Newport Dreams: A Breakwater Bay Novella
Page 5
Geordie leaned back against the seat, closed her eyes and breathed in the fresh air. There was something about the air around the ocean, the sun over water, something she’d like to capture with her camera, the sight, the taste, the smell, the feel. All through the lens. She knew she could do it. That was her passion. It just didn’t pay the rent.
And would never satisfy her parents.
“What?”
Geordie opened her eyes and looked over at Carlyn. “What about what?”
“News alert. Humongous sigh from the passenger seat. Or was that a snore?”
Geordie laughed. “I guess it was a sigh.”
“Good or bad sigh? Or a none-of-my-business sigh?”
“Oh, good. I guess. Just taking in the freedom.”
“Huh. Riding in an old clunker make you feel free?”
Geordie shifted to face Carlyn. “It does today. Anyway it’s a classy old clunker.”
Carlyn grinned at her. “I guess you had a rough week. You’ll get your chops down soon. Don’t know why Bruce Stafford is being such a jerk to you. Doug says he’s under a lot of pressure.”
Geordie snorted. “From what?” She bet he didn’t have a family that totally disapproved of his choice of professions. There was nothing wrong with being an architect. There was nothing wrong with being a photographer either.
“Money, I think. If you haven’t noticed, none of us will retire with a pension. Hell, none of us will ever be able to retire, period.”
“Do you ever think about doing something else? I mean you could get a job in finance and make a lot more.”
“Meri would kill me if I tried to leave.” Carlyn grinned. “She’d probably even kick me out of our karaoke group.”
“You stay just for her?”
“God, no. I love it. It’s a pain in my butt trying to raise enough money, but it’s addictive. You should see our other houses. Doug used to be a great conservator, engineer, painter, carpenter. Amazing.
“What happened to him?”
“Fell through a second-story floor, broke his leg and hip in several places. He’s pinned together. Will never go up another ladder. At least not to work. So he struck out on his own. Finds the buildings. Convinces someone to bankroll him enough to get started, then I go in and try to drum up support while Meri and everyone else works like nutcases to make silk purses out of some really butt-ugly sow’s ears. It’s the best job in the world.”
“I guess you like it a little.”
“Yep.”
Geordie saw the sign for the bridge across the Sakonnet River. She closed her eyes. Not relaxed this time, but clearing her head of all thoughts, breathing deeply until they were across.
They turned south and drove along a county road, passed through the little town of Tiverton and into farm country. Some fields were still green, some were just turning golden or brown. Some were mown, and some were still ripening, their stalks crowded and swaying as one in the ocean breeze. The air was tangy with salt and Geordie was sure she could hear the rush of the waves on the shore.
It wasn’t long before they turned down a long drive that led between grassy dunes toward two houses. The nearest one was several stories tall, dark shingled, with alcoves and heavy eaves, a Gothic menace that even the sunlight couldn’t brighten.
She was relieved when Carlyn drove past it and pulled into the next drive. She stopped in front of a stone-and-clapboard farmhouse. Meri’s car was already parked at the far side.
“Welcome to Calder Farm,” Carlyn said. “Isn’t it fabulous?”
“It is.”
An older woman came to the door and waved as they got out of the car.
“Hey Gran.” Carlyn leaned forward to give the woman a kiss. “This is Geordie. She just came to work with the team. Geordie this is Therese Calder, Meri’s grandmother. We all call her Gran.”
Geordie stuck out her hand.
“Welcome Geordie,” Therese said, shaking her hand. Then held it long enough to give it a pat. She was a tall woman, not old, not young, or maybe both. Geordie could practically see the stories written in the fine lines created by her smile. She itched to get out her camera.
“Thank you for having me, Mrs. Calder.”
“You’re very welcome. And you can certainly call me Gran. I don’t know if I’d answer to my own name around Meri’s friends.” She released Geordie’s hand. “Make yourself at home.”
