“Take a deep breath,” Vivi Ann said.
“What is she, in labor? Breathing never works. I say we get her a straight shot,” was Aurora’s advice.
“We are not getting her drunk before her date.” Vivi Ann laughed. “Besides, lately that’s your advice for everything.”
“Consistency is a virtue,” Aurora said primly. “I’ll be right back.” She left the house and was back in a flash with her makeup kit (housed in a designer case that was as big as a tackle box) and a pretty pink box from the clothing store on Main Street.
“What’s all that?” Winona asked. “I only called you guys fifteen minutes ago.”
“We were waiting for it,” Vivi Ann said. “Remember when the banker from Shelton asked you out? You were a wreck.”
“And that teacher from Silverdale. I think you actually puked before he got here,” Aurora added.
“She did.”
Winona collapsed onto her garage-sale sofa, realizing for the first time that it kind of smelled like gasoline. “I’m hopeless.”
Vivi Ann sat down beside her. “No. You’re hopeful. That’s your problem. Maybe this guy is finally the one. Your Neo.”
“Do you have to use the word finally? And I hated those Matrix movies, you know that. They made no sense.”
“She’s looking for Tom Hanks in Sleepless,” Aurora said. They all knew—but never said—that since Luke had gotten married seven years ago, Winona had grown increasingly despondent over her romantic future. Her self-esteem—never high when it came to men—had fallen below sea level. “Come on, let’s get this intervention going. Ricky is coming home from school this weekend, and I want to make his favorite enchiladas.”
Winona let herself be carried away by their enthusiasm and self-declared proficiency. Vivi Ann painstakingly straightened Winona’s long hair, layer by layer, until it fell in silken columns along her face. Aurora applied makeup with a surprisingly restrained hand—smoky violet smudges beneath her mascaraed lashes, a sweep of rose-hued blush, a lipstick just bright enough to bring out the color of her eyes.
“Wow,” Winona said, smiling at her reflection. “Too bad he can’t just take my head out to dinner.”
Aurora came up behind her, holding a gauzy black sundress with a plunging vee bodice and crinkly skirt that fell from an empire waist.
“My arms will show,” Winona said.
“So will your boobs,” Aurora said, helping Winona out of her T-shirt while Vivi Ann helped her out of her sweatpants. “Did you shave?”
“I’m not a complete moron.”
“I don’t know about that. Here.”
Winona let Aurora pull the stretchy dress over her head. It fell easily into place and she turned back to the mirror and tried to see herself through his eyes: a tall, big-boned woman with a pretty enough face and flabby arms wearing a black, summery dress that showed off her cleavage. Absent liposuction, this was as good as she was likely to look. “Thanks, guys.”
Aurora studied her. Removing one dangling red earring and then the other, she handed them to Winona. “Wear these. And try not to talk about your campaign.”
“Why not?”
“You can’t avoid going into mind-numbing detail. Especially when you start talking about refurbishing downtown. Trust me. Zip it.”
Winona looked to Vivi Ann for confirmation. “Really?”
Vivi Ann grinned. “Really.”
Aurora looked at her watch. “It’s five forty-five. I gotta go.” She hugged them both and left.
“Don’t freak out about this one, okay?” Vivi Ann said. “He’s lucky to have you.”
“Thanks,” Winona said, wishing she could believe it. “Noah asked if he could work till nine. Is that okay with you?”
“Sure. I’ll come back and get him when he calls. He’s been great to be around the past few days. Actually smiling. It’s like he’s gone back to the kid he was before the hormones hit. And I think a lot of it is thanks to you.”
“I haven’t done anything major.”
“Winona Grey not taking credit for something? Is there a new world order?”
“Very funny.”
Vivi Ann gave her a big hug, kissed her on the cheek, told her goodbye, and went outside, where she talked to Noah for a few minutes longer, and then left.
