Sea Glass Summer

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Sea Glass Summer Page 31

by Dorothy Cannell


  ‘I’m not sure. But if they wanted to cross to the other side of the bay it would be a shorter cut from here than from where their house and the Cully Mansion are.’

  ‘How far out did you have to go to catch up with them?’ asked Gwen in a kind voice, sunlight shining her softly curling hair to polished silver.

  ‘No great distance.’ Oliver didn’t let himself think how long it had seemed. ‘And it would’ve been less if they hadn’t picked up speed when they saw who it was coming after them. Maybe Stone suddenly realized he’d dropped his inhaler because they slowed down and stopped, and I handed it over to him.’

  ‘What did he say?’ said Sarah and Gwen together.

  ‘Mumbled something. I couldn’t get if it was “thank you.”’ Oliver grinned widely. ‘But if looks could kill I’d have been dead on the spot. That put me in such a great mood I really enjoyed the paddling back part. Remember, Sarah, when Evan talked about how he was thinking he’d like to get a sail boat and I thought I’d be too scared to go out in it? Well, that’s all changed now.’

  ‘I’m glad. And I’ve a very good idea what he’ll say when he hears about your rescue at sea. And that is you’re a worthy descendent of Nathaniel Cully, and he’d be proud of you.’

  ‘I’d like to think he would be. But you’re forgetting a few things, Sarah. I don’t suffer from sea sickness, and I didn’t have to set off at night in a storm, and I’m not seventy years old.’

  Sarah took the kayak’s stern cord and helped him pull it back to its place with the others under the overhang. ‘For you to become the boy you are, your parents and grandparents must have poured love into you from the day you were born, along with Twyla coming into your life to add her share.’

  ‘There’s no doubt of that,’ said Gwen. ‘Oliver, your mother and father have to be smiling at this minute. Your happiness will mean everything to them.’

  ‘I know it does. And the same with Grandpa. I don’t want him to still be worrying when he goes to join them and Grandma Olive.’ His face screwed up with emotion. ‘Oh, Sarah!’ He stepped back from the kayaks. ‘I’d give anything to be with you and Evan.’

  ‘And I hope you know,’ she drew him into an embrace, ‘that’s what we’d want.’

  ‘Twyla agrees,’ Gwen assured him. ‘She’s told me so.’

  ‘She has?’ Oliver raised a tear-streaked face. ‘I’d hate to hurt her. I can’t imagine my life without her. I’ll always want her close – to see her all the time. She’s not just my friend; she’s my grandma, the one here on earth.’

  ‘Remember,’ Sarah looked into his eyes, ‘that someone whom I believe,’ she emphasized the word, ‘cares for you deeply told you that everything is going to work out.’

  Gwen didn’t ask who she was talking about; she wouldn’t. She never probed.

  ‘Yes.’ Oliver’s face cleared. ‘We can hold on to that. Can’t we?’ This was quickly followed by a look of dawning horror. ‘I don’t want anyone but you and Evan and perhaps Brian – he’s not a snitch – to know about me taking that inhaler to Rolling Stone. I’d die if the story got splashed over the local paper because Nat’s statue is on the common and people started to make a fuss of me. Besides, I couldn’t do that to Emjagger and Rolling Stone, however much I don’t like them.’

  ‘You have our word,’ promised Sarah, on a nod from Gwen, who then said she hoped they wouldn’t mind but she thought she should be getting back in case Sonny had returned with Sid Jennson. She gladly left Jumbo, who hadn’t gotten in his promised walk with them. Oliver offered to bring him back early afternoon if that was all right.

  ‘I’d get to see Twyla and Sonny and could stay to do my piano practice.’

  ‘That would be great, dear.’ She handed him Jumbo’s leash. ‘I’ll start you on a new piece if you feel ready, which I’m sure you will be, the way you’re going.

  Oliver and Sarah watched her head up the steps. ‘I love her too,’ he said when they started off along the beach. ‘She’s become family. Same with Sonny. I think this has been as good a summer as he could have had, don’t you?’

  ‘Absolutely, and Gwen will find a lasting comfort in that.’ Sarah bent to pick up a piece of amber sea glass, buffered and smoothed to rounded edges. ‘All those everyday moments to be held onto and treasured.’ She passed it to Oliver and his eyes filled with understanding before returning it to her.

