Treading Water (25 page)

“
I can come back later,”
Andi said when she saw what was on.

“
Come in. It’s a rerun.”
Betty clicked off the television and looked at her daughter.
“Everything all right?”

“
I need to talk to
you.”

“
Oh?”

Andi sat on the edge of her
mother’s bed and hesitated for a moment.
Here we go
. “Jack has asked us to
live with him in Rhode Island.”

“
You’re going.”

Andi nodded.

“
How can you uproot your
whole life for a man who can’t even marry you?”

Andi struggled to keep the anger out of her
voice. “Because I have more of a life with him in five minutes than
I do in a whole year here, and that’s enough for me.”

“
I’ve told you how I feel
about this.”

“
You’re welcome to come
with us. We’d all love that, and there’s plenty of
room.”

“
Thank you anyway, but I’ll
be staying right here in Chicago. This is my home, and I won’t be
leaving it.”

“
I’m sorry you feel that
way. I wish you could be happy for me.”

“
How can I when I see you
setting up yourself—and Eric—for disaster? He’s
married
, Andrea. I’m deeply
disappointed in you—and in him. I appreciated his kindness when
Eric was sick, but it doesn’t change anything.”

Andi got up to walk to the door. “We’re
leaving on the eighth of next month. I’ll help you move in with
Auntie Lou before then, if that’s what you’d like.”

“
That’s fine.”

Saddened, Andi went back to her room. The
conversation had gone pretty much as she’d expected, but she had
hoped her mother might’ve changed her mind about Jack—especially
after everything he did for them when Eric was sick. She knew that
if his situation had been different, Betty would’ve been delighted
to see her daughter with a man like him. Just like Jack had said
about Jill, it wasn’t personal. But knowing that didn’t take the
sting out of her mother’s words. Before she called Jack, Andi
decided to take a shower and try to get her emotions under
control.

In Rhode Island, Jack faced a daunting task
of his own. He’d decided to pack up Clare’s things while he was
alone in the house, which was eerily quiet with the girls away,
Andi and Eric back in Chicago, and Frannie on her honeymoon. Jack
couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so alone, and it seemed
like a good time to face the dreaded task.

Starting with Clare’s large walk-in closet,
he folded her clothes and placed them in boxes. He made a separate
pile of things he was certain the girls would never want, which he
would donate. Working fast, he tried to think about anything other
than what he was doing.

Once he’d finished with the hanging clothes,
he moved to the closet shelf, packing away sweaters and purses.
When he reached up to grab the next item, his hand hit a large
envelope, hidden beneath a pile of sweaters.

He spilled the contents on
the bed and froze when he realized he was looking at every card
he’d ever given Clare
—
Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day, birthdays, anniversaries, and
all the silly notes he’d written her over the years.

Staring at the pile on the bed, he felt like
he’d been gut punched. He opened one card, a Valentine, dated 1994,
in which he’d written, “I love you today, I’ll love you tomorrow,
I’ll love you forever.”

The magnitude of the loss roared through him
as if it had only just happened. He sat on the floor next to the
bed as the sharp pain of it assailed him all over again. He heard
the phone ring and knew it would be Andi but couldn’t make himself
move to get it. Only the sound of the phone ringing a second time
jogged him out of his stupor. It was after ten, and he realized
he’d been sitting there for almost an hour.

He reached for the phone. “Hello.”

“
Jack? What’s
wrong?”

“
Nothing. Can I talk to you
in the morning?”

“
You’re scaring me. Are you
sure you’re okay?”

“
I’m fine. I’ll call you in
the morning.”

“
All right. I
love—”

Clicking off the phone, he
lay awake all night next to the pile of paper on the other side of
the bed. He knew Andi would be worried about him but couldn’t bring
himself to call her back. Not yet. He just couldn’t believe Clare
had kept
everything,
and the sheer size of the pile on the bed said volumes about
the years they’d spent loving each other so completely.

He studied the small mountain of paper Clare
had saved and let his thoughts wander again to the night he met her
on Block Island.

Chapter 18

Jack waited for her while she finished at
work and then walked with her down the stairs from the National
Hotel’s porch.

She called good night to her coworkers on
the way out. A few seemed concerned when they saw her leaving with
a customer, but she just smiled and waved.

Jack had always envied the camaraderie he
saw among the young people who worked in the island’s tourist
industry. They lived in places that pulsed with music, teemed with
people, were cluttered with laundry hanging off decks and had bikes
lying on lawns. It’d always seemed like the ideal way to spend a
summer.

“
Do you live in the
employee housing?” Jack asked Clare.

“
Hell no.” She laughed as
they walked along the waterfront, which was still crowded even
after the bars closed. “I did that the first three years, and it
was really fun. Then I grew up a bit, and the idea of spending
another summer living like that lost its appeal. I rent a place
with a college friend. She works at Aldo’s.”

“
Where’d you go to
school?”

“
UConn. I grew up in
Hartford, and a lot of my friends went there. They have a good
education program. I know it’s not Harvard, but I liked
it.”

“
Am I ever going to hear
the end of that?”

“
Probably not,” she said
with a saucy grin. “A friend is having a party on the beach
tonight. Want to go?”

Not wanting to appear too eager, Jack
pondered the offer. “Is he your boyfriend?”

“
Are you
fishing?”

“
Maybe,” he said, amazed at
how easy it was to talk to her.

“
No, he’s not my boyfriend
and neither is anyone else. I haven’t been too lucky in that
department.”

“
I can’t believe
that.”

“
Believe it. What about
you? Where’s your girlfriend?”