Winona immediately began pacing. She was like one of those polar bears in the zoo, wearing a groove into the ground at the fence line, slowly going mad. She hated first dates; there was so much hope. And God knew she’d learned how dangerous that crystalline emotion could be. Every time she met a new guy, she thought: Maybe he’s the one; maybe he’ll finally make me forget about Luke.
“Aunt Winona?”
She stopped pacing, thankful for the distraction. “You don’t have to keep working tonight, you know.”
“I want to. Otherwise I’d just chill in my room and play Xbox.” He grinned. “Oh, that’s right. My insane mother took my Xbox when I got suspended from school.”
“So you’re saying that scraping poop off wood is all you have to do on a Saturday night?”
“Jeez. Way to make me feel like a loser.”
“Sorry.”
He nodded and stood there, staring at her. It occurred to her that he’d cleaned up—his shiny hair was in a ponytail and his sleeveless T-shirt and board shorts actually fit him. He was still wearing those ridiculously swollen skateboarder’s shoes, but not all fashion battles could be won at once.
“You look like you want to say something.”
He sat down on the arm of the sofa. “What do you do when you like someone?”
“I tend to vomit,” she said, laughing. Then she looked at him. “Oh. You mean it. Well . . .” She walked over and sat on the old-fashioned milk crate she was using these days as a coffee table. “Different people will give you different answers, and I’m certainly no expert, but what I care about most are honesty and respect. If a guy gives me that, I’m happy.”
“Have you ever been in love?”
The question surprised her. No one had asked her that in a long time, and it wasn’t something she asked herself, and yet once the words were in the air she couldn’t pretend not to have heard. As expected, the image of Luke came to her mind, more clearly than it had any right to. She wished she could just forget about him, but she couldn’t. He was The One for her. As Vivi Ann would say, her Neo. He was the yardstick by which all other men were judged. And he’d never loved her in return. How pathetic was that? “A long time ago, yeah,” she answered.
“What happened?”
She wanted to lie, say nothing, or make an excuse, but when she looked into her nephew’s earnest eyes, she was reminded of the thing she’d learned because of Luke. Lies and omissions had a way of expanding; like too deep a layer of fertilizer, they could kill everything beneath. “He didn’t love me back.”
“That blows.”
She couldn’t help smiling. “Yes, it does. He’s married now. With two little kids.”
“Maybe he still thinks about you.”
“Maybe.” Winona got up, suddenly eager to end this conversation. “Well. It’s six. Mark should be here any minute. I’ll leave the house open for you just in case you need to use the restroom. There’s plenty of food in the fridge.”
The doorbell rang.
“He’s here,” Winona said nervously. “So scat. And stay out of my booze,” she teased, watching him leave. As soon as he was gone, she went to the front door, opening it.
Mark held out a bouquet of flowers. “Is this cliché? Do guys still give flowers on a date?”
She saw that he was as nervous as she was and it calmed her down. “The good ones do. Come in while I put them in water. Can I get you a drink?”
“I don’t drink.”
She turned to him. “Is there a story there?”
Without looking at her, he nodded. “Are you okay dating a dry alcoholic?”
“I look forward to it.”
He took her elbow and guid
ed her out the door and across her bumpy, untended yard, through the freshly clipped arch in the hedge, and into his beautifully restored home. Everywhere she looked there was something exquisite: a massive marble hearth, hand-cut and brought over from Italy; a four-hundred-year-old silk prayer rug from Iran, mounted on black velvet and framed in gold; hand-blown glass light fixtures from Venice.
She followed him down to a toffee-colored media room, full of overstuffed furniture and dominated by a big-screen TV. Cissy sat curled up in an upholstered chair, eating ice cream and watching a movie.
“Hey,” she said, hitting the pause button. The image on-screen froze. Hugh Jackman as Wolverine was caught in midair.
Mark leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll have my cell phone on. We should be home about ten or eleven.”
“Call me when you leave the restaurant so I know when to expect you. Otherwise I wouldn’t know when to panic.”
Winona smiled. It was the kind of thing she would have said to her sisters.
