Summer Days

by Lisa Jackson

  CHAPTER 13

  Two days later, Ellen sat at a table for two in the garden of one of the more popular restaurants in Perkins Cove. She was waiting for Rob to join her for dinner. He had called her that morning with the suggestion, and she had said yes, sure, without hesitation, Nadia’s encouraging—and irrepressible—voice in her head. “Face life,” Nadia had said. And so Ellen had accepted Rob’s invitation.

  After all, it was just a meal.

  It was an undeniably idyllic setting. The Cove itself was chock-full of charming old wooden structures that now mostly housed expensive shops and galleries. The restaurant’s garden was lush; the owner seemed to have gotten around the water restrictions, or else he employed a magician of sorts. There was no sign of drought here, not if the masses of red and yellow and purple tulips and the profusion of pink and white roses were any evidence. In the water bobbed beautifully kept pleasure boats, as well as working lobster and fishing vessels and touring boats. Crowds of ambling tourists made driving into the Cove a long, slow nightmare, but they were a well-behaved bunch on the whole.

  Ellen’s phone alerted her to a text. It was from Rob, apologizing for running a little late; he had been waiting for an important package that had finally arrived, and he would soon be on his way. Ellen shrugged (when you worked from home, package deliveries could be the bane of your existence; there was no mail room clerk to be there when you couldn’t be) and decided to turn her attention to those ambling tourists. People watching could be fun. And, she supposed that for a novelist people watching was also profitable. Weren’t novelists always making mental notes on people’s behaviors and appearance? She was glad she didn’t know a novelist personally. She would constantly be worried about finding herself described in a book.

  Ellen watched as a family of four passed by. The mother and father wore matching baseball caps that proclaimed they were Lovin’ Lobstah; the son, about ten, wore a voluminous lime green T-shirt and baggy shorts; the daughter, about thirteen, was wearing a hot pink sundress and big, white-framed plastic sunglasses.

  With a melancholic sigh, Ellen wondered if she would ever have a family of her own. Peter had talked about having children, three or four he had said. She had often thought about what kind of a father he would make. A good one certainly; she had been sure of that. Until she had learned his true nature.

  And what kind of mother would I make, she wondered now. Would she be overprotective? Probably. Would she be strict? Possibly. One thing was for certain. She would never send her seven-year-old away to protect her from a family crisis. She would hold her tightly, and together, they would weather the storm.

  Ellen recalled what Rob had told her about his parents. None of it was very encouraging. She wondered if in spite of his somewhat miserable home life he wanted a family of his own. She didn’t feel it was something she could ask, not yet. Maybe never.

  “Hey.”

  “People watching is really an extraordinary pastime,” Ellen announced to Rob as he joined her.

  “I’m glad you weren’t bored waiting for me. I’m sorry I was late. But the package came, and it wasn’t smashed, so that’s something.”

  The waiter came by then and took their orders. Ellen ordered a glass of wine and a lobster salad, and Rob ordered a beer and the mussels special. Ellen didn’t object when he also asked for an order of fries to share.

  The meals were brought to the table promptly, and for a while they ate in contented silence. When they had finished off the fries, Rob sat back.

  “You know,” he said with a grin, “I think Cora has been trying to hook us up.”

  “Matchmaking?” Ellen felt a tingling in her stomach. She had not expected this as a subject of conversation.

  “If suggesting I ask you to lunch the other day is matchmaking, then yeah.”

  Ellen smiled. “I figured as much. Well, she does like to sing your praises.”

  “And the other day she happened to mention that you made a very good living.”

  “What!” Ellen cried, appalled and yet amused. “How does she know that?”

  Rob shrugged. “As if it would matter to me. And then she pointed out that you were really very adorable.”

  Ellen felt her cheeks flush and hoped that in the darkening evening light, Rob couldn’t tell. “She said ‘adorable’? Oh.” She wondered if Rob agreed.

  “And then,” Rob went on, “when you asked me if she had suggested I invite you to Portland, I kind of figured she’d been dangling me in front of you in the same way she’d been dangling you in front of me.”

