Same Beach, Next Year

Don’t screw with my intuition, Mr. Stanley, I thought. And then I laughed out loud.

Once I had the kitchen under control and a bar set up, I went to our bedroom closet to see what to wear. I try to be stylish in my wardrobe choices and in every area of my life. I chose my clothes carefully, looking for flattering silhouettes, generally in solid colors, and then accessorized accordingly. The truth was that my body had betrayed me by failing to return to its normal size after I delivered the twins. It didn’t matter how much jogging I did or how many hours I spent in exercise classes. I’d never have a tiny waist again. Other assets seemed to be traveling south as well. But there was nothing to be gained by fretting over things that I could not change. So I continued doing aerobics and hoped for the best. I placed several sundresses out on the bed and stood back. One was a long white tank dress with a deep V-neck. It showcased the girls. The other two were black. Black was too serious. The white dress would look better on me with my tan. So I showered, moisturized from one end to the other, and piled my crazy hair into a knot at the nape of my neck.

I owned a lot of turquoise and silver Native American jewelry—mostly Zuni. And I loved coral too. I had been collecting pearls for years and owned yards of them in every size and hue—white, pink, champagne, and gray. I had my eye on a pair of South Sea deep-charcoal-colored pearl earrings with little diamonds around them. Adam knew it.

“Maybe for a significant birthday,” he had said.

I had brought some great outfits with me to the Isle of Palms, but none of them were clothes to leave my husband’s old girlfriend in a state of wonder.

While applying my makeup, I could hear Adam and the boys rummaging around downstairs. They’d want a cold drink. I heard the refrigerator door open and close several times. I was right. I hurried to the stairwell and called to them.

“Did you kids shower off outside?”

“Yes, ma’am!” they called back.

“I made sure they did, and they’re sort of dry,” Adam called to me.

“Boys! Don’t sit on the sofa in a wet swimsuit!” They’d ruin the night before it got started. “Get up here! We have company coming!”

I went back to my bathroom, but when the twins failed to appear, I quickly went to the stairwell and called to them once more. I intended to get them moving before they picked through the cocktail food and got sand everywhere, wreaking mayhem on my carefully orchestrated party scene, such as it could be staged in a bare-bones rental house.

“Max? Luke? Y’all come when I call you, you hear me?”

“Coming!”

The boys ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. I had to back up against the wall so they wouldn’t plow into me. I looked at them and my heart melted a little. They were shirtless again, and the freckles that were scattered across their noses and cheeks were becoming more pronounced with each passing day. And they had peanut butter and grape jelly around their mouths. I thought then that the good Lord didn’t make little boys any more adorable than mine.

“You know, you are going to have supper,” I said.

“We were starving,” Luke said.

I just shook my head. Boys are simply eating machines.

“Okay, I want y’all to get out of your swimsuits right now, put on your pajamas, and brush your teeth. We have company coming in less than an hour. I’ll let you skip your baths tonight.”

“We swam off all the salt in the pool anyway,” Max said.

“That’s not the same thing as a warm bath with soap,” I said.

“Yay! No bath!” Luke said.

“Can we stay up late? Please? Please?” Max said.

“If you behave yourselves. Got it? Okay, I’ll fix your toothbrushes for you. Let’s get going!”

I put a squirt of toothpaste on their toothbrushes, hurried down the stairs to preheat the oven, and rushed back up the stairs, checking on the boys’ progress. For once, they were doing as I asked them to do.

“Good boys!” I said. “Brush every single tooth and rinse good, you hear me?”

I went back to the bathroom once again and finished applying my makeup as well as I could without a magnifying mirror. I stood back and looked at myself.

Not bad, I thought.

I was about to meet my husband’s former paramour. I wished then that I was entertaining this awful woman in my own home, surrounded by our belongings, instead of in this rental condo that came fully furnished with utilitarian, clunky things we wouldn’t have even considered owning. I felt if Eve could see all the photographs of me with Adam and our sons she’d back off—that is, if she had any intentions that were not honorable.

“I must be out of my mind to let this woman in here,” I said to the thin air.

Ten minutes later, promptly at six, the doorbell rang. Adam and the boys answered it as I looked across the long dining room–living room. There came Eve in the palest blue linen shirt and white pants with white sandals, gliding into our lives like a swan. Her blond hair was blown out straight and hung below her shoulders. She looked angelic. I hated her on sight. But behind her was the most handsome man I had ever seen in my entire life, if you liked his type. He was tanned and fit. Obviously athletic.

A Norse god! I thought.

I liked his type.

I was paralyzed, totally unable to put down the sheet tray of pigs in blankets to leave the kitchen and greet my guests. Maybe I wouldn’t hate the evening as much as I thought.

Move! I told myself. Close your mouth! Your jaw is hanging open!

Finally, I cleared my throat, tightened my abdominals, and moved out into the living room to say hello. And I managed to put the tray down on the coffee table.

We were all struggling with our abs today, weren’t we? Except these two, I thought.

“These are our boys, Luke and Max,” Adam said.

“She doesn’t look like a stick,” Max said.

Adam covered Max’s mouth with his own hand and said, “Max is the family comedian.”

“That’s okay,” Eve said. “I’m still too skinny. Still can’t gain weight!”

Oh please, I thought, go kill yourself.

“Make yourself scarce,” Adam said to Max and Luke.

“Okay!” they said and took off for upstairs with Rufus. “Come on, boy!”

“And this is my wife, Eliza,” Adam said, smiling as widely as a largemouth bass.

“Hey! How’re y’all doing?” I said, trying to relax.

“Let’s get you a glass of something?” Adam said and moved toward the bar I had set up on the dining table. Eve was right at Adam’s side. “What’ll it be? White wine? Scotch? Vodka? A beer?”

I looked at Eve’s husband, who finally made eye contact with me, and when he did I was sure I was naked. Or at least half dressed.

“Hi, I’m Carl,” he said. He took my hand into his and held it as he appraised me with his sparkling green eyes.

He had the thickest eyelashes I had ever seen on a man, blond fringe awnings, actually. And he was still holding my hand.

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