He nodded. “Yeah.”
“But how often does that happen?” she asked.
“Well, for this couple of women, they probably thought that was exactly what happened—because together they made each other stronger and better in all ways, at least in their minds. But I’m sure everybody else wondered if they had pushed it too far, if they were just being too aggressive. I’m sure the husbands probably have a lot to say.”
“They may have a lot to say, but neither of them is talking, although that’s not uncommon under the circumstances.”
“Any way to find out if they’re talking to shrinks?”
“Well, I hope they are. They’ve just lost their wives.”
“But maybe before that because of the abuse?”
She frowned. “Well, even if I knew that, what good would it do?”
“Maybebothhusbands were considering a divorce.”
She thought about it slowly and wondered. “The one couple was divorced and already lived apart. I guess I could check with their family members.”
“Not that they’ll help, mind you.”
“No, they probably won’t,” she agreed, pondering it. At the picnic table, she sat down and smiled. “We should have brought bathing suits.”
At that, he pulled out his bathing shorts. “Done, though I wasn’t sure if you’d wear these though.” And he held up what looked like a tankini and some boy shorts.
She looked at it and frowned. “Where did these come from?” He just shrugged. She pressed him deeper. “Come on. Where are they from?”
“Okay, I picked them up for you,” he admitted, with a nonchalant attitude that she found interesting. It was almost like he was trying to hide what he’d done.
She held it out, checked the size, and whistled. “So, did you check out my clothing, or are you just that good?”
He flashed her a brilliant smile and stated, “Pretty sure I’m just that good.”
She burst out laughing and turned to see changing rooms. “I’ll go pop these on then and seejusthow good you are.” With that, she got up and dashed over to the changing rooms. A few minutes later she had her answer. He was damn good. The boy shorts were something she would never have chosen for herself, but they were actually really cute. They were similar to runner’s shorts but much shorter, almost like something that she’d wear to sleep in, and the tankini fit her like a glove and exposed a whole lot of skin.
She packed up her other clothes and walked outside, barefoot across the grass. He took one look and whistled. She shook her head. “I would never have chosen these.”
“Maybe not,” he agreed, “but they look really good on you.”
She admitted, with a soft voice, “I agree. Thank you.”
He asked, “Food first or swim?”
She gazed at the water, rippling back at her in the sun, and said, “You know something? I think a swim first.”
“Good, let’s have a go at it,” he stated. They put all their stuff—their clothing, watches, phones, and whatnot—in the basket and carried it down close to the shore, leaving it all to the side.
Once there, she walked straight in and dove under the water. As soon as the cold water closed over her head, she felt the stress just slipping away into the waves around her. By the time she broke the surface again, she was lively and yet at peace. She swam out as far as she could with a hard front crawl, did a flip, turned around, and came back toward shore. Only as she came up in the last twenty feet did she realize Simon swam steadily at her side. When she came back to the shallow part and stood up again, she brushed her hair off her face, flipped backward, and just floated.
“Oh my God,” she moaned. “Every time I come to the water, I wonder why I just can’t live in it all the time. It’s always so calming and decompressing for me.”
“You should have a pool at your place.”
“That would be fun,” she agreed, “but I don’t, and I’m not prepared to move to a place that does.”
“Why not?” he asked.
She looked over at him, her head just barely rolling in the water, so she saw him from the corner of her eye. “Because it costs a lot of money.” He just nodded and didn’t say anything. “Besides, it’s not the same thing being in a pool, where everybody has access to the space that you want.”