Mark led Winona back upstairs and out onto the deck. There, he grabbed a cooler and a blanket.
“Are we going camping?” she asked.
“Follow me.”
He led her down to his dock and out to the ski boat, where he settled her into the seat beside him.
They puttered away from the dock, motored through the flat, calm water. Every now and then a water-skier or a Jet-Skier would zip past, causing a wake to rock the boat, but for the most part it was peaceful on this blue June evening. There were no clouds in the sky, nothing to cast a shadow on the water. It was a deep, rich green at this time of the day, flat calm.
Winona studied the houses along the shoreline, noticing how many newer, bigger houses had sprung up in the last few years. She wondered how long it would take for this whole area to be changed beyond recognition. Mark maneuvered the boat up to the Alderbrook Lodge’s long public dock, tying up next to a gorgeous old wooden yacht called The Olympus.
He helped her out of the boat, paid the dockmaster a moorage fee, and together they headed toward land.
The newly redone Alderbrook was a full-service resort built on the foundation of what had once been a quaint family-owned lodge. On a stunningly gorgeous stretch of beach that overlooked the placid Canal and the sawtooth range of the Olympic Mountains, every room and cabin was exquisite. Built of stone and wood and glass, it was a perfect expression of new upscale Northwest chic.
At the restaurant, the hostess seated them at a table along the window, and almost from the first moment they were talking. Mark told her about the year he and Cissy had traveled the world, and the amazing things they’d seen. He’d described Thailand and Angkor Wat and Egypt in the kind of detail that made her yearn to go.
“I would love to see those places,” she said when dinner was over and they were sitting in big plastic Adirondack chairs on the resort’s grassy lawn. Night was falling finally; the sky was a brilliant smear of striated hues—orange, pink, lavender. The water had gone black, with only the lapping sound of the waves to remind you that it was alive and awake.
“Have you ever traveled?”
“No, not really.”
“Why?”
Winona shrugged. “My mom died when I was fifteen and I had to grow up fast. After law school, I came back here to practice because my sisters and my dad needed me.”
“Your sisters were lucky to have you. When my wife left, poor Cissy had no one but me.”
It was a topic he’d danced around all night but never quite addressed. She wanted to ask him about his ex, but things were going so well she didn’t want to jinx it.
For the next few hours, they sat in the Adirondack chairs, staring out at the dimming view and talking with the ease of old friends. Winona couldn’t remember when a first date—especially a dinner date—had gone so well.
Finally, at eleven, he said, “We’d better go. I don’t like to leave Cissy alone too long.”
And he was a good parent, too.
“Sure,” Winona said, smiling at him.
After a quick call to Cissy, they motored home slowly beneath a dome of starlight and pulled up to the dock. As they walked up to her house, he held her hand, and their first kiss was everything she’d imagined: tender and firm and filled with longing. Winona’s long-dormant passion came alive, reminding her forcibly that kisses weren’t enough.
Suddenly he drew back.
“What’s wrong? It’s me, isn’t it? You aren’t attracted to me.”
“It isn’t you. It’s me.”
A George Costanza line. She’d expected more from him; that had been her mistake. “Okay.” She sighed and turned away.
“Win.” He reached for her hand and forced her to look at him.
“You don’t have to put on a big show. It’s fine. I get it, believe me. I just thought we were getting along, that’s all.”
“That’s the problem.”
“You lost me.”
“My wife. Ironically, her name was Sybil. I should have seen that as a sign instead of a joke. Anyway, I love her.” He paused, glancing out at the water as he whispered, “Loved her.”
“And?”
He shrugged. “I wish I knew what happened. That’s what kicks the shit out of me. I thought we were happy. Until I came home to an empty house and a Sorry, Mark note. She fell in love with her Pilates instructor and she was gone. Just like that. Cissy and I didn’t know what hit us.”
“That must have been terrible.”
