—
The summer days were hot and clear. Ari was glad for the routine of Beach Camp. Most evenings she spent with friends, idly shopping, enjoying dinner on the patio at the Boarding House, seeing a play or a movie. One friend, Peyton, remarked that Ari was glowing and voluptuous, and Michelle laughed. “That’s because she’s in love with my brother.” Ari thought, not unhappily, That’s because I’m pregnant. What Ari said was, “I’m in the sun five days a week, playing with children.”
She hadn’t heard from her father or mother, and neither had Eleanor. She replayed the event over and over in her head when she wasn’t with someone else, so she was more sociable than she’d ever been before, and it was a perfect time for strolling outside, swimming, sailing, having a drink with friends.
“I will compartmentalize,” she told herself, and tried to put her father and Bemi in a small ugly box at the back of her mind. It worked, sometimes, but never when she went to bed. Then, like a child, she remembered it all, and cried herself to sleep.
—
At the club dinner dance Friday night, Ari was certain from the way that Beck looked at her that he cared about her. They couldn’t stop touching each other, holding hands, pressing their knees together under the table, and when they stood chatting with friends, Beck kept his arm around her waist, holding her against him. Several friends teased her about being Beck’s date again.
“Don’t you have to go to Boston or something?” one friend asked.
“Yeah, give us a chance,” another friend said.
Ari laughed, feeling smug. Girl, you are riding for a fall, she told herself, but when Beck held her against him during a slow dance, his chin resting against her hair, she felt safe. At home.
They spent Saturday afternoon sailing with Hen. Ari was content to lean back in the sailboat and watch Beck show his little sister how to trim the sails, come about, tack, and jibe. He would be a good father, Ari thought.
Sunday afternoon they went swimming at Sesachacha Pond, where the water was separated from the ocean by a sandbar. The beach was small, but they found a place at the far end to put their towels and cooler. They entered the clear blue water together, swimming side by side, and floating. Beck’s body in his navy blue board shorts was long and lean and muscular. He had a scar along one upper arm from a bike accident when he was thirteen. He swam up to her, put his arms around her waist, and together they treaded water. Ari had never been quite so completely exposed to a man, with her wet hair plastered against her head and her face free of makeup. Beck kissed her on her mouth. Their legs slid together as they slowly kicked back and forth. They sank below the surface, still kissing. When they came to the surface, they grinned at each other and swam separate ways. Far away, children splashed each other, laughing. Ari rolled onto her back and floated as the water rocked her and the sun warmed her face.
Afterward, Ari drove them to her grandmother’s house so they could shower and dress. Eleanor wasn’t home—she was off with her new friend Silas, playing golf (playing golf? Eleanor played golf?)—but Ari and Beck took showers separately, dressed separately, and emerged clean, combed, and ready for Ari to drive Beck to his ferry.
All weekend, Ari had wondered what Beck had decided. Could he continue to share his life with a woman pregnant by someone else? Was he ready to be a parent?
When they drove near the ferry terminal, Ari pulled her car over to the side of the Harborside Stop & Shop, where there was never a place to park, but which was wide enough for her to park behind cars for a moment. Swarms of families, college kids, and older people strolled onto Straight Wharf where the Hy-Line was docked.
“I’m sorry I can’t walk you to the boat,” Ari said. She would not mention their relationship. She would not.
Beck turned toward her, his eyes warm. He took her hand in his, and for a moment, he looked at their joined hands.
“Ari.” He looked very serious. “This was a great weekend. You know I wouldn’t have brought Hen sailing with you if I thought I wouldn’t…see you again. Hen adores you. So do I. I think you know that. But I really need to think about this, about us. It’s huge. It’s important. Life changing. Please give me some more time.”
Tears spilled down Ari’s cheeks. She wanted him so much. Not only physical want, but spiritual and personal and everlasting. She knew it was too soon to make a decision. But she was pulled toward him like a compass toward true north.
She gathered herself. Sniffed back her tears. She wouldn’t beg. “I adore Hen, too,” she said, with a mischievous smile.
He nodded. He got out of the car, reached into the backseat to get his duffel bag, smiled at her, and walked away.
—
In August there was almost always a hurricane or tropical storm kicking up near Florida that brought high winds and crazy waves to the island. Monday, Beach Camp followed its usual routine, but Tuesday the wind arrived, not quite gale force, but strong enough to turn the ocean wild.
Under Cal’s direction, they took the Beach Camp kids to the south side of the island, where the waves were the most spectacular. Cal, Sandy, Ari, and two of the volunteer counselors who showed up that day formed a line about three feet from the spot where the waves hit the shore. The children
