Milly couldn’t imagine what she could have told him, but she smiled anyway. “You have a beautiful home,” she said.
Walter was in his mid-forties, and Sylvia was at least ten years younger. He was tall and well-built with some wrinkles forming on his tanned face, but he was a handsome man, and it was easy to imagine what had drawn Sylvia to him. Sylvia reached for his hand, pulled him in. “There you are, darling,” she said, handing him his drink.
“Thanks, Lamb Chop,” he said, giving her an unabashed smooch before getting comfortable in his chair. “So, how are you two settling in on the island?”
“We’re having a ball,” Lloyd said, putting his arm around his wife. “Right, Milly?”
She almost laughed. He’d barely set foot on the island since they’d moved in, let alone been around long enough to have any kind of fun. He hadn’t taken even one day off to help unpack. He just went to work as usual and left her to make all the decisions on how the furniture should be arranged and which cupboard should house the plates and dishes and which should house the glasses. She’d rushed to unpack the children’s boxes so they had something to wear to their new schools and something to keep them occupied when they got home, but the rest sat untouched. It was a miracle she’d met any of her neighbors at all. In fact, she wouldn’t have met Sylvia if she hadn’t shown up on Milly’s doorstep to introduce herself the first day Milly had arrived, with a casserole and a bottle of wine in hand. The only good thing was that the house they’d bought was reasonably sized and somewhat manageable, unlike Sylvia’s, which was easily four times the size, pristine, and beautifully decorated, sitting on a double lot overlooking the bay.
Lloyd squeezed Milly’s shoulder, coaxing her to respond. “Oh, yes,” she said, nodding. “We came here on our honeymoon several years back. We just loved the calm bay beaches and the quaint cottages. Oh, and the main street is adorable with all the little shops.” Milly thought backon that time and tried to remember if they’d been happy then, just days after their wedding, but she couldn’t recall; it all felt like a blur.
“It’s really something, isn’t it?” Walter said, proudly.
Milly smiled. “It’s like being on vacation every day.”
The truth was, she was miserable.
She had no idea what her husband was up to in Hollywood, and trying to set up a new home and a new life on the island without him was overwhelming. It made it hard for her to even catch her breath, let alone enjoy anything that her new hometown had to offer.
At night she lay in bed, dog-tired from all the cooking and cleaning and organizing and corralling the children into bed one at a time, then she’d stare at the ceiling, unable to fall into the sleep that her body desperately needed, instead making mental lists of all the things she still needed to do. It had occurred to her around four that morning that her fretful focus on what to do next—which box to put where, who to call to fix the hallway light switch—it was all irrelevant if her husband never came home. There was no handyman to call to fix a broken marriage.
“Well, you’ve made friends with the right gal,” Walter said. “Sylvia knows everyone around here; she can introduce you.” He swigged the last of his cocktail and gave the ice cubes a shake. Sylvia stood to fill his glass.
“It’s true, I do know a lot of people,” she said, flashing a grin. “I can tell you anything you could possibly want to know about anyone on this island… and plenty that you’d rather forget.”
Milly laughed.
“How did you two end up on the island?” Lloyd asked.
“Walter’s family was one of the first to buy property here, and I was Miss Balboa in 1938,” Sylvia said proudly.
“Miss Balboa?” Milly asked.
“I won the Balboa Bathing Beauty Contest—and guess who was judging.” Sylvia nodded to her husband.
Walter shook his head, “I wasn’t the only judge. Everyone agreed you were the hottest barbecue in town, and I didn’t need any convincing.”
Sylvia smiled. “Walter’s family has been putting on the Bathing Beauty Contest since it started back in the twenties; it’s an island tradition,” she said.
“That must have been fun!” Milly said, trying not to let her mind wander to the glamour girls Lloyd mingled with on set day in and day out. But she couldn’t help herself. There was one actress, Beverly Douglas, from that daytime showThe Light Within, which Lloyd had been working on recently, whom he seemed particularly enamored with. She was a gorgeous, slim brunette who, he’d told Milly many times, was a sensation and very demanding of his time. Everyone loved her. Was it Beverly who was luring him away? So clichéd, she thought—a beautiful actress ensnarling a television executive in a tryst to get ahead. Milly forced herself to come back to the conversation.
“I tried modeling after that, but I made a terrible mess of it!” Sylvia laughed. “They said I couldn’t stop running my mouth long enough for them to get a decent picture. I found all the posing and primping so dull. I like people, I like chatting. I don’t like sitting still, what can I say?”
“She was a stunner,” Walter said. “Still is. And I like hearing what you have to say.”
Lloyd and Walter got along famously at the dinner table. Afterward, Walter offered Lloyd a cigar. “Do you play tennis, Lloyd?”
“I used to, a little, but not much.”
“I just opened up a new tennis club last year, The Island Club. It’s just across the bridge.” He nodded to Milly. “There’s swimming too for the ladies and children.”
Sylvia smiled and rolled her eyes, leaning in toward Milly. “He’s just trying to get you to join,” she said and laughed, putting her hand on Milly’s arm. “But I must say it’s quite a fun way to meet people. I’m happy to give you the grand tour.”
“There are two yacht clubs in the area if boating is your thing,” Walter went on, “One’s right next door to ours, but I thought we men needed a club where we can knock a ball around, you know, take our frustrations out on the court.”
“I happen to take tennis lessons there too,” Sylvia chimed in.
“Yes,” Walter said. “But you only go in the morning when no one else will see you.”
