by Karen M Cox
He turned in the opposite direction, jogging toward the state park and its winding paths. The humid air was like liquid in his lungs, and he was already sweating. Long legs took graceful strides all around the park, until he figured he’d gotten in a couple of miles. While he ran, he mused about how to fix things up with Laurel. Odd how it was so important to him that they clear the air. He told himself it was because he worked with her and the summer would go a lot more smoothly if they got along. That didn’t necessarily mean he wanted to date her. No matter what Stuart said, she was technically still a high school girl in James’s mind, and he avoided those like the plague. He couldn’t take the giggling.
But then again, Laurel was a different sort of girl. For one thing, he’d known her for years. For another, he had yet to hear her giggle. He guessed that working and living at her father’s marina all her life had made her levelheaded — and more mature than a lot of the girls he knew at college. Somehow, she’d also gotten very pretty. So should he reconsider asking her out? He realized he liked her — a lot. If she was willing, maybe he should get to know her better.
He rounded the next bend and came by the playground swing set when he saw someone else up as early as he was. Sitting in a swing, staring at her feet was the object of his morning musings. He could hardly believe his luck. They would get to talk before work.
James stopped in his tracks, and the sound of feet skidding in the gravel caused her to look up. Her face held no expression; she just looked him up and down. He raised a hand in greeting and settled himself into the swing beside her.
“Hi.”
“Hi.” Her voice was soft.
“Did you sleep well?”
She laughed softly. “You sound like my grandfather. His main concern in life was that everyone slept well. Actually, no I didn’t — did you?”
“Not particularly, no.”
“That’s why you’re up so early today?”
“I like to run early. It settles me — so I don’t make stupid mistakes and silly assumptions during the day.”
“Oh?” She looked confused.
“I didn’t get to run yesterday. That must have been what happened.”
“Oh?” Laurel shook her head, still not comprehending.
“Last night — my silly assumptions and stupid mistakes.”
She waited.
“That song I chose for the open mike . . . ”
“Yes?”
“Stuart said that somehow I gave you the impression that I wanted to ask out Virginia, when the truth was . . . ”
Her head shot up, and she gave him a sharp look.
“I was more interested in seeing you . . . I mean, seeing that you didn’t get your feelings hurt.”
She tilted her head, her eyes full of questions.
“You spent all day with Stuart, and I thought you and he . . . ”
“Oh!” She gave an exasperated sigh. “We were talking about Ginny. He wants to go see her at college, and I wasn’t sure it was such a good idea.”
“Why not? Does she have a boyfriend?”
“No, she’s just busy. Her class is winding down, and she needs to study. I’m not sure a distraction from that is a good thing right now.”
“You sound like her mother. Are you your sister’s keeper?” he asked with a smile.
“We’re each other’s keepers,” she replied with emphasis. “Ever since that stupid boyfriend of hers spread all those rumors a couple of years ago, Virginia and I watch each other’s backs.”
James dug the toe of his shoe into the dirt below the swing. “Yeah, Stuart told me about the asshole boyfriend yesterday. I didn’t know about it.”
“She got rid of him pretty quick after he said those things. It made me think twice about dating any of the guys around here, I’ll tell you that.”
She stopped. “Wait a minute. You thought Stuart was interested in me?”
“You sound surprised.”
She looked back at the ground and pushed herself back and forth with her foot. “Usually guys are interested in Virginia rather than me, and I just assumed you were too.”
“Maybe you assume wrong. I recommend running to help with that.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “I can definitely see why a guy would want to ask you out.”
She smiled at him just as the sun popped out from over the hill across the lake, blinding and warming him at the same time. Her hair blazed like copper fire under the spell of red and orange dawn. Words tumbled out of his mouth, unplanned and unfamiliar.
“Are you allowed to date?”
“You mean go out places, to movies and dinner and things?”
He nodded.
“Well, yeah, I guess. It’s never really come up before.”
“So when you said you don’t date guys from around here . . . ”
“Here is the only place I’ve ever been. All the guys I know are either tourists or locals.”
“So you mean . . . ”
“Besides,” she interrupted, “my parents need me to work at home a lot, and well . . . nobody’s ever asked me except for school dances.”
“Now I’m surprised.”
She blushed and changed the subject. “I’ve been meaning to ask you— when did you learn to play the guitar?”
“I guess I started when I was about sixteen. I needed a way to combat the ‘angry young man’ syndrome.”
“You were an angry young man?”
He nodded.
“That’s hard to believe.”
“All young men are angry about something or other.”
“Even you, huh?”
His smile dimmed. “I’ve had my moments. Music helps me forget them.”
“Oh.” She dragged her toe across the dirt under the swing. “Did you take lessons or just learn on your own?”
“A little of both. I started with acoustic, but I play a little electric now and then as well. I’m in this band, and we play local gigs around Dayton.”
“When do you have time to study?”
James tried to keep from laughing. He never studied, but it wouldn’t do to have a freshman think that’s how one got through college. “We mostly play on weekends.”
