Chapter 6
Eugenia drove herself to the marina in Montauk the next day, and waited on the dock
for the speedboat from My Dream to pick her up. She had told Patrick she would
be there at nine and she was five minutes early. He was excited about spending the day
with her, and having her stay for dinner at the end of it. It felt like a vacation to Eugenia.
She didn’t have to take care of anyone, plan a meal, worry about anything, or be
responsible. She and Patrick had a whole day to talk and relax, sail and swim, and get
to know each other.
She got into the speedboat, and as they motored toward the yacht, she looked up, and
saw that Patrick was waiting for her on deck, standing at the rail.
She had worn white jeans, a plain white T-shirt, and sneakers, with her hair in a
ponytail down her back and very little makeup. She liked a clean, simple look, which
was her style, unfussy, unpretentious, without distractions. He met her on the lower deck
and gave her a hug.
“Thank you for coming. I know you must have your hands full with your kids. Thank
you for spending the day with me.”
“It’s a treat for me.” She smiled at him. “Like a day off.” Over coffee and pastries at
the outdoor dining table, she told him about the mishap with Tucker the day before, and
about her feelings about Geoff, and the mystery visit on Monday from the woman who
she was sure was Austin Wylie’s wife.
“Wow, if you’re right, that’s ballsy of her. What are you going to do? Tell your
daughter?”
“I’ve been agonizing over it. Whoever the woman was, he spent the day with her and
didn’t tell Gloria, and then lied about it and paid off the help to keep their mouths shut.
That’s a hell of a way to start a marriage. She at least has a right to know. And I have to
be the one to tell her. It’s up to her after that. But I hate to see her make a mistake. We’ve
seen the movie, and we know how those stories end,” Eugenia said with a sigh.
“Whatever she decides, she won’t thank me for telling her.”
“Being the parent of adults is so much more complicated than people realize. I
always thought that when they graduated from college, or by thirty at the outside, they’d
be on their way and our job was over, and we could just enjoy them when we see them.
But it’s actually harder than when they’re kids. Now the stakes are higher and the
consequences can be disastrous if they take the wrong job or marry the wrong woman. I
have one son, as you know, and he keeps me awake at night at thirty-five. I can’t even
imagine what it must be like with five, and situations like you just described with your
daughter’s fiancé. You have to tell her, but she may hate you for a while.
“My son fell in love with a girl when he was a senior in college,” Patrick said
quietly. “He was so innocent. She had the face of an angel, from a very religious,
wholesome background. She was twenty-seven, and such a sweet girl. She said a few
things that didn’t add up, and I felt terrible and had her investigated. She’d been married
twice and had a child out of wedlock that was living with her grandmother in Salt Lake.
She told us her grandmother was dead, and never mentioned the boy, of course. She’d
had him at fifteen. She was kicked out of college for cheating and had been arrested
several times after that for dealing drugs. I had a hell of a time telling Quinn how I knew
and why I checked her out. I just had some weird instinct that made me do it, and I hated
being right. She disappeared the next day, after he talked to her about it, and he never
heard from her again. I think she was a sociopath. I’m grateful he didn’t marry her. He
wanted to, and probably would have. But he’s never gotten seriously attached to any
woman since, and now I’m worried about that. He works hard, and he plays hard too,
just as I did at his age, but I don’t think he’s ever opened his heart to any woman again.
And how long can you do that?”
“Some people do it forever,” she said gently, but she understood what he was
saying. “I worried about the woman my son married. She’s a little older too, and from a
completely different world from ours, but I’m actually starting to like her, and I can see
what he sees in her. She’s solid and smart, and works as hard as he does. She has a
weird family who make me cringe, but I think she’s good for him, and it doesn’t matter
that she dresses like a chorus girl from Vegas. I worry about my daughter Eloise
working too hard, having no life except her career, and being alone. I’m very worried
about the guy my daughter Gloria is marrying in three weeks, and shouldn’t. The only
two I don’t worry about are Daphne, whom you know, who has a dream life with
Phillip, and my youngest daughter, Sofia, who has her head on her shoulders, loves her
job, and is a midwife in Appalachia.”
