B000FC1MHI EBOK (25 page)

“Are you a vegetarian?” he asked.

“No.”

“Then we’re golden.” He raised his voice again, this time along with a finger aimed at the food cart near the line of parked cars. “Four hot, Alfie—mustard and relish—and two cold.”

Julia downed every last bit of two hot dogs with mustard and relish, and a tall glass of fresh-squeezed lemonade. She couldn’t remember when she’d had a better lunch. She couldn’t remember when she’d had a more companionable one, though neither she nor Noah said much. It was enough that he was with her there on the bench, watching the life of the harbor for an hour that Sunday.

Molly was livid. Julia could see it the instant she pulled up at Zoe’s stone farmhouse and spotted her daughter on the front steps. She had barely climbed from the SUV when Molly rose, then stood stiffly still, grasping the railing behind her. Between the look on her face and the shortness of her hair—still startling to Julia—she was clearly a rebel with a cause.

Julia tried a smile as she approached the steps. “I thought you were hanging around the harbor until it was time for work.”

“Well, that was the plan,” Molly said with disdain, “then you kept sitting there with him and people were commenting, and I couldn’t bear it a minute longer.”

“People were commenting?” Julia asked. “Commenting about what?”

“About what is going on between you two,” Molly said, giving each word due weight. “About the fact that Noah hasn’t been interested in anyone for ages. About the fact that you’re wearing a wedding band, and if he’s interested in you, he’s playing with fire. They were asking
me
if you and Dad were separated.”

“Whoa. Noah and I were sitting on a bench,” Julia argued quietly. “
Sitting
on a bench.”

“He wasn’t sitting. He was kneeling down in front of you, close as could be. You were holding hands. Your heads were together. Anyone watching would have reached the same conclusion.”

“I was crying, Molly. I was upset. Didn’t those people see what happened with Vanessa Walsh?”

“That was beside the point,” Molly said.

Julia didn’t think so at all. “It tore me apart to see her screeching that way—brought everything back, everything to do with the accident. I was upset, and I was crying. Noah held my hand—the way you might have,” she said with a dare in her voice. She remembered the hurt she had felt that for all their closeness, Molly hadn’t been able to reach out. “That’s how people give comfort to those they know and like and care about.”

“But you’re married to someone else.”

“Molly,
listen
to me,” Julia said with more force now. Zoe had come to the screen door, but Julia kept her eyes on her daughter. “Noah Prine is a friend. I have no intention of poisoning that just because some people have small minds. I don’t want you to be one of those people. Please, Molly. Support me here. Give me the benefit of the doubt.”

To her credit, Molly looked torn. “It’s just that you’re acting so
strange
. You’re staying here, even when you know that Dad’s doing things he shouldn’t in New York. You haven’t even called him.”

Julia might have said that she had, that they had talked while Molly was at work. The girl would never know if it was true or not.

But Julia wasn’t a liar. “We’ve emailed. I’ve sent him pictures.”

“He doesn’t need pictures,” Molly cried. “He needs
you
.”

Solemn, Julia asked, “What about what I need? Isn’t it important that I need this time away? I know it’s upsetting to you, and it’s upsetting to me, too. But I need this time, Molly. I
need
this
time
.”

A car approached. Julia had no sooner heard its engine when Molly’s eyes flew past her. A dusty red wagon came up the drive and pulled in beside Julia’s car.

“That’s our taxi,” Zoe said, coming out onto the porch. “Who…?” She stopped talking when the back door opened and a man climbed out. Not as tall as he had been in his heyday, nor as slim, he wore a tieless business shirt and pressed slacks. His thinning gray hair showed its share of scalp, his oval face its share of doubt.

“Omigod,” Julia cried. “Dad!” She started forward, heart pounding as she searched the backseat for her mother. Janet wasn’t there, but her disappointment was short-lived. The idea that her father had come through for her after all was enough to warm her heart.

Jogging to the car, she gave him a hug. “You should have told us you were coming,” she scolded when she drew back. “I’d have picked you up.”