  “Like bait before a hungry fish.”

  “I don’t think Cora would see it quite that way. Anyway, do you mind?” Rob asked. “I mean, if she is trying to set us up.”

  “Do you?” Ellen asked, aware that she was stalling.

  “No. And you didn’t answer my question.”

  “I guess not,” she said after a moment. “I mean, it’s not as if you’re a gargoyle or a medieval dungeon master.”

  “And it’s not as if you’re a homicidal maniac. You’re not, are you?”

  “Only on my bad days,” Ellen assured him with mock seriousness.

  “Well, on my bad days I lapse into spacey behavior. Some might even say rude. But that’s only when I’m really focused on a project and it’s causing me trouble. I think you’ve witnessed that already! And then I bounce back to being a nice normal guy.”

  “Artistic temperament?” Ellen asked with a smile.

  “That or immaturity. I have to warn you, though,” Rob said, his tone suddenly serious. “I’m not too long out of a relationship. Cora doesn’t know about that, by the way. Frankly, I’m not sure how she hasn’t ferreted out the information by now.”

  Ellen hesitated, but then she thought of the irrepressible Nadia. “I am, too,” she admitted boldly. “It’s been two months since the final, final end.”

  “Are you able to tell me about it?”

  Ellen sighed. “Why not? His name was Peter. We were together for almost three years. We got engaged after about eighteen months and moved in together soon after that. And then, about three or four months ago—some of it is a blur already—I started having suspicions. And then I found proof that he was cheating on me and had been for a long time. Cheating and stealing.”

  Rob let out a long whistle. “Wow,” he said. “I’m so sorry. It must have felt as if your entire world was crumbling around you.”

  “Pretty much, though my friends and family were there for me.” When I let them be, she added silently. “Can you tell me what happened to you?”

  “Sure,” he said. “I had been seeing this woman, Christine is her name, for about seven or eight months. And I was in love. And she wasn’t, I guess. She hurt me. Not on purpose. I mean, she didn’t cheat on me or steal from me, like your former fiancé did to you. She just decided to move to California and pursue her life out there. She had every right to make that decision. Anyway, it’s been about nine months now since she ended it, and I like to think I’ve moved on.” Rob frowned, then nodded. “I have moved on. I can say that definitely.”

  “So,” Ellen asked, “if she called you tomorrow and said, I’m moving back East, let’s get back together, what would you say?”

  Rob smiled. “I’m a romantic, not a masochist. I don’t like to be thought of as a convenience.”

  A convenience. Was that what Peter had considered her? Ellen wondered. Until she had become an inconvenience, of course. Had she been just a warm body with whom to pass the time? It wasn’t the first time Ellen had considered this possibility, but it still gave her a chill. That someone could have so little respect for another human being was really appalling.

  “I’m over Peter completely, too,” she said then. “Not the damage, but the person.”

  Rob smiled. “Good. I’m glad.”

  They sat there quietly as the sky darkened and twinkling lights came on in the houses across the Cove and families with small children headed back to their mo
tels for the night. Ellen felt more peaceful than she had in a very long time.

  “So, let me see if I’ve got this right,” Rob said at last. “We’re not dating.”

  Ellen was startled, but she hid the fact behind a smile. “Right,” she said.

  “But we might be interested in each other someday.”

  Ellen hesitated. “I guess you could say that,” she finally admitted.

  “But neither of us is immature enough to rush into anything.”

  “Right,” Ellen said firmly.

  “At the same time,” Rob went on, “neither of us is silly enough to walk away from something that seems like it could be a really good idea.”

  Ellen didn’t quite know about that, but she said, “Also right.”

  “Good.” Rob smiled. “We’re in complete agreement then.”

  They paid the check soon after. As they were leaving the restaurant, Rob took her hand. Ellen smiled up at him.

  Oh, my gosh, she thought as they headed for the parking lot. What, oh what am I doing?