“Where’s Meri?” Carlyn asked as they walked into a cozy, sweet-smelling kitchen.
“She took an apple pie over the way, to Alden. Don’t worry, I made two. She’ll be coming back; I’m sure she heard your car. Take your things upstairs to the guest bedroom to change if you’re planning to swim.”
“You know we are. This might be the last swim of the season.” Carlyn planted another kiss on Therese Calder’s cheek; Geordie smiled at her and followed Carlyn up the stairs.
Meri was waiting for them in the kitchen when they came down dressed for the beach, and in Geordie’s case, laden with her camera bag. She planned to get some good shots today.
She’d spent way too many years wasting time in the sun and surf with drinks and men without taking a single photo.
Mrs. Calder handed Meri a cooler of food and a thermos of iced tea and watched from the door as they crossed the dunes.
Geordie glanced back, and Mrs. Calder waved. Geordie could feel the love between Meri and her grandmother, and Therese Calder—Gran—managed to spread it to Carlyn and Geordie. It was pretty cool.
Meri led the way down an eroded sand path between tall grasses and sea roses. It took some concentration not to slide all the way to the water, and Geordie was a little winded when they finally arrived on a small half moon sheltered on one side by the dunes and on the ocean side by the rocks of a breakwater that curved from the headland. The sun was warm and the waves were tame.
They stood on a patch of soft white sand.
To their left the beach gradually became coarser until it turned into pebbles that became darker and a bit foreboding. Behind it, the roof of the Gothic mansion rose above the dunes, evocative and a little scary. To the right a clump of sea roses led to a point where the land joined the breakwater.
“This is an amazing place,” Geordie said. “Is it all your family’s, Meri?”
“Yeah,” Meri said and flicked her eyes toward the menacing Gothic house. “Well, we share it with Alden, but he’s like family.”
As they spread out their towels, Geordie wondered if they would catch a glimpse of the eccentric neighbor before they left. She pulled off her top and jeans and lay back. There was hardly any breeze on the sheltered beach and the sun beat down, warming her, as she watched the clouds drift overhead.
She hadn’t been aware of how really tense she’d been until she felt herself melt into the contours of the sand, her muscles grow heavy and her eyelids began to droop. It had been a stressful week.
Between working late to satisfy the ogre architect and lying awake worried about her future, she was bone tired. And now that she finally had the chance to relax, the adrenalin that had kept her going fled and she was left with a sense of peace.
It wouldn’t last. Nothing ever did, but for now . . .
Meri and Carolyn lay beside her, eyes closed, both in their own worlds, or maybe asleep.
One woman, dark haired with fair skin, slightly ethereal, the other colorful and robust—the odd couple and great friends. Carlyn’s energy calm as she sprawled face up in the sun, stripped down to a string bikini. Meri’s energy creating an aura around her even as she lay on an old beach blanket, her bikini covered with a zipped hoodie and her legs bare to the sun.
Geordie automatically reached for her camera. Knew if she started whirring away, the mood would be destroyed.
“I’m going to take some shots of the dunes,” she said.
&nbs
p; Carlyn languidly raised a hand. Meri opened her eyes and turned her head enough to see her. “Have fun.”
“I will.” Geordie headed for the dunes. They formed a wall behind the beach and were covered with green shrubs and tall grasses so green and vibrant that it took her breath away. The sun drifted behind one of the white puffy clouds overhead, sweeping a change of color over the grasses. And returning to full color a moment later.
Soon she was settled into the whirr, whirr of photographing, and the rest of the world disappeared. She zeroed in on the colors and textures of the dunes. Took close-ups of animal tracks until they turned into pure design. Turned back to capture some candid shots of Meri and Carlyn.
She lay down on the sand propped on one elbow, so that she could aim the camera through a curtain of sticky sea grass at the two women on the beach. The grass created a kind of filter, blurring the figures until they were mere hints of color. Then she sat up and zoomed in just as Carlyn stood up and walked out to the surf. Geordie followed her with the lens.