“I didn’t know it myself until I got here. It was a last-minute thing.” He held up a hand, clearly agitated. “I’ve been patient. I sat back and followed her lead, but when she goes on and on about Zoe, and on and on about you—a man can only take so much. I kept telling her to listen to herself. Had she done that, she wouldn’t have been pleased. But she doesn’t listen. She simply says what she feels and assumes that it’s the only correct way to view things, and, quite honestly, I’ve had it.”

Julia felt something turn inside. “What do you mean?”

“Know when the last time was we took a vacation? If you do, refresh my memory, because the only times we go away are when she can tie it into work. It’s not much of a vacation for me, when she’s at meetings half the time. I think it’s wonderful that she’s so successful; she’s done good things—I can’t deny her that. Finally, though, I have to look at my own life. I need a break.”

Julia could certainly identify with that. “A break from?”

“Work. Baltimore. And, yes, your mother. She hasn’t been much fun to be with lately.”

“Have you
left
her?” Molly asked, joining them, a horrified look on her face. When she angled that look at Julia, it held an accusatory edge.

“I’m here, and she’s there,” George said belligerently. “She needs time alone to think about the effect she has on people, and I need a vacation.” He produced a thin smile. “I thought, what better place to be than with my daughter and granddaughter.” To Julia, he said, “You always know the right things to say in situations like these.”

Slowly and painfully, Julia absorbed the fact that her father hadn’t come to comfort her at all. Quite the opposite. He had come so that she could comfort
him
. And why not? She had certainly done it enough in the past.
Give her time, Dad, she’ll calm down. She’s so used to solving problems that when she can’t, she gets frustrated and says things she doesn’t mean. How about I take a train down and meet you for dinner, and Mom will be in a better mood by the time she gets home.

Her mother never went to Julia with problems. Her father was something else. He wouldn’t think of seeing a counselor, when Julia played the role so well.

Right now, though, she wasn’t up for being a marriage counselor. She didn’t want to deal with her parents’ problems. She had far more pressing problems of her own.

Wary, she asked, “You’re staying on Big Sawyer? For how long?”

He shrugged. “How long are
you
staying? I’ll stay that long.”

A day or two, she could have handled. Maybe even three. But an indefinite stay, with him tied to her own plans? The thought of it was enough to crowd her chest, making her want to gasp for air. What was unfolding here was
not
what she’d had in mind when she had planned her own trip.
None
of it was what she’d had in mind.

Fighting a rising panic, she was searching for words when Molly asked George, “Where will you stay? Mom and I are in Zoe’s guest rooms.” She paused, then offered a reluctant, “We could always double up.”

“I’ll stay in town,” George said, with Molly quickly shaking her head.

“There are no places, unless you rent a house, and my boss was just saying everything decent is booked. Next weekend’s the Fourth. From now to Labor Day, forget it.”

George was undaunted. “Then Zoe’ll make a call and find a friend with a spare bedroom. I’ll get something.”

Julia was still struggling with the larger picture—her father coming and going with his problems with her mother, Molly coming and going with her problems with Julia, and Julia feeling hemmed in by the detritus of her life—not to mention Zoe, who would have feelings about George being around, and whom would Zoe confide in? Julia, of course.

Suddenly, there was only one choice. “Stay here,” Julia told her father. “Take my room. I’ll find another place to stay.”

Molly turned on her. “Where?”

Julia didn’t care where. She only knew that she wanted out. “I could stay at the Walsh place,” she said. “Ellen left several beds. I could also stay at Tony Hammel’s photo camp. There are possibilities.”

Zoe joined them, protesting, “But you were here first.”

George added, “I never intended to displace you.”

“Things have grown crowded here,” Julia said. “I need time alone. I’ll be back to help with the rabbits, Zoe. I want to do that. But this is my vacation. I need space.”

“What about us?” Molly cried. “We came here to be with you.”

Julia felt a moment’s guilt—but only because that was what she had been conditioned to feel. Taking a breath, she let the moment pass and eyed her daughter levelly. “Would you have come here if the job in Paris had worked out? I doubt it, and I’d have been the first to tell you not to come.” She turned to her father. “Would you have come here if you and Mom hadn’t argued? Honestly?” Of course he wouldn’t have come.