“I really like her guy too, he seems solid as a rock, and they seem good together.”
Eugenia nodded agreement. “I worry like crazy about the others, and there isn’t a
damn thing I can do about it. They have to make their own mistakes, but it’s hard to
watch. Now I know how my parents felt when I married at almost twenty-two, to a man
I’d met in Italy and scarcely knew. He’d never had a real job in his life, and was fortyfive years old,
living hand-to-mouth from commissions he made putting people and
deals together. He was all dazzle and no substance, and my parents were
ultraconservative, solid, traditional people, and they were horrified. And then I had five
babies in five years because he liked the idea of that but not the reality, and he later
walked off with a fortune and nearly all my savings when we divorced. My parents
were right, but who listens to their parents? No one I know.” She smiled at him and he
nodded.
“I didn’t listen to mine either. My grandfather made a fortune from a small
inheritance, making careful investments. My father used what his father had made to buy
real estate, and he turned it into a very sizable fortune. I took it another step further with
some very high-risk investments that paid off. It was all based on hard work and good
solid judgment, and in my case taking chances other people were afraid of, but they
worked for me. My father was married to the same woman for fifty-two years and they
died within months of each other. When I married Quinn’s mother because she was
pregnant, they were heartbroken at how foolish I’d been, and devastated when I got
divorced. They were staunch Catholics. My father was horrified by every investment I
made, and every building I bought, and the risks I took. He said it would all come
tumbling down one day, and he wasn’t wrong. But if it does now, I know I’ll make it
back again, by the same hard work and smart investments. Quinn is more conservative
than I am, and he’s done well, but what is any of that worth if you don’t have a partner
you love to share the joy and hard times, and don’t have a family? I forgot to pay
attention to that, and went out with women I didn’t care about, and rarely loved. And
when I did love them, I ran like hell so I wouldn’t get tied down. That’s what I see my
son doing now. And the toys are great,” he said, waving at the mega yacht around them,
“but what my parents had was better. That’s where you did things right, Eugenia. You
managed to have the family and the business.”
“That doesn’t keep me from being in hot water now,” she reminded him, “and my exhusband was a joke. He was basically a charming professional gigolo. I can’t say that to
my kids. So I got the kids right, and the business, but I blew it on the man I chose to
share it with. I’m beginning to think you can’t have it all. I always thought I could.”
“You’ll choose more wisely next time,” he said with a smile. “You’re grown up
now. You can’t expect to pick the right partner at twenty-one. You don’t even know who
you are then. My parents got it right, but they lived in a different world. They didn’t
have the choices or the exposure or the temptations we do to make a mistake. They came
from the same background, same small town in Illinois, and met when they were twelve,
and grew up together. I think that’s why so many people go back to their childhood
sweethearts when they marry for a second time later in life. It’s hard to know who
people are in the world we live in today. And a lot of them are fakes and frauds and
practiced liars, sociopaths like Quinn’s college girlfriend. There are a lot of sharks in
the waters we live in. I meet them every day and I’m sure you do too. All you can do is
stay true to yourself, be who you really are, be honest and keep your eyes open. I think
in the long run, it pays off. You can make honest mistakes, but I correct them a lot faster
than I did when I was young. But what I don’t like about what my son is doing is that he
keeps everyone at a distance. He doesn’t let anyone in and he doesn’t trust anyone, ever
since that girl when he was twenty-two. That’s a sad way to live.” His worry for his son
was in his eyes and Eugenia could see it, and sympathized.
“Maybe one of these days, the right woman will show up, and come over his walls
and get through to him. I don’t believe he’ll stay alone forever.”
“I hope he doesn’t. It’s not a life. I hope he has kids, and more than just one, like you
did. It was brave of you, and smart.” Interestingly, Eugenia and Patrick were both only
children.
“It wasn’t planned,” she admitted humbly. “I just followed my husband blindly and
believed what he said. It turned out he was lying. But I’m happy I have the kids, no
matter how much I worry about them.”
