Rules of Summer

Rory banged open the back door of the house, trying to get all the groceries and the dry cleaning into the hall in one trip. After saying good-bye to Connor in town, she’d done a run to Citarella and the East Hampton IGA, and then she’d dropped by Sweetwater’s to pick up Mrs. Rule’s cleaned clothes, even though she knew she didn’t need to get them until tomorrow. It couldn’t hurt to do a little bit extra these days, considering the state of things in this house at the moment. One more awkward look from Mrs. Rule and Bianca and she thought that she might finally sneak off to the train station and just go home. She schlepped the bags and the plastic-covered clothes down the hall, watching Trixie bob and weave around her feet. As soon as she dropped this all off in the kitchen, she’d take her out for a run.

She pushed through the kitchen door with the bags and was already at the counter when she noticed Mrs. Rule sitting alone in front of her laptop at the butcher-block table. Her fingers stopped moving as soon as Rory entered.

“Sorry,” Rory said. “I’ll just put these away real quick.”

Mrs. Rule barely looked up from the screen. Rory heaved the bags onto the counter. She needed to get this over with in a hurry.

“And this is your dry cleaning,” she said, holding up the hangers. “Would you like me to take it upstairs?”

“No, that’s all right. You can just leave it on the chair there,” Mrs. Rule said. To Rory’s relief, she went back to typing.

Rory opened cabinets and drawers and the refrigerator, putting away the jars of fig chutney and truffle oil and the paper-wrapped free-range organic chicken breasts.

With a sharp snap, Mrs. Rule closed her laptop. “Rory, can I speak to you a moment?” she asked.

Rory stopped what she was doing and slowly turned around. Mrs. Rule brushed away some dust from the table and then examined the tips of her fingers. “Have you had a nice summer here?” she asked with a smile.

“Yes,” Rory said. “I’ve had a great summer.”

“Good,” Mrs. Rule said, resting her chin on her intertwined fingers. “I’m glad. I’m glad you had a wonderful summer, Rory. It’s been good for us to have you, too.” She smiled again—that same warm, welcoming smile she’d flashed that first day. “But your mother must miss you terribly,” she said. “Along with your friends. And I think it’s time that you started making plans to go back to them. After all, it’s August now.” She paused. “What do you think?”

Rory glanced at the center island and its bowl filled with peaches and plums. “Um, I hadn’t really thought of it yet.”

“I just think that summers are so… important for families,” Mrs. Rule went on, stretching out her fingers and examining her nails. “And I just feel terrible depriving your mother of you, in these last few precious weeks before school starts. Do you know what I mean?”

The hair on Rory’s arms rose up. “Uh-huh,” she said, unable to look away from Mrs. Rule’s smile.

“So, I’ve gone ahead and let your mother know that you’ll be coming home tomorrow. And don’t you worry about train and bus fare. It’s all taken care of.”

“You’ve let her know that?” Rory asked.

“Mmm-hmm,” said Mrs. Rule. “I just wrote her an e-mail. Fee gave me her address. I just think it’s better for you to be back with your own friends and family, Rory. And you’ve been working so hard here. You really do need some time to relax.”

“This is about Connor, right?” Rory said. “You don’t want me dating your son. That’s what this is about.”

“Oh, now, come on, Rory,” she said, smiling, “do you really think I’m that vindictive? I’m just looking out for you. We are so appreciative of your help, but we really don’t need an errand girl anymore. I want you to have some fun this summer. You shouldn’t be worried about my dry cleaning.”

Something about the emptiness of the kitchen struck Rory suddenly. “Where’s Erica?” she asked.

“Erica’s gone,” said Mrs. Rule. “Things weren’t working out with her,” she said. She straightened a jar on the table. “Luckily, chefs are easy to replace.”

Rory took a deep breath. “Just so you know, I understand that this is weird for you,” she said. “Me and your son. But Connor and I have feelings for each other, and that’s why we decided to come out in the open with it when we did. It’s not like we’re having a secret relationship.”

“Well, I have it on good authority that Bianca already found you with a boy in your room this summer,” Mrs. Rule said. “And while I wouldn’t exactly pin you as the type for that kind of thing, I’m sure you can see how that’s not the kind of girl I’d like my son to be dating.”

Rory began to object and then remembered she couldn’t. She couldn’t sell Isabel out, not even now. “Something tells me that that isn’t the reason you disapprove,” Rory said. “Let’s just be clear about that. And I think Connor can make his own decisions about the people in his life.”

“Possibly, but he is very susceptible to other people’s opinions,” Mrs. Rule went on. “Especially mine. Anyway, I’m sure that after a few days, he’ll understand that this is for the best.”

“You can’t do this,” she said. “You can’t kick me out of here without talking to Connor. He’s on his way to Block Island now.”

“Oh, is he?” Mrs. Rule asked. “I guess I forgot. And cell service is so spotty on the ferry.” Mrs. Rule smiled sympathetically. “But don’t worry. You’ve had a wonderful six weeks here, Rory. And can you imagine how awkward it would be, to say the least, if you decided not to leave?” Mrs. Rule’s eyes were ice-blue as she stared at Rory, unblinking.

“Fine,” Rory said. “I’ll leave tomorrow.”

“Morning,” Mrs. Rule clarified. “I have you on an eight-thirty jitney. If that works.”

“But he won’t be back until the late afternoon. I think I’d rather say good-bye to him in person. If that works.”

“We’ll have to play that by ear, won’t we?” Mrs. Rule said, barely able to conceal her delight. “Oh, and something else I forgot to mention. I know that we never talked about salary while you were here, but considering how much you’ve done for us, I’ve decided that I could rethink all of that. So what would you say to about twenty-five hundred dollars for the whole summer?”

Rory let this sink in. “So you want to pay me to leave,” she said evenly.

“I’m paying you for a job well done,” Mrs. Rule said. “And I’m sure your mother, when she reads the e-mail, will agree. Naturally I mentioned something about it to her. Just so that she wouldn’t think your time here would be completely wasted. Think about it.” She checked her watch. “Oh, it’s time for my massage. Excuse me.” She stood up and slowly walked out toward the dining room.

Rory went straight out to the car. She pulled out her phone with shaky hands and called Connor. It went to voice mail. She stood looking out at the patio and the line of the ocean beyond as the wind fluttered the tips of her hair. She could just leave right now and not even wait for the jitney tomorrow morning. Just drive herself to the jitney and hope that Fee could handle packing up her things. Or she could go back inside and find Fee and tell her, in humiliating detail, what had just happened with Mrs. Rule. Or she could go to the Georgica and try to find Isabel. Only Isabel stood a chance of talking some sense into her mom.

She got back into the car and turned on the engine. The people at the Georgica probably wouldn’t let her in, but she was going to have to try.