Vance shrugged. “I thought since you used to work at a magazine…just read it and tell me what you think.”
He set up the ladder. “You go first,” he said. “I’ll follow behind you.”
Love climbed the ladder and Vance followed. She felt his breath on the backs of her knees, and she worried he could see up her skirt.
“Look above you,” Vance said. “See the hatch?”
Planted in the dusty boards of the ceiling was a metal door, sealed with rubber like a refrigerator. It made a sucking noise as Love opened it to the night sky. She hoisted herself out onto the roof and Vance popped up beside her.
Love raised her arms to the cool air of the dark blue sky. “Much better than being stuck in the lobby.” Below, hotel guests and Beach Club members arranged their chairs and blankets. Love could see all the way down to the mob of people at Jetties.
“Be careful,” Vance said. He sat on the sloping roof. “Come here.”
“But the ocean!” Love said. The water was a shimmering blue, one shade lighter than the sky. A ferry floated toward the island. “This is gorgeous. Thank you for bringing me here.”
“I’d feel better if you sat down,” Vance said.
“What’s wrong, am I making you nervous?” She edged down to the lip of the sloping roof. It was just like skiing a double fault line.
“Love,” Vance said. “Please come here.”
She pretended she was at the Hadwen House, dancing under the stars. Love waltzed across the shingles to where Vance sat. He pulled her down so close to him that their shoulders brushed. And then, suddenly, Vance put his arm around her and kissed her cheek. Love stiffened. What was he doing? He kissed her mouth. Love wasn’t sure what she expected from a kiss from Vance, but she certainly didn’t expect it to be so soft, so warm, so tender.
There was a pop, like a giant balloon exploding, and then a shower of red, gold, white. Fireworks. Love closed her eyes and Vance kissed her again. Then she pulled away.
“Vance,” she said. “What’s going on?”
Vance’s profile was cool as a coin.
“I like you,” he said.
“You like me?” She stared across the roof of the hotel. There it was: a giant L, for Like.
“Yeah,” he said. “I do. Is that some kind of crime?”
“No,” Love said. “I’m just surprised.” It was so odd-he was so odd, so sullen and grouchy, always lurking in the shadows, badmouthing Mack, peeling out of the parking lot in his Datsun. He seemed better suited for someone like…well, like Tiny. In fact, Love suspected from the beginning that Vance and Tiny were conducting a little romance. But no, Vance liked Love. She couldn’t help but feel flattered.
“I’m much older than you,” she said. “Do you know that?”
“Not that much older.”
“Ten years older,” she said. “You’re thirty, right?”
Vance picked up her hand and held it. “I don’t care how old you are. I think you look great,” he said. “I think you look hot.” He kissed her again.
He was a terrific kisser, that was for damn sure. He had a strong, fit body, and he might have a handsome face if he ever smiled. Love shuffled her expectations, rearranged her plans. Could this work? Could she have a fling with Vance?
“Let me ask you something,” she said. “What do you think about children?”
Vance raised his eyebrows. “Children? What do you mean?”
“Do you want children?”
“Children?” Vance said. “Children? Hell, no. I just want to kiss you, Love.”
Love felt if she walked to the edge of the roof she could pluck a star out of the sky and take a bite. Her dream getting closer: a child that would be hers, and hers alone.
“So kiss me,” she said.
For Mack, the Fourth of July was the busiest day of the season. Still, each of the past six years, he sneaked away five minutes before the fireworks started to watch them with Maribel. Tonight, Maribel didn’t show. It had been a week since he told her about Andrea. He’d returned to the basement apartment only once-in the middle of the day when he knew Maribel would be at work-to get some clothes and his toothbrush. Everything was where it belonged, and Mack didn’t take too much. On his way back to the hotel he drove by the house on Sunset Hill, their Palace. They were so happy in the Palace. Mack idled his Jeep out front until another car pulled up behind him. He didn’t know what to do.
This year, for the first time, he watched the fireworks with Andrea and James. They sat on the steps of their deck, Andrea drinking a glass of red wine.
“Mind if I join you?” Mack said. He sat between them. “How’re you doing, James?”
“He has cotton in his ears,” Andrea said. “The fireworks scare him. Too loud.”
“Really?” Mack said.
“Of course, you’d have to be his mother to know that.”
“Well, now I know and I’m not his mother,” Mack said.
“You’re not his father either,” Andrea said.
Mack looked at her. He’d stopped by to help James shave again that morning, but Andrea was reading and barely looked up when he walked into the room. Now her honey-colored hair was wet and pulled severely into a bun. She slugged back her wine. “What do you mean by that?” he asked. “Are you angry with me?”
“I don’t want to talk about it right now,” Andrea said.
“Why not? James can’t hear us.”
“He’ll intuit something is wrong.”
“Is something wrong?”
“Oh, Mack,” she said. “I don’t know why you told Maribel.”
“I had to tell her.”
“You didn’t have to tell her. The last six summers it wasn’t a problem. You and I had our friendship and then you went home to Maribel. And James and I went home to Baltimore. But now it’s ruined, my dear. The bubble’s burst. The spell is broken. It’s not fantasy anymore, it’s reality, and someone got hurt. You’re sleeping in an old woman’s cottage, and I’m scared to death you’re going to show up on our doorstep this winter.”
“You made it clear you don’t want that,” Mack said.
“I don’t want it and you don’t want it either,” Andrea said. She set down her wineglass and took his hand. “You’re confused. You have to make a decision about your father’s farm and your job here at the Beach Club, but you did not have to choose between me and Maribel. There was no decision to make.”
“Because you don’t love me,” he said.
“It’s not just me, it’s you. You love Maribel. It’s written all over you.”
“I know,” Mack said.
The sky crackled and caught on fire. James took Mack’s other hand.
“Red,” James said. “Silver. Purple. Green and purple.”
“Here we go,” Andrea said. “The Recitation of the Colors.”
“Blue and gold. Silver only. Pink, purple, green.”
Andrea sighed. “All I want is for him to grow up knowing I loved him. That I put him first. Do you think he’ll ever know that?”
“Pink and gold. White squiggles.”
Mack squeezed James’s hand. “Of course he’ll know you love him. He knows it now, he counts on it, he lives for it. I am jealous of James. He’s cornered the market on your love. None left for anybody else.”
“That’s not fair,” Andrea said.
“None left for me, then,” Mack said.
“Silver and green,” James said. “Blue and purple.”
“Will you still help James shave?” Andrea asked. “Will you still wave good-bye to us when we pull out of the parking lot?”
“You know damn well I’ll do whatever you ask me,” Mack said.
“I want you to get back together with Maribel,” Andrea said. “Please? I won’t be able to leave until you patch this up.”