Chapter Eleven
TERESA - NEW ROCHELLE, NY
Teresa hunkered down in the boat's cabin to escape the glaring midday sun. She’d agreed to go out on the boat that day, knowing it had been a while since she and the kids had joined Frank at Drifters.
When they first arrived, Frank and one of the boat mechanics, Tommy, were putting the finishing touches on an engine repair they’d started before she arrived.
Frank assured her they would finish it in only fifteen more minutes—the perfect amount of time to make lunch, which she preferred to do when the boat wasn’t moving anyway.
She watched Anthony scarf down the apple slices she’d cut up to tide him over.
That kid had some appetite. Like mother, like son.
Lena was reading a book in the boat’s bow, with their new little Yorkie, Libby, curled up beside her.
Lena had become quite attached to that dog, insisting they bring Libby on the boat and not leave her at the apartment all day alone.
Teresa agreed but could tell Frank wasn’t thrilled with the idea.
In fact, Frank didn’t seem enamored with the new dog at all, even though he didn’t need to take care of her.
That task was, of course, left for Teresa since he was hardly ever home.
“Tommy, you going to have some lunch with us before we shove off from the dock? I’ve got Caprese salad and salami and provolone sandwiches that’ll be ready in a few. I’m sure you’re hungry. Not to mention thirsty. It’s scorching out there.”
“Yeah, thanks, Teresa. I’d love some,” Tommy said, breaking into a big, white-toothed smile.
Teresa smiled back at him. Tommy had thick wavy black hair, crystal-blue eyes, a muscular physique that showed off his athleticism, and one of the best laughs Teresa had ever heard.
She remembered Frank saying that Tommy was a hard worker and had gained the respect of the owner, Jim, as well as the boat owners and club members.
It didn’t hurt that Tommy was distractingly good-looking, Teresa thought.
“Hot as hell,” Frank said, climbing out of the engine compartment from the belly of the boat.
Tommy wiped his forehead with his hand. “You’re not kidding. Man, it's hot out today.”
He grabbed the bottom of his T-shirt, which was tucked into his jeans, and pulled it up over his head, taking it off.
Then he used his shirt to wipe his forehead and threw it down on the deck.
His well-defined muscles were covered in a light sheen of sweat, glistening in the sun.
He didn't have that much hair on his chest, but what he had was well placed, running right down the middle, between his pecs. His stomach rippled, revealing six-pack abs. He had a small line of hair that extended from his navel down past the point of his jeans’ zipper.
Teresa couldn’t help thinking about how sexy that line was.
Stop it. You’re staring. She felt herself blush.
Just as she turned away, something caught her eye—Frank.
He was staring at Tommy, transfixed, like Tommy’s bare chest was the answer to all life's problems or maybe just Frank’s prayers.
Tommy was oblivious, his eyes fixed on the small engine part in his hands that he was trying to repair.
But Teresa wasn't oblivious. Frank was unwilling or unable to tear his eyes from Tommy's skin and physique, paralyzed into stillness.
Afraid Frank would catch her watching him, Teresa looked away, but not before she saw an expression on Frank's face. And it was unmistakable. Lust.
Teresa swiftly turned back to preparing lunch, her mind racing, wondering what she’d just witnessed.
Is he jealous of Tommy’s physique? And then a thought flashed into her mind.
Is Frank attracted to Tommy... in that way?
Teresa gasped, surprised at her thoughts.
Get ahold of yourself. She had to be wrong.
She snuck a glance at Frank, who had refocused on the engine repair. As if sensing her gaze, he looked up, a quizzical expression on his face. Maybe he knew she’d seen him staring. But she didn’t think so.
Teresa swallowed nervously and gave him a small smile. She put on her supportive-wife facade and ignored the thoughts churning in her head. She wondered if this was her special armor—avoiding the truth.
Teresa squinted against the late-afternoon sun, shielding her eyes with her hand.
She adjusted the towel draped over her legs to cover the sliver of skin that had been exposed to the sun when she shifted position on the lounge chair.
She was sitting by the Drifters pool with Sharon, the wife of the club owner, Jim, making small talk while Frank finished working on some projects on the boat.
Anthony and Lena were frolicking around in the shallow end of the pool, where she could keep her eye on them.
“Teresa, it’s so good to see you here today. I haven’t seen you down at the club much lately,” Sharon said.