“Don’t give up on me. Can I just say that? I know I have no right to ask, but I am anyway. Don’t give up.”
“Believe me, Mark. Giving up isn’t something I know how to do.”
“Okay, then.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll call you.”
“You know where I am,” she said, then watched him leave her. He walked across the deck and over to his property line, where he disappeared into the dark black hedge.
She couldn’t help wondering how long she’d have to wait for his next call.
Last night was el primo night of my life. As soon as Aunt Winona and Mark left on their date, I walked up the ramp to the yard and waited. My heart was beating so hard I thought I was gonna puke. I can’t describe how it felt to see her coming through the opening in the hedge and know that she wanted to be with me.
I asked her if she wanted to watch a movie, but she said it was such a pretty night we should just lay down in the grass and talk. And That’s what we did. I brought a blanket from Aunt Winona’s guest room and spread it out over the bumpy grass and Cissy got us some Cokes and chips from her house and we laid down right beside each other and talked about stuff.
It was so awesome. She told me how her mom just left one day and didn’t come back and never even called, and how her dad started drinking when it happened. She started crying when she was talking and I didn’t know what I should do. I wanted to say the right thing only I know there’s nothing you can say. Maybe That’s why my mom never talks about my dad. Sometimes shit just hurts and That’s the way it is.
She made this little sound when I touched her, kinda like a tire going flat, and I could tell that she’d stopped looking at the sky and was staring at me. Thanks, she said, I been hoping you’d do that.
What about you? she said later, what’s the story of your life? I know she’s gonna hear it all sooner or later, so I tried to tell her, but couldn’t. I looked into her eyes and saw how much she liked me and I just couldn’t ruin it. So I told her other stuff. Like how Brian and Erik Jr. talk trash around me and sometimes I lose my temper and how I’ve been suspended a couple of times for fighting. I even told her I started some of them.
I waited for her to say what everyone says which is what were you thinking? Like I’m an idiot. No one gets how I feel when Brian calls me injun boy. It’s like that time I was riding Renegade and we turned a corner and saw a cougar. Renegade spooked and reared so fast I was lucky not to fall off. That’s what happens when
I hear shit like that—I spook. And instead of running, I fight.
So I waited to hear what Cissy would say. I didn’t want her to think I was a chicken or a bully. I was so worried I barely heard her say I know how you feel.
The worst part, she said, was pretending it didn’t hurt all the time.
That’s when I kissed her. I didn’t even think about it. I just saw her start to smile, and I knew how she felt and how I felt and I kissed her.
Of course that was exactly when my mom drove up. Cissy and I were laughing as we grabbed our stuff and put it away—all without Mom seeing anything. She honked her horn when I was out on the deck with Cissy. I almost said I love you but I knew she’d laugh at me, so I just said Later instead, and she said Later back.
But when I was practically up at the truck, I heard her whisper my name and I turned.
Meet me tomorrow, she said.
Where?
My mom was inside the truck, waving at me, like I hadn’t seen her in a year.
At the state park, Cissy whispered, after lunch.
It was a good thing I put a seatbelt on when I got in the truck, cause I felt like I’d just fly away.
You look happy, Mom said when she turned onto the highway.
That’s what this feeling is, I guess.
Winona couldn’t sleep. Turning on the light in her bedroom, she slipped into her favorite pink terrycloth robe and went to the kitchen.
Nothing in the fridge appealed to her, so she made a cup of herbal tea and carried it outside. Leaning up to the railing, she stared out at the inky water. A slivered moon hung suspended above the invisible mountains, casting almost no light. After all her years in town she’d forgotten how dark it was among the trees and along the shore. If not for the water breathing along the sand there would be no sound at all.
It made her feel even more alone, all this quiet darkness. At her house on First Street, she often went onto her back porch in the evenings. There, she could sit in her glider and look out over the Canal House Bed and Breakfast and the beach park parking lot. Even in the dead of winter on a cold and frosty night, there was light and movement, and she was, however tangentially, a part of it.