Julia touched his arm.
“I can only hold John off so long,” he told her more quietly. “He can only hold the others off so long.”
Leaving her hand on his arm, Julia asked Kim, “Could you write the answers to questions we asked?”
Kim closed her eyes. Turning away, she put her head on her knees.
“Okay,” Noah tried. “Here’s another thought. They know that Artie was involved in bad stuff, and they know he was doing it with bad people. Those people are dangerous. You may think you’re safe as long as you don’t talk. But if those bad people get nervous enough, they may want insurance that your silence will last. John can protect you, but only if he knows what you know.”
The hand on his arm tightened, but he didn’t need the warning. He knew the danger of pushing Kim too far. Julia wasn’t the only one who could imagine the girl throwing herself over the cliff. What Julia didn’t know, though, was that he had a weapon to fight that.
Crossing to where Kim sat, he hunkered down in front of her. Very quietly, he said, “I know who he is, Kim.”
Her eyes grew wider.
“There are times when you thought it was me,” he went on, “but I was never with your mother. Talk to us—give us information—help us, and I’ll help you.” Nancy might not want the man identified, but Kim was over twenty-one, and perhaps this was part of Noah’s responsibility. “He never knew, you know. He was here and then gone.”
Kim was hanging on his every word. She pressed her lips together, then opened her mouth, and for a minute he thought she was going to speak, but the only sound that came out was a short bit of breath, immediately lost in the headland wind.
Having offered the carrot, Noah said, “Artie was working with a man from Florida. Do you know who he is?”
Kim gave a frightened head shake.
“Did he ever mention the names Curt Haber and Kevin Welk?”
Another frightened head shake.
“Did he tell you anything about his work?”
A third frightened head shake.
“Were you having an affair with Artie?”
This head shake was firmer.
“Were you on The Beast with Artie that day?”
This time there was no head shake at all. Kim straightened and was looking at him as if to say, I’m not stupid. You’re trying to trip me up.
“I’m not the enemy, Kim. I don’t even know who the enemy is. That’s why I need your help. But okay. Here’s another thought. Have you been on the water since the accident?”
Distrustful still, Kim simply stared.
“I didn’t think so,” he concluded, deciding that this was a brainstorm. “Me, I’ve been everywhere else but where the accident happened. Same with Julia. So let’s put that demon behind us. We’ll go out together, the three of us. Plus my son, whom you’ve never met. He’s seventeen and wants to pretend nothing ever happened. He could use the reminder.” And Kim could use the jolt, Noah figured. Even if it didn’t help, nothing was lost. “I’ll be at the dock tomorrow at four o’clock. We won’t be out more’n an hour. You know where the slip is. Four o’clock.”
Driving back to Hawks Hill, Julia kept glancing at Noah—kept remembering their time at the trap shed and feeling the warmth, kept telling herself that she had no business flirting with him, kept marveling that it felt so good.
But he was looking distracted, clearly concerned about Kim, so she refocused. “Do you think she’ll be there tomorrow?”
He drew in a long breath and pulled himself back from wherever he’d been. “I don’t know. It just seems like the right thing to do. Maybe it’s a selfish thing. Gives me an excuse to take Ian there.” He shot a questioning look at Julia, eyes haunted in a way she hadn’t seen since the days immediately following the accident.
“It’s a great idea,” she said. “It certainly can’t hurt.”
“Assuming she shows up. The fact is, she needs a shrink.”
“She won’t see one. I’ve asked her. I’ve asked Nancy to ask her. She’s clearly afraid to talk.”
“Or guilty. Very guilty.”
“Of what?” Julia asked, desperate to know. “Do you really think she was involved in smuggling illegal aliens?” She couldn’t imagine that Kim would knowingly do that. The girl seemed too innocent—too sensitive—to be involved.
“My problem,” Noah replied, “is that she’s been silent now for more than two weeks. If it’s from shock, that should be easing. Same with grief at losing Artie. So maybe she’s silent out of guilt. But guilt at having slept with a married man? I don’t buy that. She’s seen it too often. She certainly wouldn’t be scolded for it by Nancy or June. But she is scared of something.” He shot her another glance. “Do you agree?”
“I do. Do you really know who her father is?”
