Jess and Adam emerged from their room as Clara was preparing breakfast. Jess didn’t look great. “Sometimes it’s like the more you sleep, the worse you feel,” she said. “My circadian rhythms are a mess.”
“And that’s some bed,” said Adam, waving his phone in the air, trying to get a signal. The mattresses were ancient and had probably been bargain-basement items back in the Dark Ages. The bed in Clara and Nick’s room felt like a sack of lawn implements, but if a person was that tired, would it matter?
“Bella’s probably already been up for hours,” Jess commented, glancing at the clock. Adam was still trying to get his phone to work. Nick was lying on the couch, reading a newspaper that was several days old. Clara could tell that neither Adam nor Jess was going to be able to handle being so out of touch; she expected Adam at some point would climb a tree or a hill or else jump in the car and head into town to get a signal.
This was exactly what he did right after lunch, taking Nick along with him, because Nick also found the days at the cabin were long, though Clara wouldn’t permit him to say so.
“So how does it feel?” Clara asked Jess once they were alone. “The getaway. Any sexual healing yet?”
“I wouldn’t say so. We fell asleep as soon as we hit the bed.”
“With the uncomfortable mattress.”
“I didn’t say it was agoodsleep,” said Jess. “But we were sleeping. And he’s worried about being away from Bella, I know he is. Anxiety never brings out his best side.” She paused. “I can’t believe you last night, though. Running down the beach naked like that. Adam was horrified.”
“I could tell,” said Clara.
Jess laughed. “I knew you could.”
They were lying on the deck on old chaise longues, the kind with woven vinyl that leave checkers on the backs of your thighs. “Umbrella” was on the radio again, but maybe that was okay, because there weren’t enough songs about friendship.
“You’re thinking about the baby,” Clara said. She could tell by the way Jess was staring off at nothing with a furrowed brow.
“But I’m trying not to,” said Jess. “I’ve just never been this far apart from her before, and I keep thinking I hear her. I can literally feel her weight in my arms.” Jess wrapped her arms across her body as though she were hugging herself.
“Bella’s fine,” said Clara. “I promise. You’ve got to stop worrying. Just relax. This weekend is exactly what you need.”
—
Clara and Nick went swimming later in the afternoon, suits on this time. They paddled out to the neighbours’ raft, anancient structure covered with peeling paint and outdoor carpeting with mildewy bits. The neighbours never came up anymore; their kids were grown. Their raft was suddenly an island, a place to escape. Nick and Clara had become so used to solitude that it was too much now, having these people in their space with all their anxious vibes.
“It’s not so bad,” said Nick. “And it’s only till tomorrow.”
“Or maybe sooner,” said Clara. Adam had returned from town not feeling any more assured. His sister couldn’t get Bella down for her naps. Their whole routine was shot.
Clara looked over her shoulder, considering Adam and Jess, back on shore. They looked like they were napping on the deck—or at least pretending to nap. Adam was still holding onto his phone, waiting for a miracle. “I thought I wanted to get to know him better,” she said to Nick. “But now I wonder if I do.”
Nick said, “He’s not a bad guy.” Apparently, Adam had spent the entire journey outlining his new car’s safety features and the intricacies of car-seat installation. Nick was right: he wasn’t a bad guy; he was steady and steadfast, and at least he tried to balance Jess’s lack of chill. He’d definitely been on board about getting away for the weekend.
The sun was moving westward now, and Clara and Nick were drowsy, lying on their stomachs, heads resting on their arms. She looked away from the shore and admired her husband’s tanned skin, scattered with freckles, the silver hair on his shoulders and chest. She looked back at the shore and wondered at Jess and Adam. People were funny and wanted such different things.
“But you’re hard on people,” Nick said, running his finger along the trim of her bathing suit, across her thigh, towhere her legs came together. She rolled away from him. “What?” he asked. “You don’t want to?”
She said, “They’ll see.”
“They’re not watching,” he said.
“Here?”
“Why not? There’s nobody else around.” They could hear the distant sound of a motorboat, but it must be around the bay. There was nothing in their sight at all.
Nick moved closer, his chest against her back, and slipped his fingers under the elastic, inside her. “You can’t lie here half-naked, soaking wet, and expect me not to get ideas,” he said.
“No,” she admitted. Nick pulled her suit to one side and pushed his shorts down so he could slide inside her. His arms were tight around her, his body pushing against her back. She supposed from shore it looked like an innocent embrace, but she tried not to consider how it looked and instead be here and now, her eyes closed and her neck arched. The carpet beneath her hip was scratchy, but that was the only problem. She clenched her muscles so he could feel tight inside her, and he moaned in her ear.
He said, “I love you, I do,” as he came and then she did. And then he started laughing. “I can’t believe we did that,” he said, fumbling to get his shorts back on properly. “Where anyone could have seen us.”
“I thought you said nobody was looking!”
