Isabel

"It came with the house. I suspect they couldn't figure out how to get it through the door."

The house was lovely, but she wasn't sure if she wanted a summer home in Maine. Nonetheless, she draped her arms over Paul's shoulders, kissed him and thanked him for the gift.

"The only thing I don't like about it," she told him, "Is the idea that you bought it for me for after you're gone. I'm sure you and I will share many wonderful times here together."

But she was wrong. Only one month later, she woke and found him lifeless beside her. He had suffered a massive stroke while he slept.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The house in Maine proved to be a blessing. Without Paul, the townhouse was unbearable. Natalie and Martin rushed back from Maine to be with Isabel and she stayed with them until after the funeral, then went with them back to Merganser Pond.

Paul's passing hit her harder than she had expected. She had not been in love with him, but she had loved him as a friend and loyal companion, and of course she felt great gratitude for the fortune he had left her.

The funeral had been a quiet ordeal. His son, his daughter, the entire family, glared at her throughout the service and the reception. But none of them approached her or spoke a word to her.

"How long will these scavengers be able to keep the estate tied up?" she asked Charles that evening, as they sipped drinks with Natalie and Martin in their living room.

"Up to a year on the stocks and properties," he told her, "But the the personal bank accounts are in both your names so you have access to them at any time."

"So, there's enough money there for me to get by while we work this all out?"

Charles chuckled. "I would say there is enough money there for you to get by for a few centuries."

"You really paid no attention at university, did you?" Natalie asked.

Isabel ignored her. "Good," she said, "Perhaps you could engage some sort of real estate agent or something and find me a nice apartment, or maybe a pent house or something. I'd like to put the townhouse up for sale as soon as we are able."

"I'll have someone get on it," he replied.

****

They left for Maine the next morning. The furnishings Isabel had ordered had all been delivered and properly placed. Her summer clothes had been shipped, and Natalie's housekeeper had stocked the bar and the pantry from the local store, the ridiculously named Saw Whet Superette.

For the next few weeks she wanted to be alone. Natalie stopped by every few days to check in with her, but she was fine. She was enjoying a period of solitude and reflection for the first time in what seemed like her whole life.

She would sit on the patio in the evenings, sipping a glass of wine and watching the sun set behind the distant mountains. Sometimes she pretended that Marianne sat beside her, and she would imagine their conversations.

She felt at peace in a way she never had before. She was beholden to no one, completely independent. She could do anything she wanted, buy anything she desired, go anywhere that struck her fancy.

She expected that eventually there would be new adventures. There would be new lovers and at some point, it was likely there would be new heartaches. For now, the sunsets were enough.

Charles came to visit her in July, bearing news, both good and bad.

"Marlene has left me, this time for good," he told Isabel, as they sat on the patio sipping cocktails, "She is marrying a Qatari oil sheik."

Isabel was torn between sympathy for her friend and delight at Marlene's good fortune. "Will she be moving to Qatar?" she asked.

"Apparently so."

"Oh, that's too bad. But you can't blame a girl for wanting to marry rich."

"True, but I will sorely miss her."

"You could have asked her to marry you, but you didn't," Isabel pointed out.

"I suppose I could have," he replied with a deep sigh.

"And what is the good news, Charles? Or is there more bad to come?"

"No, the rest of the news is good. The judge dismissed all challenge's to Paul's will."

"So, my impertinent stepchildren have been properly chastised."

Charles chuckled. "They are older than you. I find it very amusing when you refer to them as your stepchildren."

"But that's what they are. Sadly that does not give me the allowance to take a large paddle to their nasty bottoms."

"Well, money can't buy everything, darling."

"In this case, it probably could. But it's not worth the bother."

"That may be so, but the judge has certainly spanked them well himself. It should take a few weeks to process everything, and the estate will be yours, free and clear. How are you coming on your list?"

Paul's estate was far larger than Isabel would ever need. She was determined to give away at least half of it and was compiling a list of charitable organizations to which she would give contributions. The Canadian Cancer Society was first on her list, followed by a number of women's shelters and family aid organizations.

"Every time I think I have completed it," she groaned, "Another worthy recipient comes to my attention."

Charles pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped the screen. "Also we have taken care of that other matter you asked about."

"You found her?"

