Chapter Twenty-Seven
MILLY
There was a gentle tap on the kitchen door, and Milly tensed, expecting it might be Rutherford asking if she had any news about Adele—which she didn’t, and she wouldn’t reveal it even if she did.
It was warm and sunny this afternoon but had been raining on and off for two days, so Milly hadn’t seen Adele for her lessons.
The children were engrossed in a game of Chutes and Ladders with Leticia in the living room.
She took a deep breath and opened the door.
“Wes,” she whispered, barely able to speak.
He had no reason to be there anymore, no excuse of renting the guest cottage or looking out for his brother. She glanced out to the back alley to see if anyone was walking by.
“What are you doing here?”
“That’s not the greeting I was hoping for,” he said, joking.
“Sorry, I’m just surprised,” she said quietly. “I didn’t expect to see you again.”
His eyes widened. “Ever?”
“Well, no,” she said, stepping out and pulling the door closed behind her. She felt a shocking rush at the sight of him, but this wasn’t the right place for that: There were neighbors, that reporter in her cottage, and her children all within earshot.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“I just don’t know where we can talk; I have a new tenant.”
“I have something I want to show you. Can you get away for a little while?”
She popped her head back inside the kitchen and heard the children laughing. “Tu turno, Leti,” she heard Debbie saying in Spanish. “Tu turno.”
“OK,” Milly said, turning back to Wes, “but I can’t be gone too long.”
She went into the living room. “Kids, I have to run to the market and drop something off at the post office.”
“Can I come, Mommy?” Jack said.
“No, sweetheart, stay with Leticia; it’s almost your dinnertime.”
“Not fair,” Jack said, but he was immediately back in the game when Debbie told him it was his turn.
Before she returned to the kitchen Milly stopped in the bathroom, smoothed her hair, and pinched her cheeks.
She shook her head. This is ridiculous, she thought, slipping on her shoes in the hallway.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“It’s a short walk, maybe fifteen minutes,” he said as they made their way up the alley toward North Bay Front. “Is that all right?”
“It’s fine,” Milly said.
They walked in silence for a brief moment, and their night together flashed through Milly’s mind.
“So,” she said, forcing herself to think about something different, “how’s it been back in L.A.?”
“Good. I had my first exam on Monday. It was eight hours straight. I was exhausted.”
“Eight hours? Good Lord! How did you do?”
He smiled. “I aced it.”
“That’s great, Wes, I’m so happy for you.”
“One down, many, many more to go.”
As they walked, the back of his hand lightly brushed hers and she looked up at him, catching her breath, as if he’d done something far more explicit.
“Sorry,” he said, giving her a half smile that suggested he wasn’t sorry at all. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered.
“Wes,” she said, looking around. “Not here.” Then a moment later she said, “I’ve missed you too.”
When they crossed the bridge off the island and turned left, she wondered if he was taking her to the club, and for a brief second she envisioned him swimming at the pool, her sitting on the edge, letting her feet hang in the water as he swam up to her, his shoulders glistening from the sunlight.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked.
“Almost there, I promise.”
They passed the club and kept going, then turned down a pathway through a gravel parking lot, toward a marina. She followed him along a wooden boardwalk, passing yachts of all sizes, until they reached a turquoise wooden boat about thirty feet long with a white cabin.
“We’re here,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“Come on,” he said, climbing the ladder aboard and reaching back for her. “Take my hand.”
“Are we allowed to do this?” she asked, confused.
“Yes,” he said. “Trust me.”
Once on board she walked around the deck and ran her hand around the rail.
“Do you like it?” he asked.
“Yes, it’s beautiful,” she said, opening the door to the cabin and peeking down the stairs to the lower deck.
“Good. Because I just bought it,” he said. “I’m going to live on it while I do my residency.”
“Live on it?”
“Live on it,” he repeated.
“But your residency is in Los Angeles,” she said, bewildered.
“Actually, it’s here,” he said. “It’s at the new Hoag Hospital in Newport Beach.”
None of it made any sense, and yet the idea of having him so close sent a thrill through her.
“But you’re at UCLA. I assumed your residency would be there too.”
