"No way," said Jack.
"Mmmm!" Roberta's eyes twinkled with envious delight.
Mariah and Willa giggled. The boys made gagging noises.
Hall's cheeks were bright pink but his voice was steady, his demeanor cool. "There was something wrong with her front door that first morning. He was there to fix it."
The girls' giggles grew louder and Hall shot them a stern look.
"She's earned the right," said Roberta defiantly. "She's been alone a long time. She's a young woman. Why shouldn't she take a lover?"
"You talk like an old fool." Claudia was rhythmically shredding the paper placemats at the table. "If you can't see he isn't of her class, then perhaps it's time you had your bifocals adjusted, Roberta Morgan."
Roberta glowered at her friend. "And I suppose you never tucked Lady Chatterley's Lover under your mattress."
"And I suppose most of you fine folk went to church this morning," Warren said, lighting up a cigar. "Wonder how Father Luedtke feels about this kind of talk."
"The truth is the truth," Claudia shot back. "There's nothing uncharitable about it."
"Sounds to me like the lot of you need to find yourselves a hobby. There are better ways to spend your time than speculating about a man you just met." His disappointment was painfully clear. "Now I could sit here and tell you everything you need to know about that boy and you would feel damn sorry you ever sat judgment on him the way you just did but that wouldn't be fair to him. His story is his to share and I'm not about to break his trust."
Hall Talbot pushed back his chair. It was clear he'd had enough. "It's late," he said, reaching for the check in the middle of the table. "I'd better take the girls home. Tomorrow's going to be a busy day." The town's Labor Day picnic began on the Green at noon and no parent worth his or her salt dared forget it.
Willa and Mariah leaped to their feet. "Can we play video games before we go to sleep?" Mariah asked.
"Sure," said Hall with a nod to the group assembled there. "Whatever you want."
The doctor had barely reached the cash register before Susan leaned across the table to grill Warren.
"So where do you know this Sam Butler from?" she asked.
Claudia glared at her daughter. "Don't be rude, Susan. You heard Warren. It's none of our business."
"You saw the way they looked at each other," Susan said. "I'd say it's going to be everybody's business by tomorrow morning."
So that's the way the wind blows, thought Warren as he surveyed the scene.
For a small town, things could sure get complicated in a hurry.
He hoped Sam and Annie were smart enough to turn off the phones.
#
They kissed at stoplights, at street signs, and once they even pulled over to the side of the road and kissed until they couldn't breathe any more.
"Damn stick shift," Sam muttered as they tried to find a viable position.
Annie gasped as his hand slid under her skirt. "The seat reclines."
They struggled with the lever and got nowhere.
"My place," she said, hands trembling as she clutched the wheel.
"Fast," Sam said. He sounded desperate. She never knew how much she liked that quality in a man.
He plucked the lacy edge of her panties with his big hands and she nearly drove off the road.
"I can't drive when you do that." Or think. Or breathe.
"You're wet," he said, his voice low and urgent.
They were twenty feet away from her driveway but it might as well have been twenty miles. She hit the brakes hard. He braced an arm against the dashboard to keep from shooting through the windshield. She shut off the engine and turned to him with the hunger burning in her eyes and he said, "Jesus," and reached for her and suddenly the stick shift wasn't a problem or the seat that refused to recline.
She told him what she wanted and how and then she told him that this time there would be no sudden stops, no turning back.
She straddled him and unzipped his pants.
He pulled off her panties and crushed the damp fabric in his hand then brought them to his face.
She stroked him fast and hard, letting him fill her hand.
He grabbed her by the waist and lifted her and she slowly slowly opened for him engulfed him drew him deep inside her body and she cried out first with the newness of it and then with something else, something she had forgotten existed.
She shuddered when she climaxed and the rhythmic contractions of her body pushed him over the edge.
And still it wasn't enough. They left the car where it was. Still kissing and touching, still hungry for each other, they stumbled up the driveway. They reached the porch steps and he swept her up into his arms and carried her up the three steps to the front door.
"The front door's always open in the movies," he said, while she leaned over to fit the key into the lock.
"You should've kicked it in," she said, kissing his chin, his throat, his chest. "Very macho."
"Too soon to repeat myself." He carried her through the dimly lit hallway to the tiny bedroom with the huge sleigh bed and the open window and the moonlight.
And then the magic took over. Clothes slid off the way they did in the movies. The bed sighed sweetly beneath the weight of their bodies. She opened herself to him in heart, soul, and body. He filled the empty spaces inside her heart and in so doing filled the empty spaces inside his own heart as well.
Somewhere out there was the world they knew and the people they loved but right now none of it mattered. This bed was world enough for both of them.
#
"You folks have been a lot of fun," Gloria said, "but we're closing up now. Hate to break up a good time but you know how it is."
"Good Lord," said Roberta, glancing at her narrow gold watch. "It's almost ten o'clock!" She flashed her best smile at Warren. "Time flies when you're having fun."
Warren always did have an eye for the women and he flashed her a damn good smile right back. "Kind of you to put up with an old man's stories, Bobbi."