  The pure blue sky remained without a strand of clouds; sunshine bathed them in warmth, and only a breath of silken breeze touched them. The water slipped foamless onto the pebbles and the gulls glided silently overhead. After a few minutes Oliver released Jumbo from the leash and they watched him exploring among the rocks.

  ‘Don’t those ones covered with long seaweed look like mermaids sleeping face down, Sarah?’

  ‘Our minds do work alike.’ The love in her eyes was more warming than the sun. ‘I was thinking the same thing the other day when I was down here.’

  They followed Jumbo as he emerged onto a stretch of pebbles keeping a leisurely pace. He only took off on a run when given the OK to do so, always returning instantly when summoned. He never went splashing into the water without permission.

  ‘Gwen must have spent lots and lots of time training him. It was kind of her to say she’d help with the new puppy.’

  ‘We’re going to need every piece of advice and time she can give us. Wasn’t it good news her telling us when we went to dinner at her house on Friday that the breeder she got Jumbo from will have a litter available in three weeks and that we can have first choice?’

  ‘I can’t wait; can you and Evan keep from jumping up and down?’

  ‘We need glue on our feet.’ They were approaching Lighthouse Point with a mile-long causeway leading out to it.

  Three weeks and the new school year wouldn’t have started, Oliver thought. Even if the worst came to the worst Gerard and Elizabeth wouldn’t have taken him back with them to New York by then. Unless they decided they needed extra time there for preparations. But Oliver refused to let that thought continue. He turned his face to Sarah’s. ‘Can I ask you something?’

  ‘Of course you can.’ She stopped walking. ‘Anything in the world.’

  ‘Could you love me like I was your real son?’

  ‘Let’s sit down on that big flat topped rock – the one that isn’t covered with seaweed.’ Sarah did so and Oliver joined her, his eyes full of expectancy. A couple of gulls, discreetly absent until now, hovered overhead uttering their hoarse throated caterwauling. She waited for them to flap off into the distance before continuing. ‘I was down here on the beach soon after I moved to Sea Glass and the feeling came over me that a child was walking along beside me.’ She put her arm around him. ‘When you, Evan and I met on the common and there was such a power of connection, I was convinced that child had been you. That somehow your spirit and mine, in some inexplicable way, had come together because we were meant to find each other. I still like to believe that. Just as I’m sure that the intense pull to answer Evan’s letter to Nan Fielding, and his same response on finding mine to him when he returned from his book tour, and then your need for our help when he and I turned up together, were events woven into place by benevolent forces beyond our full understanding. Skeptics might laugh themselves silly over our gullibility – the giving way to fantasy culminating in coincidence. They could be right. Maybe all the three of us are squirrelly. I can live very happily with that. You actually seeing and talking with Nat could mean you’ve an even bigger imagination than Evan and me. I lean toward Nat having shown up as your friend in need. One day you may feel differently about that. Right now I’m counting on his faith that all will go well for you.’

  ‘Oh, thank you, Sarah, for not thinking I’m nuts. It’s such a huge relief. I love you and Evan so much. And I could see yesterday Grandpa understood why.’

  ‘He’s a remarkable man. It was all there in his face, Oliver – his goodness, kindness and overwhelming devotion to you.’ Her voice chok
ed.

  ‘Did you see his expression when I gave him the blanket you made for him with “Grandpa” on it?’

  ‘I’ll remember it always.’ They got up and walked on a little further before summoning Jumbo to heel. ‘Have you thought about what to call the puppy?’

  ‘Evan and I want you to pick the name.’

  ‘You do?’ He stopped in his tracks. ‘Super! We’ll have to give Dusk lots of extra spoiling so she doesn’t feel left out for a minute. I think we should get her some toys on the day we bring her baby brother or sister home.’

  They talked cheerfully about all that would be needed – food and water bowls, baskets and training gates – until they mounted the wooden steps and crossed the garden with its shading trees and blooming flower bed, which brought Gwen back to mind because she had helped show Sarah what to plant and how to tend them. On several of those occasions Twyla had also been there. And Sonny, seated in a chair on the patio, his head tilted at times to the music of birdsong. Blooming among the roses and hydrangeas, and all the flowers’ names Oliver hadn’t yet learned, were the memories that he knew would remain linked with their scent forever.

