Chapter Eighteen
MILLY
Milly laid her clothes out for the next day’s tennis lesson.
She only had two tennis-appropriate outfits—one skirt and top, and one dress, and she had to wash them daily to ensure she had something ready for her next lesson.
Was it excessive to take daily lessons, she wondered as she smoothed the pleats of the skirt hanging over the back of the chair in her bedroom.
Yes, probably, she admitted, but she loved it.
She looked forward to her time with Adele, and in just a few days she was seeing improvements in controlling the ball.
She’d felt quite excited when she’d seen a few women gather at the court, watching her take lessons with the only female coach at the club, as if she’d had some small part in ushering in that change.
She rushed downstairs when she heard the telephone ring, wondering if it might be Lloyd. She hadn’t heard from him since he left on Sunday morning and it was now Thursday.
“Kincaid residence,” she said.
“Good afternoon.” It was a man’s voice, and Milly thought she heard a hint of an English accent. “I saw a posting for a guest cottage for rent, and I wondered if it was still available.”
“I’m afraid not; it’s already rented for Bal Week.”
“Bal Week?” he asked.
“Oh, I assumed you were inquiring about this week. It’s a busy time here; the colleges and high schools have a spring break.”
“I see. How about next week?” he asked. “I’m a journalist and documentarian, and I need to do some research in the area.”
“Oh,” Milly said, her interest piqued.
She hadn’t planned to rent the guest cottage out again.
Lloyd hadn’t been thrilled that she’d rented the cottage to college kids in the first place, but the extra money would allow her to keep taking lessons with Adele without having to ask for Lloyd’s permission.
And the more she played, the better she would become, and the more chance she’d have to impress her husband when he finally came back around.
“Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to rent it out for one more week,” she said. “It’s nothing fancy, just a small space behind our house. My current guests will be leaving Sunday.”
“It sounds perfect,” he said. “I could be there by Monday.”
“All right,” Milly said, jotting down his name and giving the him the address and the weekly rate. “I’ll need a letter of reference,” she said, wanting to ensure that this man was reputable.
“Not a problem,” he said.
“See you next week.”
As she hung up the phone a small thrill ran through her.
It was the first time in her life that she was making her own money, not being given pocket money from her parents or a marital allowance from her husband.
It might not amount to much, and she already knew exactly how she was going to spend it, but something about the fact that she’d posted the listing, she’d made the place cozy and welcoming, and she was now taking on a second tenant—something about that gave her hope.
Later that night, Jack and Debbie fell into an easy sleep the minute their heads hit the pillow, tired from an impromptu afternoon of digging for sand crabs on the bay.
They were bathed, fed, in clean pajamas, and now, hopefully, happily dreaming—something else Milly took some satisfaction in.
Lloyd had been away for four nights already and wasn’t expected to return for another week.
She hadn’t called him at work and she vowed not to.
She wouldn’t beg him to come home; instead she would wait for him to miss her, or at least miss the kids, and she was surprisingly calm about it.
She’d had a glass of wine with dinner, which helped.
She was alone, yes, but she didn’t feel particularly lonely.
The children were taken care of and occupied, and the house was coming together, slowly.
Things were far from perfect, but the day had gone smoothly, and for at least a brief moment she felt stable.
Later in the kitchen, she poured herself a second glass of wine.
When she noticed she still had her apron on from cooking dinner, she stood to hang it on the back of the door.
Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a man in her yard.
She gasped, instinctively picking up the serrated knife that she’d just washed and left to dry by the sink, but when she pulled back the corner of her lace demi-curtains, she saw it was one of the college guys, sitting by candlelight at her outdoor table.
“Good Lord,” she whispered. She set the knife down and opened the kitchen door. “You’ll get yourself killed sneaking around in someone’s yard like that, you know,” she called out.
He looked up sheepishly, and she recognized Wes. “I hope it’s all right that I’m here. The guys went out, but I’ve got some studying to do and the night air helps me stay awake.”
Milly picked up her wineglass and walked out to the yard. “Now that I know it’s just you and not a stalker, it’s fine, but studying during Bal Week? Shouldn’t you be out dancing the night away?”
