The Beach House (27 page)

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Authors: Jane Green

Tags: #Fiction, #General

BOOK: The Beach House
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“You look exquisite,” says the woman in the shop, and Daff almost hugs her, for it is true, she looks quite beautiful. Quite unlike herself. Her eyes are sparkling, her skin is glowing, and she feels excited, as if she is on the brink of something wonderful, as if there is a world of possibilities out there, all of which are waiting for her to just come and grab them.
Back home, Daff spends a long time getting ready. Nan lets her soak in the large claw-footed tub in her own bathroom, and Daff sits at the dressing table, rolling her hair in fuzzy Velcro curlers so it falls in exactly the waves she had imagined.
Just a touch of makeup, some bronzer to bring out her tan, mascara to emphasize her eyes, a slick of clear lipgloss, and it’s true: tonight Daff is no longer a dowdy housewife, frazzled working mother and divorcée. Tonight Daff is a temptress. Beautiful. Exotic. Able to get anything she wants.
“Wow!” Daniel whistles as Daff walks out of her room.
“You look like a princess,” Stella gasps.
“Thank you.” Daff twirls. “You like?”
“You look stunning,” Daniel says. “Could this be for anyone special?” He winks and Daff blushes.
“I just wanted to wear something other than shorts and a T-shirt.”
“Well, if you did want to impress anyone, that would be the dress for it.”
Stella and Lizzie continue looking at Daff in awe as she takes their hands and follows Daniel down the stairs. Just as they reach the bottom the doorbell rings.
“Shall we?”
“I’ll go.” Daniel opens the door to see a small, skinny blond on the doorstep. She is dressed head to toe in black, black Prada sandals on her feet and giant diamond studs in her ears.
“Hi,” she says, clearly nervous. “Is Michael here?”
“Yes.” Daniel opens the door wider and gestures for her to come in, sneaking a raised eyebrow at Daff. “Who shall I say is here for him?”
“I’m Jordana,” she says, and Daff, standing there in all her finery, suddenly feels like bursting into tears.
Jessica has never felt quite this high. There is a buzzing in her ears, and although she is aware that Alexandra is talking to her, she can’t hear anything she says. She tries to stay focused on the door, waiting for the mad rush that will sweep her up and carry her home; and they almost make it, they’re almost there, when Jess feels a heavy hand on her shoulder.
She turns, fear in her eyes and her breath catching in her throat, to look into the eyes of a huge security guard.
“Miss?” he says. “Will you please come with me?”
“What?” Jess tries to shrug him off, puts on a half-hearted act of teenage defiance. “What have I done?”
“If you could just come with me.” He doesn’t let go of her arm, and Alexandra stands there, wide-eyed with terror, as he starts to lead Jess off.
“It’s all a mistake,” Jess says frantically to Alexandra, terrified of what will be said among her friends if they find out. “Call my dad.” And with that she is gone.
“There’s someone here to see you,” Daniel says softly to Michael. “She’s in the hall, waiting. It’s Jordana.”
“Oh ha ha.” Michael snorts. “Very funny.”
“He’s not joking,” Daff says, and one look at the sorrow in her eyes and Michael knows Daniel is serious.
“Oh shit,” he whispers, the color draining from his face. “What is she doing here?”
“I don’t know,” Daniel says. “But you can’t just leave her in the hall. I told her you’d be right there.”
“Oh man,” Michael groans, knowing that his evening is now ruined, knowing that whatever she has come for, it cannot be good. “Okay. Let me go and see her. Daff, can you take my mom to the party? I’ll be there just as soon as I can.”
Daff nods.
“I’m on babysitting duty tonight,” Daniel says. “But I can take the girls out if you need some private time?”
“No, no. It’s fine. This won’t take long.” He sighs long and hard, running his fingers through his hair. “Let me go and see what she wants.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Jordana sits down gratefully in the living room; she didn’t think her legs would be strong enough to support her. She is so nervous she almost stopped the car on the way over here, to throw up.
She wasn’t going to come here, wasn’t planning to come, but she missed Michael so much, knew that if she could only see him, if he could only see
her,
he would realize how much they had together, how much he was throwing away.