Roberta laughed, one of those throaty chuckles that made Claudia want to hit her in the head with a skillet. "We go way back," she said, practically batting her eyelashes at the old fool. "You know what they say: old friends are the best."
Susan and Jack corraled their boys and the lot of them stepped out into the crisp night air.
"Goodnight, Ma." Susan hugged her briefly. "We'll pick you up at noon for the picnic."
Claudia sniffed and refused to hug her back. That innocent act simply wouldn't wash. Her daughter had had a hand in this debacle. It was clear as the nose on her face.
Jack beeped the horn.
"Gotta run," Susan said. She waved to Warren and Roberta and was gone.
Claudia turned and started toward Roberta's car. Warren fell into step with her.
"Hang on too tight and you'll lose her," he said quietly. "Don't make that mistake, Claudia."
"If I want your opinion, Warren Bancroft, I'll ask for it. Until then, keep those bromides to yourself."
Roberta coughed delicately behind them and Claudia reined in her emotions.
"It's late," Warren said. "I'll follow you two ladies home, if you'd like."
Roberta thought it was a charming idea. Claudia was deeply insulted but she kept her opinion to herself. The headlights of Warren's ridiculous old Jeep followed them over the bridge, up Main Street, around the curve, right into the driveway of the house Claudia had shared with her beloved husband.
"Don't forget to bring the deviled eggs tomorrow," Roberta said as Claudia climbed from the car. "And Peggy wants her Tupperware serving bowl back."
Labor Day was a major holiday for the various tradespeople and volunteer workers of Shelter Rock Cove. Shops on Main Street threw open their doors and sponsored contests and giveaways and generally said thanks to the town for supporting them all year long. The various volunteer groups – DAR, Lions Club, fire department, and the like – sponsored a giant picnic/barbecue on the town green tha
t started at noon and ended after the fireworks display many hours later.
Claudia said goodnight and didn't so much as glance over her shoulder at Warren. Back straight, head held high, she walked up the curving driveway and let herself into her house. She closed the door behind her, turned the locks, then set the alarm. The children had insisted on the alarm system, even though it seemed foolish to Claudia. We worry, they had said to her. A woman living alone should have an alarm system.
They were always telling her something. Get an alarm system. Get a dog. Move to a condo . . . a retirement complex . . . a nursing home. That's the way it went. Once you gave in to the first request, your independence began to fall like a line of dominoes.
She leaned against the door for a moment and closed her eyes. She saw Annie and Kevin on their wedding day, so young and filled with hope. She saw them the day they moved into their first house, short on money but long on happiness and plans for the future. She saw them together year after year and something began to take shape, a darkness she'd never allowed to enter the picture before. The pinched look around Annie's mouth. The exhaustion in Kevin's eyes. The silences between them that spoke louder than words.
"I wish you were here with me, Johnny," she said aloud.
But, as usual, he didn't answer.
#
Hall poured himself a tumbler of scotch and took it out onto the deck. He sat down on one of the three Adirondack chairs he'd had specially made and rested his feet on the railing. The Scotch was old and mellow and it burned its way smoothly down his throat.
Too bad it couldn't burn away the memory of Annie's face as she walked out of Cappy's hand in hand with the Boy from New York City.
He raised his glass high in a salute to bad timing.
He'd waited out her marriage and her widowhood. For two years he bided his time, sensitive to her feelings, aware of her family's expectations, waiting for the right moment to finally make his move, only to come in a day late. Hell, not even a day. Twelve hours. That was all. Twelve goddamn hours too late and all because some guy comes riding into town with the stink of newness all over him and that's all she wrote.
He'd never seen her look that way, not even on the day she married Kevin. She'd looked nervous on her wedding day, painfully young, alarmingly innocent. It was clear to everyone standing there that she was marrying the family as well as the man.
But the girl was long gone. She knew life didn't always play fair and that happy endings were found in books, not real life. She knew all of those things and more and yet she looked at that raggedy son-of-a-bitch like he'd hung the moon.
He took another gulp of scotch and waited for the fire to build in his gut.
That nagging memory still tugged at him. A sense of familiarity he couldn't define. He knew this Sam Butler from somewhere but he couldn't seem to place him. The guy looked like he worked the docks but there was no denying the fierce intelligence burning in his eyes. There was something about the man that made you want to take a step backward to put some space between you.
It hadn't been that way with Kevin Galloway. Kevin had greeted the world with open arms, even as he shielded his obsession from the eyes of the town. This new guy had none of Kevin's heft and presence. None of his poetry. Kevin was as flawed as they come but it had never been hard to understand what Annie saw in him.
Sam Butler was from New York. You could hear it in his voice. That odd little glottal stop that pegged some New Yorkers as incontrovertibly as a strand of DNA. But it was more than that. Was it possible he'd met Butler somewhere along the way, at a party maybe or some other social gathering? He couldn't imagine the circumstances where their worlds would intersect but he'd long ago learned that anything was possible. After all, it had already happened.
#
"Don't say it," Susan warned, as she and Jack got ready for bed. "If you value our marriage, you won't say one single word."
Jack tossed the damp towel into the hamper and grinned at his wife. "Told you so."
