Then I had another thought. What if she was actually just playing a game? It was possible. What if she was just checked into a hotel, like the Sanctuary on Kiawah? She’d get massages and do her nails and then she’d come home. Right? I mean, where was her car?
Before I had a chance to check her bathroom cabinet to see if her toothbrush was there, the phone rang and I picked it up. It was my dad.
“Hey,” he said. “What are you doing for supper?”
“Eating whatever I can find in the fridge. Why?”
“I thought you might join us tonight. I’ve got some pork chops and Clarabeth is baking some kind of potato thing. God, she loves potatoes.”
“Is Eliza there?”
“No.”
“Well, I just got home from fixing some things in the condo at Wild Dunes and her car is gone. I just thought she might be there. That’s all.”
“Son, I was gonna tell you when you got here, but I may as well tell you now. She’s gone to Greece. I drove her to the airport myself. And I’ve got her car.”
I was stunned. Completely stunned. Her note was true.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
I hung up the phone and looked around. Suddenly, my heart sank and the house felt dead. What the hell, Eliza? What the hell?
I drove to my dad and Clarabeth’s like a madman, parking my car in the side yard, right next to Eliza’s. I ran up the steps and into the house. Dad was in the kitchen seasoning the chops and Clarabeth had just pulled a potato casserole from the oven.
“Hello, son,” Dad said. “Feel like a martini?”
“I could probably use four, but I’d hate myself tomorrow. Hey, Clarabeth.”
I gave her a peck on the cheek.
“Hey, Adam,” she said, in a voice I imagined doctors used on the criminally insane. “It’s so nice that you could join us tonight. I was just saying to Ted that it was way beyond time that you came for dinner. It’s so nice for him to share a meal with his son now and then. It means so much to him, and I know it does to you too.”
When she stopped talking to take a breath, I jumped in. “Do y’all have any wine open?”
“There’s a pinot grigio in the fridge. It hasn’t been open too long,” Dad said. “And I opened a Cab for dinner. It’s on the dining room table. Help yourself.”
“White sounds good,” I said. I went to the cabinet and took out a wineglass.
My dad reached into the refrigerator and handed me the bottle. I poured myself a half glass and sat down at the table.
“I’m going out back to the grill. You want to come with me? Maybe I can help you get this situation all sorted out. Here, carry this for me.”
He handed me a tray loaded with a platter, tongs, a plastic tub of seasoning salt, a pepper grinder, and a roll of aluminum foil. I followed him outside to the patio. Clarabeth stayed inside.
“I’ll make a salad,” she said. “Y’all go talk! You know, do your thing. I’ll just be here washing and drying lettuce. I don’t care if they say it’s triple washed. Who knows if that’s really true? I’ve heard some of these California farms use waste water to irrigate. Have you ever in your whole life . . .”
Jeez, does she talk on and on or what? I thought. Poor Dad. He has to live with that wall of noise all the time.
He put the pan of meat down on the counter next to the grill and said, “I’m used to it. Just goes to show that you can get used to anything.”
“I didn’t say a word,” I said.
“You flinched. I know your flinches. Now tell me what went on.”
“How much did Eliza tell you?”
“She told us a story about how some long-lost relative contacted her and invited her to come to Corfu, so she was on her way. Then Cookie, who was here, and you know how she is, started digging. Eliza got upset and began to cry and told us what happened last night and this morning.”
“I hate Cookie,” I said.
“She can be difficult,” he said. “You like your meat medium rare, isn’t that right?”
“Yeah, that’s fine. So what else did Cookie say?”
“Well, this may sound crazy, but I think she was trying to say you were innocent if you said so but that she didn’t trust her daughter at all. And speaking as a parent, I could’ve lived out my days not knowing you had sex with Eve years ago.”
“What? Cookie told Eliza about that? Is that woman out of her mind?”
“She might be. It didn’t help your case, that’s for sure.”
“Dad, here’s the thing. When I was eighteen years old I was in love with Eve. She was my first serious girlfriend. And she was amazing. I wanted to marry her. Cookie, ever the social-climbing bitch from hell, had other plans for Eve’s future. Eve went off to school in North Carolina, met Carl the doctor, got pregnant, and married him. I never saw her again until that summer we met them at Wild Dunes. That’s the truth.”
“I believe you. Why wouldn’t I?”
“And we’ve all become really great friends. All these years we’ve been vacationing with them? I could’ve had sex with Eve any time I wanted. Last night, same story. I didn’t. I happen to love my wife, although right now I’m plenty mad with her.”
“I believe you. But all of this looks bad, you know. Put yourself in Carl’s shoes. Or Eliza’s shoes.”
“Yes, but Eve and I swore to them that nothing happened. They ought to believe us.”
“Even if they do? It still looks very, very bad.”
“I’ll give you that much.”
“Listen, Adam, everyone knows you and Eve have some powerful feelings for each other. It’s as plain as the nose on your face.”
“But I have maintained a proper distance from her all these years.”
“Okay. That’s the funny thing about love. It never dies. And the fact that you didn’t get off the sofa and go home speaks volumes to Carl and Eliza. Eliza feels betrayed. If the shoe was on the other foot, I think you’d feel the same way.”
“So, what do you think I ought to do?” I looked at the grill. “I think those chops are done, Dad.”
He stuck the long fork into the meat, grunted, and dropped the meat on the platter.
“I think you ought to call her and tell her you love her and you’re sorry and that nothing like that will ever happen again.”
“I’ve told her that. But you know what? Part of me is very pissed off. I don’t like being punished for something I didn’t do. She wants to go to Greece so badly? I say, have a nice trip.”
“Slow down, Adam. She’s the one who’s hurt, and your self-righteous indignation won’t rebuild her trust. You’ve got fences to mend. Don’t get on a soapbox.”
I just looked at him.
“Only love and forgiveness will fix this. Now let’s go have supper.”
I started piling up the foil and utensils on the tray to take back inside. I hoped that he sensed that I was in no hurry to sit around a table and discuss my shortcomings with Clarabeth over a potato casserole.