twenty-eight
Early in the morning, Lisa walked through her quiet house, a mug of coffee in her hands. Mack and his crew had done a great job of repairing the living room and dining room ceilings and renovating her bathroom. So they were finished here, and working hard on a summer house that needed to be done before the family arrived for Labor Day.
Everyone had been so busy the past few days. The autopsy had shown that the great white shark had had so much plastic in its stomach it couldn’t digest food. Ryder went to an environmental meeting in Washington, and Beth and Juliet worked hard publicizing the shark’s death. Theo came home at nine o’clock after working long hard hours for Mack’s crew, and Juliet wandered into the house at all hours, always on her phone, talking to her Boston office.
Lisa liked having the kids home, and both Juliet and Theo were doing their share of the chores, laundry, grocery shopping, dishes, going to the dump. Lisa had no complaints there, but she did feel a low-grade irritation that she couldn’t invite Mack to her house for dinner because…Why? It was no secret that she was dating Mack. But it was also no secret that Theo cared about Beth, and Lisa didn’t want to get in his way. She liked Beth, and she knew that Theo had crushed on her in high school, but the question remained: Could Lisa see Mack if her son was seeing his daughter? Or was she just being silly? After all, nothing had really happened between her and Mack yet.
But she missed him. It had been only a few evenings that she hadn’t seen him, and their phone conversations had been short because they were both tired.
Still, they had to eat. And this was her house.
She pulled her phone from the pocket of her robe and called Mack. When he answered, she said, “Could you come to dinner tonight? I’ll leave the store with Gretchen and get home early to make something delicious.”
“That would be amazing, Lisa.”
“Would seven work for you?”
“Absolutely.”
They talked some more, about the ordinary events of the day, and she found herself leaning against a door, gazing out at her garden, which suddenly was full of flowers.
The hydrangea was blooming in that exquisite shade of turquoise blue. Her dahlias brightened the garden with every color, and daisies, daylilies, foxglove, and roses mixed together in complementary hues. Her everlasting flowers—Queen Anne’s lace, strawflower, blue globe thistle, baby’s breath—were flourishing, almost taking over her garden. The borders of her lawn looked wilder now, more colorful, and oddly pleased with themselves.
And so was Lisa, she realized.
Because Mack was in her life.
Standing in the open door, gazing at her flowers, Lisa felt a shiver of elation run through her. She hugged herself. This was her garden. This was her house. Mack was the man she loved. Her children were grown and healthy, and as always, they came bounding into the quiet shelter of her life, bringing color and noise and decisions and emotions. Her children were like gorgeous creatures escaped from a zoo, rampaging through the house, eating her food, complicating every hour of her day, and she wanted to be done with that. She loved them, but she loved Mack, too, not more, but in a different, intimate, and delicious way. And in a way she deserved. And would choose.
Lisa called Betsy and asked her to open the store. Lisa would come in later. In her knee-length night T-shirt and an apron, she moved around the kitchen, planning something Mack would like that was not a grilled steak. She settled on lasagna with lots of hamburger and cheese. She put it together and slipped it into the fridge to be baked that evening. She would pick up a bottle of red wine on her way home.
* * *
—
Dark clouds rolled over the sky as Lisa walked home that evening. She hadn’t had a chance to check her weather app because the store had been so busy, but she ditched her plan to eat on the sunporch. They couldn’t eat in the dining room. The ceiling still smelled slightly of paint, and they hadn’t moved the furniture back in place. They would eat in the kitchen. That would feel cozy.
At home, Lisa changed into a summer dress and sandals. Pretty, but casual. She had an hour before Mack would arrive. She put her favorite cloth over the kitchen table, set out her daily china and silverware, put the lasagna in to bake. She worked at the sink washing lettuce, her thoughts all over the place. She was certain that Theo would bound in the door like an overgrown puppy, excited that she’d made lasagna, but she was equally certain she’d tell him it was for her and a guest. He could go eat pizza and drink with his friends at a bar. Juliet wouldn’t want to eat with them. When Lisa told her daughter she was having Mack over for dinner, Juliet would make some sarcastic remark and leave the house. Which was fine. This was Lisa’s house. It was her life.
As it turned out, Juliet texted Lisa that she was going to be out for the evening. Theo didn’t bother to text, but neither did he barge in after work. It was kind of a miracle.
Mack arrived a little after seven. Clearly he had showered and cleaned up.
“Wow, something smells delicious,” he said when he followed her into the kitchen.
“That’s lasagna,” Lisa said, walking to the stove.
Mack came up behind her, put his hands on her waist, and pulled her against him. “That’s you,” he murmured into her hair.
A rush of desire swept through her. She leaned against him, closing her eyes, relishing the feel of his body against hers.
Mack kissed the top of her head and stepped back. “Where are Juliet and Theo?”
“I’m not sure. I think they’re both out for the evening.”
Lisa bent to take out the lasagna to let it set before cutting. She was aware of Mack behind her as she bent over, and she was glad she’d worn a dress with a full skirt. Would she ever stop worrying about the size of her bottom? Did any woman ever stop worrying about that?
She tossed a salad with wine vinegar and oil as Mack poured the wine.
“Good day?” she asked.
Mack talked about the summer house they were building and how glad he was that Theo had joined his crew. As they ate dinner, the conversation turned to the shark and all the concern its presence and its death caused.
“Beth talks about Ocean Matters all the time,” Mack told Lisa. “Or she did, before she moved out to Ryder’s place.”
Lisa almost choked on her salad. “Beth is living with Ryder?”
“No, she’s living in a garage on his property.” Mack put down his fork. “Beth is…concerned about you and me.”
“She doesn’t like me,” Lisa said.
“No. She doesn’t like me with you. And it’s not about our age difference. Beth is—” Mack cleared his throat. “Beth likes Theo a lot. She thinks she can’t be with him if I’m with you.”