Noah and me to come onto the field, we didn’t hesitate. The girls saw us tossing the disc around and came running. There was laughter on the field that night; there was also a sense of communion. We played until the darkness gathered and we were no longer able to keep track of the disc that was our prize. When Blake and I collided and hit the grass, Zack announced the inevitable.
“Game called,” he said. “Before there’s a lawsuit.”
Laughing and grousing, we headed for the parking lot. Delia touched my arm in a sisterly gesture. “About those slacks of yours,” she said, “they’re raw silk, aren’t they?”
“I got them on sale at the end of last summer,” I said. “Even so, the only way I could justify buying them was promising myself I’d wear them for the next ten years.”
“Maybe you could turn them into cut-offs,” Delia said.
“Or a thong,” I said. “I’d better make tracks. Zack and Taylor are waiting in the car.”
“Tonight was fun, wasn’t it?” Delia said.
“Yes,” I said. “It was.”
“We need more fun,” Delia said, and her voice broke in one of those strange little cadences that made it impossible to tell if she was laughing or crying.
Zack kept the convertible’s top down on the drive home, and Taylor provided us with spirited observations on the stars and on the signs sporting the whimsical names cottagers had given their summer homes. Suddenly, she fell silent. I turned around to check.
“Is she all right?” Zack asked.
“She’s fine,” I said. “In fact, if you listen carefully, you’ll hear her snoring. Taylor is one of the few human beings I know who can move from full throttle to deep sleep in mid-sentence.”
“Lucky Taylor,” Zack said.
Our cottage was dark when we pulled up. “Damn,” I said. “I forgot to leave on a light.”
“I hate coming home to a dark house,” Zack said. “I’ll go in with you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know,” he said, turning and pulling his folded wheelchair from the back seat. In two minutes the wheelchair was ready for action and Zack was in it. “Want to give me the keys?” he said.
I fished around in my bag for the keys and handed them to him. Then I reached into the back of the car and wakened Taylor.
“We’re home,” I said. “But you’re too big for me to carry.”
“Okay,” she mumbled.
Still more than half asleep, Taylor leaned against me and we walked into the house. I took her down to her room, helped her on with her pyjamas, and smoothed the sheets after she slipped into bed.
“Sleep tight,” I said.
Taylor opened her eyes. “Hey, I forgot to tell you. Gracie’s mum’s coming home.”
“Is Gracie happy?”
“I don’t know. She just said her mother hasn’t anywhere else to go.”
“That’s kind of sad, isn’t it?”
“It’s really sad,” Taylor said, then she rolled over and burrowed deep into her covers.
Zack was by the sideboard in the living room, holding one of the action figures from Kevin’s collection. I went to him and scrutinized the figure in his hands. “Darth Vader,” I said. “I’m going to write a learned paper on how the action figures people choose reveal their inner lives.”
“Darth Vader was the scourge of the Jedi and the master of the dark side of the force,” Zack said. “Any new insights there about me?”
“No,” I said. “That’s pretty much my take on you.”
“So who’s your choice?” Zack asked.
“Wonder Woman,” I said. “I love those bracelets, and it would be handy to have a lariat that compelled complete honesty and obedience from anyone I chose to snare.”
Zack put Darth Vader back in place. “Is it okay if I stay for a while?”
“Of course,” I said. “Would you like a drink?”
“Actually, I was thinking it might be nice to sit on that couch over there and neck.”
“I’m sweaty,” I said.
“So am I,” Zack said. “We’ll cancel each other out.”
I went over to the couch. Zack slid off his chair into the place beside me and we started to make the kinds of moves I hadn’t made since I was a teenager. They were still potent. Within minutes, it was pretty clear we were both aroused.
“If the kids come in and catch us like this, I’m going to lose my moral edge,” I said.
“Can’t have that,” Zack said. He held me close, caressing my breasts. “Except for the obvious, I don’t know where this is going, Joanne.”
“Neither do I,” I said. “But for tonight, I think the obvious will be enough.”
“You’ll come by my house after the kids get home?”
“Yes,” I said. “I’ll come by.”
After Zack left, I sprayed my ruined slacks with Spot Shot and stepped into the shower. My mind was racing. The number of sexual partners I had had during my life could be counted on three fingers: my husband, Ian; a man named Keith Harris, who had always been more friend than lover and who was still a friend; and Alex Kequahtooway. I had never been casual about sex, and yet here I was, getting ready to towel off, dress, and walk down the road to spend the night with a man I’d known for less than two weeks. Seemingly, at the age of fifty-five, I was becoming a risk-taker.
After I’d stepped out of the shower, I looked at myself in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. Thirty-three years ago, when I was certain Ian and I would become lovers, I had stood on a chair in my room in the dorm and examined my body in the mirror above my bureau. The sun was pouring through the window and my flesh glowed firm and ripe as a pear. As I looked at my body that September afternoon, I had known that Ian was a lucky man. Zack Shreve would be less lucky. Still, none of us is perfect, and he had asked.
When I heard the front door open, I felt a moment of panic. It wouldn’t be easy explaining to my son what I was about to do. As it turned out, the gods were smiling. Leah was alone in the kitchen.
“Where’s our boy?” I said.
“Probably already asleep,” she said. “There’s a truckload of meat coming in early tomorrow morning.” She sniffed the air. “You’re wearing your best perfume and mascara and your second-best summer outfit. Want to tell me what’s going on?”
“Actually, I have to ask a favour,” I said. “I wonder if you’d mind keeping an ear open for Taylor. I have to go out for a while.”
“Out as in out on a date?”
“I’m going over to Zack Shreve’s.”
The smallest of frowns crinkled her brow. “Jo, are you sure about this?”
“No,” I said, “I’m not sure at all, but I’m going anyway.”
Leah dimpled. “Well, good for you. My Aunt Slava always says that summer is for bad boys.”
The front door to Zack’s house was open a crack. I stepped inside.
“I’m here,” I said.
Zack came in from the living room. He was wearing a white terry-towel robe. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
“You left the door open, and you’re undressed.”
“I’m an optimistic guy.” He extended his hand. “Ready?”
The colours in Zack’s bedroom were the same as those in the rest of the house – rust, metallic grey, and white – and the furniture was just as sleek, but this room was personal, with books, papers, and photographs. The bed was large enough to get lost in. On one of the bedside tables there was a bowl of apples, on the other, a white orchid in a graceful crystal vase.
“We can share the apples,” Zack said. “But the orchid’s for you.”
“Where did you get an orchid at eleven at night?”
“I snipped it from the plant in the kitchen. Lights on or off?”
