Whisker burns, bouts of talking to herself. Before long Annie would be blaming George and Gracie for her bad taste in window treatments and the proliferation of nuclear weapons.
The idea tickled her fancy and, more than that, kept her mind away from the thornier problem of Sam Butler and her feelings for him for at least six minutes. She considered that a genuine triumph. It seemed to Annie that he had been dominating her every waking thought since she first laid eyes on him in the Yankee Shopper parking lot. One moment she was the Annie Lacy Galloway everyone knew and depended on and the next she was some hot-blooded stranger, ripping the clothes off a man she barely knew and loving every second of it. How could you live thirty-eight years on this planet and know so little about yourself?
She doubted if even Sweeney's tarot cards had an answer for that one.
#
Susan looked at Hall over the top of her reading glasses. The entire contents of all the major New England Sunday newspapers were spread across the picnic table, along with crumbs from a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich and chocolate chip cookies.
"Let me see if I got this right," Susan said, obviously trying to torture him. "You forgot your kids were coming to spend the night."
"Completely," said Hall, resting one foot on the bench across from his friend. "I was in the shower when they started pounding on the front door."
"The big ones or the little ones?"
"Little ones," he said.
Susan groaned. "Yvonne must've loved that."
"She put a good face on it," Hall said, "but she looked pretty disappointed."
"I'll bet." She glanced around her backyard. "Where are they?"
"Waiting by the car."
"Go get them. They can hang out with Jeannie by the pool." She laughed at the look on his face. "Don't worry. Jack's playing lifeguard. They'll be fine."
Five minutes later Hall was back in position, one foot on the picnic bench, gaze riveted to his oldest friend, butterflies flapping around inside his abdominal cavity.
"Since when can't you entertain your own children for the afternoon?" Susan asked him, cutting to the chase as usual. "Unless you're trying to wangle dinner invitations for the lot of you."
"Just two."
Susan's eyebrows lifted. "You have other plans?"
Disappointment welled up inside him, giving the butterflies a run for their money. "She didn't tell you."
Susan was smart. She knew without being told that "she" meant Annie. "I haven't spoken to her since she moved into the new house. Tell me what?"
"Cappy's," he said, trying not to hang too many hopes on one word. "Seven o'clock."
She leaned over to look at his watch. "And it's –"
"Five forty-two."
"I suppose you want to go home and shower."
"Something like that."
"And it's easier without having the kids hanging around, asking all sorts of embarrassing questions."
"Definitely."
"So go," she said, giving him an affectionate swat on the arm with the Arts and Leisure section of the New York Times. "And tell her to call me. I want the scoop from both of you."
"I owe you for this, Susie," he said, pressing an affectionate kiss to the top of her head.
"Darn right you do," she called out as he dashed for the car. He was older and a tiny bit grayer but it was the same Hall she remembered from high school, single-minded focus hidden behind a casual, easy-going exterior that never failed to charm.
She managed to wait until his car was halfway down the driveway before she hurried around to the pool where Jack was supervising the kids in a game of water volleyball.
She sat down next to him and dangled her feet in the water. "I have big news," she said.
He shot her one of those husbandly looks that sometimes made her want to hit him. "Don't tell me you're pregnant."
"Wash your mouth out," she said, then lowered her voice. "Hall and Annie are going out tonight."
"Jeez, Susan, I told you to –"
"I had nothing to do with it. Apparently he drove over to Annie's house yesterday morning at Claudia's request and one thing led to another and they have a date tonight."
"You don't really think anything's going to come of this, do you?"
"Hall can be terribly charming," she said then paused a beat. "And he's a doctor. That doesn't exactly hurt."
"And she's known him all her life. If something was going to develop between them, you'd think you might've seen a hint somewhere along the way."
"There was always Kevin," she said softly, as thoughts of her brother tugged at her heart. "He's a tough act to follow."
"You know what I'm talking about," Jack said. "Like you and Tony Dee at the real estate office.
"Jack!" She sounded both outraged and deeply flattered. "Tony Dee!?"
"I've seen the two of you at those office get-togethers," her husband said in his matter-of-fact way. "Your flirting generates a hell of a lot of heat."
"Oh, don't be silly. We just –"
"I'm not criticizing you, Suz. Just stating a fact. You've never seen anything like that between Hall and Annie, have you."
"Well, no, but –"
"Case closed."
"Now wait a minute. Annie's a very serious person. She never even flirted with Kevin."
"The hell she didn't."
"Not so you'd notice."
"But it was there," her suddenly observant husband confirmed. "It either is or it isn't, Suz, and I'm telling you it's not there for Annie and Hall."
Susan watched her youngest daughter throw a volleyball at her little brother's head. He didn't scream and there was no blood so she dismissed the action as business as usual.
Things changed as the years passed. The dreams you dreamed when you were twenty-five and thirty might not seem quite so compelling when you were knocking on forty's door. Nobody doubted that Kevin had been the love of Annie's life, her soulmate. All you'd had to do was watch them together and instantly you knew that all those two needed to be happy was each other. They guarded their time alone together and were loath to squander a precious weekday evening or weekend with friends or family when they could be spending it alone together.