“But we were arguing about
you,
” he reasoned.

Again, there was a moment’s guilt, but this, too, passed. She wasn’t a little girl, and she didn’t need to be taught the meaning of responsibility; she was an adult who had more than paid her family dues.

Feeling remarkably resolute, even emboldened, she said, “If that’s supposed to make me feel guilty, so that I’ll turn around and do what will make all of you feel best, I’m sorry. It doesn’t. And I won’t. I’ve carried the weight of family responsibilities for more years than I care to count.” She paused but didn’t try to fight back the indignation that rose in her. “I deal with everyone else’s problems. Who deals with mine?”

T
hirty minutes later, Julia was on her way, and at no point in those thirty minutes did she waver, though the pressure was fierce. Her father kept saying that he hadn’t meant to cause a stir; Molly kept saying that Julia really
could
share her room; Zoe kept saying—albeit for Julia’s ears alone—that she wanted Julia, not George, in her house.

All the hovering made Julia more determined than ever to find her own place. If having survived the accident meant that she had been chosen to restructure her life, she couldn’t think of a better step than declaring her independence. She packed up her new clothes, plus a bagful of Zoe’s things. She packed up her camera equipment and printer. She was actually driving away when she stopped, backed up to the barn, and ran in for the pocketbook that the divers had recovered. The leather had dried to a motley tan and was nowhere near as soft as it had been, but there were things inside that she wanted.

More to the point, there were things inside that she didn’t want others to see. Tossing the bag into the SUV, she closed the hatch, slid in behind the wheel, and left the farmhouse behind.

And
still
she didn’t waver. She actually felt free—and, yes, that brought twinges of guilt. She loved Zoe. She loved her father. Lord knew, she loved Molly. Loving herself—respecting her own needs— was something important and new.

Heading first for the harbor, she parked at the end of the pier, walked down the dock, saw that Noah wasn’t on his boat, and returned to her car. A short while later, she drove up Main Street, turned left on Spruce, and cruised slowly past one fisherman’s cottage after another until she spotted his blue truck. Pulling in behind it, she was barely out of the car when Lucas loped up and escorted her down the short walk. Passing bushes still redolent with lilacs, though the blooms were fading, she gave a hearty knock on the weathered frame.

Noah opened the door—and for the first time, remembering how Molly had gone on about heads together, hands held, and Noah not having been with anyone for a while, Julia did waver. He seemed taller than before, perhaps a fact of the darkness behind him. He wore jeans and a T-shirt with the sleeves torn off. She saw broad shoulders and firm biceps.

High on one of those biceps was a ropy tattoo. Glimpsing it, she felt a deep burning inside, something she hadn’t felt in a while—not for Monte, nor for anyone else. She thought of herself as attractive, not sexy—probably because Monte thought of her as attractive, not sexy. If he found her sexy, the reasoning went, he wouldn’t have strayed.

Noah smiled through the screen and glanced at Lucas. “What’d I say? He knows beauty. How’re you doin’?”

“Not bad,” she said. “Actually, not great. I have a
huge
favor to ask. I know this is a major imposition on my part. It’s truly taking advantage of the fact that you and I just happened to be on the
Amelia Celeste
at the same time, and after the kindness you showed me earlier, I feel guilty asking for
anything,
but it’s like, when the problem arose, I could only think of one answer. Of course, I couldn’t tell Zoe and Molly and my dad what it was—”

“Your dad’s here?”

She nodded. “Showed up a little while ago, right out of the blue, and suddenly there’s all this family at Zoe’s, and I really want none of it. I packed up my things and drove away—just like that. I know it’s something I need to do, but I’m not used to acting on impulse, so now I’m in a bind, which is why I’m here on your doorstep. Please feel free to say no. This is the first place I’ve stopped, and if you’re uncomfortable with this, I’m sure there are other options—”

Shhhh,
said the finger he put against his lips.

She stopped talking.

“Are you looking for a place to stay?” he asked.