“Shh, be still!”
The unexpected order surprised him until he followed her eyes and watched as a butterfly floated down and landed gently on his thumb that was wrapped around the chain of the swing. “Well, would you look at that?” he ventured, watching the creature rhythmically fold and unfold its wings. “Do you know what kind it is? Is it a monarch?”
She squinted at it. “Don’t move, so I can get a good look at it.” She paused. “No, it’s a Viceroy I think–Limenitis archippus.”
He raised his eyebrows at her, and she broke into a smile. “Binomial nomenclature is a hobby of my father’s. When I was a little girl, I followed him everywhere around this marina. He taught me a lot of the birds and butterflies that are native here.” She watched the butterfly until it flew off. “Find wonder in all things, even the most pedestrian,” she said, her voice soft and thoughtful.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s a quote from Carl Linnaeus, the botanist. He developed the system of classifying plants and animals. He’s the father of modern ecology and my father’s idol.” She smiled and looked back at James.
“So your father knows a lot about the flora and fauna around here?”
“He was going to be a biology professor, but he never finished grad school. My dad loves the outdoors — studying the animals, the insects, the plants. In fact, all us girls are named for wildflowers found in the Appalachians.”
“Laurel? Okay, I’ve heard of that. Laurel what?”
“Laurel’s my middle name.”
His eyebrow rose while he waited.
She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Mountain Laurel.”
He grinned. “Aha. Very beautiful. But ‘Virginia?’ That’s a state.”
“Virginia Bluebell.”
James snorted.
&nbs
p; “And, before you ask, our baby sister’s name is Spring Violet.”
“What are the boys named for?”
“Singers in the 1960’s. Dylan, for Bob Dylan, and Crosby, for David Crosby.”
“What did your mother have to say about all this?”
“Nothing. She pretty much lets Daddy have his way about those kinds of things.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes.
“You working tonight?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
“Yep. You?”
He nodded.
“Well I suppose I best get back.” She stood up, stilling the swing with her hands. “Mom will want me to help with the kids’ breakfasts, and you probably want to take a shower. You know there’s a public shower up at the marina, don’t you?”
“Yeah, Stu showed me yesterday. I suppose I should get back too. He might be awake by now, and we’re heading into town. I gotta go to the bank and open up an account.”
“If he’s leaving early to drive up and see Ginny, you won’t have a ride.”
“Hmm, I guess you’re right.”
“If he can’t take you, I will.”
“It’s a deal.” He stood up, holding out his hand.
She laughed and reached out, but after they shook, he didn’t let her go.
Slowly, hand in hand, they began the descent back to the marina and boat dock. Traffic had picked up while they were gone. Cars with trailers and fishing boats were lined up three and four deep, waiting to put into the water for the day.
“Will your father care?”
“If I take you to the bank?” She shook her head. “No, I can borrow his pick-up almost anytime I want.”
He slowed his pace and swung their hands up, holding hers against the center of his chest. “I meant will he mind if we go out somewhere?”
“If you’ve got no car, where are we supposed to go?” Her voice was a little breathless, but there was a touch of amusement under the disbelief.
James grinned down at her. “What about if I’m holding your hand while we walk? Will he care about that?”
“Worried about getting fired?”
He laughed. “A little, yeah.”
“Don’t worry. Daddy’s not like that. If my mother finds out on the other hand, watch out.” She smiled, but James caught the distinct note of warning in her words. He wondered about Mrs. Elliot. People rarely saw her, but he’d heard stories about her from Stuart’s mother over the years. She kept to herself at the log house that Walter Elliot built for his family above the marina. She raised an organic garden, preserved food by canning and drying, and sewed the kids’ clothes; except for a monthly trip into the town grocery store, she didn’t frequent any of the shops in town. There was no evidence she had friends outside the family either, which Mrs. Pendleton thought was odd, given how outgoing the rest of the Elliots were.
By the time he had thought all this through, they had reached the dock.
“I gotta go back up this way.”
“Sorry, I guess I could have walked you to your driveway.”
“No worries — I can make it on my own. Been doing it for years, Sir Galahad.”
“I’m sure you have.” He smiled at the ironic choice of words — Galahad, a symbol of gallantry and purity, and just about the last words he’d ever use to describe himself.
“See you tonight then.”
She took off, but he kept hold of her hand, forcing her to turn and face him. He pulled her close and looked at her. James wasn’t short by any stretch of the imagination, but he could almost look her square in the eye. He squeezed her hand and smiled.
“Bye, Mountain Laurel.”
She grinned and took off up the ramp.
Chapter 4
“Hey there, you . . . son . . . boy . . . What’s his name again?” Phil the shift manger was annoyed with his memory lapse, but the summer staff came and went like yesterday’s burgers. How was he supposed to remember them all?
“James,” Darlene the waitress said over her shoulder as she passed by with a coffeepot in her hand, cracking her gum.
