Page 36 of On Fire Island
At a diner in Tivoli, New York, she admitted, “Mom. When I ran back for my folder, Daddy was home.”
“OK,” her mother said, followed by, “I think I’m going to get the grapefruit. It sounds refreshing.”
When Renee relayed the story to me, years and years later, the two of us sitting on the beach before sunset with a glass of wine, she was visibly shaken. The words got caught in her throat, just as they had all those years before.
Renee took a deep breath and told her mom what she had seen.
“Mom, when I went back to the house, Daddy was in your bed with Judy Skylar.”
The server chose that moment to come take their orders.
“I’ll have the Grand Slam with pancakes and extra sausage,”her mother said, switching from the grapefruit without missing a beat.
She ate the whole thing in silence, then went to the bathroom and threw it all up. She never said another word about it until Renee’s dad came home from work, a few weeks later, and told them he was leaving. He packed his bags and moved out, which didn’t take long because he literally moved next door. In the end, he couldn’t keep up with the three houses, the two in Scarsdale and their summer place on Fire Island. They sold Renee’s childhood home and the beach house and moved to a walk-up apartment in town, where her mom got a job answering phones at a local insurance agency. Her mother was pretty stoic about the whole thing. In fact, Renee said that the only time she saw her cry was when she had to do her own hair.
Years later, her mother married the owner of that insurance company. He had asked her right in the office. She said yes and used the receptionist’s phone one last time—to resecure her standing appointment at the beauty salon.
Renee had missed the house on Fire Island more than she had missed her dad.
The divorce was tough on Renee. For one thing, she got into all the colleges she had applied to, but with her father’s income listed on her financial aid forms, she didn’t get the help she needed to attend. She called the schools and explained that he was no longer supporting her, but they all said there was nothing they could do at that late juncture. She ended up at a state school, where she did very well, and swore she would never depend on, or trust, a man again. And she didn’t, through law school and afterward, until she met Tuck Tucker. Dull, reliable Tuck Tucker, whose loyal and steady demeanor assured her she was unlikely ever to catch him dogging her neighbor.
I could see that Renee truly loved Tuck, though it surprised me. Even after she told me what had happened, I was careful not to speak too badly about him, in case she took him back. I kind of felt like she knew how everyone felt about him, anyway. They were always invited to the big parties that people threw every summer, but when we would attend smaller intimate get-togethers, it was rare for them to be included. People couldn’t tolerate being trapped in a small setting with Tuck Tucker. It was hard for me to get Ben to go out to eat with them, even though Renee was one of my closest friends.
“Consider it a character study,” I would tell Ben. In the end, it turned out to be more of a lack of character study.
Now Renee entered the kitchen with a joke.
“I really appreciate that you’re helping out, but can you empty that any louder?”
“I’m sorry. Were you sleeping?” Matty asked, with biting sarcasm.
Renee blushed, a skill she seemed to be perfecting lately, and reached out to help with the dishwasher. Avoiding eye contact.
“How long is this guy gonna be hanging around?” Matty asked.
“I don’t know. I haven’t really thought it through.”
It was probably the first time she had ever uttered that statement in her life. Poor Matty. It’s hard to see your mother and father as real people and not just your parents.
“Well, let me know when you figure it out, please—I’m going to work.”
“Wait, Matty.” She grabbed his arm, and he recoiled. Her eyes widened, and she blinked away tears.
“Want to take a bike ride tomorrow to Sunken Forest? Just the two of us?”
“Tomorrow’s Dylan’s birthday.”
He left without so much as a shrug goodbye.
Renee grabbed a mug, fumbled with a Keurig pod, and then went to the refrigerator for milk. On it, under a magnet that read,Fire Island, Blissfully Unaware, sat an old photo of the two of us. She pulled it off the fridge and took in the image. We were sitting on the dock of the bay watching the sunset. I was smiling at the camera, but she was looking at me. She spoke to the photo as if I were there.
“It’s not fair, Jules, why does Tuck get to live his life without judgment and I have to be the perfect mom?”
It wasn’t really true, as far as the judgment goes. It was quite clear that Matty had lost what little respect he had for his father and that Renee was just now treading into that territory. I wished I could tell her to communicate with him better. It wasn’t like her not to say what she was feeling. I wondered if she even knew herself.
She stared at the photo for a bit before the tears finally came.
“I don’t know what to do. I miss you so much. I never felt like this before. Not even when my marriage ended. It’s hard to breathe.” She sobbed, surprising herself with the power of her emotions. By the time the drummer found her, she was curled up in a ball all-out ugly crying.