Apologetically, she nodded.

“Want my hill house?”

She took a quick breath. “Desperately.”

“It’s yours.”

She exhaled in relief. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. I won’t be going there, not with the boy coming tomorrow.”

“I know it’s where you keep your computer. Tell me when you want to use it, and I’ll take off for however long. It’s just such a perfect location, so quiet and out of the way. I need to think. I’ll be able to do it there. I have a cell phone, so I won’t rack up a bill on your line. And I’m neat. No mess. I’ll take good care of the place.”

“I’m not worried.”

“Truly?” she asked.

He nodded and smiled. “There’s no one I’d rather have in my bed.”

Julia laughed in delight. Yes, she heard Molly warning her about the way it looked and what people were saying, but she figured Noah knew of the talk. If he wasn’t bothered, she wasn’t either.

“Thanks,” she said, grinning still. She started to turn, paused, looked at Lucas and then at Noah again. “Um, maybe you can remind me how to get there?”

Noah did one better. He led the way in the truck. He stopped en route at the island store for food basics—which, against Julia’s protests, he insisted on paying for but, as he saw it, she was doing him a favor. At a time when he felt the loss of his father, the challenge of his son, and an acute need to do something to justify his having been spared death himself, she was there. Helping her felt right.

Besides, he liked her. She was different from the other women he knew. She had a mind of her own and could argue with him quite effectively, but she didn’t pretend to have all the answers.
That
was refreshing, after Sandi.

She was also married, which made her safe. He didn’t have to worry about impressing her, didn’t have to worry about whether she liked the island, whether she would want to stay, whether she could possibly survive without culture and comfort. He didn’t have to apologize for being early to bed and early to rise. He didn’t have to dress up.

Since she was married, nothing could happen. Sure, people talked. But the ones he cared about knew how he felt about carrying on with married women. He didn’t do it.

Lucas, of course, was totally smitten, but Lucas was a dog. What did he know?

Julia Bechtel was a friend. That made it okay for Noah to loan her the hill house and outfit it with food. He felt good doing it, actually felt
terrific
doing it. From the minute he opened the door and brought in the first of her things, the place felt warmer. The fact that she seemed to love the house made him feel even better.

She hadn’t brought much with her. They emptied her car in no time, had the food put away, her clothes hung, her printer hooked up to his computer so that she could print and email pictures to her heart’s delight. Overriding her protests, he even installed her photo-editing software, so that she could play and experiment. Then, since it was only four, he led her through the woods surrounding the house, over barely discernible trails and along crumbling stone walls, to spots that he knew—the ruins of an old cellar, an assembly of thick birches with peeling white bark, a boulder with a view. When they returned, it was nearly six, so he uncorked a Chardonnay and sliced French bread, while she washed red grapes and warmed a wedge of Brie. They took it all out to the bedroom deck, sat on lounge chairs, and enjoyed the serenity.

Noah didn’t know whether it was the wine, the most pleasant social experience he’d had in years, or simply the fact that with Ian due in sixteen hours, he couldn’t procrastinate any longer, but when he finally returned to his parents’ house, he was motivated. No matter that dusk approached. For the first time since he had left for the mainland with his father that fateful Tuesday, he raised the shades, opened the windows, and aired out the house. He stripped both his bed and Hutch’s, and washed the sheets. He made room in his closet for Ian’s things, put his own things in Hutch’s room, put Hutch’s things in boxes so quickly that he couldn’t dwell on the loss. Deeming half of the food in the refrigerator to be either moldy or spoiled, he tossed it out, wiped down the shelves in preparation for fresh food the next morning. He scrubbed the bathroom. He washed the towels, then his own clothes. He replaced a bulb that had blown out in one of the living room lamps. He cleaned ashes from the woodstove.

By the time he was done, it was nearly midnight, and he was tired. But he had a sense of accomplishment. The house was clean and smelled fresh. It wouldn’t embarrass him in front of Ian. Lying on newly washed sheets in his parents’ bed—now his own—with the familiar tang of salt air filtering in through the screen and skimming his body, he felt more human than he had in days.