  CHAPTER 14

  “What a perfect evening,” Rob said. “I know, what a cliché, but at this moment I feel it’s true.”

  Ellen nodded. “So do I.”

  They were sitting at the little wrought-iron table in Ellen’s backyard. The air was warm and soft and scented with flowers. The candles Ellen had lit gave off a warm glow. In the distance a night bird was singing its melancholy song.

  It was not the first time Ellen and Rob had seen each other since the dinner in Perkins Cove. One afternoon they had visited the Ogunquit Museum of American Art, and afterward they had gone for steamers and corn on the cob at Chauncey Creek in Kittery Point. Another afternoon they had gone to a really awful action film, just for the fun of it. It turned out they both liked popcorn with an extra squirt of life-threatening artificial butter.

  This evening, Ellen had invited Rob to her house for dinner in the garden. She had served wine and a Caesar salad, a crisp French-style baguette from Bread and Roses, and a plate of cold shrimp with a curry dipping sauce. For dessert she offered chocolate chip cookies, also from Bread and Roses. Conversation had been nonstop and easy. Ellen told Rob about her idyllic childhood summers in Ogunquit. Rob told Ellen about his wild days in art school. Ellen told him about how she had met her good friend Caroline at a charity event; they had been seated at the same table and had bonded over rubber chicken and dull speeches. Rob admitted that though he had a few buddies, in his free time he often chose to take long, solitary rides on his bike. Ellen revealed that she was content being an only child. Rob said that for years he had wanted a kid brother to boss around. “But it’s probably a good thing my mom didn’t have more kids,” he said.

  Only a few shrimp and one cookie remained when suddenly, Rob grabbed the arms of his chair.

  “Holy . . . !”

  “What’s wrong?” Ellen cried. Rob’s face had gone deadly pale, and his eyes were abnormally wide.

  “Don’t turn around,” he whispered hoarsely. “Maybe it will go away.”

  Of course, Ellen turned around. And then, she laughed.

  “What are you laughing about?” Rob hissed. “It’s a panther. A young panther. Its mother could be just behind those trees! It probably wants to kill us!”

  Ellen turned back and with difficulty tried to quell her laughter. “Oh, Rob, that’s only Clovis, Cora’s cat.”

  “Her what?”

  Ellen called over her shoulder, “Clovis, would you like a shrimp?”

  With his characteristic groan, Clovis walked over to join them at the little table. Ellen held out a shrimp, and with one engulfing bite it was gone. She fed him the other remaining shrimp, and then with a long, penetrating stare at Rob, Clovis stalked off.

  Rob put his hand to his chest. “I think I’m having a heart attack,” he said. “I’ve never seen such an enormous house cat in my life.”

  “Cora swears he’s not a half-breed, but I have my doubts,” Ellen admitted. “Your color is coming back. Have some wine. Maybe it will help restore you.”

  “Thanks,” Rob murmured. “I guess I acted like a Victorian lady just now, on the verge of fainting dead away.”

  “I would have fetched the smelling salts,” Ellen assured him.

  “And loosened my stays?”

  Ellen laughed. “If I knew what a stay was, yes, I would have loosened it.”

  “Though I doubt you’d have the strength to carry me inside, out of the elements.”

  “Yes. I’d have to call the fire department for help.”

  “And my reputation as a man would be forever ruined!”

  Ellen laughed. “And what would Cora and the other ladies in your fan club think about that!”

  “You know, I never expected this sort of thing to happen,” Rob said after a moment.

  “What sort of thing?” Ellen asked lightly. “The sudden appearance of a massive four-footed beast?”

  “No, silly. This. This friendship we seem to be developing. I mean, I came to Ogunquit this summer with the full intention of sticking to myself and my painting. I didn’t at all expect—or, to be honest, even want—a, well, a relationship with someone.”

  “A relationship,” Ellen repeated, wondering if her voice had shaken.

  “Yes. Like what we have now, whatever exactly it is. We’re having fun together, aren’t we? Not raucous fun, but real fun.”

