Innis Harbor

by Patricia Evans Cox

  Amir tossed a pillow in her direction as she got up to put another log on the fire.

  Loch looked at her watch and then the door.

  “It’s late. I should get back to the house.” Loch looked like she had something else to say. Amir waited for her to go on, but she didn’t, so she took a guess.

  “But you don’t want to?”

  Loch paused, then looked over at the window to the branches swaying in the wind outside the slick black glass. “Not tonight, I guess.”

  “Then stay here,” Amir said, dropping her gaze to Loch’s mouth. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

  Loch looked up at the loft, then back at Amir as she ran a hand through her hair. “What if I want you upstairs with me?”

  Amir hesitated, then walked over to Loch and slid her hand around the back of her neck, gaze locked onto hers. “I’ll be fine down here.”

  Loch stepped slowly closer, her mouth nearly touching Amir’s. The warmth of her breath hovered between them. Amir closed her eyes.

  “Please?”

  A few minutes later, Amir pulled Loch into her arms in bed, Loch’s hair sifting and falling through her fingers like snow until she heard her breath drop gently into sleep.

  The next morning, Loch woke before Amir and walked the two miles back to Samia’s house. She unlocked the door hurriedly, dropped the keys on the table, and didn’t even bother to take off her jacket before she dug her Nikon camera and lenses out of the bag she’d brought from New York. She walked into the living room, opened all the curtains to let in the natural light, and started shooting. She shot every angle of the living room, then went on to the next, looking at everything only through the lens. She knew she had to let go of all the things in the house that were holding her in the past, but she didn’t want to forget, either.

  When she was sure she had pictures of everything just as it was, Loch spent the rest of the day packing up everything she wanted to keep, which, in the end, filled one small box. Afterward, as she sank down the kitchen wall and opened a bottle of water from the fridge, she remembered a sign she’d seen about a new women’s shelter being set up in Bar Harbor.

  It took some calling around, but she finally got in touch with the director, Shelley Hart, who told her that someone had donated the house they were currently using for the shelter, but they’d been there for weeks and it still had almost no furniture; there was nothing to make it feel comfortable for the women who had just lost their homes. Loch liked Shelley right away, and by the end of the conversation, they’d arranged for her to send a truck and movers to Innis Harbor on Sunday for Samia’s things.

  When Loch hung up, she sat where she was in the middle of the living room, the breeze from the open window washing over her, lifting just the edge of the curtain like a nod.

  The next morning, Loch showered and decided to walk downtown instead of using her French press; the diner coffee was growing on her, but this time, she left her sunglasses at home in the hopes it would up her chances of getting some actual cream.

  The bell clanged on the door as she walked in, and she instinctively reached into the pocket where her sunglasses usually were, but no one turned to look at her. Even the waitress, the same girl she’d seen working last time, just asked her what she wanted and turned to pour the coffee. As Loch chose a stool and unfolded the classifieds, the only section left once again, she realized that for once, nobody cared who she was.

  The waitress set a cup in front of her and filled it from the pot. She was slender with dark glossy hair, and when she looked up, Loch noticed a smattering of freckles across her nose.

  “You buying the Cape Cod on the hill?” She glanced down at her name tag. “I’m Cara, by the way.”

  Another customer walked up to the register just then, so she turned to ring up the ticket before she turned back to Loch.

  “No, not really,” Loch said, refolding the paper into a crumpled square and setting it back on the counter. “Samia was my aunt. She left the house to me.”

  Cara nodded, her face softening. “Ms. Battersby taught my high school art class, and I still draw sometimes. She was a great teacher.”

  Loch nodded, looking down at her coffee. “I miss her. I haven’t even gone into her studio yet, but I’m going to have to at some point.”

  Cara didn’t answer, but the next time she passed Loch at the counter, she set the pitcher of cream next to Loch’s cup.

  “Can I have a coffee to go, Cara?”

