Page 38 of Songs of Summer
“The ball field, Renee’s house, our old house, where that author Ben lives now, and our new house! Voilà!”
“Amazing!”
She hugged him again at the front door. “I’m so happy you’re here. I’m not going to let anything, or anyone, ruin it.”
“Hola!” Bea cried out as they walked into the house. They found Shep in the kitchen, eating leftovers out of the fridge.
“Ahhh, reinforcements.” He closed the refrigerator door and hugged his son-in-law. “Am I glad to see you!” he added, meaning it.
“That seems like the general consensus.”
Bea put the pickled herring in the fridge and began slicing the bagels.
“Do you want this now, Daddy?”
“I would love it, thanks, honey.”
“I’m guessing you’re regretting your little forced reunion about now?” Paul whispered to Shep.
“It will work out,” Shep assured him.
With that, Veronica made a grand entrance into the kitchen, nowjustin her bikini. Bea reacted with a monumental eye roll.
“You must be Paul,” V cooed, pulling him in for a hug. “You’re taller than your pictures.”
As had always been her style, Veronica hugged him with her breasts first. It infuriated Bea or, as her students would say, triggered her.
“He won’t fuck you, Veronica,” she snarled in her sister’s ear before making an equally grand exit.
Track 20
La Mer
Paul
Paul sat ona beach chair, staring out at the ocean, and wondering if the wife he knew and loved was still inside the f-word-wielding meanie he had witnessed back at the house. Except for the time she’d cut her finger chopping onions, he had never heard her curse like that. Not because she was a prude, but because of her infinite respect for the English language.
With two of his own, Paul was no stranger to sister troubles, though he had always tried his best to steer clear of them. He was still scarred, quite literally, from trying to breakhisolder sisters apart during an epic spat over a pair of Jordache jeans in 1989. Even with that, the feud between his wife and Veronica was unlike anything he had ever witnessed between his own siblings.
Bea casually plopped down in a chair next to him while quoting Henry James.
“ ‘Summer afternoon—summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language.’ ”
“So, you’re OK now?” he asked, hiding a smirk that he knew might set her off again.
“Yes, why?”
“Well, for one thing, I’ve never known you to have such a strong eye roll game. You could compete with the freshmen in my geometric analysis seminar when I assign weekend homework.”
“I’m fine. Good, even.”
He thought to ask her what happened to being nice, but decided to leave good and fine alone.
“OK then,” Paul remarked instead, picking up the science section of theTimesand folding it to one-fourth of its size to read on the windy beach. He had a feeling he wouldn’t get through a single article. This trip, which had been billed as a relaxing fun time, was not looking promising.
“Want to hear the schedule?” Bea asked.
“Sure, bring it on.”
