We looked in on McKenna next. She was asleep on the couch. Leah pulled the blanket higher and returned a stuffed giraffe from the floor to the little girl’s side. We closed the door and skipped an empty bungalow on our way to #5, the couples bungalow. On the other side of the pool, dim light glowed in the windows of the group bungalow.
I gestured toward it. “Do you wanna join the others?”
Leah considered but then shook her head.
“Cool. I’m not in the mood either. But I thought I’d ask.”
We entered #5 and returned to the couch where we’d started. Leah rested an arm on the back and tucked her foot under her thigh. Her smooth, dark labia parted slightly, and she grinned when I noticed. Mr. Big still didn’t rise to the occasion, and I winced guiltily.
“Quit apologizing,” Leah chided. “I’m in the mood to talk anyway. So… when’re you moving back to Atlanta? Do you have an official date yet?”
“Not really. As soon as we find someplace to live. By the time school starts, for sure.”
“Do you have a realtor?”
“Not yet. We’ll find one next week.”
“I know someone,” she said. “I’ll give you her number. It’ll be faster. Besides, she and her husband might be interested in our little group, so I want you to meet her.”
“Ah, okay.”
“Moving on, I need to tell you about Erin.”
“Start with Brooke,” I suggested.
“Oh, that’s right! Yeah, sorry. Why did she call us instead of you?”
“Exactly.”
“Well, she knew you all were traveling today, but…” She paused and winced, like she couldn’t decide whether she was guilty or happy. “She called us because…”
I waited.
“Well, she wanted to see if Nate could handle swinging. Like, for real. She knew you were busy with school, so she called us. We got together in February in Atlanta. Things worked out, so we visited them in March.”
“Ah, okay. Is that all?”
“Yeah. She thought you might be upset.”
“No,” I said immediately, although I wasn’t entirely sure. “I mean, yeah, I’m a little disappointed, but she’s right, we were swamped with school until about a month ago.”
“She was going to tell you,” Leah said, “but then she got busy with her project, and Nate had his own work.”
“It’s all right. So… do we like him?”
“Yeah, he’s nice. He’s totally her type. He’s more of an introvert than I thought she’d find, but he doesn’t have a cabin in Montana or anything.”
My brow furrowed in confusion. “Sorry, you lost me.”
“The Unabomber? Ted Kaczynski? He lived off the grid in a cabin in Montana.”
“Oh, yeah! Right. I heard they’d caught him. Couldn’t miss it, really.”
“No. Anyway, Nate’s an introvert but not a loner, if that makes sense.”
“It does.”
“So, that’s what’s going on with Brooke,” Leah finished. “It was just a timing thing. And she was feeling a little guilty, so…”
“No worries.”
“Good. I was a bit worried too. I mean, she’s Christy’s girlfriend. I know how I’d feel if I thought someone had tried to steal Erin…”
“Speaking of which,” I said, “good segue.”
Leah grinned. “Almost like I do this for a living.”
“Ha! No kidding. Anyway… Erin? What the hell is she thinking, bringing a completely new guy to the Retreat?”
“That’s… a bit more complicated,” Leah said after a moment. “And, bear in mind, I haven’t actually met the guy. So I’m going by what she’s told me.”
“Go on,” I prompted.
All of a sudden she laughed.
“What?”
“Remember I always said she’d be thirty before she settled down? Well, looks like I was right.”
“If this guy is really The One.”
“Oh, I think he is. At least, the way Erin talks about him. Tom this and Tom that. It’s kinda cute, actually, like they’re teenagers. She’s head-over-heels, like you were, back when you figured out that Christy wasn’t such a choirgirl.”
“That wasn’t my fault,” I objected. “She was trying to fool me.”
“She did a good job, too!” Leah laughed.
“Very funny. Now, tell me about Erin’s guy.”
* * *
Erin and her mystery man arrived at the Retreat around midnight, although no one heard them. Leah and I were the last ones to go to bed, and we probably missed them by about fifteen minutes. Christy woke me in the wee hours of the morning, but she went back to sleep soon after. Then I lay awake for nearly an hour before I finally decided to get up, about six o’clock.
I put on a T-shirt, shorts, and running shoes. Then I checked on the girls before I slipped out the door. The morning was foggy and cool, unusual for July, although the scent of gardenias lingered in the air and made me smile.
I stretched and did some warmups on the patio before I walked around the clubhouse. I stopped at the sight of an unfamiliar car, a black Porsche 911 Carrera. At first I thought it was Carter’s, but it had Florida tags. And it practically screamed “midlife crisis,” so I immediately worried that Erin was dating another guy like the needy professor.
He’d been trying to recapture his youth by dating someone half his age, a twenty-year-old coed. But now Erin was ten years older. If she kept to her usual standards, her current guy would be fifty-something. He’d be in his sixties or even his seventies by the time their kids graduated from high school. What was she thinking?
“Hey, you must be Paul,” a man said from behind me.
His voice was deep and resonant, and I formed a picture of him in my head—older and distinguished, with dark hair gone to gray at the temples. He’d be tall and broad-shouldered, but with a few extra pounds around the middle.
I compressed my lips and fought down a wave of annoyance and concern for my sister. She was a grown woman, I reminded myself. She could take care of herself. She didn’t need me to look out for her.
I forced a smile, turned around, and prepared to meet my potential brother-in-law. My jaw went slack almost immediately, and I had to lower my gaze by six inches.
“Not what you were expecting?” the guy chuckled.
My cheeks glowed. “Sorry. Was it that obvious?”
“Not really,” he lied graciously. Then he extended a hand. His grip was firm and strong, confident without being a challenge.
He was much younger than I’d been expecting, closer to my age. He was small, too, barely 5’6” and maybe 140 pounds, although I looked him over and revised that upward. His forearms were corded with muscle, and his shirt was tight enough to show off the definition in his arms, shoulders, and chest.
He was attractive, with light brown hair and no gray at all. It was naturally wavy instead of straight like mine and Dad’s. He also wore glasses, fashionable tortoiseshell frames that made him look intelligent and friendly at the same time.
“I’m Thomas,” he said. “Tom. Ryland. Nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“And I’ve heard practically nothing about you,” I said truthfully.
His lips quirked in a grin, and I found myself warming to him.
“Er wanted to surprise everyone.” He said it exactly like I would’ve, with the same familiarity and affection. “So, how do I measure up?”
“Never judge a book by its cover.”
He laughed. “That’s what she thought you’d say.”
I decided to change the subject, so I hooked a thumb at the Porsche. “Yours?”
“Yeah,” he said with just the right amount of self-conscious embarrassment. “It’s a bit flashy, isn’t it? Like I’m compensating for something?”
“I was thinking midlife crisis, to be honest.”
“Ha! You might be right.”
“Although… you’re a bit young for that,” I hinted.