  Loch heard the voice and put her coffee cup down on the paper placemat. It was Amir. Loch turned toward her and smiled.

  “Ah, the vanishing Loch.” A slow smile spread across Amir’s face. “I was starting to wonder if I was going to see you again.”

  Loch smiled, and as Cara turned away to get the coffee cup, she ran her fingertips up the back of Amir’s thigh.

  “Jesus.” Amir looked at her, then leaned close to Loch’s ear. “What is it going to take to get you out of here and into my truck?”

  Loch whispered back, her lips just touching Amir’s ear. “A to-go cup.”

  Amir put a five on the counter and asked Cara for the cup, her hand warm at the small of Loch’s back as they left.

  “So, where are you taking me?” Loch watched the steering wheel slide through Amir’s hands as she turned out of town and up the hill toward the house.

  Amir smiled. “Anywhere you want to go.”

  “Are you not working today?”

  Amir shook her head. “Not really. I have a major project starting Sunday, the Nelson greenhouse, but I cleared my schedule this week to try to get some decent photos of some of my past work.”

  “Why the photos?”

  “I want to expand into Bar Harbor and hire more crew,” Amir said. “But to do that, I have to step up my game a bit. My brother said he’d build my website, but I have to come up with pictures of my work for him to use.”

  “That sounds fairly easy.”

  “Yeah, you’d think,” Amir said, turning onto Loch’s street, steering wheel slipping under her hands like water. “But the first two times, I crashed and burned. I was out all day, but nothing looked remotely right when I tried to use them later. It turns out getting good pictures is a lot harder than it seems.”

  “Maybe it’s the camera,” Loch said, glancing around the inside of the truck for it. “What are you using?”

  Amir pulled up to the curb at Loch’s house, shifted the truck into park, and pulled her phone out of her back pocket.

  Loch looked at her blankly, then realized she was serious. “You’re kidding me, right?”

  “No.” Amir turned it over in her hand. “What else would I use?”

  Loch got out of the truck and shut the door, leaning in through the open window. “Give me a minute. I’ll be right back.”

  Loch unlocked the door of the house and grabbed her jacket, camera, and lens bag from the front room. Amir watched her as she locked the house and walked back to the truck and slid in, running her hand through her hair.

  “You’re seriously going to help me with this?”

  “Yep,” Loch said, shutting the door and reaching for her seat belt. “This is kind of my area. But don’t get too excited. I need something from you that’s guaranteed to be a pain in your ass, so I’m just trying to butter you up before I ask.”

  “Well.” Amir started the engine and slid the truck into gear. “It’s working.”

  Thirty minutes later, they pulled up a long winding drive on the outskirts of Bar Harbor. A summer home appeared at the end of the road, framed by the calm blue water behind it and into the horizon. It was made of traditional white clapboard, with a bright blue door and brilliant yellow zinnias spilling out of the flower boxes under the windows.

  “Good god,” Loch said. “This is beautiful. It’s like every New Yorker’s dream.”

  “It belongs to a client I’ve had for years.” Amir pulled into the driveway and shifted into park. “Last fall, he needed his dock rebuilt, but he
only lives here in the summer, so he wanted someone he knew to do the work. I contracted a company here in town to put in the flotation system, then I laid the dock surface.”

  As they walked down to the water, a red cypress dock came into view, the wood polished and gleaming in the sunlight over the deep blue surface of the water. It extended about twenty-five yards out, but instead of the severe square angles of most docks, this one was designed with sections that curved smoothly out from the main length in three different directions. From land, it looked more like a sculpture of an ancient tree, framed by the sea and sky.

  “You designed this?”

  “I did,” Amir said. “His wife wanted something unique, not a traditional dock design. She wanted it to look more organic, like part of the water, with the same movement and shape as the sea.”

