Same Beach, Next Year

Dad and Clarabeth had been married for only four years, but I’d say all their years together had been very happy ones. I knew he was going to miss her something awful. She did everything for him. While Clarabeth was much older than Dad, it had never really seemed so until just recently. I could see signs of her slowing down, and she’d had slight mobility issues for the past ten years or so. We just chalked it up to osteoarthritis. If you lived long enough, something would most likely hurt.

I heard a car door close. Eliza. I got up, went to the front door, and opened it. There she was, walking toward me. She seemed different. Maybe there was more purpose in her stride or maybe she had on a new coat. I couldn’t remember ever seeing the one she was wearing.

“Hey, there!” I said, with a friendly smile on my face.

“Hi, Adam,” she said, flatly.

She took off her sunglasses and looked at me straight in the eyes in such a way that I knew I was still in very deep shit.

“Are you okay?” I said.

“I’m perfectly fine, Adam. How’s Dad?”

“He’s broken up but he’s coping pretty well.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s in the den,” I said and stepped aside for her to cross the threshold.

She moved past me without touching me and I thought, Wait a minute! Not even a hug? Apparently not. I followed her inside.

“Hey, Dad!” she said. “I’m so sorry about Clarabeth.”

Dad got out of his recliner and held out his arms to her. They embraced each other and he kissed her cheek.

He said, “She was a great lady and I loved her. Thank you. I’m glad you came, Eliza.”

“I wouldn’t let you go through this without me at your side,” she said.

I smartly said, “Because you’re a great lady too.” She turned around and looked at me as though I had on one of those gag arrow headband things that appears to be going in one ear and out the other. “Can I get you something to drink? That’s a long flight, I guess, huh? Dad? You want something?”

“No, son, but thank you.”

“Eliza?”

“I’ll get something for myself in a few minutes,” she said, obviously not wanting to accept any hospitality from me.

I left the room and headed for the kitchen, thinking, So, is this how it’s going to be? Well, I can spread the frost too. I could hear Clarabeth in my mind saying, what’s good for the goose is good for the gander. God, she was a funny woman. A motormouth, yes, but a nice one. I’d miss her too. I was half wishing her spirit would haunt the house and scare Cookie away.

Cookie was there in the butler’s pantry taking plates from a cabinet and flatware from a drawer.

“Eliza’s here,” I said. “Straight from the airport.”

“Oh! Wonderful! How was her trip?”

“Long, I imagine.”

“Is everything between you two all right?”

Emboldened by the somber occasion that brought us together, I said, “Thanks to you? No.”

She gasped and said, “What possible thing could I have done to add to your unhappiness? I merely told Eliza the truth. What I can’t believe is that the four of you have been gallivanting together for all these years and you kept your history with Eve a secret! You and Eve never told your spouses! Lying is disgraceful.” She then busied herself opening and closing cabinets, looking for something that wasn’t where she thought it should be. “This kitchen was organized by a crazy person.”

I reached in the refrigerator, took out a beer, and popped the top. I took a long drink and stared at her, giving her the most murderous expression I could muster.

“Some things are better left unsaid, Cookie. And you know what? It might be nice if we buried Clarabeth before you redecorate her house.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mr. Stanley. Your father is a dear friend to me and nothing more.”

“Right,” I said.

“I’ll have you know I have a date this weekend with a very nice man I met on social media.”

“Is that so? Watch out. He might be an ax murderer.”

“He happens to be a retired investment banker from New York City, for your information.”

“Well, if he wants a referral, tell him not to call me. I’m going back to talk to my wife.”

“You want my advice?”

“Not especially.”

“Well, here it is anyway. Make up with her. She’s the best thing that ever happened to you.”

It was the first useful thing I’d heard come from Cookie’s mouth since this whole debacle started. I liked her better when she was a drunk. So, she had a date, did she? God help him.

I found Eliza right where I’d left her, in the den with Dad.

“Eliza? Can I peel you away from Dad for a moment? I want to talk to you.”

I saw her inhale and accept the inevitable. She stood up and started walking in my direction. She had to talk to me.

“Let’s go in the living room,” she said.

“Okay,” I said. “The boys are coming in tonight.”

I sat on the huge floral-print sofa and she sat on the opposite end.

“I know. They sent me an e-mail,” she said and looked around at the room. “This room is very aqua.”

“And pink. Well, you know Clarabeth.”

“And long on fringe. Yeah, well, she was a glamour-puss.”

The walls were pale green, like Granny Smith apples, and the raised panels were painted gold. It was too Marie Antoinette for my taste.

“Yeah. She was that. So, Eliza? Where are we?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are things okay between us?” May as well get right to the point, I thought.

“I think you know that they aren’t.”

“So what are you telling me? That you live in Greece now? That you want a divorce?” I was trying to get the truth without letting her know how upset I was.

“I’m telling you nothing of the kind, Adam. But here’s what I am telling you. I have family there that I haven’t seen since I was a child. Lovely, educated, successful family with children and lives that I’ve known nothing about all these years. I feel like the last twenty-something years flew by so fast and I was so busy working for you and raising our boys that I never, ever saw a window of time that I could use to see what the rest of my family was like. And that’s crazy.”

“But you haven’t been miserable with me and Luke and Max, have you?”

“Let’s not put my relationship with the boys on the same table as my relationship with you. I would’ve given my heart and my time to my sons with or without you. But we raised them together, and I think we did a pretty good job.”

“Thanks for giving me some credit.”

“No, you deserve a lot of credit for how well they turned out. And then there’s my relationship with you.”

“Which is . . . ?”

“In trouble.”

“I love you, Eliza. I only love you. I don’t love Eve. I swear I don’t.”

“I used to believe anything you told me and I have overlooked so much, wanting to keep things on an even keel. But since Carl and I found you and Eve together, why would I think you’re telling me the truth? How am I supposed to trust you? I don’t know what to believe. I don’t know, Adam. You need to know that when this is over, I’m going back to Corfu.”

“What? Why? You can’t just go off when the mood strikes, Eliza!”

“Oh, yes, I can.”

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