She barely managed to suppress a sigh. Kevin had adored Annie. Right up until the very end, he was still writing poems for her and sending her flowers just because. She'd never admitted to anyone how much she had envied Annie. Oh, it wasn't that Jack didn't love her. He did. She was as sure about that as she was sure about tomorrow's sunrise. Jack's love for her was a cozy comforter on a cold winter's night but Kevin's love for Annie had been starlight and moonbeams and the sound of violins and sometimes a woman longed for a little night music.
It was silly and she knew it, envying a widow the marriage she no longer had, but there you had it. No wonder Annie wasn't striking sparks with anyone. Who could ever compete with what she'd had with Kevin? Maybe Hall hadn't been Annie's knight in shining armor back when they were young but who could say he wasn't just right for her today? She'd had her once-in-a-lifetime love. Now she needed someone mature and responsible, someone who would fit right in with the family, someone who grew up in the same town and knew the same people, to share her life with and as far as Susan was concerned, Hall fit the bill to a T.
How much fun it would be to go to the movies with Annie and Hall, stop for a bite to eat at Cappy's, maybe even --
"Hey, you two!" Jack bellowed next to her as their daughter attempted to decaptitate their son while Hall's two well-behaved children looked on in horror.. "One more stunt like that and you're both out of the pool."
Susan shook her head in dismay. "Why is it always our children who act up?"
"Genetics," her husband said, draping an arm around her shoulders and holding her tight. "Our poor kids don't stand a chance."
#
Annie took Sweeney and the girls out for some ice cream after they finished at The Overlook and by the time they'd all finished eating and laughing and
gossiping about the latest doings in town it was nearly six o'clock. The girls hurried for home and Sweeney headed off to meet another one of her many boyfriends at an outdoor concert two towns over.
"Why don't you come too," Sweeney said as they walked to their cars. "Fred and I have pretty much run our course. I could use a buffer, to be honest."
Annie shuddered. "I've met Fred," she said. "You could use a moat and a drawbridge."
"The pickings get wicked slim when you're my age, honey. They're not all Harrison Ford."
Annie was still laughing when she pulled into her driveway. The small house was dim and cool. George and Gracie were sound asleep on adjacent platforms of the cat condo and paid Annie little attention. The only sound was the ever-present drumming of the waves against the shore, punctuated by the occasional cry of a hungry seagull. Sam's truck wasn't parked in his driveway and she wondered where he'd gone.
Not that it was any of her business. She was, after all, the one who had slipped out his front door without so much as a goodbye, all because moving forward had proved to be every bit as frightening as standing in place.
You know what to do, Annie. You're a grown woman. Fix yourself up then march over to his house with a bottle of wine and some leftover pizza and apologize for running out on him.
There was a small window of opportunity to make amends. She glanced at her watch. And an even smaller window of opportunity to do something about her hair.
#
Susan tried her best to stay away from the telephone but at six-thirty she lost the battle. She left her brood -- plus two -- gathered around the barbecue grill and slipped into their home office where she pressed the number three on the speed dial and listened to Annie's phone ring.
"I can't believe you didn't tell me," she said by way of hello. "I waited as long as I could but I can't take it anymore. What are you wearing? Those white pants I hope and maybe that red sweater . . . it's cool enough for the sweater tonight . . . maybe you could –"
"Who is this?" Annie demanded.
"Who is this?" she repeated, stung to the quick. "It's Susan and I want to know why you didn't tell me." Silence. A long, protracted silence. "Annie?" She tapped the mouthpiece with a fingernail. "Did you hang up on me?"
"No." Another silence, then: "How did you know?"
"How did I know? How do you think? He told me, that's how."
"He told you? I didn't even think he knew you."
"Did I wake you up?" Susan asked. "You don't sound like yourself. He came over to ask me to watch his kids tonight and he told me."
"Ohmigod . . . "
"Annie, you really don't sound like yourself. Are you okay? Is something going on? Do you want me to come over and –"
"I completely forgot about Hall," Annie said, through what sounded like hysterical laughter. "Gotta go . . . I'll call you tomorrow."
Click.
"She hung up on me," Susan said to the empty room. Annie Galloway, the most polite woman on earth, hung up on her and laughed when she did it.
Something was rotten in Shelter Rock Cove and Susan was going to find out what it was.
#
Sam and Warren spent the day down at a maritime museum not far from Camden. Warren was friends with the curator, who shared some insights on interactive displays and the feasibility of adding cruises to the mix. There were safety considerations to take into account, insurance costs, Maine's changeable weather. Warren, who was underwriting the entire venture, absorbed the information without taking a single note, something that never failed to astonish Sam.
While Warren talked business, Sam wandered the shipyard. It had been a long time since he'd breathed in that particular blend of wood, varnish, fuel, and fish. He filled his lungs with it and grinned at nothing in particular. It smelled like home to him, like the marina back in Queens where he'd worked as a teenager. Had any job ever made him as happy as that one? Closing deals for a million and more never once gave him the rush of happiness he'd found when he was up to his elbows in marine grease and loving every minute of it.
