TIME PASSED IN A BLUR.
Fliss found more clients, walked more dogs, built up the business. In this case the community grapevine worked to her advantage. Word-of-mouth meant she was as busy as she wanted to be, but she still found time to be with Seth.
They drove to Montauk and watched the surfers at Ditch Plains, and she found it hard to remember that she was only a few hours from the city. At least part of every day she went without shoes, felt the sand between her toes and breathed in the smell of the ocean.
They ate at the marina restaurant, where daily seafood specials were the order of the day, and sometimes they frequented the airy waterfront bar that served cocktails.
They took the ferry to Shelter Island and explored tidal creeks, woodlands and marshes. They rented kayaks and saw diamondback terrapins and fiddler crabs, blue herons and egrets. Later, with muscles aching, they found a beach restaurant and ate clam chowder and blackened fish tacos while they watched the sunset. Here, far away from the celebrity magnet of South Fork, there was an unmanicured wildness that she loved.
But her favorite times were the hours they spent sitting on the deck of Seth’s house, watching the sun dip down over the water.
By the Fourth of July she had completely adjusted to the pace of life.
The day dawned sunny, and Fliss pulled on shorts and a T-shirt and found her grandmother in the kitchen measuring pecans into a bowl. The smell of baking came from the oven and a mound of apples sat in the middle of the table waiting to be peeled.
“The bruising is fading.” Fliss kissed her grandmother on the cheek. “How are you feeling?”
“Less stiff. I might live to annoy you for a few more years.”
“I’m counting on it. And so are your friends. You still have several seasons of Sex in the City to get through. Wouldn’t want to miss that.” She poured herself coffee and suppressed a yawn.
Her grandmother glanced at her. “Someone is in a good mood. Do you want to tell me about it?”
Fliss curved her hands around the mug. “Definitely not. Your heart couldn’t take it.”
“My heart’s as strong as yours.” Her grandmother measured flour into a large bowl. “It’s good to see you smile.”
“Why wouldn’t I smile? The sun is shining, I have eight clients in the Hamptons and two more calls to deal with. I like spending time with you, and it turns out I’m not such a bad cook. Life is good.”
“So you’re not planning on going back to Manhattan anytime soon?” Her grandmother made a well in the center of the flour. “I expected you to stay a week.”
“Well, it hasn’t been that long.” Fliss made a calculation in her head and felt a stab of shock as she realized just how long. How had that happened? One sunny day had flowed into another until the whole summer seemed a blur of sunrises and sunsets. “I enjoy living with you. You’re good company.”
Her grandmother studied her over the rim of her glasses. “Are you trying to convince me you’re here because of me? Because entertaining though the Poker Princesses are, I have a feeling the reason for your continued presence might be a certain young sexy male who is good with animals.”
Not just animals. “He’s part of the reason. And you were the one who pushed me toward him, so you can’t judge.”
“Do I look as if I’m judging? I’m pleased for you. Now stop talking and get peeling. There’s a knife on the table. Peel the apples, then slice them. And I want them thin. No shortcuts.”
“What time are the Poker Princesses arriving?” Fliss stole a pecan from the bowl on the counter. “I need to prepare myself for the inquisition.”
“They’ll be here at midday. And if you stop picking at the food there might be something left for them to eat.”
“You’re a hard taskmaster. I like cooking with you.” And no one was more surprised about that than she was. It wasn’t so much the cooking, she thought, as the shared activity. “Harriet’s going to be surprised when I make her pancakes. At home, she’s the one who does the cooking. Daniel and I do the eating.”
“She’s a real homemaker, your sister. Now that Daniel is with Molly, there’s only Harriet left alone. I’d like to see her with someone special. Is she dating?”
“Wait a minute. What do you mean, the only one left alone? What about me?”
“We both know it’s only ever been Seth for you.” Her grandmother picked up the recipe to check something, and Fliss stared at her, heart pounding.
“Do we? I never said that. We haven’t talked about a future or anything. We’re seeing each other, spending time together, that’s all.”
Her grandmother put the spoon down. “Does he know that?”
“I don’t know. It feels scary,” she confessed. “He was hurt because of me. And I hurt, too. I’m terrified we’ll end up hurting each other again. I couldn’t put him through that. And I couldn’t put myself through that. It feels like a huge risk.”
“Wonderful things almost always require that you take a risk. And love is a wonderful thing. It’s what adds richness to our lives. Not everyone is lucky enough to find it, or sometimes they find it but they can’t do anything about it. I’d say if it comes your way then you should grab it with both hands. I suspect Harriet would do pretty much anything to have what you have.”
A serious case of the jitters? Sick tension?
