The Guest Cottage (9 page)

At these words, Leo’s rage gradually subsided. His sobs diminished to whimpers. Trevor gathered his son in his arms and sat on the floor, hugging the boy against him, rocking him.

“Want Tubee.” Leo cried, his bony body shuddering with exhaustion.

“Tubee went on a quick trip with our friends. He’ll be back tomorrow.”

Sophie tiptoed into the room, set the two glasses of ice water on the floor within reach of Trevor’s hand, and quietly left.

Trevor took a sip of the cold water and was surprised at how it revived him—he could almost feel the clear energy spread through his system, calming him. Holding Leo’s glass, he coaxed his son to take a sip, and then another. The hot flush of Leo’s skin slowly faded. The boy’s breathing slowed. He relaxed against Trevor.

Trevor rocked Leo in his arms, humming softly until the child’s trembling eased and his eyes closed. He laid Leo in his bed. He removed his son’s sandals and smoothed his hair, pulled a sheet over him, then simply stood watching for a while. Leo folded into a fetal position and sank into a deep sleep.

Downstairs, Lacey was in the family room watching television. Sophie was sitting on the back patio with a book in her lap, her head resting against the pillow of the lounge chair.

Trevor went outside to sit on the chair next to her. “Well, that was awful.”

“I’ve seen worse when a child didn’t get the candy he wanted in a grocery store,” said Sophie comfortingly. “But, yes, it was awful, for you and for Leo. And yet, possibly not the worst thing that could happen. I was telling Lacey how sometimes it helps to have a good tantrum. Often the immediate problem isn’t the real cause.”

“Catharsis. Yeah, I know.” Trevor stretched out on his lounge chair and closed his eyes. “I feel like my heart has been squeezed so hard it’s as limp as a rag.”

“Kids will do that to you,” Sophie said. “I don’t want to interfere, Trevor, but you
have
talked with Leo about death and about losing people, right?”

“Of course I have. And I talk to Leo about his mother every day. You’ve heard me.” Trevor rubbed his forehead, remembering the advice of other parents and the therapists he had visited. “I really don’t want to put Leo on medication.”

“I think you’re right. Although, there have been times in my life when I’ve wished I could share a nice slug of vodka with my kids to ease their pain over a crisis like Leo’s. I’d never do it, of course. I suppose growing up is partly about learning how to handle loss.”

Trevor barked a low laugh. “Some of us never learn how to handle that.” Glancing over at Sophie, he remarked, “You and your kids don’t seem to be freaking out over this separation from your husband.”

Sophie shifted in her chair, turning her body toward Trevor. “Well, the kids don’t know why we’re apart this summer. Plus, we’re used to being without him. He’s always working. He’s never cared much for the whole soccer/ ballet recital/family camping trip kind of thing. He loves his children—” Sophie stopped talking and chewed on a fingernail. After a moment, she continued, “He
does
love his children, but now that I think about it, he has never gone through with either one of them what you just went through with Leo. I’m afraid Zack would find it all far too unpleasant. Not to mention unprofitable.”

“Not to be rude, but he sounds like a jackass.”

“I think he is. Believe me, I’ve given our situation a lot of thought in the past few weeks. Sometimes I wonder what we ever saw in each other that made us wild enough about each other to marry. Even when I look at the early photographs, I can’t recall a feeling of ecstasy. He was challenging and exciting. And I looked good back then.”

“You look good right now,” Trevor murmured, but Sophie didn’t seem to hear.

“Sometimes I think nature makes us marry the closest—in
proximity—person
to us simply to propagate the species.”

“It was certainly that way for me with Tallulah,” Trevor admitted. “What I mean, I guess, is for me it was all about sex. For her, too. Tallulah had healthy appetites—what am I saying? She certainly had some unhealthy appetites, too. But I think she got into the drug thing quite recently. I’m sure she did, in fact. I never noticed any signs when she came home. No glazed eyes, no mania, just her normal narcissistic self. I have that to be grateful for, that Leo never saw his mother drunk or high or unable to function.”

“That is good. Leo’s memories of his mother will all be happy ones.”

“I hope you’re right,” said Trevor. “When she was there, she cuddled and kissed him and sometimes read him stories. She acted for him, too. She fascinated him; his face glowed when he watched her. He would sit on the sofa while she acted out a scene in her current play and even though he couldn’t understand all the words, he was mesmerized. She must have seemed magical to him. I was the boring old disciplinarian who forced him to brush his teeth and take baths and eat his vegetables.”