Carlyn turned back, shielding her eyes with her hand. She saw Geordie and waved. “Come have lunch.”
The mood was broken. Geordie had no idea how long she’d been there taking shots and she felt a bit like a voyeur. She hadn’t even asked if it was okay to photograph them. But wasn’t that the point? To capture the feel without the subject being aware of the camera?
She was stiff. And embarrassed. How rude could she be, to be invited for the day at the beach and then use the friends who invited her as subjects? But Carlyn merely grinned back at her and struck a pose. She got off one more shot and staggered to her feet.
“Get anything good?” Carlyn asked as she plopped down beside her.
“I think so,” Geordie said. Actually she’d taken some terrific shots of both land and friends.
Meri sat up, pulled back her hood and shook out her hair before reaching for the cooler. “We’d better eat this before it gets any later,” she said as she passed out sandwiches and crudité.
“I hope you guys are planning to stay for dinner, because Gran is making her special rosemary chicken and there’s homemade apple pie. I already had a piece at Alden’s and it’s delish.”
“He lives in that big house over there?” Geordie looked back at the peaked roofs of the dark house. Except for a sunporch that overlooked the ocean, it was just as dark as it had been in her first impression. “It’s kind of sinister-looking.”
Meri laughed. “It isn’t. It’s just that Alden lives there alone and works there when he isn’t traveling. He doesn’t really have the time to keep things fixed up. Plus he’s kind of a recluse.”
“Kind of . . . ?” Carlyn laughed. “I’ve never even seen him.”
“Because you never get out here. He’s perfectly fine. Our families have been neighbors for generations. They were actually working farms at one time. He’s been a part of the family for as long as I can remember. I’m glad he’s here to look out for Gran.” Meri smiled and Geordie tried to think back to her childhood and realized she had no idea who lived in any of the huge houses in the neighborhood where she grew up.
Poor little rich girl, she thought and laughed at herself. She had nothing to complain about.
After the lunch and the trash was packed away, Meri stood and shook the sand from her clothes. “I’m going out to the breakers. You can see the whole ocean from there. It’s one of my favorite places. Anyone want to come ?”
Carlyn jumped up, grabbed her sweatshirt, and shoved her feet into sneakers. “You should come, Geordie. It’s a spectacular view. But put on shoes, some of the rocks are sharp.”
Geordie looked out at the black rocks. It looked kind of dangerous, but not all that high. She shrugged back into her sweatshirt, put on her shoes, and fixed the camera strap over her shoulder.
“When the tide comes in you have to wade back to land,” Meri said as they walked single file across the sand. “And in a storm, well, you better get the hell to land, because you’ll be stuck out there for the duration.”
Geordie looked at the sky. It was brilliant blue. But she could imagine.
They followed a narrow pathway through the beach grasses until they reached the rocks, which suddenly loomed taller than their heads. They were a lot larger than they had looked from the beach, Geordie realized. And a lot higher. She felt a familiar tightening of her throat.
Meri began to climb. Carlyn followed her, but Geordie hung back while she imagined a calm, safe place. She pushed her camera behind her as she groped for handholds on the jagged rocks. Focusing on the rough surface of the rocks ahead, she pushed one foot until it found a flat place on the boulder.
The other two were farther ahead of her now and Geordie risked a look up to see how much farther she had to go.
Carlyn was a shadow against the sun, but Meri had climbed to the crest of the jetty and stood feet planted between two boulders, her hair and clothes whipping in a blustery ocean wind.
Geordie hesitated, suddenly longing to be back on the sheltered beach. But when she turned to see how far she had come, the world went out of focus. Her heart began beating frantically, her throat tightened until she couldn’t draw breath.
Dizziness overcame her and she threw herself backward against the hard rock and squeezed her eyes shut. Calm down. Turn around, and climb down.
“Hey, are you coming? Are you stuck?”