Jordana had been, after all, the most beautiful and popular girl in her town. She was the cheerleader that all the boys wanted to go out with, she was the one who had her pick, was surrounded by the popular girls and the cutest boys.
People didn’t walk away from Jordana. Jordana walked away from
people,
and rejection was not something she took lightly, was not something, in fact, she had had much experience of at all.
“I’ve missed you,” she says, looking into Michael’s face for a sign of some of the warmth, the love she is convinced is still there, but his face, for the time being, is cold.
“It’s been a few weeks,” Michael says. “It feels longer. How is everything? How’s work?”
“It’s . . . okay.” She shrugs. “Not the same. I found a temporary jeweler to come in and help out. I’m in the city and Jackson’s in Manhasset pretty much permanently.”
“Are you back together?”
“No. He wants to try couples counseling, but I’m certain it’s over.”
Michael looks up and meets her eyes. “Does he know?”
“About us?” Even saying the word “us” makes her feel better. “No.” She shakes her head. “He has no idea.”
“Okay.” Michael sighs, and they sit in awkward silence for a while before he finally asks, “Jordana? Why are you here?”
She takes a deep breath, then stands up and comes over to where he is sitting on the other sofa, sinking down next to him and taking his hands. She has planned this for weeks, knows exactly what she will say, and she gazes into his eyes as she finally gets the opportunity to deliver her well-rehearsed speech for real.
“Michael, I’m here because I love you. Because what we have is special. Because I’ve never known anyone like you before in my life, and because I know, I absolutely know, that we belong together. I also know that you’re a good man, that you have so much guilt because you think of me as a married woman, and you care about Jackson, but my marriage to Jackson was over long before you and I started, and it would have ended anyway.”
“But, Jordana—”
“Wait, let me finish.” She puts up a hand to silence Michael before continuing. “I know that you don’t believe me when I tell you that I am ready to start again, ready to give it all up, and I have realized that you’re scared I’m doing all this for you, that it’s too much of a responsibility for you to take all that on, but I would have reached this point anyway. One of the things I loved about being with you is that we didn’t need expensive restaurants and fast cars and flashy jewelry to be happy. When I am with you I feel completely myself, I don’t have to prove anything to anyone. That’s how I want to live my life from now on: a simple life with none of the trappings, which have never brought me what I really wanted. Happiness.”
Michael looks at the studs glittering in her ears, the eternity ring of emerald-cut diamonds, one carat each, now resting on the fourth finger of her left hand, and decides not to comment.
“What I’ve missed with Jackson is a partnership, and that’s what I feel with you. You are the most wonderful man I’ve ever known, and you make me feel safe in a way I’ve never felt before. I came here because I can’t throw this away, it’s too important, and I know that if we do we’ll never find it again in anyone else.”
She lapses into silence, looking expectantly at Michael, who can’t meet her eyes. He is still shocked that she is here, shocked further at how dramatic her words are.
Michael is not someone who finds it easy to express himself, but if he could, he would be tempted to tell her that she’s probably seen one too many romantic movies, and ask if she is completely out of her mind.
“Well?” she says eventually, attempting a smile. “Do you have anything to say?”
“Um, Jordana . . .” He meets her eyes and sighs, unprepared, not knowing how to say it. “I think you’re an amazing woman. I think you’re strong, and beautiful, and incredibly brave for coming here and saying what you just said. Our relationship has been extraordinary, both our friendship over the last twenty years and, obviously, more recent events.” When he pauses, she smiles indulgently at him. He shakes his head. There’s no getting around it. He just has to be firm.
“But,” he says, watching as her face visibly twitches, “however wonderful a woman I think you are, and I do, I don’t think we do belong together. Not because of guilt over Jackson, but because I honestly can’t see a future for us.” He stops, sighing. “I wish I could tell you something else, but it would be a lie, and it would be wrong for me to lead you on in any way.”
“Just because you can’t see a future for us right now, doesn’t mean there isn’t one,” Jordana says quickly. “Of course it’s hard for you to visualize—after all, our worlds are so different, but if we tried, we could see. I’m not saying we have to jump into anything permanent, but we could just take things slowly, see how we go. I could prove to you that I’m right.” She attempts a smile.