“Someday, when he’s older, much older, Leo will appreciate you. Right now, of course, he can’t understand the kind of good luck he has in having you as his father. I would pay money to have Zack spend a fraction of his time and charm on the children that you do. He does support us financially, and he does do that well. I have to admit that. We’ve never lacked for anything. He’s never been mean to the children and he’s always been there at night, which I’m sure gives the children a feeling of security.” Sophie chewed her fingernail again, thinking. “Jonah used to adore his father, but now he doesn’t seem to. Both kids know something’s going on. I’m not sure what to do.” Sophie laughed. “What am I saying? Zack wants a divorce. I’ve got to suck it up.”

Trevor’s brain had stuck on her words about the good luck Leo had in having him as his father. That meant Sophie liked him. Maybe even admired him. Much of the lowering weight of gloom and despair from Leo’s tantrum lifted from his heart. “Really,” Trevor joked, “we are a pathetic pair.”

“For now, we are,” Sophie agreed, taking his comment seriously. “But it’s the beginning of the summer. I have a feeling things will change.” She stood up and stretched. “The humidity is getting to me. I think I’ll take a nap.”

For the rest of the afternoon, Trevor worked on his laptop. He checked on Leo regularly, and found the boy still sleeping. In the evening, Leo refused to come downstairs to eat, so Trevor brought him up a sandwich. Leo took a few bites, then turned to face the wall and closed his eyes. Trevor went to bed early, hoping the express mail would be there when they awoke in the morning.

O
f course the mail didn’t work that way. Leo sat on the front step, watching for the delivery truck all morning. Trevor worked on his laptop in the dining room, keeping an eye on his son through the window. Sophie went to the beach with her children, and Trevor, like a total hopeless case, missed her. He reminded himself of Kyle’s words:

“She’s older, man, and she’s got two kids. One of them is a teenage boy. Plus, she’s not even divorced yet, and for all you know she’ll go back to her husband. She’s nice, and she’s good-looking—oh, I can see the attraction. But you’re still recovering from a major shock, a big, fat life trauma. Don’t be looking for any more complications at this time in your life.”

In the early afternoon, a FedEx truck rolled into the driveway and a man brought Leo a package. Trevor stood next to his son, watching him rip it open.

“Tubee!” Leo squeezed the stuffed giraffe so tightly it would have been suffocated if it had breath. “Dad, Tubee’s back!”

Trevor wondered if there were a way to permanently attach the thing to his son’s body. Handcuffs? Too weird. Trevor would simply have to be more observant.

When the Andersons returned, Sophie prepared a feast, concluding with strawberry shortcake in celebration of Tubee’s return. Afterward, during the long, bright evening, Trevor sat on the patio watching Leo busily working on his Legos and chatting with Connor. He hoped his son wasn’t bothering the older man, who clearly enjoyed his privacy. Rising, he strolled over to join the conversation.

“Hi, guys, what’s up?” Trevor asked.

“Connor’s making a chair for Tubee!” Leo cried with excitement. “Then Tubee can sit out here with me without getting dirt on his bottom.”

“That’s really nice of you, Connor,” Trevor said. “I hope it’s not an imposition.”

“Heck, no, I suggested it,” Connor replied. “I’ve made a lot of miniature furniture for my grandchildren. I enjoy doing it. It’s sort of restful for the mind.”

“Maybe I’d better take it up, then,” Trevor joked.

Connor looked up at Trevor, who was leaning against the outside wall of Connor’s small apartment. “Maybe you should. Your generation does everything so fast I think you’ve forgotten how to enjoy the pleasures of going slow. Not to insult you personally—I don’t mean it that way.”

“I know what you mean,” Trevor said, but silently he thought,
Yeah, but you’re old, you’ve lived your life, you’ve got it all figured out, and I feel like I’m on the spin cycle of the dryer.
He watched in silence for a few moments while Connor carved and Leo arranged his Legos, but the heat and humidity of the day pressed on him. “Hot day,” he remarked.

“Not like in Iowa,” Connor replied. “This is mild compared to Iowa. The apartment has an air conditioner, but it makes the rooms feel like an icebox. I like sitting out here, hanging out with your boy.”

Trevor studied the older man. “I hope all the noise we make doesn’t bother you.”

“Heavens, no. My hearing’s shot. I wear these—” he tapped his ears, indicating small hearing aids—“if I want to hear anything. Without them, I’m deaf as a stone.”

Trevor shifted uncomfortably. “Too bad.”

Connor gave him a sweet smile. “Not really. With them, I’m good. They’re like my glasses, part of the stuff that old age requires.”

