“Will you at least think about it? Tape yourself singing, and you’ll hear how good you are. Please.”
Darcy shook her head. “All right, I’ll think about it.”
“Do it in the shower with your clothes on without turning on the water. Bathrooms have good acoustics.”
“Yes, well, that’s weird.”
“Come on, who will see you?” Beth shouldered her crocheted Mexican shoulder bag and slipped out the side door.
Darcy bent to tighten her sandal. When she rose, she saw Susan Brueckner hesitantly entering the church through the front doors. An aura of sadness enveloped her. Darcy was perplexed. Should she say a breezy hello and wave as she left? Or should she creep out the side door so Susan didn’t know Darcy had seen her? Susan’s eyes were downcast. Sometimes people needed to be in church privately, alone. Darcy opted for slithering out the side door, taking care to close it quietly.
These long summer evenings were so dreamy, perfumed with salt air and roses, the sky so high and luminous it made Darcy feel something close to joy. She strolled home, humming “Skylark,” and as she passed, she overheard bits of conversation from open windows in the houses and from the yards. Laughter. Children playing. She didn’t want to go inside, she wanted to linger in this pale blue-gray light forever. She entered her house, tossed her keys in their bowl on the front hall table, stopped in the kitchen for a fresh peach and a napkin, and drifted out into her backyard. She settled on her lounger and stretched like a cat. It was so peaceful, the air around her dusky, a streak of high sky still blue.
No sounds came from Mimi’s yard. Something was making a rhythmic knocking noise in Susan’s backyard.
“No, no, no,” a man said gruffly. It had to be Otto, the father, talking to his sons. “Do not kick the ball against the house.”
“But, Dad…” a boy whined.
“You will damage the house. Your mother took you to the beach today. You are tired. Play quietly.”
Darcy took a bite of peach, chuckling to herself. Otto told his three little boys to play quietly? She bet herself that by the count of ten, the boys would be yelling and kicking the ball against the house again. After all, they were boys. Anyway, how could a ball hurt a house?
By the count of seven, she heard shrieking. The boys were chasing each other around the small yard—most houses in town had small backyards.
“Boys!” Otto yelled.
“Excuse me,” a woman said in angelic tones. “Maybe your boys would like to play in our yard. We found a badminton set and a small round trampoline sort of thing in the shed. Our daughter is a teenager, so she doesn’t use them, but your boys are welcome to come over.”
Boyz and Autumn’s yard extended in a kind of grassy dogleg a few feet behind Susan’s yard. Darcy closed her eyes; she could envision exactly where they were.
“That is very kind of you,” Otto said. “Boys?”
The three boys sounded like a mob of barbarians crashing the gates as they ran, yelling, into Autumn’s yard. Darcy ate her peach, happy in the knowledge that, because of her thick spruce hedges, no one could see her with peach juice running down her chin. She couldn’t see them, either, but she couldn’t help hearing them, and their sounds made her smile. The two older boys seemed to play a netless, rule-free game of badminton. The third son chose the trampoline, each jump accompanied by screams of delight.
“I’m Autumn Szweda.”
“I am Otto Brueckner. I’m very pleased to meet you. My wife, Susan, has gone for a walk, and I confess I am not naturally inclined toward organizing children.”
“I understand completely.” Autumn’s voice slid into a silky-smooth pitch. Ah, Darcy thought, so even though he sounded like a stick, Otto must be attractive. “My husband and I have only one child, and she can be so exhausting. I’m sure that’s partly why my husband returns to the city so often.” Otto must be extremely attractive.
“What does your husband do?”
“He’s in real estate in Boston.”
“Ah. I work in Boston, too.”
“What do you do?”
“I’m a lawyer for the Mandel Corporation.”
“That sounds much more exciting than Boyz’s job.”
It does? Which meant, Darcy thought, that Autumn was hinting that Otto was much more exciting than Boyz. Darcy wanted to peek through the thick needles of the hedge to see their expressions.
“Not exciting at all. Mostly reading contracts.”
“Oh, but that means you can do some of your work on Nantucket, right?”
A laugh. “If I can ever get the peace and quiet to concentrate.”