  As they approached, Loch stopped and handed the camera to Amir while she chose a lens from her bag. When she had it snapped on, she took a series of photos from the left side of the house with the sunlight glinting against the surface of the water and white-capped waves crashing onto a rocky point in the distance. When Loch was done, they continued down the dock, the boards shifting slightly under their feet, water lapping gently against both sides as they walked.

  “This is amazing, Amir,” Loch said, shading her eyes and looking out over the surface. “I can’t imagine having the talent it takes to design this, let alone build it.” She paused and looked back at the house. “Are we the only ones here?”

  “They left yesterday.” Amir zipped up her jacket and looked out over the water. “They’re in Boston this week but gave me permission to come take whatever pictures I needed.”

  Loch set the camera on the dock and pulled her shirt over her head, dropping it at her feet. A smile swept across Amir’s face in a sudden flash.

  “I’d ask what the hell you’re doing,” she said, biting her lip, trying to keep her eyes on Loch’s face, “but I’m afraid you’ll stop.”

  Loch laughed, stepping out of her boots and jeans, leaving her in just a black racerback bra and underwear.

  “It’s not that exciting,” she said, smiling at Amir. “We’re just going to get an action shot, and what I’m wearing should look like a bikini in the pictures. If all your photos are static, the site won’t be as interesting.”

  She looked around to find the direction of the sun, then picked up the camera, standing close to Amir and showing her the button to push.

  “Click it right after you see my feet leave the dock, okay? Then keep clicking until I disappear into the water.”

  “I don’t know if I should let you do this.” Amir held her gaze and nodded toward the water. “Do you know how cold that water is?”

  Loch nodded and walked to the end of the dock, dipping her hands in the water and scraping her hair away from her face for the photo. “About twenty degrees warmer than the water at the swimsuit photoshoots every February.”

  Amir just shook her head and lifted the camera. “I’m ready when you are, crazy girl.”

  Loch dove toward the sun, her body rising into a perfect high arch, then slipped silently below the dark surface of the water. As she broke the surface and swam toward the ladder on the side of the dock, Amir lowered the camera.

  “God, that was beautiful,” she said. “Where did you learn to dive like that?”

  “My sister’s a competitive swimmer.” Loch smiled at her and pulled herself up onto the dock, water streaming down her body in rivulets that caught and held the sunlight. “I’ve been in the water a couple of times.”

  She leaned in close to Amir to get a look at the camera as Amir clicked through the shots.

  “I think you’ve already got what we need,” she said. “But let’s do it one more time and then get some photos as I come up the ladder. Just get me in the background, though, walk back far enough that the dock is the main focus.”

  “The dock,” Amir said, sweeping Loch with her eyes as she walked away, “is nowhere near my main focus right now.”

  After Loch dove again, she swam over to the ladder and stood so the water was at her thighs, then looked to the left, letting the sunlight fall across the angles of her face in a soft gold wash. Amir took a few shots from several yards down the dock, then walked slowly toward Loch, dropping to her knee a few feet away and taking one more photo as Loch looked directly into the camera, her eyes soft.

  Amir stood and took off her jacket, handing it to Loch as she came out of the water, even though she tried to tell her she didn’t need it.

  “You may not, but I need you to put it on.” Amir held it out for her, and Loch slipped into it. “People stare at you all damn day. I’m trying not to be one of them.”

  Loch turned around and looked into her eyes, wrapping the coat around herself and pulling the sleeves down over her hands. Amir felt the slow, wet warmth of her body as Loch leaned against her.

  “It feels different when you do it.”

  Amir pulled Loch into her body, then looked into her eyes as she held Loch’s face in her hands.

  “It is different.”

  After getting the shots they needed at the dock, they went to three more properties. After the last one, Loch paused as she opened the truck door.

  “Wait,” she said, sliding into her seat. “Why haven’t we taken any pictures of you?”

  “Oh, no.” Amir laughed as she slid the truck into gear. “That’s definitely not going to happen.”

  “You need to show up somewhere on the website.” Loch clicked through the shutter on the camera and pointed it at Amir. “Let me take a couple pictures, just in case.”