“I’ve been spending a lot of time with my family on weekends. They all want to see the kids, and Frank has been busy here at the club,” Teresa said.
“Speak of the devil,” Sharon said, and Teresa turned to see Frank leaning over the edge of the pool, splashing the kids, who were happily bobbing up and down.
Anthony splashed his dad back, and Frank made a show of jumping back to avoid the water spray, laughing. “You almost got me, kid.”
Lena swam closer to her brother, who then turned his attention to her, splashing her silly.
She sputtered and yelped, but her wide grin gave away her delight.
Teresa smiled at the scene as Frank plopped down on the vacant lounge chair on the other side of her.
He leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek.
“Ready to head home?” she asked, assuming he’d finished up on the boat.
“Change of plans,” he said. “I'm heading out to the city with Henry for the night to meet some friends. Have dinner here with the kids. I’ll let them know at the snack bar you’re going to put in an order and add it to our tab.”
“Tonight? I thought we’d go home as a family.” Is it too much to ask that we’ll be together as a family for dinner on a weekend night?
“Sorry, hon. There are some friends we’ve been trying to meet up with, and they’ll be in the city tonight, so Henry and I want to see them.” He wouldn’t look directly at her. He kept shifting his eyes around, smiling at the kids in the pool or at other people as they walked by.
“Oh, okay...” It wasn’t okay. “Who are these friends?”
“No one you know. They live on Long Island, and Henry and I met them once out on the boat when we had dinner on City Island.”
“Hmm,” she said, feeling her insides knot up. She wanted to open Frank’s head and peer inside. Are they really meeting these unnamed friends, or is it just going to be him and Henry? She had so many questions and fears but didn’t trust herself to voice them.
She no longer felt like the wife who’d believed her husband when he vowed to love and honor her so long as they both shall live.
Her heart ached as she realized they’d entered a new phase of their marriage.
She’d become cautious and careful around Frank lately—resigned to his actions and not bold enough to question them.
She felt nostalgic for a time, years earlier, when things had been more carefree.
Frank glanced toward the parking lot, and she looked in that direction.
There was Henry, with his hand blocking the sun from his eyes, sandy-blond hair glowing, crisp linen pants hanging loosely on his lean frame.
Frank beamed and waved at Henry, who waved back enthusiastically.
She could sense an electric current running under the surface.
It was palpable. Teresa felt like an interloper, a third wheel.
She felt a catch in her throat and thought she might cry.
Frank turned back to her, brushed his lips lightly against her cheek, and met her eyes. “I'll be back by midnight. Don't wait up.” In that instant, she saw a flash of regret.
He went to the edge of the pool and called the kids over then tousled Anthony’s hair and gave Lena a kiss on the forehead.
They were oblivious to where he was going, probably assuming he was heading back to work, which gave them more time to play.
And then Frank was off, heading toward Henry, away from her.
She watched his figure get smaller and smaller until he reached Henry in the parking lot.
Then they disappeared into Henry’s car and drove off.
A growing fright was taking root in her mind, and she couldn't shake it. When she and Frank had become friends with Henry and Joanie a few years ago, they’d gotten together as two families, including wives and kids.
But it had been ages since she’d seen Joanie or their kids.
Lately, Frank and Henry spent their time alone together.
She wondered if there was something between them.
Sharon jumped right back into their conversation from earlier. “Yes, Frank has been here a lot lately. So has Henry. I swear I see them here every weekend together. They’re such good pals. Always out on their boats when Frank’s not working. It’s like they’re glued to the hip. You must be jealous!”
Teresa recoiled as if someone had slapped her face. A shiver ran through her. Is she implying Henry and Frank are...?
Sharon studied her. “Teresa? Did I upset you?” she asked hesitantly. “I was just teasing.” Sharon reached out her hand and put it on Teresa’s arm. “Of course, I know you aren’t jealous of Frank’s friendship with Henry. I just meant they spend so much time together.”
Teresa was unnerved but tried to act normal. “Yes, I knew what you meant.” She hesitated. “It’s just that Frank spends a lot of time at the club and on the boat, and I miss him.”
Teresa stopped, afraid she might cry. No, no, no. Do not cry to Sharon. That wouldn’t be a good idea. It would get back to Jim, and then back to Frank, and she didn’t want to make waves.