“James!” Phil didn’t shout in the restaurant — that would be rude — but his booming voice carried across the room to the busboy, standing idly in the doorway with a goofy look on his face. “Table 12 left five minutes ago. Clean it off already.”
James jumped, embarrassed that he had been caught once again being inattentive. In truth, he was being very attentive, just not to his job. He hurried over to table 12 with his dish bin, casting surreptitious glances at Laurel as she moved between tables, smiling, taking orders, and generally being the light of the place. She winked at him, and he turned back to his task, grinning. After five days of giving Mrs. Elliot the full-court press, Laurel had convinced her mother to let him take her out on a real date. That night they would finally go somewhere besides the walking paths around the state park next door. Granted, it was just to a burger joint and a movie, but still it was ‘out.’
After that first day, James was alone on the houseboat. Stuart spent all his time wooing Virginia at her university about an hour away. The official story was that Stuart stayed with friends, but James had a feeling those friends rarely saw him. In fact, James wouldn’t be surprised if Stuart bailed out on his parents’ trip to Europe.
Unfortunately, when Stu left, so did his wheels, and that meant James had been confined to the marina for almost a week. Phil or Mr. Elliot would take him to the bank when he needed to go, but bank and store errands weren’t the same as going out for a night of fun. He couldn’t very well ask Mr. Elliot to drive him around on a date with his own daughter! So the day before, Laurel asked her dad to borrow his truck and vowed she would drive.
She sidled up behind him, and he knew she was there without even turning around. She smelled like iced tea with a whiff of honeysuckle underneath. He breathed deeply and smiled.
“Daddy gave me permission to stay out late,” she murmured as she dropped some silverware in his tub. “Till one o’clock.”
“Even then, I don’t think we’ll have enough time for both a dinner and a movie.”
“Well then, let’s skip the dinner and just hit the drive-in.”
He raised his eyebrows at her. Didn’t she know what went on at drive-ins?
“And don’t get any ideas, Marshall. I don’t know you that well.”
He laughed. “Yes, ma’am.” He liked that forthright innocence she had about her — like she was naïve but still in charge of her own fate. “So, I’ll meet you up at your house about 10:30. I gotta take a shower first.”
“No . . . I’ll come down. Just meet me here.”
“Laurel, are you sure your father okayed this? I don’t want to have to look for another job tomorrow.”
“Oh, absolutely. It’s fine with Daddy. It’s just Mama.”
He frowned. “What did I do to get on her bad side?” Mrs. Elliot hadn’t shown up anywhere on the marina since he’d been there. Usually mothers waited to meet him before taking an active dislike.
“That’s not it. She’s just not feeling well and won’t want any company up at the house.”
“Nothing serious, I hope.”
Laurel bit her lip. “Oh no, she’ll be fine.” Her voice indicated that she didn’t want to discuss it anymore, and she gave him a weak smile. He decided not to press the issue. Whatever was going on with her mother, she would tell him when she was ready. He looked over at the kitchen door and saw Mr. Elliot watching them. The man had the most unnerving stare, not unlike his daughter.
“Okay, but come down to the boat if you don’t mind. I don’t want to be one of those creepy guys standing out under the street lights beside the dock.”
She laughed. “Fine.” She disappeared into the kitchen, giving her father a bright smile as she sailed past.
* * *
James was ready when Laurel knocked on the houseboat door and called to him.
“Come in,” he called back, putting his wallet in his back p
ocket and picking up his boat key off the coffee table.
She opened the door and stepped in, looking around the place. “It’s different than I remember. The Pendletons must have redecorated since I was here last.”
“What? Oh . . . yeah, I guess. Hey, you want a Coke or something?”
She turned and eyed him up and down in a frank assessment of his appearance that made his ears burn. He had no idea how a girl who’d never been on a date before could make a guy like him blush, so he decided to turn the tables on her.
“You look pretty.” And she did. Blue jean cutoffs and a green v-neck tee showed off her svelte figure to its best advantage. Her hair tumbled in slightly damp curls about her face and shoulders. She did that girl-next-door look very well.
That seemed to unnerve her a bit, but she managed to mutter a, “Thank you. You look real nice too.”
“Are you set then?”
Laurel nodded. “I’m glad you don’t have some stupid idea that the guy always has to drive.”
“I gave up stupid ideas the night I came here, remember? Besides, a guy without a car takes a ride wherever he can find it.” He turned back to lock the door and they started off toward the shore, walking in silence along the dock.
“I’m saving for a car. Blew up the motor in my other one — driving too fast.”
“How fast were you going?” she asked, brows raised.
“Hundred fifteen.” He looked down, a bit embarrassed.
“James! That’s so dangerous! Gosh, you’re lucky you didn’t really hurt yourself. Driving like that on the mountain roads around here will get you killed.”
“Don’t worry; I learned my lesson. I’ve been hoofing it for a year and a half now, and I can’t wait until I can afford another set of wheels. I’ll take care of the car this time.” His grin had a touch of mischief in it.