  Amir hesitated. “As long as I don’t actually have to use them.”

  “Not at all.” Loch slowly spun a dial on the top of her camera. “But you might want to. Your look is going to be way better for this business than mine.”

  Amir laughed, getting back out of the truck and slamming the door shut. “I can guarantee you, Ms. Battersby, that is not the case.”

  Loch walked a few steps toward her, then looked down at Amir’s sweatshirt and tipped her head. “What do you have on under there?”

  Amir laughed. “You get right to the point, don’t you?”

  “I meant that in a purely professional sense.” Loch smiled, her gaze moving across Amir’s broad shoulders.

  “I think I’ve got on a white sports bra and a white T-shirt.”

  “Perfect,” Loch said, stepping back and focusing the camera toward her. “Lose everything but that.”

  Amir pulled her jacket and sweatshirt off, leaving her in just the T-shirt and jeans, with a worn black leather belt. Loch put the camera down in the truck bed and ran her hands through Amir’s hair, leaving some of it standing slightly on end and disheveled as if she’d been working all day. Amir closed her eyes as Loch pulled pieces forward toward her face.

  “Are you doing this to drive me crazy?” Amir asked, looking down at Loch’s mouth, her voice a low scrape. “Because it’s working.”

  “No.” Loch smiled and swiped a bit of dirt from the ground across Amir’s cheek with her thumb. “That’s just a bonus.”

  Loch moved Amir until she was leaning against the tailgate, arms resting on the top edge on both sides.

  “Okay,” she said, her face disappearing behind the lens of the camera. “Eyes to the right. Look into the sun.”

  When Loch finally convinced Amir to stop laughing, she got a few great pictures, then suddenly, she put the camera down and let it hang from the strap around her neck.

  “I’m starving. Feel like getting something to eat?”

  Amir smiled. “Now that’s what I’ve been waiting to hear.”

  It was almost evening when Loch finally got home and burst through the door just in time to pick up her cellphone that she’d heard ringing as she got to the steps outside the house.

  “Hey, Skye,” she said, holding the phone to her ear and flopping her camera and lens bag on the couch as she passed. “I feel like I haven
’t talked to you forever.”

  “That’s because you haven’t,” her sister said, her words falling out in a rush. “I was at that swim meets on the Connecticut meet tour,…and Mom decided not to tell me what happened to Samia until I came back this morning. I could kill her.”

  “I had no idea you didn’t know. I should have called you. How did you do at the meet?”

  “I won,” she said. “But that’s not important. How are you doing about Samia? Mom said you left New York.”

  “Yeah.” Loch sighed, the screen door slapping shut behind her as she walked back out onto the porch and sank down on the porch step. “She left me her house in Innis Harbor, and I’m trying to figure out what to do with it, but being here is actually not that bad. I needed to get out of the city for a while anyway.”

  “I miss you already, but I’m glad you did. I don’t know how you’re not completely burned out.”

  “I think I have been for a while, I just didn’t realize it.” Loch kicked her shoes off and pressed her bare feet against the sun-warmed porch step, looking out at the endless blue water on the other side of the harbor.

  “When do you have to be back?”

  “I don’t know.” Loch closed her eyes as the breeze brushed her hair away from her face. “I guess I need to call my agent at some point and find out.”

  Skye was quiet for a moment, and Loch knew she was winding her hair around her finger, something she’d always done when she thought, even as a toddler. “You’re thinking about staying there, aren’t you?”

  “What? I couldn’t even if I wanted to,” Loch said. “I can’t just walk away from everything.”

  “Why the fuck not?”

  “I’m supposed to be at London Fashion Week next month, and I’m still under contract with Hermes for the fall show at the Grande Palais before the Cannes Film Festival.” Loch suddenly felt like crying for some stupid reason and stopped for a second to take a breath. “I’ll be fine, I just need to get my head around it again.”