  Once in the house Oliver went looking for Dusk. Sarah got out her knitting and they sat companionably in the living room until she looked at her watch and said maybe it was time for lunch. She’d made up a batch of gazpacho the night before, but wasn’t sure he’d like a cold soup.

  ‘But I would.’ He set about laying the table. ‘Twyla makes it and Grandpa said Grandma Olive did too.’ Demonstrating the truth of his enthusiasm he had two bowls followed by an egg salad sandwich. Beforehand Sarah asked him if he’d like to say grace, apologizing for neglecting this on other occasions when knowing it had always been a part of his childhood.

  ‘I can always say it silently if you’d rather?’

  ‘Not a chance. Evan will like it and I’m eager to get on board.’ Sarah kissed the top of his head as she got up to refill his lemonade glass.

  An hour later he left with Jumbo for his piano practice. He found Twyla looking particularly happy. ‘Life seems to be coming up good, lamb baby.’ She cradled him close when she came into the kitchen, where she and Gwen had been sitting having coffee. ‘I went to see your grandpa this morning and he enjoyed yesterday’s visit with Sarah and Evan, and he’s hoping you and she can go see him early afternoon tomorrow. He’s got something going on in the morning.’

  Oliver was instantly anxious. ‘With his doctor?’

  ‘He’ll be there. But no cause to fret; just a meeting. Happens routinely at places like Pleasant Meadows. Can’t get away from red tape these days,’ but while she said this she looked happy, so Oliver didn’t think there could be anything new wrong with Grandpa. Sonny wandered into the kitchen, but afterward followed Oliver into the piano room and sat listening to him practice. He looked tired and fell asleep within moments. Oliver went through his small repertoire including Chopsticks and after about half an hour Gwen came in, produced a sheet from inside the bench and began working with him on Michael Row the Boat Ashore, which he’d told her he really, really liked. At the end of the session Gwen told him she was proud of him. And not to brag or anything, he was pleased with himself.

  He stayed on for awhile when finished, talking and laughing with her and Twyla. The one disappointment was that Sonny didn’t wake up, but Gwen explained he would be tired because of his outing with Sid Jennson, which was always an event, invigorating at the time but leaving him sleepy afterward. At four Oliver decided it was time to return to the Cully Mansion to spend his self-allotted time with Feathers. He didn’t worry about Gerard and Elizabeth complaining that he’d been gone for too much of the day. That only happened when she was in a mood about something that made her lash out at him or sometimes Mrs Poll – for stupid stuff like her dropping a cup that was chipped anyway. And that morning when he’d left she’d been extra nice to him for some reason. Maybe she’d gotten Gerard to promise to stop drinking. As hoped, no tense atmosphere greeted his return. They were in the living room. Elizabeth had just come in from having her hair done. He’d have guessed so, even if she hadn’t said. There were new light streaks in it and it was a little shorter.

  ‘Looks nice,’ Oliver told her.

  Unfortunately Gerard got rid of her smile. ‘What’s all this in aid of, Liz?’

  ‘My trip to Boston tomorrow.’ Oliver had to admire her for not snapping, but perhaps that was because Gerard’s voice wasn’t slurred for once.

  ‘I don’t know why you have to go dodging down there.’

  ‘I’ve told you. I’m meeting an old friend who’s recently moved there.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Why the interrogation?’ Was the calm about to end? ‘Someone you’ve never met. We were in high school together.’ Elizabeth was fidgeting with the shoulder of her blouse. ‘Paula . . . Riviera.’

  Couldn’t she have done better than that? Oliver waited blank-faced for Gerard’s reply, but he merely picked up a magazine and began turning its pages upon flopping into a scruffy chair. The evening meal was the usual sort: small portions of chicken, a few tufts of limp broccoli, and two or three baby carrots. Having had his offer to do the dishes accepted, Oliver did so in the ancient sink, put them away and went into the living room to talk to Feathers who gave him a couple of beady-eyed stares from his perch before closing his eyes. He wasn’t an energetic bird at the best of times and now he seemed – Oliver groped for the word – lethargic, but it was evening. He told him to get some shut-eye and covered the cage with its sheet. On going up to his room he was hoping for a visit from Nat, but though he kept opening his eyes after getting into bed the window seat remained unoccupied.