He thought of his parents then, and the years they had slept in this room, in this bed. They had been happy together. He remembered shared glances and brief touches, nothing obvious, but enough to suggest an intimate meeting of minds. He truly did find solace thinking of them together again.

On that reassuring note, he fell into a sound sleep. He didn’t even wake at the usual predawn hour that lobstering demanded, but slept through until eight when, startled, he jumped out of bed into a rush of last-minute chores, raced to the store and back, filled the fridge and the cupboard, mowed the lawn, gave Lucas a bath.

With everything done, he thought of Julia at his hill house, totally accepting—even admiring—of him. Buoyed, he whistled for Lucas, climbed into the truck, and set off to meet Ian in Portland.

Julia slept late, in part because that was what vacations were for, but more likely because she had been so late going to bed the night before. One thing had followed the next—a short call to Zoe telling her where she was staying, a similar message left for Monte, a certain amount of unpacking, lots of trips up and down the stairs, poking around, familiarizing herself with what was where and how to use it all, and then going out on the deck to see the play of moon and stars between a shifting veil of clouds. By the time she had washed up, set her wedding band on the bathroom counter, and pulled back that simple white bedspread, she was flush with adrenaline as she relived the events of the day, swinging from disbelief to pride, to excitement, to fear.

Moreover, slipping between Noah’s sheets, she was acutely aware of… slipping between Noah’s sheets. That thought was a lovely distraction from the rest, though no more calming.

Eventually, it struck her as she lay in that bed that she had never, ever lived alone. She had gone straight from her family home to a dormitory with two roommates, and from there to life with Monte. Yes, he took business trips, but she didn’t call being left behind living alone. This was living alone. For as long as she stayed, there would be no one else using the bed, no one else using the bathroom, no one else drinking coffee from the first pot of the day.

For now, that felt right. It felt like the kind of new experience she was meant to have after the accident. For the long run? She didn’t know. And that raised the dilemma of what to do with her future, which was truly what kept her awake until three in the morning.

She fell asleep with no solution in sight, and bolted up once to the vision of a purple bow bursting out of fog. Short of breath and shaking, she was a minute realizing where she was and quite a few more before she calmed. But sleep did return.

When she awoke next, it was after nine and the bedroom was bright. Beyond the windows, a filmy haze made something mystical of the blues and greens that would have otherwise delineated sky, sea, and woods. Propped on all those pillows that she had admired the Thursday before, she let herself float in the haze awhile—so mesmerized that she didn’t hear a car approach at the front of the house. Nor, apparently, did she hear the first sound of the doorbell. It was only when the ring came in a series of short, urgent trills that she realized someone had come.

Assuming it was Noah, she slipped on a robe and ran up the stairs. She was startled to open the door and find a visibly guarded Molly— which should have brought back the angst of the previous day, but didn’t. Feeling instant pleasure, Julia broke into a smile.

“Molly!” she said, catching the girl’s hand. “You have to see this.” Drawing her into the house, she pulled her down the stairs and onto the deck. “Isn’t this
the
best view?”

Molly looked at it awhile before turning to Julia. “It’s really nice,” she said quietly. “So’s the house. Zoe said it’s Noah’s.”

“Yes.” Julia put both hands on Molly’s shoulders. “Okay. You just showed up here unannounced. Was he here?”

“No.”

“Do you see any evidence that he was here?”

“You’re not wearing your wedding band.”

“I never wear it at night. You know that. Try again. Any evidence he was here?”

“I haven’t looked.”

“Trust me,” Julia said gently but firmly. “He wasn’t. He doesn’t live here, which is the only reason I can. It’s the perfect place for me. Don’t you think so?”

“I don’t know what to think,” Molly answered, losing all semblance of composure. She seemed completely rattled. “Everything’s always been the same, and suddenly it isn’t. You’re here and Dad’s there, and now Grampa’s here and Gram is there. Of all the people in my life, I thought my family was the most together. What’s wrong with Daddy? Doesn’t he
know
you’re the best woman he could ever have?”