Edward’s lips found their way back up to hers. He began pressing into her and stopped. Mary looked at him in surprise. At that moment, over their own gasping, they both heard it. Voices outside. He held his breath. There was laughing and talking. Mary’s expression changed. It might have been her own mother about to walk in on them. She pushed him up, off her with a force that surprised him. He stood there naked beside the bed, neither of them moving, wondering if the people were coming to his house or walking down the beach.
“Helloooo!” a man’s voice sang out, from the other side of the door.
Edward found his shorts and stepped into them. Mary got up, grabbed her T-shirt with one hand and her shorts in the other, and darted into the bathroom.
The voices were silent for a few seconds, and Edward thought whoever they had heard had walked off. Then someone knocked on the door. Edward flinched. Someone giggled. A girl.
“Helloooo! Anyone home?”
After zipping up his shorts, Edward clicked on the outside light.
“Yes? Who is it?” His own question felt strange. It was the first time in that place he had asked it.
“It is I, Gene of Florida, and my seafaring companions!”
The girl giggled again. Someone else spoke. Another male.
Edward, alone in the room, looked back at the white dash under the bathroom door. Cautiously, he opened the door to face the two men and two women, all wore beach clothes and all looked to be in their twenties.
“Oh, well, this is a surprise,” the man standing in front of the others said. He had a tanned body and brown hair that reached the middle of his neck. His shirt was open except for the bottom button. This covered sky blue swim shorts so short that at first Edward thought the guy didn’t have anything on below.
“Where is the woman who lives here? Sorry – I came here, like, two years ago. Forgot her name. She let me stay a night.”
“I live here now. Been here almost a year.”
“Oh, right. Absolutely fantastic for you.”
The four exchanged humorous glances.
“Well, as I said, I am Gene. We’re sailing down from Florida.” He pointed with his thumb over his shoulder at the pier.
Edward looked out and could see a hull and the sliver of a single mast in the darkness beside the pier. They must have used spotlights and the glow from his window to find the landing.
“The lady who used to live here was absolutely a wonderful person. A real humanitarian. She let me stay in one of the rooms. Said it’s a waste. All those empty rooms on a big property like this one. A real waste, right? I know you have to guard the place – and I’m not trying to storm the castle. We’re not barbarians with clubs, right?” This got a giggle from the two women behind Gene. “Yeah, definitely not barbarians. It’s just we’ve been under sail for, like, four days now and we were looking for a charitable host who might lend us a room – a steady surface for a night, you know.”
“People aren’t allowed to stay in the houses—”
“That’s what the lady said, but she told me, she hated to see things go to waste. She said it was like the way the world ought to work. People sharing the excesses of what they have – we talked a lot, most of the night as I recall. We really opened up to each other. I’ll never forget it. She said that nobody would know. The owner is never around. Is that right? Hardly uses the place – sorry, what’s your name?”
“Edward. I can’t—”
Mary, now dressed, walked out of the bathroom. She stepped up behind him, smiling at the two other young women as if seeing them put her at ease.
“Well, hello. What’s your name, young lady?” Gene’s voice rose and fell as if talking to a child. “I’m Gene and this is my pirate crew.” He held out his hand to Mary.
“Mary,” she said and took his hand.
“Now I feel really terrible. Have we interrupted anything?”
Edward shared a glance with Mary. “No,” they said at the same time.
“Oh, good-good. We are truly exhausted. I was just telling Edward here – five days at sail, heading down to Granada if we don’t murder each other before then. We went through a storm near Dominican that almost chased us ashore. Thought we’d have to medivac out Charlie there – flat-on-his-face sick the entire time. Can you imagine being stuck in Dominican?” The young man behind Gene laughed and shook his head. “Oh, and we got Rachel and Anne with us also – terrible travelers. I have to wash the decks of their lunches every day.” Gene looked up to the sky, shook his head and made an exaggerated grunt as if greatly bothered.
Everyone laughed at this. This seemed to please Gene, a smirk growing on his face.
“Look,” Edward said, “I really can’t allow anyone to stay in the houses.”
“Oh, I see – I see.” Gene let out a long, showy sigh. “We shall just have to head out in the darkness.”
Edward could see Mary looking over the two girls. It was clear the long trip had rubbed the glamour off them. Their hair was tied back, but disheveled, their cheeks and shoulders sunburned, and their lips cracked and molting skin.
“What about the second house?” Mary squeezed his arm.
Edward slowly shook his head. “If something happens… I can’t.” Edward gave a shrug, raising his palms. “Look, if you want to use my bathroom here—”
“Ah, sure. Well, could we camp on the beach?”
Gene bent his head low to look up at them like a child begging his parents for something. Mary kept squeezing Edward’s arm.
“Well,” Edward said, “I guess you could camp on the beach. That’s OK—”
“You, sir, are a saint, a real saint.”
The four let out a breath, relaxing, apparently relieved that they wouldn’t need to continue sailing that night. Mary and the girls were soon chatting about the trip and the struggle of living on a boat. She showed them to the bathroom and the array of women’s items, lotions and shampoos and conditioners, she had supplied it with. These were items that Edward had never seen her bring in. He had only slowly become aware of them. The three girls disappeared into the bathroom like magician assistants going into a box. They didn’t reappear for an hour.
The men stayed in the kitchen. Edward crushed ice and fixed Gene and Charlie glasses of wine. Gene’s voice became the ambient sound of the house as he was able to find any subject to relate to, spending most of the time retelling Edward about sailing and the ports they’d visited on their way down.
“So, Eddy, where you from?” Gene raised his eyebrows and stared at Edward, yanking out the answer. “Oh, fantastic. Go Christmas shopping there every Thanksgiving,” Gene replied immediately. “Stayed there a few days last year on my way to London – my family used to live in England. My father did some exporting. Cotton and base fabrics, as they call it.” He said the word as if it were something that might have been a great hassle, like mowing the yard or finishing homework. “So, I had to do a lot of travelling – got arrested in Morocco once. Funny story.”
“Tell him, Gene. Tell him about Morocco. Tell him how you got arrested at that club,” Charlie managed to insert.
“Well, there in Morocco, if anyone in a club is doing drugs then everyone in the club is arrested. I like to call that place Moron-o.” He waited for a chuckle from Charlie. “Luckily, they saw the light, or should I say they saw the green. I was in some room in the jail for, like, two days. They didn’t put me with the regular criminals because they knew my family could pay something. It’s like an airline, you know. Got money – first class. No money – back with the chickens.” A laugh from Charlie. “My father paid some politician a few thousand and, miraculously, hours later I’m cleared of all charges. Huh! Country’s as bent as a boot. Ever been to Africa, Eddy? No? Well, you’re not missing anything, trust me.”
“Europe’s cool.” Charlie threw in his words fast like a heckler.