  When he came down stairs the next morning at eight Elizabeth had already left for the drive to Boston. Gerard made an effort to chat during breakfast about how the baseball season was going, somehow bringing climate change into it, which Oliver didn’t get, and Gerard himself seemed unable to track. Was he wondering if Elizabeth’s outing involved meeting a boyfriend? Gerard half-heartedly helped clear the table and said it was OK for Oliver to spend the day with his friends before disappearing into his office. Would a bottle and glass be produced from a drawer?

  Oliver said a prayer this wouldn’t happen. Whatever his lack of closeness to his uncle, there were times when he felt sorry for him and Elizabeth and the way they seemed to be in danger of destroying their marriage. He did the breakfast dishes and then went upstairs and laid on his bed for a while reading one of Miss Emily’s books. This one was called Intrigue in Interlaken. The heroine, who had overheard two men talking in a train corridor about smuggling watches – the conversation had taken place in Finnish which she spoke fluently – was being relentlessly chased by a masked and goggled figure down a ski slope called a black diamond. It was quite exciting and he liked the girl because she had a boxer dog named Mozart and a cat called Chopin; but again his hope was that he’d look up to see Nat on the window seat. It didn’t happen, even after he opened his eyes from a brief doze.

  At ten thirty he set off for Sarah’s. She told him that she’d just been on the phone with Evan and that he’d sent his love and was so proud of his setting aside his fears to take the inhaler out to Rolling Stone. She also asked if he’d like to call Brian and see if it would be all right with his parents if he came out to lunch with them in Ferry Landing before they went to see Grandpa at one.

  ‘Cool!’ Actually Oliver was a little worried that Brian might be feeling on the outs with him because he had yet to persuade Gerard and Elizabeth to a sleepover at the Cully Mansion, which would allow for a midnight exploration of the cellar. But there was no trace of crabbiness in Brian’s voice when his mother put him on the phone. When they arrived to pick him up he was waiting at his open front door – with his glasses askew as if he hadn’t wanted to waste a moment straightening them – and a smile the size of a crescent moon on his thin face. Good old Brian! Sarah took them to one of their favorite places to eat; it was
similar in its good home-style food and friendly atmosphere to Matey’s in Sea Glass. And they soon got to addressing each other by the pirate names Grandpa had given them along with their wooden swords.

  ‘I’ll have to remember to keep this straight when I tell Evan,’ Sarah laughed. ‘You, Brian, are Captain B. Curdle and Oliver is Walker Plank. That should set him quaking. I’m OK; I can fight you off with my knitting needles.’

  During the meal they filled her in on other prime examples of their exploits over the years. Oliver brimmed with happiness that Sarah and Brian had taken to each other big time. Before leaving the restaurant plans had been outlined for activities during his visits to Bramble Cottage and Brian asked her if she’d teach him to knit along with Oliver – and Evan, when he was there. It was when they dropped Brian back at his house that he brought up the hoped-for overnight stay at the Cully Mansion.

  ‘I’m going to make it happen soon, Bri. Promise.’

  ‘What a nice kid. I can see why the two of you are such great friends,’ said Sarah on the drive to Pleasant Meadows.

  ‘He’s like a brother. Although,’ Oliver paused, ‘that doesn’t always mean as much as it should. Gerard could have stood by my Dad when he married Mom.’

  ‘Perhaps he wanted to, but was afraid to stand up to his parents.’

  ‘I’d rather think it was that, rather than liking the idea of being the only one to get their money.’

  Sarah pulled into the parking area. ‘I’m with you; I’d prefer to believe gain didn’t come into it. If so what bitter irony if there wasn’t anything like what was expected by way of an inheritance? There are people who talk and spend big without a thought for the future and it could be your paternal grandparents were in that category.’

  Mr Braddock came out of his office to walk them down the hall to Grandpa’s room and then tactfully retreated. Grandpa lay in his bed by the window with his eyes closed. Willie Watkins was seated on his bed jabbering to himself.

 

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