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Authors: Elin Hilderbrand
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through the reservation book to May, Memorial Day. “I’m looking at Memorial Day right now and it’s wide open. What do you need?”
“I need a better shrink and a better nanny,” he said. “In fact, I think what I really need is to start over. You know, with my life.”
Therese looked out her floor-to-ceiling window at the back of Aspen Mountain. “I see.”
“My wife is gone,” Leo said. “You remember Kelly? She left me. And I mean left . She left without any money and she left without the kids.”
“The babies?” Therese asked.
“Whitney is ten months and Cole is almost four,” he said. “She left them.”
Therese’s throat soured as she thought of Cecily, puking into a plastic bucket in some awful dorm room two thousand miles away. That was bad enough. She couldn’t imagine a mother abandoning her children, her babies, forever.
“My doctor said I should keep everything as normal as possible. So that’s why I’m calling. I want to bring the kids to the island. All my kids. I have two older boys too, did you know that? Boys, ha!” Leo said. “They’re grown men. Of course I fouled everything up with them in the eighties when I divorced their mother. But they say they’ll come to Nantucket. Humoring me, probably. I think my oldest son is gay. He’s an attorney and he works on gay rights and the kid’s never had a girlfriend that I’ve known about. My other son, Fred, is a third-year at Harvard Law, but Fred is tricky, see, because Fred’s still angry with me from what happened with his mother. I was hoping if the kids spent time with their older brothers maybe they would stop crying.” He paused, and Therese wondered if Leo Hearn weren’t so boring after all. “I just want my children to stop crying.”
Therese gazed out at the mountain, thinking, Please, Bill, come home . “I understand.”
Leo cleared his throat. “Do you have three rooms available?”
Therese was puttering around the lobby on the Friday of Memorial Day, perfecting it for opening weekend, when Leo Hearn and his children arrived.
“Leo,” she said, walking over. “I’m glad you got here safely.”
“Therese,” Leo said. He hugged her and kissed her cheek awkwardly. He turned to his family. “Meet the gang. You know Cole and the baby. This is our nanny, Chantal, and my sons Bart and Fred. We’re quite the entourage.”
Entourage indeed. An attractive blonde held the baby girl. Then the sons: the one named Bart, tall and thin, dressed in a suit, and the one named Fred a younger replica of Leo Hearn himself—broad shouldered and stocky. Weaving between everyone’s legs was the little boy, Cole. Therese crouched down, and said, “Hello, Cole. Welcome back.”
Cole stopped a second and looked at her, his brown eyes suspicious. Then he went back to his aimless weaving. An unhappy child was the sign of an unhappy family; no one could convince Therese differently.
“Come here, Cole,” Leo said. Cole ran and hid under the piano. Leo shrugged. He looked at his other two sons and rubbed his hands together. “So, what do you say, guys, should we play some tennis this afternoon?”
“I don’t know,” Fred, the young Leo, said. “We just got here. Maybe we could relax.”
“Maybe,” Leo said. “Or maybe we could play tennis like I suggested. You want to play, don’t you, Bart?” he asked the son in the suit.
Bart loosened his tie. “Sure, Dad, I’ll play.”
“Well, then, we need a fourth,” Leo said.
Slow down, Leo, stop trying so hard . Therese’s mother instincts kicked in like adrenaline. She went back to watering her plants.
“We need a fourth,” Leo repeated. His eyes scanned the lobby as though someone might magically materialize.
“I don’t have to play,” Fred said. “I’d really rather relax. You can play with Bart.”
“This is a family weekend,” Leo said. “I’d like to play tennis with both of you. We just need a fourth.”
“I was third seed singles at
“I need a better shrink and a better nanny,” he said. “In fact, I think what I really need is to start over. You know, with my life.”
Therese looked out her floor-to-ceiling window at the back of Aspen Mountain. “I see.”
“My wife is gone,” Leo said. “You remember Kelly? She left me. And I mean left . She left without any money and she left without the kids.”
“The babies?” Therese asked.
“Whitney is ten months and Cole is almost four,” he said. “She left them.”
Therese’s throat soured as she thought of Cecily, puking into a plastic bucket in some awful dorm room two thousand miles away. That was bad enough. She couldn’t imagine a mother abandoning her children, her babies, forever.
“My doctor said I should keep everything as normal as possible. So that’s why I’m calling. I want to bring the kids to the island. All my kids. I have two older boys too, did you know that? Boys, ha!” Leo said. “They’re grown men. Of course I fouled everything up with them in the eighties when I divorced their mother. But they say they’ll come to Nantucket. Humoring me, probably. I think my oldest son is gay. He’s an attorney and he works on gay rights and the kid’s never had a girlfriend that I’ve known about. My other son, Fred, is a third-year at Harvard Law, but Fred is tricky, see, because Fred’s still angry with me from what happened with his mother. I was hoping if the kids spent time with their older brothers maybe they would stop crying.” He paused, and Therese wondered if Leo Hearn weren’t so boring after all. “I just want my children to stop crying.”
Therese gazed out at the mountain, thinking, Please, Bill, come home . “I understand.”
Leo cleared his throat. “Do you have three rooms available?”
Therese was puttering around the lobby on the Friday of Memorial Day, perfecting it for opening weekend, when Leo Hearn and his children arrived.
“Leo,” she said, walking over. “I’m glad you got here safely.”
“Therese,” Leo said. He hugged her and kissed her cheek awkwardly. He turned to his family. “Meet the gang. You know Cole and the baby. This is our nanny, Chantal, and my sons Bart and Fred. We’re quite the entourage.”
Entourage indeed. An attractive blonde held the baby girl. Then the sons: the one named Bart, tall and thin, dressed in a suit, and the one named Fred a younger replica of Leo Hearn himself—broad shouldered and stocky. Weaving between everyone’s legs was the little boy, Cole. Therese crouched down, and said, “Hello, Cole. Welcome back.”
Cole stopped a second and looked at her, his brown eyes suspicious. Then he went back to his aimless weaving. An unhappy child was the sign of an unhappy family; no one could convince Therese differently.
“Come here, Cole,” Leo said. Cole ran and hid under the piano. Leo shrugged. He looked at his other two sons and rubbed his hands together. “So, what do you say, guys, should we play some tennis this afternoon?”
“I don’t know,” Fred, the young Leo, said. “We just got here. Maybe we could relax.”
“Maybe,” Leo said. “Or maybe we could play tennis like I suggested. You want to play, don’t you, Bart?” he asked the son in the suit.
Bart loosened his tie. “Sure, Dad, I’ll play.”
“Well, then, we need a fourth,” Leo said.
Slow down, Leo, stop trying so hard . Therese’s mother instincts kicked in like adrenaline. She went back to watering her plants.
“We need a fourth,” Leo repeated. His eyes scanned the lobby as though someone might magically materialize.
“I don’t have to play,” Fred said. “I’d really rather relax. You can play with Bart.”
“This is a family weekend,” Leo said. “I’d like to play tennis with both of you. We just need a fourth.”
“I was third seed singles at
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