She glanced around for something moderately lethal to heave in his direction but everything in the tiny bathroom was either bolted down or too grungy to consider. "We don't really know anything," she said, slipping her cotton nightgown over her head. "So what if she left with him. All she was doing was trying to slip away before Hall asked her out again." She padded into their bedroom with her husband close behind. "You can't blame her for taking the first escape route that presented itself."
Jack pulled off the comforter and tossed it on the slipper chair near the window. "You don't really believe that crap, do you?"
She sank down onto the bed. "No," she said miserably. "I don't."
The mattress dipped as he sat down next to her. "What's the real problem here, Susie? It isn't Annie at all, is it."
"You're a grease monkey," she said, sniffling back her tears. "You're not supposed to be so perceptive."
"So what is it," he persisted. "You jealous?"
"I don't get it," she said. "You couldn't find your socks if they stood up and saluted at you in the morning, but you always know exactly what's wrong with me."
"I don't love my socks."
She couldn't withhold a smile. "You old sweet talker. You always could charm me with poetry."
He whispered something in her ear that did more than charm her.
"Maybe," she said. "I'll think about it."
"Might be fun."
"Might be." She leaned against him and rested her head on his shoulder. "She looked so happy," she whispered. "They looked so much in love."
"We're in love."
"Not like that."
"No," he said, "not like that. We were like that twenty years ago. Now we're like this."
"I miss the way we used to be."
"So do I."
She looked up at him. "You do?"
"With work and the kids and everything else –" He shook his head. "Sometimes I feel like I'm losing you in the crowd."
"Yes! That's it, that's exactly the way I feel, like I'm calling your name in a crowd and you just don't seem to hear me."
"I hear you now, Susie. I'm right here next to you and I hear you."
"What if he hurts her," she whispered as they lay down on the bed they'd shared for so long. "She doesn't have any idea what it's like out there."
"Was it so good with Kevin?"
Susan froze. "What did you say?"
"I loved him, Suz, but your brother wasn't perfect."
"Meaning what?"
Jack sighed. "Forget I said anything."
"No," she said, suddenly angry. "I won't forget. Tell me what you're talking about."
"His gambling."
She made a face. "That was never a real problem."
"Open your eyes, Suz. Take a look at Annie. She didn't sell the big house because she was tired of the view. She sold it because he left her with nothing."
"You don't know that."
"I know what I see."
"She wanted to start fresh," Susan said, trying to ignore the hollow ringing of her words. "She was rattling around in that big old barn all by herself."
The expression on Jack's face was so sad – and so knowing – that it brought her up short.
"I think you're wrong," she said as the fight drained out of her. "Kevin was a wonderful husband. They were the happiest couple I've ever seen. Nobody will ever make her as happy as Kevin made her."
But how happy was that really? No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't come up with examples to prove her thesis, not unless she went back fifteen years or more. Annie threw herself into making the flower shop a success and the hours she worked became a source of debate within the family. Of course everyone knew teachers didn't make huge salaries, even if Kevin was the most gifted English teacher the town had ever seen. He worked long hours too, meeting with parents and children after the school day ended, giving workshops and taking classes on the weekends. The wonder was that he and Annie ever saw each other at all. How many family g
atherings had they had to decline because Kevin was out of town or Annie was too swamped with work to break away? After a while everyone had lost count. Invitations to the big old Victorian house dwindled until they became once or twice yearly occasions.
Was that happiness? She had no answer to that question.
"We can't stop her," he said, stroking her hair. "Annie deserves some happiness and she won't find it if she doesn't take a few chances."
He was right. She knew he was right. But the thought of Annie out there somewhere with a man who wasn't family sent a chill of foreboding through Susan and not even Jack's warm kisses could make it go away.
#
Warren sat in his library with a glass of brandy in his hand and poor old Max asleep at his feet. It was a few minutes after midnight and unless he missed his guess Max would be spending the night.
"You can sleep at the foot of the bed," he told the dog, "and Nancy will make you bacon and eggs for breakfast."
The yellow Lab looked up at him with mournful eyes.
"Don't worry," Warren said, reaching down to pet the old guy on the scruff of his neck. "He hasn't abandoned you." That was one thing Sam Butler never did, even if the boy didn't quite believe it himself yet.
He heard himself and started to laugh. Now did that beat all? There he was, the man who was on the cover of last month's Forbes, trying to explain love to a dog who drank water from the toilet bowl. Hell, he had himself a nerve trying to explain love to anybody since he knew so damn little about it. He knew love complicated matters. He knew that when it went wrong it made a man's life a living hell.
And he also knew that without it, nothing much else mattered.
Were Sam and Annie in love? He wasn't sure. They'd barely known each other three days but stranger things had happened in a lot less time. His own parents had met on Sunday and married on Monday and spent the next thirty years telling the tale.
He hoped they were happy. He hoped they would be kind to each other. He hoped that if it didn't work out they would each be left with hearts that were better off for the experience.
Patience wasn't his long suit but he would do his best. He had brought them together. There was nothing more he could do. Nobody yet had found a way to make love happen when it wasn't meant to.
A Soft Place to Fall (Shelter Rock Cove) Page 18