“Well, today is your day off,” he reminded her. “This is our day. What would you
like to do first? Swim? A massage? Lie in the sun and do nothing? Take the little
sailboat out? Name your pleasure.”
“Being with you,” she said shyly. “I love talking to you.” Patrick was so smart, so
kind, and so open with her. He felt more comfortable with her than he had with any
woman in years. He hadn’t expected to feel that way about her, when Daphne said she
wanted to introduce him to her mother. He was just being polite when he agreed. “What
about lying in the sun, and figuring the rest out later?” she said, and he liked the idea. He
didn’t have to impress her with toys and activities.
“That sounds perfect.” And she followed him up to the sundeck. There were sunbeds
all around them, and they looked inviting. “You can change in one of the guest cabins if
you like,” he offered, and she laughed.
“I came prepared.” She took off her T-shirt and jeans, and was wearing a powder
pink bikini under her clothes. She lay down on a towel he spread out for her. He had
swimming trunks on under his shorts, which he took off with his pale blue T-shirt before
lying down next to her. He had a well-toned, athletic body, as a result of many trainers
and coaches that he hired to stay in shape. He played tennis and squash twice a week,
and swam every day. Eugenia wasn’t as athletic, but she was long and lean with
beautiful skin. He touched her arm gently and noticed how soft it was.
They chatted on and off in the morning sun and then they both dozed. She offered to
put his sunblock on for him, and he noticed how gentle her hands were and how light her
touch, and he put some on her back. They were lying close together, and he was holding
her hand when they fell asleep. They felt as though they had known each other forever,
after what they had shared in a short time. She liked knowing about his family and his
youth, and he was intrigued by what he knew of her. He couldn’t imagine her with a man
like Umberto. She was so totally without artifice or pretense, and her ex-husband
sounded like a shallow fraud to him. She deserved better than the life she had led with
him, his venal motives, and leaving her to bring up their children alone. But Patrick was
impressed that she had done a good job, having met them. He wished that his son had
come home with a girl like one of her daughters, but he hadn’t even come close. He was
currently dating a young actress in L.A., who was spectacularly beautiful, but had just
gotten out of rehab for a coke habit, and had a previous boyfriend she was still involved
with. It sounded like a mess to Patrick because it was, like all of Quinn’s romances.
There was always a hitch somewhere, a trick, a trap door waiting to open, an excuse not
to get serious, or a backstairs escape for him. Quinn was getting too old for that, at
thirty-five. Patrick wondered when he’d wake up, or if marriage and children weren’t
among his goals. His successful startup of the moment was.
Patrick and Eugenia woke up at the same time, rolled onto their sides, facing each
other, and smiled.
“This is heaven,” she said in a sensual soft voice as she woke up.
“It’s My Dream,” he said, and smiled. “I’ve had boats before, but never one as
wonderful as this. It took them four years to build and was worth the wait. If I sell
everything, this will be the last to go. I could live on it. I like it better than any of my
homes. I can just pick up and go whenever I want to. I have a little sailboat I take out by
myself when I need to think or just relax.”
“Should we give it a try, or is it a one-man boat?”
“Are you a sailor?” He looked surprised. She was so elegant and sophisticated, he
couldn’t imagine her in a tiny boat.
“I went to sailing camp in Maine when I was a kid. My father was an avid sailor, so
he made me learn how to sail, since he didn’t have a son.” She smiled at him. “I haven’t
been in a little boat since then. It sounds like fun.”
“I’ll tell them to get it out after lunch,” he said happily. It was noon by then, and he
had ordered lunch to be served at twelve-thirty.
They went for a swim in the pool before lunch, and then showered and put on dry
bathing suits, and the chef had put out salads, cold meats, and lobster. It was a delicious
meal, and they talked all through lunch, making each other laugh at stories from their
youth and early work years. After lunch, they went down to the lowest deck with the
huge yawning opening, big enough for his toys to be moved in and out, and the little
sailboat was waiting for them in the water.