“I have a big exam coming up. I don’t want to wait until the last minute.”
“How responsible.” Milly would not have had the same kind of fortitude when she was a student.
“How’s your evening?” Wes asked, glancing at her glass.
“Oh, I’m celebrating a relatively easy bedtime. Would you like some?”
“No, thank you, I need to stay sharp,” he said, “but I could use a little breather.”
Milly took a seat at the table. “What are you studying?” She tried to peek but he closed the notebook and placed his hands on top.
“I don’t want to bore you with this,” he said. “Did you have a nice dinner with Mr. Kincaid? I haven’t seen him around yet.”
Milly laughed dryly. “No one has.” She took a sip of her wine.
“He works a lot.” Wes raised his eyebrows, waiting for more.
Oh, what the heck, Milly thought, this kid doesn’t live here, he doesn’t know anyone in this town.
It wouldn’t hurt to lighten the load, get some of this secrecy off my chest. “He doesn’t come home much.
He loves his kids, but the two of us…” She shrugged her shoulders.
“I don’t know, it’s a mess. He doesn’t want to be here. ”
“Damn,” he said. “What a fool.”
Milly blushed at his comment, even though she could sense he was just being kind.
“The funny thing is he’s a good man, actually, but it seems there’s obviously something going on that I’m not privy to.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“He works with a lot of beautiful women,” Milly said, shrugging. “It’s hard to compete with that.”
“Jeez,” Wes said, lowering his voice. “Then he’s missing what’s right in front of his eyes.”
Milly waved away his comment; she wasn’t fishing for compliments.
She couldn’t believe she was blurting all this out.
Maybe it was the wine helping her release more misery than she realized she was holding inside; either way, it felt good to get it off her chest. “I can’t tell anyone about it, obviously.
I’m new in town. I’ve got a reputation to maintain and children to raise.
It won’t do them any good if people get to talking, so I have to keep up the charade of being a happily married, perfect family of four. It’s tiring.”
“I’m really sorry,” he said, a seriousness overtaking what should be a carefree, youthful face.
Milly had to stop talking, stop burdening this poor fellow with her problems, but it was such a relief to speak freely.
“I’m getting used to it, and the children are fine; they don’t know there’s anything going on, just that he’s working a lot.
And quite honestly, the more I settle in, the more I realize it’s not so bad to be alone. ”
His brow was furrowed now, and she noticed how much better he’d looked moments ago, burden-free. Dear God, she was bringing him down too. She quickly changed the subject.
“Can you see to study with just the candlelight?”
“It’s fine.”
“How about you?” she asked. “Is there someone special you’re going steady with?”
“Not right now,” he said. “I have to focus on school, and then I’m sure the right girl will come along.”
“Things must have changed since I was in school, because all anyone wanted to do was find the one and settle down. No one was all that concerned about their studies, not even the guys, as far as I could tell.”
“Yeah, I see that too sometimes, but I love what I’m learning.”
“I used to love learning too,” Milly said, thinking back wistfully on her school days before things got complicated.
“It’s funny, I sort of forgot that. I’m taking tennis lessons now.
I know it’s not the same as actual studies, but in addition to being physically challenging, it’s also got my mind going.
There are so many things to think about—where to hit the ball, how to hit it, how to move your legs, how to anticipate what your opponent will do, all the coordination. ”
Wes leaned in. “I bet you’re really good.”
“No,” she laughed. “I just started, but it’s good to have something else to focus on other than my crumbling marriage.”
“I hope things get better for you,” Wes said. “I really do.”
“Oh, it’s fine, well, it’s not fine, but you know…
” she said, suddenly embarrassed for saying too much and worried she’d already stayed too long.
“I won’t keep you from your studies.” But she didn’t want to leave; she liked sitting out here with him, talking freely.
“Are you sure I can’t pour you a splash? ”
“Thank you, I’m very tempted,” he said. “But I’ll decline. I’ll study now so I can let loose the rest of the week.”
“Yes. Get back to work,” she said smiling. “And good luck with your test.”
“Thank you, Milly. Good luck to you too.”