"Yes. Her name is Angela Gerard. She lives in Laval. Divorced. Two children, a girl at college in Toronto and a boy in high school, who lives with her."

"Her occupation?"

"She works in the billing department at an auto dealership."

"Thank you. Please text all that information to me."

"Certainly. May I ask what this is about?"

"It is a family matter."

That evening after supper they had a few drinks and Charles grew maudlin discussing Marlene. While Isabel sympathized with his loss, she was at the same time relieved that his grieving made him uninterested in sleeping with her. She had no objection to fucking him again in the future, but she wasn't ready for that now.

After he had gone to bed in one of the guest rooms, Isabel went into her library. She scanned the shelf where she kept her favorite books, the ones that had meant the most to her, and pulled down Marianne's copy of The Price of Salt.

She took it to her desk and flipped through it, until she found the line that she sought.

"And she did not have to ask if this were right, no one had to tell her, because this could not have been more right or perfect."

She marked the words with a yellow highlighter, then bent back the corner of the page.

There was a small box of notecards on the desktop. She took one, illustrated with pink and red roses. After thinking for a moment she wrote simply, "In her memory, Isabel."

She got her checkbook from the top desk drawer and wrote out a check for $100,000. She placed the check and the notecard on the marked page, and closed the book. On Monday morning, she drove to the Saw Whet post office and mailed it to the address Charles had provided. Perhaps Angela needs the money, she thought, perhaps she does not. But certainly, she will want to know that someone remembers and honors her loss.

****

Isabel sat up and rubbed sunscreen on her arms and shoulders. The two young men on the Jet Skis were coming in close again, obviously hoping for another good look at the women sunbathing on the grass in the little park beside the public landing.

She looked down at Natalie. "Do men think we are aroused by the volume of noise they can make with their machines?" she asked.

"It seems some women are."

"I suppose so. Like howler monkeys."

"I think the singing of birds would be a better analogy."

"Well, you are much kinder than I am."

"That's well known."

The jet skis slowed as they passed, but still, the riders almost collided as they rubbernecked over their shoulders at the two bikini clad women.

Natalie lifted her head and watched them. "They are too young for us," she said, when the noise of their motors subsided.

"I appreciate you not saying that we are too old for them."

She laid down on her side, her head propped on one elbow. "Natalie, I want to ask you a serious question."

Natalie shaded her eyes and looked up at her. "Go ahead, my dear."

"How long is it appropriate for me to continue in the role of the grieving widow?"

Natalie chuckled. "You ask me that while you are lying about in public in your bikini?"

"It's black, at least. I am serious though. A period of mourning is traditional."

"And you are nothing, if not traditional."

"It has only been two months."

"My sweet, if you want some dick, I can send Martin over."

"I love Martin, but I would like some new dick. Perhaps you could throw a party and invite some of the more adventurous folks around here. Surely you have sniffed them out by now."

"There are a few. But you know what our house is like, it's not well suited for parties."

"Mine is. It could be your party, but held at my house."

"That's a good idea," Natalie said. "I can't guarantee that I can find you a new lover, though."

Isabel shrugged. "I'll have one sent down from Montreal."

****

Natalie put her cook to work on arranging for food and stocking Isabel's bar, while she made calls to some of the new friends she and Martin had made among the summer residents of Merganser Pond. Isabel, meanwhile, called a few people from the club. Charles readily accepted her invitation, but Alan was out of town.

When she called Sophia to invite her, she replied that she would love to come and asked, "I assume I may bring a guest with me?"

"Of course," Isabel replied, "Bring two, if you'd like."

"You know I am very good at sharing."

"Bring as many as you like, my dear, I'm sure we can accommodate them."

On the day of the party, Isabel fluttered around the house, unable to sit still. She hadn't felt this way since the opening night of the Libertine Club.

Natalie and Martin came over in the afternoon to help her prepare. "Why are you so nervous?" Natalie asked. "It's just a half a dozen couples coming over for drinks and hors d'oeuvres."

"I don't know," Isabel said, "But I just feel like I want everything to be perfect."

"Have you ever entertained in your own home before?" Martin asked.

"Darling, I've never really had my own home before."

"Well perhaps that's it," Natalie said.