“Well, hey, I’m going to make some iced tea. Can I bring you a glass?”

“No, thanks. I’d just have to go pee.”

Leo giggled. “Connor said ‘pee.’ ”

“I’ll be in the house, then. Okay, Leo?”

“ ’Kay,” Leo responded, preoccupied with his building.

Back in the house, Trevor made a big pitcher of iced tea—a mixture of Darjeeling and herbal raspberry that Sophie had showed him how to make. He could hear Sophie moving through the house, gathering up laundry, using the washer and dryer, folding towels. He wished she would come outside and sit with him. Later, he heard laughter. He peeked into the family room. Sophie and her kids were watching a movie starring Adam Sandler and howling with laughter.
Probably inappropriate for a four-year-old,
Trevor thought, trying not to feel hurt that she didn’t ask them to join their group.

The next morning, they all went to the beach. Jonah ran off to find his surf buddies while Lacey sprinted through the sand to greet her new friend. The two girls squealed at their reunion as if it had been years since they’d seen each other, then settled down at the edge of the waves to construct fantastic sand castles. Sophie set up her private beach lair with its striped umbrella to shade her as she reclined in her beach chair, engrossed in a paperback novel. Trevor had brought a thriller along. Up the beach, not far from Sophie, he lay on his beach towel, trying to read while watching Leo construct his own sand fort. Leo didn’t seem to want to interact with any of the other children, which made Trevor deeply sad. But what could he do? Bribe someone to play with his child? Leo seemed happy enough, anyway.

A good-looking guy cut his way through the crowds of beach umbrellas and blankets and stopped, to Trevor’s surprise, next to Sophie. He said a few words, and Sophie smiled up at him. They shook hands and the man sat down on the blanket next to Sophie. Trevor snorted: the man talking to Sophie resembled a hero in one of the shield-wielding, chest-beating
Clash of the Titans
movies. Probably forty, tanned and taut, with an expensive haircut that made his graying dark hair stand up in bristles. Sophie was too far away from Trevor to hear their conversation, but because he was wearing sunglasses he was able to watch her
surreptitiously.
They talked. Sophie laughed. Probably the man was a friend of Sophie’s husband, Trevor decided, and he didn’t like the guy.

Later that afternoon, the house filled with the tantalizing aroma of tomatoes and cheese. In his room with his computer, Trevor imagined a delicious meal and afterward sitting on the patio talking with Sophie. He was sure she would want to discuss Leo’s meltdown over Tubee. Trevor certainly did.

He found Leo in his bedroom constructing his Lego universe, and took him downstairs, expecting to see Sophie in the kitchen and Lacey setting the dining room table.

The downstairs was empty. Leo went under the kitchen table to his Legos. Trevor took another beer from the refrigerator and wandered around aimlessly. It was six o’clock, their ordinary dinnertime, not that he was all anal about it. Dropping down on the living room sofa, he took his cell from his shorts and was checking for messages when he heard female giggling and saw Lacey and Sophie coming down the stairs.

Lacey wore a madras sundress and her toenails were painted the green that matched her sandals. “We’re going out to dinner,” she announced to Trevor.

“We are?” he asked in surprise.

“No, silly, Mom and I are going to dinner at Desi’s house.”

Sophie wore white flip-flops and a simple white cotton sundress with a thin blue belt. She wasn’t what Tallulah would have called “dressed up,” but she still looked drop-dead gorgeous. Her blond hair had gotten becomingly shaggy and streaked by the sun with flecks of silver and gold. Her only lipstick, a pale gloss, emphasized her tan and her large blue eyes.

Trevor stood up. “I didn’t know you were going out to dinner.” He felt betrayed, jealous, and irrationally angry.

Sophie smiled. “Desi’s father invited us when we spoke on the beach today. I made a casserole for you and Leo and Jonah. It’s in the oven, ready anytime. I’ve knocked on Jonah’s door and told him to come have dinner. You all can have fruit or whatever you want for dessert.” She didn’t look at Trevor but searched around the table in the hallway for her purse, her car keys, and her sunglasses.

“When will you be home?” Trevor demanded, mentally smacking his forehead the moment he spoke. He wasn’t her husband, her boyfriend, or her father! He had no right to this information.

“Who knows?” Sophie’s whole attitude was carefree and cheerful. Obviously Trevor was only a gnat at the periphery of her vision. “Come on, Lacey, we don’t want to be late.” Taking her daughter’s hand, she went out the door, turning back to say, “Jonah has my cell phone number if you need me for anything.”

Trevor watched out the window as Sophie and her daughter got into the minivan and drove away.