hundred or more bright pink flamingos were there, wading in the shallow waters, feeding on the tiny crustaceans that give them their spectacular color.

  “Olivia! Look at them! I have to bring Gladdie here! They’re moving together like the Rockettes! Have you ever?”

  “Esther Williams lives on,” Olivia said.

  “Who?”

  “Esther Williams. She pioneered synchronized swimming about a thousand years before you were born.”

  “Oh, well. Wow. I’ve never seen anything so pretty and funny in all my life as these crazy birds. Just look at them! I just can’t stop looking at them.”

  Olivia watched them for a few minutes, smiling because of Maritza’s happiness. She had a moment of insight, acknowledging that she rarely ever let herself show Maritza’s level of excitement over anything. She admired Maritza then and wanted to do something nice for her.

  “If you’d like, we could incorporate these exact flamingos into a fabric.”

  Maritza became very excited. “We could? Are you serious? You’d do that for me? Oh, Olivia! I’d just about die!”

  “Don’t die!” Olivia said and smiled. Maritza’s innocent charm was growing on her. She snapped a dozen or so pictures with her phone. “We can have it woven into something fabulous for your Time Warner co-op! Like a drill tape border for linen curtains for a guest room? Or if you buy a beach house at some point?”