She heard Carlyn call her, but her voice seemed far away.
“Are you okay?” Meri’s voice, concerned.
Geordie could only wave them off. Why had she looked back? She’d been fine until then. She grabbed her camera with both hands, saw them shaking, and slid down the rough edge of rock until she was sitting with her back pressed against the hard surface. Steadied the camera and looked through the lens until the dizziness and panic began to subside.
She fought back tears of fear and frustration. It’s not even that high, you dummy. All she needed to do was stand up, follow Carlyn and Meri to the top like anybody else on earth would do. But all she could do was squat there, clutching her camera and staring through the lens at the black hard rock at her feet.
By the time they reached her, she had almost recovered. “Did I miss it? Sorry, I got wrapped up in taking some shots.”
“I’ll say. Get anything good?” Carlyn asked.
She risked a glance at Meri. Meri just smiled back at her.
“Yeah, I think so. Can’t help myself.” She waited for Carlyn and Meri to pass her, jumping from boulder to boulder, then she slid the rest of the way down, clutching her camera and grabbing at handholds, until her feet found soft sand again.
Chapter 6
GEORDIE WAS RIDING on a high when she got to work the next morning. Gran Calder had made her feel so welcome that she forgot her panic on the rocks. The rest of the day had been wonderful. Dinner was simple and delicious, served at the old kitchen table with no fanfare, but with plenty of love. They’d all gone home with extra pieces of pie, which Geordie had eaten for breakfast.
There were already several trucks in the back parking lot of Gilbert House, so Geordie pulled to the far side and parked under an old tree. She carried her equipment inside and looked into the kitchen, but it was empty. She could hear hammering from down the hall, so she followed the noise to the foyer, where the others were standing in a semicircle around—Gulp.
“Hey,” Meri said. “My scaffolding is almost finished.”
She sounded like Christmas morning. Geordie felt a creeping dread that started in the pit of her stomach and radiated out until her fingers tingled.
“Wow,” she managed. “I better put my stuff away.” She hurried down the hall to the annex and closed the door as soon as she was inside. What was wrong with her? It was a scaffold, for heaven’s sake. Not more than two stories high. And she’d prepare herself . . . if she had to.
She took a de
ep breath, blew it out her mouth. Took another. Besides, there wouldn’t be any reason for her to have to go up there. She had a powerful zoom lens. But what if . . .
She began to methodically lay out cameras and lenses that she would need for the day. Set up her laptop so she could transfer as she went, and not have to guess what the hell the pictures were like last week. Nothing like a load of extra work to speed up your learning curve. She was determined to appear calm, cool, and professional no matter what.
She had just picked up her zoom lens, when a shadow appeared in the doorway. She didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Her nemesis.
“Good morning,” she said, taking the initiative. She smiled brightly at him, even though he couldn’t manage to do anything but scowl. If possible he looked more tired than he had on Friday.
She decided to keep her sarcasm to herself.
“I know how you got this job.”
That made her look up. “I applied for it just like everyone else.”
“But not everyone has a family as influential as yours.”
She stared at him. “I—” She’d gotten this job on her own, the portfolio, the interview, it was all her. She hadn’t mentioned her family and God knew Holt was a common-enough name. “Who told you that?”
“That doesn’t matter. But you should know you’re costing us a lot of money.”
“What is it with you? I was hired—for a salary—just like the rest of you.”
“Right. Sure you were. Just try not to screw up until l—we—can replace you.”
He was gone. Her first instinct was to run after him and tell him he was wrong. Was he just guessing because somehow he had found out who her family was? Or was it true? Had they hired her as a favor to dear old Dad?
She flushed hot, her throat burned and she had to dig her nails into her palms to keep the tears of anger and frustration building in her eyes from overflowing.
“You’re an ass, Bruce Stafford,” she said to the empty room. She ran her knuckles beneath her eyes, picked up her camera and tripod and went to work.