The Summerhouse Read online

  She walked for about an hour, then decided that she’d better get back to the cabin. No doubt they had dinner at a certain hour, and no doubt she was being discussed now as being a bad guest for not helping, et cetera, but her walk had done her good. It had been a shock to arrive at a place, uninvited, unwanted. And Roger’s reasons for begging her to go with him had been a shock, but now, as she stood under a tree that had to be a couple of hundred years old and looked down at the sparkling water, she thought, What the hell? She hadn’t wanted to go with Roger because she hadn’t wanted to nurse him. She’d wanted a break from twenty-four-hour-a-day nursing and now she was going to get it.

  When she got back to the cabin, she was feeling much, much better.

  “You must be Madison,” said a woman who greeted Madison the moment she stepped inside the door, and instantly, Madison knew that she was Mrs. Randall, Frank’s wife, the woman with the old, old money. She was small, and beautifully preserved. No surgeon’s knife had ever touched her face, but her skin was an example of what happened after a lifetime of care. What lines she had were confined to about her eyes, and her skin was soft and flawless. She wore lightweight wool trousers that had to be ten years old but Madison knew they must have cost a thousand dollars when new. And they had probably been made just for this woman. A pale pink cashmere twinset topped the trousers.

  Later Madison couldn’t believe she’d said what she did, but maybe it was the fresh air on top of Roger’s taunts that she not embarrass him, but before she could stop herself, Madison said, “What, no pearls?”

  The moment she said it, Madison put her hand over her mouth in horror, but Mrs. Randall laughed, then companionably clasped Madison’s arm to hers. “Frank said you were a delight, and now I see why. Oh, do come inside and liven up this place. All the girls are after your husband.”

  “Whatever for?”

  At that Mrs. Randall stopped and looked up at Madison, her face serious for a moment. “Oh, my goodness. Well, hmmm,” she said thoughtfully.

  “I didn’t mean—” Madison began. “I mean—”

  “No need for apologies, dear,” Mrs. Randall said, again starting to walk. “Are you hungry? Please tell me that you aren’t dieting to keep your slim figure.”

  “No,” Madison said, smiling. “I work off any food I have time to eat by lifting Roger in and out of the bed.”

  “I see,” Mrs. Randall said seriously. “I had no idea, but then I know Roger’s parents somewhat. Not socially, of course, but I have met them. And one hears things. I believe they like to spend their money where it can be seen.”

  “Yes,” Madison said, and that’s all she could say. It was either that one word or she’d start talking and never stop.

  “Well, dear, you stay with us and have a nice long rest. The girls will take Roger off your hands.”

  “That would be kind of them,” Madison said, feeling better by the moment. This woman, who reeked good manners and old money, was making her feel better than she had in a long while.

  Again, Mrs. Randall gave Madison a sharp, quick look. “Come in to dinner. And prepare to defend yourself.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Madison answered as they entered the dining room.

  Everyone was about to take a seat, but when they looked up and saw Madison, it was as though the proverbial wet blanket had been tossed over the room. The three young women, who were clustered around Roger and a blond man who was on crutches, broke apart, guilty looks on their faces.

  Madison wanted to say, “Don’t stop on my account,” but she didn’t. Instead, she took the seat that Mrs. Randall pointed to and sat down. When everyone was seated, Mr. and Mrs. Randall at each end, Madison found she was next to Mrs. Randall, across from Terri, the young woman who had so lustily kissed her husband. The blond man, who introduced himself as Scotty, was next to Terri, and Roger was at the end next to Frank.

  The huge pine table was loaded with great bowls of steaming hot food, all in plain blue-and-white china that looked as though it could have been purchased at Sears. But at the top of each plate was a W, which, without being told, Madison guessed was the initial of Mrs. Randall’s maiden name.

  After everyone had helped themselves from the bowls of food, Mrs. Randall said brightly, “Thomas arrives tomorrow.”

  When that announcement seemed to shock the whole group into stillness, Madison looked up from her plate. A feeling of gloom seemed to have descended on them.

  “And who is Thomas?” Madison asked.

  “My elder son,” Mrs. Randall answered, and there was laughter in her voice.

  Curiously, Madison looked at the others at the table. Mr. Randall’s eyes were dancing in amusement, but Roger, Scotty, and the three young women had their noses almost to their plates.

  This sight cheered Madison up considerably. “Tell me all about him,” she said happily, smiling at Mrs. Randall.

  “How should I characterize my eldest son?” Mrs. Randall said, holding her fork aloft.

  “He’s a throwback to an earlier generation of my wife’s family,” Frank said.

  “Yes,” Mrs. Randall said. “The Wentworths seem to be divided into two groups, those who earn money and those who spend it.”

  “I thought money was not to be spoken of at the table,” said Nina, who Madison had learned was the Randalls’ third and youngest child. Uncharitably, Madison thought that it was a good thing that she had money because upon closer view, the girl was not attractive. She gave the illusion of being pretty, the illusion that time and money gave a person, but . . . well, Madison thought, ten years from now she was going to look much more like her father than her mother.

  “That’s in public, dear,” Mrs. Randall said. “In private we may speak of what we want.” She turned back to Madison. “What my husband is saying is that my eldest son is one of the earners. Thomas has his nose to more serious matters than the rest of us have. My son has finished his third year of medical school. He’s going into rehabilitation medicine.”

  “And will probably do something great and noble,” Scotty said under his breath; then the others, including Roger, snickered.

  That Roger was close enough to the family that he knew their private jokes made Madison angry. In the last two years she’d tried to get him to talk to her about something other than what was hurting him and how miserable he was. Why couldn’t he have told her about the Randalls?

  “He sounds like a nice man,” Madison said, looking at Mrs. Randall.

  “I think so, but then I’m prejudiced. Nice or not, Thomas is certainly unique. You know how mothers say, ‘Johnny didn’t smile until he was four and a half months old. I was ready to give up’? I’m still waiting for my elder son’s first smile.”

  At that everyone at the table laughed politely and Madison knew that it was an oft-repeated story, but she was still intrigued by this other brother. Maybe right now she was feeling an affinity with him.

  “Thomas will hate you.”

  Turning to the speaker, Madison said, “I beg your pardon?”

  Everyone was looking at Robbie, aghast at her rudeness. “I meant nothing personal. It’s just that Thomas isn’t interested in pretty girls.”

  “Speaking from experience?” Scotty asked, then, like a junior high kid, looked at Roger to share the joke.

  “Why would I be interested in Thomas?” Robbie snapped at him. “I’m not a masochist.”

  Scotty looked at Madison. “What Robbie is in a snit about is that she made a pass at my big brother last year, but he turned her down. Not enough brains for his taste.”

  “I’ll have you know that—” Robbie began, but Scotty cut her off.

  “My brother got the brains, but I got the looks,” he said, then nudged Roger in the ribs. “But looks like ol’ Roge and I have gets us through, doesn’t it? The two of us barely made it through college. If it hadn’t been for the girl Roger was—” At that Scotty broke off at a look from his mother. “Anyway,” Scotty said, “she did all our homework for