It was as small as he had said, a beautiful little wooden boat, and he handed her in,
and made her put on a life vest. He knew the crew would be keeping an eye on them
from the distance to make sure they didn’t run into trouble or capsize, and she was
surprised to find that she still remembered the basic principles of sailing a boat that
size. She made a few mistakes and he corrected them. It was a glorious afternoon, with
just enough wind to fill their sails, and he guided the little sailboat expertly a fair
distance from the yacht.
“You’re actually a pretty good sailor,” he said, surprised.
“Thank you, at least I haven’t capsized us yet,” she said with a grin.
“I’ve done that a few times myself. I’m a lucky man. I have a golden life and I never
forget it, and these are the best moments, sharing simple pleasures with people you care
about. I never lose sight of that,” he said, and she nodded.
“Neither do I, although lately I’ve been afraid I’ll lose everything I’ve built,” she
admitted softly.
“If you do, you’ll build it again, or something else,” he said, and he believed it. She
told him about Eloise’s idea, Cotton Candy. “That’s pure genius, and the best way to
reinvent yourself. It sounds like fun.”
“I think it could actually work,” she said, excited about it, as they sailed back to the
yacht. They both hated to leave the sailboat, and when they did, he guided her to the spa
on the lower deck. “Do you hate massages?”
“No, I love them, but I never have time.”
“Today is your day off, remember? I have the best masseuse on the East Coast.
Would you like to try her?” He had thought of every possible way to pamper her and
spoil her and make it a magical day.
“That sounds amazing.” He left her in the healing hands of the masseuse for an hour
and came back to get her. She looked dazed, and said she had never felt so relaxed, and
then she turned to him with a question. She felt like a child at Christmas, and he was
Santa Claus. “Can we swim off the boat before dinner? I love swimming in the sea,” she
said.
“I didn’t want to suggest it, it makes some people uncomfortable. I do it every day
when I’m on the boat, twice a day.” They dove in together, and swam a good distance. It
woke Eugenia up after the massage. It was the perfect ending to a perfect day and
invigorated them. She was a strong swimmer, and she was barely out of breath when
they got back to the boat. He had stayed close to her in case she got tired, but she was an
even match for him. They climbed back up the ladder onto the boat, and he took her to a
guestroom to dry off and change back into her clothes. She had brought a light silver
sweater she had bought in Italy years before, and was wearing silver sandals with her
jeans. Patrick was wearing white jeans and a white polo shirt with the logo of the boat
when he came back to get her.
They drank champagne on the deck and watched the sunset, and the chef had
prepared another buffet of seafood. They ate a hearty meal, and there was soft music in
the background. It felt slightly like a seduction scene, but with him it wasn’t. He was so
natural and normal with Eugenia that it felt like they were best friends rather than
lovers, which was more comfortable for her. Patrick was sharing his world with her,
not trying to seduce her or take advantage of her. She liked this better. He wanted her to
spend the night, but he knew better than to suggest it to her, he knew she wouldn’t have
stayed. They were building something that was even better and he wanted it to last, and
to savor it. He hoped they would remember these days someday.
“I think today was one of the best days of my life,” Eugenia said to him, as he poured
her a last glass of champagne. The crew had served them efficiently, but not hovered, so
they had privacy and could talk freely, which they had all day, interspersed with
comfortable silences.
“The first of many days like this, I hope,” he said to her. “I’ve had a wonderful time
too.” She had turned off her phone that morning, since she had said she would be in
meetings all day. She hoped that her children had managed to survive without a crisis.
She had been gone and out of touch for thirteen hours by then. It was ten o’clock, and
she and Patrick had packed a lot into their day alone. Swimming and sailing, sunbathing,
delicious meals, and even a massage, and the pleasure of his company. And Patrick felt
the same way about her. He felt as though he had found a rare pearl and he didn’t want
to lose it. He treated her with caution, admiration, and respect, more than any man she’d
met, and she appreciated him and all his confidence. They already trusted each other.
“Patrick, I can’t begin to reciprocate for a day like this. I feel like I’ve had a month’s
vacation. But would you like to have dinner with me and the children on Friday night?
Everyone is leaving on Sunday, and I’m going back to the city. We’ll be back in the
Hamptons again the week of the wedding, which is on the last weekend in August, the
week before Labor Day. But everyone is more relaxed now than they will be the
weekend of the wedding. If it goes forward, that will probably be insanely busy.”