He shrugged his shoulders.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You kind of left in a rush, remember?” he said and smiled.
It made her blush to think of their last moments together, putting her clothes back on, him still shirtless on the sofa, then standing to zip up the back of her dress, almost as sensual as his taking it off.
“The residency at Hoag was another reason to spend the week down here with my brother. I had some appointments lined up to see boats.”
“Do you know anything about boats?” she asked, though she had a hundred other more important questions running through her head, along with a flood of emotions.
She had really believed that she wouldn’t see him again.
She’d thought about it a lot and was convinced that he’d come into her life to unlock some part of her, to show her what she was missing, what she needed, but that was all.
It had been crushingly disappointing to think that their time together was so brief, but over the past few days she had been forcing herself to accept it.
He was a young doctor-to-be, a heartthrob for any gal, and she hardly expected him to look her up again.
She couldn’t understand what she could possibly have done for him.
And jumbled up in her thoughts there was a rush of panic.
He was here, he had come to her, and with him living here, so close to her, how would she ever have any restraint?
If he found a new girlfriend and she had to ever see them together, it would be the end of her.
“I know a thing or two,” he said smiling.
“This, where you’re standing, is the cockpit.
It looks like it was set up to have a tiller here.
” He pointed to a small handlelike contraption on the floor.
“But it has a helm”—he grabbed the wheel—“which I prefer.” He took a few steps to the front of the boat and Milly followed.
“This is my favorite spot.” He lay down and put his hand behind his head.
“You can do a little bow riding here, feel the breeze, feel the waves. And then the salon is downstairs.”
He reached toward her, took her hands, and pulled her closer to him. “I can see the thoughts spinning through your beautiful mind,” he said. “We have a little time, right?”
She nodded.
“Talk to me.” Sitting on the bow, he leaned his back against the window, gesturing for her to sit beside him. The late-afternoon sun was a deep orange, reflecting off the still, glassy water and putting the most beautiful glow on his face. A seagull cawed in the sky above.
She sat down next to him but didn’t know where to start. “I am happy to see you, so happy. Relieved, actually.”
He took her hand in his, linking his fingers through hers, enclosing it in his other hand. “You have no idea,” he said, his dark-brown eyes steady on hers. “I have not been able to stop thinking about you.”
Milly felt her heartbeat race. She’d never felt this kind of longing, and it had been years since she’d felt seen, wanted.
But even then, it was never like this. As he studied her, she couldn’t help wondering what he saw in her.
Jack and Debbie’s mother? A lonely housewife?
Or could he somehow see the woman trapped inside?
She’d been thinking of him far too much since their night together, her yearning stretching out in all directions, but to know he thought of her too was shocking.
She wanted to know more: What had he been thinking, specifically?
But she also needed to calm her thoughts and racing heart, to be levelheaded, sensible, so she brought the conversation back to the present.
“So you know your way around this thing, but tell me more,” she said. “Why a boat?”
He laughed. “My dad used to take me out on his boat when I was little, and Luke too sometimes; it was kind of our thing. I used to love it. So peaceful, so calm. Just us, away from the distractions in his life, away from school, away from home. I looked after Luke a lot. Mom hated it when Dad drank; she’d lock herself in her room, away from him.
” He looked out to the other yachts moored in the marina.
“Anyway, once he stated drinking more, he couldn’t keep up with the maintenance.
Boats are a lot of work, and it became too much for him, so he sold it.
I was devastated when I found out. I always told myself I would buy one someday, reclaim the peace that it brought me as a kid.
I’ve been saving for it ever since. I figure now’s as good a time as any: I’ve got to find a place to live anyway, and I didn’t think you’d let me stay in your guesthouse. ”
She laughed and shook her head. “Listen, Wes,” she said turning toward him, “that night that we spent together, it was the most incredible night of my life. I will never be able to forget how you made me feel. I didn’t even know that was possible, that kind of”—she blushed but forced herself to go on—“that kind of pleasure.” Just saying the words seemed to raise her body temperature, and he ran his hand up her arm, but she stopped him.
“But I’m still a married woman, I have children, it’s complicated; you don’t need complicated.
You’re young, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. ”