She says nothing as she continues to clean.
“You’re fascinating and baffling—but in the best kind of way. I think about you way more than I should.” I make my way to the dresser in the corner, grabbing a few things from drawers. “And I’d love to get to know you better. That’s what I think of you.”
She stands frozen, unmoving, her back still to me.
And then I return to the bathroom to get dressed. When I come out a few minutes later, she’s gone.
Chapter 12
Lila
I skipped cleaning his bathroom today.
I had to get out of there.
If Thayer standing there dripping wet, a towel around his hips, highlighting his rippled abs and chiseled Adonis belt weren’t enough, he then had to give me some mini speech on how special I am and how he wants to get to know me.
I’m sorry, but after what I saw last night, I’m not buying it.
But he’s good.
I’ll give him that.
He knows all the right words and has all the right moves and if I were a little more naïve, I’d fall for it in two seconds flat.
But I wasn’t born yesterday. And there happened to be an abundance of assholes just like him at my old high school in Santa Monica—guys used to getting everything they want because they were attractive, their parents had money, and they happened to be versed in the art of charming the opposite sex with a few lines.
I make my way to the master bedroom at the end of the hall and shut the door behind me. The room is floor-to-ceiling white wainscoting accented with dozens of windows covered in gauzy curtain panels that dance in the breeze. A king-sized bed with a seagrass headboard and a white, pick-stitched coverlet anchors the room. An antique walnut dresser covered in dozens of family photos is the only thing that personalizes this room and keeps it from looking like something straight off of Airbnb’s website.
I finish making the bed before heading to dust the dresser, which requires moving each and every one of the family photos so I can clean beneath them.
Stopping for a moment, I study a few of them. Not surprisingly, most of them are Thayer through the years.
Thayer in a Little League uniform holding a bat.
Thayer in blue striped swim trunks on a sandy beach.
Thayer posing with Mickey Mouse in front of Cinderella’s Castle at Disney World.
A braces-wearing Thayer posing with his parents, all of them dressed in Red Sox garb.
Thayer in a tuxedo, standing next to a stunning redhead in a lavender-sequined prom dress.
Thayer in a yellow cap and gown, holding his high school diploma.
A wedding photo of his parents rests in the middle of all of that. His mother, Tippi, reminds me of a modern-day Grace Kelly. Shoulder-length blonde hair that curls under. Fine features. Petite stature. His father, Mitchum, reminds me of a 1940s movie star, though I’m not sure which one. He’s definitely the kind of man who ages well from what I can tell from these pictures over the years. There’s something strong about him, something worldly, and yet there’s a youthfulness, a light in his eyes—much like his son’s.
I stop gawking and get back to work.
We can’t help the family we’re born into and I don’t resent him for having a picture-perfect childhood. Good for him. But it only goes to illustrate how truly opposite we really are.
My mother was a saint in a lot of ways, though she still had her imperfections. We all do. She was overprotective at times. Stubborn and unrelenting when it came to certain things. She cried at weddings and laughed at funerals (when appropriate, of course). She dated here and there but once things started getting serious, she’d always find a reason to break it off. I knew her better than anyone, and yet there were times when I questioned if I even knew her at all.
She loved with everything she had, but she kept her own heart guarded, padlocked really. It’s like she felt she was undeserving … and now I’ll never have a chance to ask her why.
I finish Tippi and Mitchum’s bedroom before heading to their en suite and starting with the giant white tub in the middle of the room, the one beneath an oversized capiz shell chandelier straight out of a Serena and Lily catalog.
When I’m done with the bathroom, I make my way down to the main level. I’m hardly finished with The Ainsworth. I still have the living room, dining room, family room, study, kitchen, hallway, and half bath to do.
That’s seven more opportunities to cross paths with Thayer.
If I’m lucky, he’s already gone.
Chapter 13
Thayer
I come out of the shed Tuesday afternoon, fishing rod in hand. I promised the twins and Ashlan I’d meet them at the cove for an afternoon of fishing—an old pastime of ours. Junie promised she’d cook whatever we caught today and told me to make sure we came back with enough for everyone, so we’re going to be here a while.