"Yes, you're probably right," Isabel said, but she thought there was more to it than that. It wasn't just entertaining a few friends in her home, this was a coming out of sorts; the first public presentation of the independent Isabel. She did not feel she had anything to prove to any of the people she invited, but she did have things she needed to prove to herself.

Charles arrived shortly after four o'clock. He had a pretty young redhead with him. Isabel met them at the door.

"Isabel, this is Ingrid," he said.

"I love your house!" Ingrid exclaimed.

"Thank you, dear, and welcome."

"Perhaps you can take a look around while I speak for a moment with Isabel," Charles said.

Ingrid smiled and nodded and went inside. Charles handed Isabel a manilla envelope.

"What is this?" she asked.

"It's the paperwork for an apartment. There are pictures and a floor plan. I believe it's just what you were looking for. If you decide you want it, I'll put things in motion and you can move in at the end of September."

"Wonderful, I'll take a good look at them in a little while." She kissed his cheek and took his arm. As they walked down the front hall, she said, "Ingrid seems sweet, but I had heard you were back with Bridget."

"She did not want to come," he shrugged.

"She does not like me."

"She says that you think everyone is in love with you."

"Aren't they?"

After a glass of wine and a round of discussion, all positive, about the apartment, Charles and Ingrid went upstairs to to get some rest after their long drive.

Sophia called a short time later. They had taken a wrong turn and gotten lost.

"Don't you have a GPS?" Isabel asked.

"Yes, dear," Sophia replied, "But it can't get a signal out here in this wilderness. We are at a store in the tiniest town I ever saw. It's called Reed's Corner."

"That's not far," Isabel said.

"I asked the shopkeeper how to get to Merganser Pond. He said, 'Marry a rich man.'"

"He's not wrong."

Isabel gave the phone to Martin, and he provided Sophia with directions. She found her way, and arrived in about fifteen minutes.

She had, as promised brought two young men with her. Kurt was stocky, muscular, with closely cropped blonde hair and rough, but handsome, features. The other man really caught Isabel's eye. He was tall and lanky with wide shoulders and a torso that tapered down to a narrow waist. He had caramel skin, curly jet black hair and a neatly trimmed beard. Sophia introduced him as Ahmed.

"He was a member of the Algerian Olympic swim team," she said.

"Did you win a medal?" Ingrid asked.

He looked slightly embarrassed as he shook his head. "No, but it was a tremendous honor just being there, and representing my country."

Isabel smiled at him and said, "And it's a tremendous honor for me to welcome you to my home."

Ahmed's returned smile indicated he was as interested in her as she was in him. She wondered what Sophia might have told him about her.

Natalie had invited three couples from the resort community and they all soon arrived. Ben and Elaine Kaplan were the first to arrive. They were from Connecticut and seemed very friendly.

The Swansons, Arthur and Susan, were more standoffish. They left after only one drink, saying they had other engagements for the evening.

Isabel had met Carl and Deena Dwyer the previous summer. Deena was a painter, and Natalie had taken Isabel to her studio to look at her work. Isabel liked her, and admired her art. Her husband seemed a bit smarmy, but not intolerably so.

They all congregated in the main room. Isabel opened the French doors that led out to the patio. It had been a humid day but now a light rain was falling and the cool breeze it brought was refreshing.

Martin took it upon himself to act as an impromptu bartender, and soon the guests were sharing hors d'oeuvres and drinks and lively conversation.

When Deena and Carl rose to leave, Isabel and Natalie walked them to the door. As he said goodbye, Carl kissed Isabel's cheek and his hand brushed along her hip. She cocked an eyebrow at him, but he had already turned to get the car and bring it to the door for his wife.

"I was wondering," Deena said to Isabel, "Would you consider sitting for me?"

It took a second for Isabel to understand that Deena was asking her to pose for a painting.

"Why yes," she said, "I'd be glad to."

"What a wonderful idea," Natalie said, "Isabel, do you remember when I posed for Arturo?"

"Yes. That was when I realized what a lovely collection of abstract shapes you are."

Deena laughed. "Well, you know my work is representational. Perhaps you come come by sometime this week?"

"Yes, call me."

Isabel and Natalie each kissed Deena's cheek. As she turned to leave, Deena stopped and looked back over her shoulder.

"Would you pose nude?" she asked.

"She would shop nude at the Saw Whet store if she was not afraid they might deport her," Natalie said.