He nodded. “My first college summer, three of my buddies came back here with me to work. He was the wildest of them. He waited tables that summer and went back to school with grand plans to do Wall Street after graduation, but he played too much, and his grades showed it. He settled for the family business, which folded a few years later. He hasn’t made any money, so it’s not like he could have helped Nancy or Kim. He’s a nice enough guy—clueless professionally, clueless socially, but nice enough.”
“Is he married?”
“Yes, with two kids, maybe three.”
“Would he want to know about Kim?” she asked. She guessed that the only thing worse than not knowing the identity of your father was knowing that he didn’t want to have anything to do with you.
“I could convince him,” Noah replied.
Julia didn’t ask how. She didn’t want to know. Her concern in this situation was Kim. She was thinking that she ought to take Molly along for the boat ride on the chance that someone Kim’s own age might make a connection, when Noah pulled off the road into his drive. Several minutes later, when the truck made the last turn and the house appeared, it was as though thinking of Molly had conjured her up. There was the little Plymouth of Zoe’s that she was using, parked by the front door.
Julia shot Noah a quizzical look and climbed from the truck the instant it came to a stop. The activity inside the house was centered around the kitchen. Molly was there, as was Ian, along with food on the counter, pots on the stove, dishes on the table. Half a dozen things seemed to be in the works. Something smelled divine.
Seeing her, Molly said an indignant, “I came over here thinking you’d be alone and hungry, in which case I’d cook you dinner, since I have the night off. Instead, I found Ian. We’re making bouillabaisse and, quite honestly, there isn’t enough for four.”
Noah passed Julia and went to the stove. He peered into the largest pot. “That smells incredible. What’s in it?”
Ian answered. “Scallops, mussels, clams, monkfish, and lobster.”
“I thought you didn’t like lobster.”
“Cooked this way, it’s palatable.”
“Palatable?” Molly echoed, pulling her chin back as if from a blow. But she was strong on the rebound. “It’s more than that. If you don’t love this, there’s something wrong with your taste buds. Could be immaturity,” she added with a smirk. “Hand me the cayenne, would you?”
Ian handed her the cayenne. Seeing them side by side, Julia couldn’t help but think that they were two handsome children. Molly was adorably chic with her short blonde hair—yes, she had to admit that her daughter’s short hair was chic—her etched features and slender curves, and Ian was appropriately taller, more muscular, and apparently willing to help.
Noah was still at the stove, albeit now out of the line of immediate work. “There’s lobster meat in the freezer,” he offered. “If we defrost it, there might be enough in there for four.”
“ Frozen lobster?” Molly asked. “In this bouillabaisse? I don’t think so.”
“What if I drive down to the store for extra ingredients?” he tried, but she summarily vetoed that idea.
“The island store
doesn’t have the freshest. Rick has the freshest.”
“Then I’ll drive down to the Grill.”
“Rick’s off for the night.”
Noah pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “How about I call Rick. He’ll tell whoever is on to give me what we need. Would that work?”
Julia tried not to grin. It looked like he had her.
But Molly wasn’t so easily bested. Quick-tongued—she was, indeed, her father’s daughter—she began ticking off a list. “You’ll also need another baguette, a leek, and a fennel bulb. And pick up a starter— let’s say two orders of escargot and two of the hearts of palm salad. And a blueberry tart for dessert. Buy the large size. Ian’s starved.” She grinned at Noah.
“Thank you,” Julia said several hours later. She and Molly sat on the leather sofa in the living room, alone now, both slouched low with their heads on the back of the seat. Sealed in by fog and drizzle, the house was more homey than ever, made even more so by the lingering scent of the stew’s garlicky tomato base. “Dinner was fabulous.”
Molly smiled. “It was good.”
Julia reached sideways and caught her hand. “Thanks for being civil.”
“Civil?”
“Warm. It wasn’t that hard, was it?”
Molly grunted. “No. They’re okay people. They did the cleanup.”
“What did you think of Ian?”
“He’s too young for me.”
“Not that way. As a person.”
“Ask me again in five years. Right now, he’s still into adolescent angst.”
“Spoken by a veteran twenty-year-old.”
“You know what I mean. He’s angry.”
