Family Reunion Nancy Thayer (summer reads .txt) 📖

“What’s that?” Clarissa asked.

Eleanor explained that it was a day camp for children whose parents had to work and couldn’t afford babysitters.

“How divine!” Muffy clapped her hands together. “We must send them a check. Just think, we could make it possible for them all to take a trip to Boston to the science museum.”

“That’s a fabulous idea.” Eleanor smiled and thought Muffy looked quite lovely in all her gold jewelry.

Muffy said, “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

The captain came onto the deck and announced, “We’re almost at Great Point.”

“We’ll stop for a swim before lunch,” Clarissa informed them.

They anchored. The rumbling stopped. Chip was first to dive off the boat, and then one by one, like a rather shapeless chorus line, the men dove into the water. Eleanor didn’t dive, nor did the other women. They went down the ladder and eased themselves into the cold.

After a moment of dog-paddling, Eleanor’s body went, all of its own accord, into swim mode. She remembered as she speared through the surface that as it went deeper, it got almost icy. But she was exhilarated, by the cold and the sheer sensation of swimming. She recalled her different strokes, and for a while caught her breath by treading water and watching her friends pass by her in a blur of color and splashes. She floated, her body cold, the sun hot on her face. It was slightly scary, letting her ancient body, with its weaknesses, surrender to the obliviousness of the ocean, which wouldn’t care—wouldn’t know—if she, a superior creature on this planet, sank or swam. She didn’t have the strength to swim to shore, which was very far away. As a girl, she’d enjoyed the challenge, but now she knew she couldn’t keep it up.

Still, she was the last one to climb the ladder attached to the boat, where the gorgeous young man held out his hand to heave her onto the deck. He immediately gave her a large and fluffy white towel. She could have cried with gratefulness. It wasn’t just that she was too old to expose others to her body in its one-piece skirted (the skirt did no good) bathing suit, it was also that she was so cold. Her teeth chattered. Her skin was riddled with gooseflesh.

“Your lips are blue!” Bonnie called. She patted the cushion on the wicker sofa. “Come sit here and have a drinkie.”

Eleanor wanted a hot shower and a nap. She would have settled for a hot cup of anything, but the glamorous attendant handed her an iced glass of something with a frivolous name and Eleanor sipped it. She discovered immediately that in spite of the ice cubes, the beverage warmed her with its fruity alcoholic content. But a stirring, unpleasant sense of unease was there, fluttering just under her skin. It had been there all day and she’d ignored it because she was having so much fun.

Maybe she needed to see her doctor.

While the swimmers warmed up, the crew came around with broiled oysters, fresh oysters, grilled shrimp, olives, and crisp radishes. Soon they were invited into the handsome teak dining room. They settled at the table, where they were served freshly caught seared sea bass with sinfully crisp French fries and salad. Key lime pie for dessert, with champagne. They sat around the long table and regaled one another with stories of what the island was like decades ago, when everything here was simpler and better. Eleanor rolled her eyes and caught Silas’s grin and knew he was thinking what she was. How could anyone on this yacht complain about the present? There was something magical about being on a small vessel in the vast blue waters, and being there with good friends. She almost forgot about her silly little fear.

At around five, the yacht docked in the harbor. The beautiful boy helped her onto the pier, and everyone said goodbye, all looking as exhausted as she felt. Fifty years ago, they would have gone dancing, but that was fifty years ago.

Once home, she took a long, luxuriously hot shower, pulled on slacks and a warm cashmere crewneck, made herself tea, and settled on the sofa. Her skin was red and tender from the day in the sun and her head was totally empty of thought. She was relaxed and glowing.

The kitchen door slammed. Ari was home, and something smelled. Eleanor heard Ari running water at the kitchen sink, and then Ari appeared in the living room. Her tee had yellowish stains down the front, and she was wiping her face with a dish towel.

“Oh, my dear, are you all right?” Eleanor rose to go to her granddaughter.

Ari collapsed against her. “I saw Dad with another woman. At the rotary. In a convertible. He was smiling.”

“I see.” Eleanor led Ari to the sofa, settled her against the arm of the sofa, pulled an afghan up over her, and gave her a mug of tea.

Ari drank gratefully. She met Eleanor’s eyes. “I’ve got to go back outside. I barfed in your yard. I should clean it up.”

“Oh, never mind about that,” Eleanor said, waving her hand. “The rabbits will be glad of a free meal tonight.” She sank into a wing chair across from her granddaughter. “I wonder, Ari. Could you be pregnant?”

“What? Of course not! I haven’t—I’ve only been here a couple of weeks. I certainly haven’t had sex!” The moment she spoke, a chill ran through her. She said, “Wait.” She counted on her fingers. “I…I had sex with Peter three days before I broke off with him. I didn’t want to, but…he wanted to. I had just stopped taking my birth control pills. Oh, no—I haven’t gotten my period this week. I wasn’t paying attention to the dates. Oh, God, what if I am pregnant?”

Eleanor reached over and put her hand on top of Ari’s. “If you are, we will deal with it one way or another. First, let’s go into town