Page 68 of On Fire Island

That afternoon, Bea helped get Shep set up back home, before cooking a big paella dinner over at their house. She used Caroline’s recipe, and it tasted like a memory to anyone who’d had it before. Besides Ben, a bunch of her old friends came, Little Les and Darcy, Eddie, Rico, Steve from the hardware store, Pam and Andie, and Renee and the drummer—who, I hate to say, was wearing shoes. And not just flip-flops—the guy was wearing high-tops, fully laced. He seemed to always be touching Renee, his hand on the small of her back or a finger gently twirling her hair. They were definitely in that stage where you can’t keep your hands off each other, or at least he was, which must have felt so good for Renee—to be wanted like that after what had happened with Tuck.

I watched Ben mix his own drink at the bar cart. He used to make quite an effort fixing a cocktail—even fancied himself an amateur mixologist—always whipping up something new for me to try. Lately, he barely bothered retrieving an ice cube. Now as he mixed bourbon, triple sec, and even some simple syrup and a lime, I smiled. It was a step in the right direction. I could tell that people weren’t treating him quite as tentatively as they had been, and Iconsidered that a good thing too. I’m sure he did, as well. Two months is a long time to be under a microscope.

Everyone helped with the dishes until Shep kicked them out to get some sleep before the big game. Ben went home and grabbed Sally for a walk on the beach. She found a stray tennis ball and nudged at him till he gave in. He sat on the bottom stair, tossing it, hoping a good game of fetch would tire her out.

“You gonna be OK tonight, Ben, all alone in that big bed?” Bea called out from the top step.

I hoped her question came from a place of caring and not a yearning to let down her hair, slip from her dress, and stand naked and timorous like Fanca Sigal in the loving gaze of Jack Koslowsky in the Sicilian moonlight.

“I’ll manage.” Ben laughed.

Truth was, Shep had already instructed him to sleep in the middle and put pillows next to him on either side to curb the loneliness. Bea came down the steps and stood on the beach, feeling its cold surface beneath her bare feet and digging in. I could tell it felt good. She was a real Fire Island girl, happiest with sand between her toes.

“Thank you for taking care of my dad.”

“That paella was thanks enough. Much better than Shep’s Frank and Bean Surprise.”

“And you slept in a bed with him, so you know what the surprise is!”

They both laughed, until Bea got serious.

“Seriously though. It meant a lot to us, knowing he wasn’t alone.”

I wondered who “us” was. I imagined it was her and her sister, which made me wonder if there was still something left of their bond, for Bea to include her in the thank-you like that.

“He honestly has been taking care of me. Though I’ve eaten enough hot dog surprise to last a lifetime. Have you always been such a good cook?”

“When you live in a small college town with few decent restaurants, you have little choice. Plus, I love making my mom’s recipes. Makes me feel like she’s still here.”

“It really was delicious.”

“I wanted to make something special. Too bad Matty couldn’t make it.”

“He has to hang out with people his own age once in a while—it’s been a tough summer for him.”

“Renee taking up with that drummer—who would have thunk?”

“I forgot you two know each other.”

“Yes, we go way back, though we lost touch when her folks got divorced and sold the house. I couldn’t believe it when she bought across from my parents.”

“Small world.”

“Small Fire Island world, for sure.”

Sally returned with the tennis ball and dropped it at Beatrix’s feet. Bea threw it and then took a seat next to Ben on the stairs.

“The stars are beautiful tonight,” she said.

Ben rested his elbows on the step behind him and looked up.

“They really are.” He took a beat. “I just began to notice them again.”

I was surprised he was being so open, but not unhappy about it. He’d been repressing so much, I worried he may suffocate. As much as watching him cry in my sweaters was painful, at least it was a release.

“I can’t even imagine what the past year was like for you, and for Julia. I mean, did you even have a chance to grieve the baby?”

“Not really. Julia’s illness rode right over that. It was like baptism by fire—we went right into saving Julia mode.”

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