“I can’t,” Michael whispers, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Jordana, but I can’t.”
“But why not? I don’t understand, why not?”
“Because I’m not in love with you,” Michael says finally, his voice still a whisper. “Because this isn’t right. This isn’t what I want.”
“But how do you know what you want? How can you know if you haven’t had it?” She is clutching at straws, and they both know it.
“Jordana, you shouldn’t have come all this way. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Please, Michael.” She feels herself close to tears, is almost embarrassed at her behavior but her feelings for him are so strong that she can’t just leave, can’t let him throw this away without a fight. “Just give us a chance. Please. I promise you won’t regret it.”
“I can’t, Jordana. You should go.”
“There’s something else,” she says, standing up.
Michael looks at her wearily, and there is fire in her eyes.
“I’m pregnant.”
“Dad?” Bee holds his hand and strokes it gently, having sat for a while watching her father snore softly. When she first saw him in the hospital she was stunned at how old he looked, but she is getting more used to it now.
He opens his eyes, squinting at the light, then slowly focuses on her.
“Bee?” He smiles and Bee leans forward, hugging him.
“Hi, Dad. How are you feeling today?”
“Not too bad. There’s still some pain, and the doctor says I need lots of rest. But I’m so glad I didn’t need the hip replacement. Not this time.”
“Thank God,” she whispers. “Can you fly?”
“I left my wings at home.” He smiles again. “Why?”
“I want you to come back to Nantucket with me, so I can look after you.”
“Ah. Nantucket. Is it still the most magical place on earth?”
Bee smiles and nods. “How long is it since you’ve been?”
“Many years.” Evan’s eyes close for a moment. “A lifetime or two.”
“So how about it, Dad? You’d love our house. And it means I could look after you properly.”
“Maybe,” Evan says, wincing. “Let me think about it.”
“What’s to think about?” Bee says firmly. “Who else is going to look after you?”
“I could get a nurse,” Evan says.
“That’s ridiculous, when you have me. The girls will love having you there, and I promise I’ll give you a quiet time.”
“How are those darling girls?” Evan smiles at the thought of them.
“They’re great. They’re enjoying some special time with Daniel.”
“What about Daniel? Are you two going to be able to patch things up, do you think? For the sake of the girls?”
She laughs bitterly. “I’d say the chances of us getting back together are slim to none. It’s a long story, Dad. One I’ll save for when you’re feeling stronger. God knows I don’t want to give you a heart attack.”
“Why not? At least I’m in the right place for it. What’s the story? Did he come out of the closet at last?”
Bee turns white. “What? How did you know?”
“Oh Beezy. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I just always had a feeling. How are you? Are you okay?”
“Oh Dad,” she says. She takes a deep breath and looks out of the window, trying to compose herself. Bee is trying so hard to be strong for her dad, to be the one to look after him, to be the grown-up, and she doesn’t mean to, but she bursts into tears.
“Ssssh.” Her dad puts his arms around her and wishes it wasn’t so painful, seeing someone you love hurt as much as this. “It’s okay, Beezy. Ssssh. Daddy’s here.”
And finally, in her father’s arms, at a hospital bedside in Stamford, Connecticut, she feels, for the first time in a long while, that someone is looking after her.
Daff wants to enjoy herself, to lose herself in the party, but every time someone new walks into the garden she looks up expectantly, hoping it will be Michael. It never is.
She was standing with Nan for a time, left to get a glass of punch, came back to find Nan being swept onto the dance floor by Jack. She smiles as she watches her, thinking what a lovely party it is, the lanterns glimmering among the trees, pretty people wandering up and down the lawns, and thinking how much better it would be if Michael were here.
“Hello.”
She turns to see a man smiling at her, extending a hand. “I’m Mark.”
“I’m Daff.”
“Daff short for Daphne?”
“It should be. That’s what everyone thinks, but it’s Delphine.
My mother was French, and when I was young my little brother couldn’t pronounce it and he called me Daff. It stuck.”
“It’s cute. So how do you know Jack?”

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