"Ignore her," Isabel said, "She is correct, but ignore her. If you would like me to pose nude, I will gladly do so."

Deena smiled and left.

"I like her," Natalie said, as she and Isabel returned to the party.

"Carl is lucky to have her."

"Yes, she is delightful."

"She is, but I meant that he wouldn't get invited anywhere without her."

Someone had lowered the lights in the living room. "I suppose this is when the real party starts," Natalie said with a chuckle.

Ahmed was behind the bar, mixing a drink. Isabel went over to him while Natalie joined the rest of the guests.

"I'm making a cosmopolitan," he said, "Would you like one?"

"Yes," she said, "By all means, show off your mixologic skills."

He mades the drinks and handed one to her. "I make no claims to being an expert," he said.

Isabel took a sip. "This is excellent, dear man. Make all the claims you want."

"Your home is lovely," he said, "But I don't know if I would care for the isolation."

"Well, lately, the solitude has been good for me, but yes, a woman does get awfully lonely." she said, casually touching his chest.

"It's hard to imagine someone like you suffering from a lack of willing company."

"Isn't it though? Speaking of that, I must play the gracious hostess. But remind me later," she said, running her hand down his arm, "I'll show you the rest of the house."

He followed her to the couches where the other guests sat. Natalie was sitting snugly against Kurt. Her legs were crossed and his hand rested on her thigh. She was whispering in his ear.

The clatter of conversation ceased as Isabel and Ahmed sat down.

"Oh!" Isabel exclaimed, "I'll have to assume you were all talking about me."

"Of course we were," Charles said, "And why should we not? Aren't you rightfully the center of attention?"

"I would certainly hope so."

Natalie stood, leaned down over Martin. and spoke softly to him. He nodded his head and stood. Natalie beckoned to Kurt. He rose as well and she said, "I hope you'll excuse us," and led the two men to the staircase.

"That nasty slut," Isabel said, "Taking off with two of the men."

"And one of them her own husband," Sophia said.

"It's shocking," Isabel said, fluttering her hands. "Still, we have two very handsome, charming gentlemen here with us."

"Yes we do," Ingrid said, kissing Charles on the cheek.

"I agree that it's only right that Isabel be the center of attention," Sophia said. She stood and came to sit at Isabel's side. Isabel turned to face her and they kissed. She felt a hand on her shoulder and then Ahmed turned her toward him and she kissed him.

Sophia's hand slid up her thigh and Ahmed fondled her breasts. She turned her face back to Sophia and then back to Ahmed again, enjoying the contrast between her smooth skin and soft lips and his silky beard and roughly probing tongue. At one point, she stopped in her turn and locked eyes with Charles. He was wearing a broad smile and when she glanced down, she saw the reason. Ingrid had wrapped her fist around her cock and was stroking it furiously. He spoke to her softly. She looked at Isabel and nodded, then slid to the floor and walked on her knees until she was in front of her, looking up at her with supplicating eyes.

"Go ahead, darling," Isabel said. Ingrid pressed her legs apart, gazing down between them, then lowered her head. She inexpertly lapped at Isabel's pussy. Isabel tangled her fingers in the younger woman's red hair, pulled her face more firmly against her, and offered her instructions; "Slow down dear...there that's it...no... there you go..."

Meanwhile, Ahmed and Sophia had slipped the top of Isabel's dress down to her waist and each had a breast in their hand. Ahmed was kissing the right side of her neck, while Sophia was nibbling her left earlobe.

Charles knelt behind Ingrid and flipped her skirt up over her back. He tugged the crotch of her panties to one side and slid his cock inside her.

"From now on, Charles," Isabel murmured, "Tell your girls that when they come to my house, they are not to wear underpants. I'm declaring that a house rule."

Sophia laughed "I'm happy to say that I am in compliance."

"I will need to verify that," Isabel said. She slid Sophia's dress up her thighs and reached into her lap. Sophia spread her legs and Isabel's fingers found her wet lips.

Isabel watched as Ahmed stood and took off his shirt. His body was like a bronze statue. "My God,"she muttered to Sophia, "I need him to fuck me."

"He will not disappoint you," Sophia said with a grin. Isabel tapped one finger on Ingrid's head. When the girl looked up she said, "Darling, why don't you take care of my friend Sophia for right now?"