She’d never thought love was as simple as Harriet seemed to think it was. Harriet thought all you needed were the feelings and the rest was easy. To Fliss, all of it was hard. The feelings, and what those feelings meant.
But even she had to admit that what she had with Seth was special.
“I’m thinking of persuading her to try online dating. Harriet, I mean. She’s not keen.”
Her grandmother winced. “I don’t blame her. I can’t imagine going on a date with someone I’d never met face-to-face.”
“It’s the way things are done now. It’s not ideal, but it’s hard meeting someone when everyone is busy.”
“She doesn’t still stammer with strangers?”
“Not for years. She’s more confident. In her comfort zone.”
Her grandmother put the sugar and flour back in the cupboard. “And what happens when she isn’t? How does she cope?”
Fliss frowned. “That doesn’t happen. I do the accounts and all the new business contacts, anything she finds stressful. She handles the animals and all the dog walkers. We each do the things we’re good at.”
“If you only ever do the parts you’re good at, how will you ever grow and improve? Take your cooking skills as an example. Your pancakes are perfect,” her grandmother said, “which proves that with patience and practice we can become good at things.”
“You’re suggesting I tell Harriet to do the accounts and call a hundred strangers? She’d freak.”
“I’m suggesting we are always capable of more than we think.”
Fliss had a feeling her grandmother wasn’t talking only about Harriet.
“That may be true. I haven’t burned anything in a week, have you noticed?”
“I’ve noticed a lot of things. Like the fact you’ve never stopped protecting your sister.” Her grandmother moved the bowl out of reach before Fliss could help herself to more. “Also that you’re busy and your paperwork is all over my kitchen table. You might like to move it before we cover it in apple peelings.”
Fliss tidied the papers and moved them from the table to the countertop. “Of course I protect her. I’m her sister.”
Her grandmother said nothing. Instead she peered at her recipe. “I need six eggs. Could you break them into a bowl for me?”
“Sure.” Fliss found the eggs while her grandmother dropped a stick of butter into the bowl. “That’s what sisters are supposed to do, isn’t it?”
“You’re saying she protects you, too?”
“No. I’m the oldest.” Fliss broke eggs into a bowl and studied the result with satisfaction. “See? A month ago I would have spent hours picking out shell. Now, no shell. Are you proud of me?”
“You know I’m proud of you. Always have been.”
“I didn’t know that until you said it the other day.”
“I should have told you sooner. I remember sitting here biting my tongue while your father said you were useless, and that you’d never amount to anything.”
Fliss disposed of the eggshells. “I remember that, too. I remember Mom saying he should be proud of me, and him saying that if I gave him something to be proud of then he’d be proud.”
“And you’ve been trying to make him proud ever since. Setting up the business. Growing it. Some of that was for yourself, and some for your sister, but I’m sure a large part of the motivation came from a drive to prove your father wrong.”
She thought about her visit to the hospital. “He doesn’t even know. Certainly doesn’t care.”
“I’m not talking about proving it to your father. I’m talking about proving it to yourself. You drop enough acid into the pool, eventually you’re going to poison the water.”
Fliss stared at her, the blood thrumming in her ears. “What do you mean?”
“Those things your father used to say to you—some of them stayed, didn’t they? Like an infection that wouldn’t heal. Those words sank in, and you’ve been trying to prove him wrong ever since. You might want to think about that. And you might want to stop listening to that voice in your head that tells you you’re not good enough, that Seth deserves better because he couldn’t get better than you, that’s a fact. Start looking at the person you are, not the person your father made you think you might be.”
Fliss swallowed.
Was her grandmother right? Was that how she looked at herself?
For years she’d told herself that every choice she made, every decision and path she followed, had been driven by a desire to convince her father he was wrong about her.
The truth was, she’d been trying to convince herself.
* * *
SETH HAD A quieter day than he’d expected. He could have stayed at home and answered calls from there, but he opted to catch up with paperwork in the clinic. He had one urgent call to deal with a cat who had been hit by the wheel of a bicycle, and another to deal with a dog who had swallowed a child’s button. Other than that, it was remarkably calm.
Tanya, his partner, arrived early. “You’re spending too long in this place.”
“You’re here, too.”
“That’s different. My kids are grown.” She removed the stethoscope from his neck. “Go, Dr. Carlyle. Party, party, party.”
“If you need me—”
“I’ll call. Relax, Dr. Carlyle. Have fun.”
Seth drove home, showered and changed, and then picked Fliss up from her grandmother’s house.
She slid into the passenger seat, and her short skirt slid up her thighs, revealing long legs brushed gold by long summer days. She was a thousand times more relaxed than the person he’d met on the road that first day.
They drove to Chase and Matilda’s and walked together across the grass toward the back of the house that overlooked the dunes.