Maybe that's how he'd end up, fixing boats at some broken-down marina, his fingernails stained permanently black, his skin smelling of sea spray, his bank balance hovering around zero. There were worse ways for a man to spend his life, especially if he had the right woman to share his days and nights with.
But what the hell did he have to offer a woman these days. Six months ago he could have made a case for himself: great car, great apartment, great prospects. Now he had even less than Annie Galloway. Annie owned her house and her business. He was owned by an aging yellow Lab.
"You look like you've got the weight of the world on your shoulders," Warren observed as they headed back to Shelter Rock Cove. "Anything I should know about?"
"I think you need transmission fluid," Sam said as he switched lanes. "This old Jeep needs more babying than you give it." He slowed down behind a sluggish Audi. "Think it might be time to spring for something built in the last decade?"
"Wiseass," Warren said amiably. "So are you going to tell me what's really going on or will you make me beat it out of you."
Sam laughed out loud. "You don't think I'm dumb enough to take you up on the latter, do you?" Warren had been an amateur boxer at one point in his youth and he still maintained an impressive set of biceps.
"You'll figure it out," Warren said, "whatever it is."
"Yeah?" He shot Warren a look. "Think I'll manage it before I'm your age?"
"Not if the problem is a woman."
There was no arguing that.
"How about we stop along the way for a steak and baked potato?" Warren suggested.
Sam glanced at the clock on the dashboard. 6:35 p.m. Annie was supposed to meet the Town Doctor at seven for dinner.
He was maybe thirty minutes away from Shelter Rock Cove.
It was fate.
"I'm thinking lobster," he said, knowing Warren would understand. "I heard about some place called Cappy's . . . . "
#
"Now that was a wonderful seminar," Roberta said as she and Claudia strolled across the parking lot of the Bangor Holiday Inn. "That boy must have kissed the Blarney Stone somewhere along the way."
"He's young enough to be our grandson," Claudia said with a shake of her head. "So smart! Do they make them smarter these days, Bobbi, or does it just seem that way?"
"It's all those Flintstone vitamins," Roberta said, adjusting the strap on her purse so it angled just so across her pillowy breasts. "Imagine how smart we would've been if we'd had half of the advantages our children had."
Oh, there was truth enough to that statement, Claudia thought as Roberta drove them back toward Shelter Rock Cove. Today's young people had no idea what it was like to scrimp and save for every penny. They expected to step out of school and into some fancy, high-paying job and that was usually exactly what happened.
Back in her day, you had considered yourself lucky to find a position and you clung to it until the day you retired. It was a whole different world that Adam Winters painted for them during the four hour seminar. "Don't think it's too late to influence the future," he had said to them as he strode the aisles, aiming his snowy-white smile right at Claudia and Roberta and other women just like them. "Americans are living longer than ever before and their standard of living is growing right along with them. Why shouldn't you be part of the golden age of seniors and grab a piece of the American pie for yourself?"
Why, indeed. Everything the young man had said made perfect sense to Claudia. She and John had worked very hard for their money and she had watched over it carefully since his death. The house was paid for – that was a blessing – and she owned her own car. Her health insurance was adequate but all it would take was one serious illness to put a dent in what remained of her nest egg. She was comfortable but she wasn't secure and Adam Winters said she had the right to be both or know the reason why.
Susan would be downright horrified if she knew that Claudia had written ou
t a check for $2000 as tuition for Adam Winters's full week-long seminar to be held next month. "Have you lost your mind, Ma?" she would bellow. "Why don't you give the guy the key to your safety deposit box too while you're at it?"
It was truly a wonderful deal, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. If she decided to let Adam Winters Associates manage her funds, $1500 of the tuition monies would be plowed right back into her account. Even Susan would have to admit that was more than generous.
Her children thought they had the right to rule her life. They had opinions on everything from the house she lived in to the food she cooked and the company she kept and she resented it deeply. She tried very hard to keep her nose out of their business and she expected the same consideration in return. This was her money, hers and her beloved John's, and if she wanted to use it as a stepping stone toward building her investment then that was exactly what she would do.
"I'm not telling Jessica and Peter," Roberta said as they neared the outskirts of town. "One more lecture about how it might be time for me to hand over my power of attorney and I'll leave everything to Sparky." Sparky was her Airedale.
Claudia nodded. "I'm not telling any of mine." She had thought she might confide in Annie but now that was out as well.
"They'll thank us one day," Roberta said.
"Absolutely," Claudia concurred. "When we've tripled their inheritances, they'll sing a different tune."
Roberta made a left turn onto Willow Road. "Steak at Brubaker's or the fish fry at Cappy's?"
"Cappy's," said Claudia. "I'm in the mood for french fries."
"Damn the cholesterol," said Roberta as she gunned the engine of her Buick Riviera. "Full speed ahead!"
Chapter Ten
Cappy's-on-the-Cove was a former lobster shack with delusions of grandeur. What had begun as a modest establishment with window service only had grown by bits and pieces over the years until it could now seat forty with just minor discomfort. The floors were uneven. The ceilings varied in height. The tables near the kitchen were a good ten degrees hotter than anywhere else in the place. But when it came to mouth-watering lobster and world-class blueberry pie, it didn't get much better than Cappy's.
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