  “Yes,” Ellen agreed. “We are. And as long as we’re being honest, I have to admit my intentions for the summer were pretty close to yours. I came here to be alone and to forget all that had happened with Peter. At least, to put it all behind me. I even had to force myself to spend time with Cora. But I didn’t want to insult her; she had been friends with my parents.”

  Rob smiled. “And I suspect that Cora Compton does not take ‘no’ for an answer from anyone!”

  “I wonder if even Emily can resist her,” Ellen said.

  “Emily is probably the only one who can!” Rob got up from his chair then. “Look,” he said, “I hate to come across as such a workaholic, but I do want to finish some preliminary sketches tonight. If I’m to get anything done in the morning, when the light is back, I’d better get cracking.”

  Ellen got up as well. “Of course,” she said. “And you don’t have to excuse a devotion to work to me! My friend Caroline is always telling me to lighten up and leave work at the office.”

  “But home is your office,” Rob pointed out.

  “You see my dilemma!”

  They parted with a warm hug. Ellen was both relieved and disappointed there had been no kiss. Mostly relieved? Or mostly disappointed? She didn’t know.

  She watched as Rob drove off. At the end of the road he tooted the horn. She waved and went to the garden to clear the remains of their meal.

  JoAnne Tudor called later that night, just as Ellen was putting away the last of the cleaned and dried dishes.

  “Hey, Mom.”

  “You sound good,” JoAnne replied promptly.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your voice. There’s something light in it. Maybe all that time alone is proving of some benefit after all.”

  Ellen laughed a bit guiltily. “Maybe,” she said. “So, what’s going on in sunny Arizona?”

  They chatted for some time, and though it felt somehow dishonest not to share with her mother the news of Rob Penn’s presence in her life, Ellen did not. She wasn’t entirely sure why, but she suspected that embarrassment had something to do with it. Against her mother’s—and Caroline’s—advice she had made a commitment to spend the summer alone and in relative isolation, and here she seemed to be developing a—yes, a relationship, of whatever sort it was, with someone.

  But if something . . . definitive . . . were to happen with Rob, whatever that might be, then, of course, she would share the news. She might even shout it from the rooftop.

  “Good night, Mom,” Ellen said finally. “Give my love to Dad.”

  “I will
. And keep at whatever it is you’re doing,” JoAnne urged. “You’re sounding a lot more like the Ellen we know and love.”

  Thanks to Rob? Ellen wondered.

  CHAPTER 15

  Ellen was on her way to Rob’s house for dinner. They had seen each other only that afternoon, but already she missed the sound of his voice and the way she found herself smiling so freely when they were together.

  Rob answered the door on her first knock. His shirt was open to mid-chest. Ellen felt a tingle of nervous excitement course through her.

  “Come in,” he said, stepping aside. “I’m almost finished getting dinner together.”

  While Rob was busy in the kitchen, Ellen occupied her time looking at the paintings in progress. If things between them went well, she thought, she would buy a painting. And even if things didn’t go well, whatever that might mean, she would buy a painting anyway, purely for the aesthetic pleasure it would bring her for years to come.

  Suddenly, an enticing aroma from the tiny open kitchen caught her attention. Rob must have taken something from the oven.

  “You can cook,” Ellen exclaimed, turning away from the easels. That was no frozen meal she smelled. That was savory heaven.

  Rob looked up from whatever it was he was now chopping. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

  “You said you weren’t a fussy gourmet.”

  “And I’m not. I made us mac ’n’ cheese and a salad, and for dessert, we’re having Ben and Jerry’s. Simple.”

  “What flavor?”

  “Is this a deal breaker?” Rob asked.

  “No. I just want to know so I can have something to look forward to if dinner is awful,” she teased.

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence. I got vanilla in case you like your ice cream clean and classic, and I also got some concoction with coconut and cherries and chocolate fudge in case you like your ice cream complicated.”

  The meal was not awful at all.

  “Where did you get this recipe?” Ellen asked. “This is not like any old plastic mac ’n’ cheese I’ve ever had!”