Sophie wasn’t expecting us for dinner, but she quickly threw together a platter of bean sprouts and tofu. It’s hard to choose a wine for that.

Susan and I had a quiet, candlelit dinner on the patio. The sky had cleared and the stars were out, and a nice breeze blew in from the Sound.

Susan said, “This has been one of the best and one of the worst weeks of my life.”

I assured her, “It will only get better from here.”

“I think it will.”

Well, I didn’t. But what else was I going to say?

She said, “I’ll miss Edward and Carolyn being here.”

“And I’ll miss your parents being close by.”

“I won’t.” She switched to a happier subject and asked me, “What would you like for your Father’s Day breakfast?”

“I was thinking of leftover bean sprouts, but maybe I’ll have fried eggs and sausage.” I added, “Buttered toast, home-fried potatoes, coffee, and orange juice. Make that a screwdriver.”

“And would you like that served in bed?”

“Of course.”

“Edward and Carolyn said they were sorry they couldn’t be home for breakfast.”

“No problem.”

“They’ll be here in time for dinner.”

“Good.”

She suggested, “We should have a word with them about their grandparents.”

I didn’t reply.

“John?”

I poured myself another glass of wine and said to her, “I’m not getting involved with that. If you think they need another reminder about the financial facts of life, then you give it to them.” I reminded her, “I already kissed William and Charlotte’s asses. My job is done.”

“All right… I sense that you’re frustrated, and upset-”

“Not at all. I did what I had to do, and I’m done doing it. I will be more than cordial tomorrow at dinner, and I will speak to your father privately tomorrow night, or Monday morning – about you. But only because that’s what he wants. Though I can tell you, nothing is going to change his mind about this marriage, and I will not even try to change his mind. So, you, Susan, need to face some realities, and make some decisions.”

“I’ve already done that.”

“That’s what you think. Look, I came here with nothing, and I am prepared to leave here with nothing.”

“You’re not leaving here without me. Not again.”

“I won’t hold you to that.”

She took my hand and said, “Look at me.”

I looked at her in the candlelight, with the breeze blowing through her hair, and she never looked more beautiful.

She said, slowly and deliberately, “I understand what you’re saying and why you’re saying it. But you can forget it. You’re not getting away so easily this time. Even if you think you’re doing it for me and for our children.”

I looked into her eyes, and I could see they were getting misty. I said, “I love you.”

“And I love you.”

She said to me, “I’m tired of them controlling me with their money. So if I lose the money, and I lose them, then I’m free.”

“I understand.” I asked, “And the children?”

“He won’t do that – my mother would not let him do that.”

Wanna bet? I said, “Okay. That’s good. Then it’s settled.” I said to her, “I almost didn’t come in for the funeral.”

She replied, “I knew you were coming in, even if you didn’t.” She pointed to the sky and said, “This was in our stars, John. This is the way it was meant to happen.”

Oddly enough, I felt the same thing, as all lovers do. But the question now was, What did the stars have in store for us next?

CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

Susan served me breakfast in bed, though I think Sophie cooked it – which was much better than the other way around.

It was a beautiful June day, and sunlight shone on my tray of sizzling fat. I hardly knew where to begin.

Susan, in her nightie, sat crossed-legged next to me and sipped a cup of coffee. I inquired, “Do you want a sausage?”

“No, thank you.”

I dug into the sausages and eggs.

She said, “This is your special day. What would you like to do on Father’s Day?”

Shoot your father. I replied, “It’s such a beautiful day. Let’s go to the beach.”

“I thought we could go shopping.”

“Uh… I thought…”

She had a shopping bag next to her, and she gave it to me. “Here’s your Father’s Day present, and we need to buy you something to go with it.” She informed me, “That’s from me, Carolyn, and Edward. Carolyn and I bought it for you when we were in the city.”

“Great. You shouldn’t have.”

“Open it.”

I reached into the bag for my horrid, two-hundred-dollar tie, which now needed a new suit to match. But it didn’t feel like a tie box. It felt like underwear, or maybe a new Yale T-shirt. But when I pulled it out, it was a white yachting cap, with a black shiny bill, and gold braid on the crown. I stared at it. The last time I wore one of these was when I was on the Race Committee at Seawanhaka – a lifetime ago.

Susan said, “Happy Father’s Day.”

I looked at her, still not quite sure that I was understanding this.

She said, “Try it on.”

So I put it on and it fit. I said, “This is very… thoughtful.” Should I look out the window for the yacht?

Susan explained, “I’ve gone through some yachting magazines, and chosen five boats that we can look at today.”

I really didn’t know what to say, but I said, “This is… really too extravagant.”

“Not at all.”

I turned toward her – without upsetting my breakfast tray – and gave her a big kiss. I said, “Thank you, but-”

“No buts. We are going to sail again.”

I nodded.

“One condition.”

“Never by myself.”

“That’s right.”

“Agreed.”

So we sat there awhile holding hands – my eggs were getting cold – and finally I asked, “Can we afford this?”

“We’re all chipping in. Edward and Carolyn want to do this for you.”

That still didn’t answer the question, but I was very moved by the thought.

Susan produced some magazine pages and gave them to me. I looked at a few classified ads that were circled in pen, and I saw that we were in the right class – forty to fifty-footers – an Alden, two Hinckleys, a C amp;C, and a forty-five-foot Morgan. The prices, I noticed, were a bit steeper than a mainmast – but, as they say, if you have to ask how much a yacht costs, you can’t afford it. Still, I said, “These are a lot of money.”

“Think of all the hours of enjoyment we’ll all get out of it.”

“Right.” I remembered all the good times we’d had as a family sailing up and down the East Coast. Then I thought about my sail around the world, which was something far different. I said, “We have to get the kids to take some time this summer to sail with us.”

“They promised. Two weeks in August.”

“Good.” And then I thought about everything that could and would happen between now and August – the Stanhopes, Susan and me, and Anthony Bellarosa. Well, I’m too pessimistic. Or realistic. But I didn’t want to spoil the moment, so I said, “This was really a great idea. How did you think of this?”

“It was easy. Carolyn, Edward, and I sat down to discuss your Father’s Day gift, and we each wrote a suggestion on a piece of paper, and we all wrote the same thing. Sailboat.”

I guess that was quicker than doing pantomime. I said, “They’re great kids.”

“They were so happy they were able to do this for their father.”

I was getting a little emotional, so I joked, “Where’s my tie?”

“Oh, it didn’t look as good here as it did in the store. I’ll bring it back.”

I wonder why things look different in the store for the ladies. Lighting? Well, it must have been really awful. I said, “I’ll take the boat. Give the tie to your father.”

“Good idea. As soon as the kids get here, we’ll go out and see these boats.” She added, “They want to help.”

Well, it was their money. Actually, it was William’s money, which made this a really great gift. I couldn’t wait to tell Cheap Willie that he’d helped out with my two-hundred-thousand-dollar Father’s Day present – at least with the down payment. We’d need to finance the rest, and I wasn’t sure if everyone’s allowance and the trust fund distributions would be rolling in after today. This was a very appropriate and heartwarming gift to me, but it was also pure folly. Nevertheless, it’s the thought that counts.