“Do you think it won’t go forward?” he asked her.
“It depends how my daughter reacts to her fiancé’s mystery guest two days ago and if
she noticed him flirting with the nanny yesterday. She may marry him anyway, although I
have to admit, I hope she won’t.”
“I hope not too,” he confided to her. “As you said, we’ve seen the movie, and we
know how it ends. I don’t think her odds are great for a storybook ending, given what
you’ve said. And who knows what you don’t know, and weren’t around to observe? It
sounds like she has her head in the sand about him.”
“I think so,” Eugenia agreed.
“If she were my daughter, I wouldn’t want her to marry a guy like him.”
“Her father doesn’t care. She’ll have a title. That’s all he cares about. And he hardly
sees the children, once or twice a year. She thinks her father walks on water. I don’t try
to disabuse her. She’s entitled to her illusions.”
“You have a tough role with them, with all the responsibility on your shoulders,” he
said to her, thinking about it. “At least my son has a mother. We didn’t get along, but she
adores him. Being the only parent is a hell of a hard job. I can see that now,” and he
admired her all the more for it. She was father and mother to her children and had been
for years, which sounded like a thankless job. “When can we do this again?” he asked
her.
“Whenever you like, and have time to put up with me for a whole day. Thank you for
a magnificent day. You must have a lot to do right now.” Eugenia knew what that was
like, and expected to find fifty or a hundred work emails on her computer when she
went home that night. Patrick’s empire was bigger, and she suspected he would have
even more.
“This was a joy for me too,” he said, comfortable with her.
“Will you come to dinner on Friday?” she asked him.
“With pleasure.”
“Come for drinks at seven-thirty, dinner after. Casual, jeans are fine.”
“Can I bring anything?”
“Just you. And body armor, in case they get out of hand,” she said, and he laughed.
“I’ll enjoy seeing them again,” he said, and after a few more minutes, they got up
from the table. The crew had left the area by then, and would return to clean up when
they left. Patrick looked down at her standing in front of him, and carefully pulled her
toward him, into his arms, and ever so gently he kissed her on the lips, softly at first and
then harder, wanting more of her, but willing to wait as long as he had to. “I love being
with you,” he whispered, and touched her face with a single finger, drawing her
features, and then he kissed her again. “Thank you for today.”
“Thank you for today,” she said, hating to leave his magic kingdom where anything
seemed possible, even dreams. They walked slowly toward the stairs and made their
way down several decks and he stopped her and kissed her again. Eugenia loved the
feel of his lips on hers and how he kissed her. She had forgotten how sensual kisses
could be, and she loved the strength of his arms around her. She felt small and safe
within them, which was a long-forgotten feeling.
Patrick walked her to where the motorboat was waiting for her, and the crew helped
her in, as he watched and waved as they pulled away. She sat looking up at the boat
where she had just spent an extraordinary day, and she saw him appear on the deck
outside his suite. He waved at her and she waved back. They were staying at anchor
outside the port, and the deckhands helped her out of the motorboat that had brought her
back to earth. She felt like she had fallen from a cloud, or like Cinderella after the ball.
She walked to where she had parked the car and drove back to the rented house. It
was eleven o’clock, and the main house and cottages were all dark and quiet when she
got there. They had all gone to sleep early. No one was waiting for her to report a
disaster. They hadn’t killed each other, the house hadn’t burned down. She turned her
phone on and there were no messages, except one from her dentist to remind her of a
cleaning appointment the following week. All was well in her tiny universe, compared
to Patrick’s much bigger one.
She slipped into bed a few minutes later, thinking about him, and the day they had
spent together. She knew now about his son, his parents, their marriage, and his own.
She had seen him in his rarefied world. She knew about his business problems and he
knew about hers. They were aware of each other’s successes and failures due to the
pandemic, and he made her less fearful about her own. It seemed like a perfect
beginning, and even if she never saw him again, she would remember it forever as one
totally perfect day, and Patrick as the man who had given it to her.