Seth caught a glimpse of the ocean, an empty stretch of golden sand, heard the crash of the waves and the sound of laughter and decided he was lucky.
A job he loved, good friends and a life by the water. What more could a man want?
Fliss, he thought. That was what he wanted.
Chase, for all his wealth and success, was the same. It was one of the reasons they’d been friends for so long.
He strolled across the grass watching as Fliss took baby Rose from a tired-looking Matilda.
“There was a time when disturbed nights used to mean something more exciting.” Chase handed him a beer. “My mother tells me we should leave her to cry, but I’ve never been good at hearing a woman cry. A few more broken nights and I’ll be the one crying.”
Seth grinned. “A couple of weeks old and she’s already wrapped you around her little finger.”
“Sounds about right.” Chase gestured. “I assumed you’d prefer the beer over the frozen margarita.”
“You presumed correctly.”
“Chase!” Matilda called to him across the gardens, and Chase removed Seth’s empty beer bottle from his hand.
“I’m needed. Eva is doing all the salads and desserts, but I’m in charge of the grill.” He strode across to Matilda, and Seth noticed Fliss standing on the deck, a glass in her hand. She was laughing at something Matilda had said. Looking at her, it was hard to believe she was a city person. She certainly didn’t seem to miss it.
Over the past few weeks the one thing they hadn’t talked about were her plans for returning to Manhattan.
He hoped that her love of the ocean would persuade her to stay. Even better, her love for him.
He was surprised to see that she was still wearing her shoes, although they weren’t shoes exactly. Jeweled flipflops that showed off her lightly tanned skin and polished nails. He was willing to bet money that as soon as the guests relaxed a little more those flip-flops would be lying abandoned and she’d be standing in bare feet.
“Seth!” She waved and beckoned him over. “Have you met Eva? She runs Urban Genie, a concierge company in Manhattan with Paige and Frankie. They’re over there, by the gazebo. Half our clients have been referred by them.”
Seth exchanged words with Eva, while thinking only of Fliss.
He wanted to ask what her plans were. Whether she’d thought about going back.
Later, when they’d all gorged on grilled shrimp, steaks and corn dripping with melted butter, Matilda disappeared to try to get Rose to sleep.
The sun was already dipping down behind the horizon, fiery red, and the evening had a mellow vibe.
Seth helped Chase clean up and then snagged two bottles of beer and went to find Fliss.
There was no sign of her, but he saw her flip-flops abandoned by the edge of the dunes and followed the footprints to the beach. Small footprints. Delicate. His own footprint would have covered it twice.
Small, yes. And delicate. But also fierce. And he was glad about that. It was hard to handle what life threw without at least a touch of fierce in the armory.
He saw her sitting on the sand, just far enough away from the ocean to keep those pretty toes dry.
Fireworks exploded in the distance, lighting up the night sky.
He sat down next to her, looped his arm around her shoulders and they watched them together.
As the last shower of stars cascaded down to the water, he pulled her in and took her mouth.
“What was that?” She sounded breathless.
“It’s Fourth of July. I’m allowed to kiss you on Fourth of July.”
“Trying to create a different type of fireworks?”
“Maybe.”
“Did you call your family?”
“Yes. I spoke to my mother. They seem to be enjoying Vermont.”
“It’s a pity you were working and couldn’t join them. Bad luck that you had to work.”
He sat for a moment, watching as the last of the fireworks died, leaving a velvet-black sky studded with stars. “It wasn’t bad luck. I didn’t have to work, I asked to.”
She turned her head. “You didn’t want to have a family gathering?”
“I’ve promised myself I will spend Thanksgiving with them, but right now—no, I didn’t want to have a gathering on Fourth of July without my father there. And I didn’t want to hurt their feelings by telling them that, so I arranged to work. That probably makes me selfish.”
“I think it makes you human.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “And both your sisters are there, so it’s not as if your mom is alone. You don’t have to feel guilty for thinking about your own needs, or coping with it the way that feels right to you.”
She never judged. He’d never felt he had to live up to some perfect, unreal image she had of him.
“The next job is to clear the house of Dad’s personal items. The furniture can stay until it’s sold but all the other things—books, papers, sailing things—sorting through those won’t be fun.”
“We’ll do it together.”
Together.
He wanted to ask how long she was planning to stay.
Whether they had a future.
He waited, silent, hoping, but she said nothing. Just stared ahead, deep in thought.
“I love it here.”
“Me, too.”
What exactly did she love? Was it the beach? Or him? Him and the beach?
“Could you live here?”
She stilled. “Maybe.”
If he told her how he felt would she run or would she tell him she felt the same way?
He wasn’t willing to take the chance that it might be the former.
He’d waited so long to hear her say the words he wanted her to say, he decided he could wait a little longer.