“
Going to school full time
and working for Neil has left me with just enough time to eat and
sleep a few hours a day. What girl wants to be around
that?”

“
Oh, come on, a handsome
Harvard boy like you must have all the girlfriends he can handle,”
she said, giggling at his playful scowl.

He shook his head with regret even as he
delighted in the compliment. “I never should’ve told you that.”

“
No, you shouldn’t have. So
do you want to come to the party?”

They stopped walking. She seemed tiny and
almost vulnerable despite her sassiness, and he couldn’t believe
how drawn he was to her after just meeting her. “I’ll go if you
behave and not tell everyone I went to Harvard.”

“
Wow, that’s a tall order,”
she said with a twinkle in her eye as she rubbed her chin. “Not
sure I can do that.”

He folded his arms and contemplated the
impish look on her face. “Well, I need assurances or all bets are
off.”

“
If you’re going to be a
total pain about it, I’ll keep your pedigree a secret.”

He laughed to himself, thinking that she
didn’t know the half of his pedigree. He’d be in for it when she
found out about his father’s banks.

They arrived at the beach where the party
was in full swing with a raging bonfire and two kegs of beer in ice
buckets on the sand—just the kind of party Jack used to watch from
a distance when he was with his family. His father had never
approved of the partying the summer kids did every chance they
got.

Clare greeted her friends and introduced
Jack. She got them beers before they walked down to the water’s
edge, ducking around a glow-in-the-dark Frisbee football game.
People called out greetings to her as they walked along.

“
Do you know everyone here,
or does it just seem like it?” Jack asked.

“
Not
everyone
. I’ve been out here for
years with some of them. There’s a group that works here in the
summer and in Vail during ski season.”

“
That sounds so
cool.”

“
You think so? I only come
back every year because the money’s great. I make more out here in
three months than I do all year teaching.”

“
Seriously?”

“
Yup, it’s an awesome gig.
My mother freaks every year when I tell her I’m coming back. But I
love it. Even though we work really hard, we have a lot of fun,
too.”

He looked around at the party going strong
at damned near two in the morning. “I can see what you mean. I
always wanted to do this,” he said, gesturing to the party. “But my
old man wouldn’t hear of it. When I was old enough to work, I had
to go with him during the week, and then we came back out on the
weekends.”

The spark of interest in her eyes told him
he’d said too much.

“
Your family spent summers
out here?”

“
Uh-huh. So where in
Hartford did you live?”

“
No, you don’t. Back up. Do
you still have a place out here?”

“
Maybe,” he said with a
sheepish grin.

“
Oh, this is going to be
good.” She tossed her head back and laughed. “How bad is
it?”

“
Pretty bad.” When he
looked down into those magnificent blue eyes and leaned in to kiss
her, he felt the connection go through him like an electrical
current. The smell of sand and rotting seaweed would always remind
him of that moment.

He felt her hand encircle the back of his
neck, and they kissed for a long moment as the water lapped at
their feet and the party went on around them.

She pulled away after a minute. “That’s one
way to change the subject.”

He laughed. “Did it work?”

“
Not on your life, buddy.
Now spill it.” She put her hands on her hips and crooked that
eyebrow at him again.

“
Haven Hill,” he said,
bracing for her reaction.

A look of disbelief crossed her expressive
face. “No way.”

He smiled.

“
I
love
that house. I’ve always wondered
what it’s like inside.”

“
You can see it whenever
you want to.” He ran a finger along her cheek and drew her into
another kiss.

“
I’m off tomorrow,” she
said. “We can go to the beach or something if you want.”

“
I want to. I really want
to.”

He walked her home that night and every
night all week. They went to the beach and to Haven Hill, grabbed
meals at odd hours between her shifts and hung out with some of her
friends at other parties. And they talked about everything. He’d
never told anyone how much his father’s rejection had hurt him, but
one night while he held her on the sofa in her tiny apartment, he
told her about it. Of course, she handed out some major abuse when
he mentioned the estate where he’d grown up in Greenwich.

He heard about her happy middle-class
upbringing with a younger brother and sister in Hartford. She
shared with him the agony of losing her beloved father to cancer
during her senior year of college. They talked late into one night
about what they wanted out of life and who their friends were. And
on the last night before he went back to Boston, Clare called in
sick to work, and they took a picnic out to the bluffs to watch the
sunset.

The family’s longtime Block Island chef
provided caviar, lobster salad, fresh-baked croissants, white wine,
and chocolate-covered strawberries for dessert.

“
I think you’re trying to
impress me,” Clare said as they polished off the picnic. She gave
him the impish look he’d grown to love during the week they’d spent
together.

He smiled and took another sip of his wine.
“Is it working?”

“
I haven’t decided yet. You
know, I love that smile of yours. You could’ve skipped the lobster
if you were going to look at me like that.”

He took her wineglass, and set it down next
to his in the sand. Pulling her to him, he rained kisses over her
face and down her neck, whispering, “Let me know when you’re
impressed, okay?”

She giggled. “Not quite there yet.”

They rolled in the sand, kissing again, more
seriously this time. After a few intense minutes, he pulled away,
sat up, ran his hands through his hair, and took a deep breath.

“
Jack? What is it?” She put
an arm around him. “Did I do something wrong?”

“
No, honey.” He realized he
had upset her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that. It’s just I
feel so much for you so soon. It’s caught me off guard.”

“
I feel the same things,”
she said with a wide-eyed expression. “I can’t imagine you leaving
here tomorrow and having to figure out what to do with myself
without you. How crazy is that? I just met you a week
ago.”