“So are you lately.”
“I have cause. My life is in chaos. I don’t know what’s happening. There have been so many changes since high school, and now this— you. You just seem so different, so independent.”
Julia tried to make light of it. “Isn’t that a good thing?”
“Yes for you, no for me. You were always predictable. Now it’s like I don’t know what you’re going to do next.”
In fact, Julia didn’t either. Spontaneity was a luxury she hadn’t tasted much of in the past. “Some things never change. I’ll always love you. I’ll always be there for you.” When Molly slid toward her, she opened an arm. “We do things I never did with my own mother.”
Molly looked up from the crook of her shoulder. “You had the time. She didn’t. She worked.”
“Many working mothers have the kinds of relationships with their children that I have with you. It has to do with attitude.”
“Quality time.”
“Uh-huh.”
“So, how does it feel being independent?”
“Novel.”
Molly grew more cautious. “You’ve had time to think. Do you know where you’re going?”
Who am I? Julia still wasn’t sure. There were no manuals for reinventing a life. It was all trial and error, feeling her way along, one day at a time. “I’m still working on it.”
“But you’re not going back to New York,” the girl said, laying down the gauntlet, and the old Julia would have hemmed and hawed and said what would be of comfort to Molly. The new Julia needed to be more honest.
“A year ago, I would have said yes, because that’s what everyone there seems to want. But it’s not a simple decision. There’s nothing win-win about divorce.” She felt a tremor in Molly and held her tighter. “I’ve been blessed with a healthy daughter who is on her way to a fabulous career. You’ll be taking your own roads, Molly, and I wouldn’t dream of holding you back. You’ll be finding things that make you happy. I want to do the same. I’m only forty. With a little luck, I may have another forty years to live.”
“Dad loves independent women.”
He certainly did, Julia realized with a stab of bitterness. Unfortunately, he didn’t consider her to be one. Independence wasn’t part of his definition of her. She wasn’t sure he could change that definition, any more than he could control his need for other women—and for the first time she wondered if she cared. She was angry at Monte. Time and again, he had betrayed her. He might say that she had abandoned him this summer, but the truth was that he was content to have her gone.
Another truth? She was content to be gone. It was nice not feeling the pressure of seeing to his every need—nice not having to suffer the backhanded little jabs he was so adept at slinging. If it wasn’t, Your man didn’t give you the best piece of swordfish today, it was, Don’t you need to comb your hair? or, You’re not wearing that suit tonight, are you? or even, Once in a while, it’d be nice if you got on top.
Julia was delighted to be free of that. She didn’t know whether saving the marriage for the sake of saving the marriage would work anymore.
“If you didn’t go back to New York,” Molly asked, “would you stay here?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes. I feel like you’re getting involved in a world I don’t know, like I’m going to lose you.”
Julia smiled. “That’s just how I felt when you started college. I was convinced that what we’d had between us was over and done, that my little girl was off on her own and that things would never be the same— and I was right. They won’t ever be the same. But different isn’t bad. Actually, different is good. It can even be better. I like the relationship we have. It’s very adult.”
“You seem peaceful about this.”
Julia did feel peaceful, surprisingly so, given that her stomach still churned when she thought about Monte. He was unfinished business, a huge question mark. Saying the word “divorce” aloud was one thing, facing the reality of it was far more terrifying. Her future was a mystery. That, alone, was cause for fear.
Peaceful? Committed was probably a better word.
“This feels like the right thing,” she said, “like I’m heading in the right direction. Actually, it feels good to head in any direction. I’ve been static too long.” But not since the accident. Like Kim, she felt a jolt, reliving that night. Her past had exploded right along with the Amelia Celeste and The Beast . The result felt like liberation. “As for my getting involved in a world you don’t know, that doesn’t have to be. There’s actually someone I’d like you to meet. What time do you start work tomorrow?”
“Two,” Molly said.
“Oh, dear. That’s too early. We’re taking Kim out on the Leila Sue. She hasn’t been on the water since the accident. We’re hoping it’ll give her a little push, maybe some closure. You and she are close in age, and you’re so good with people. You could be a real help.”
“What time are you going?” Molly asked.
“Four.”
Seeming pleased, the girl smiled. “I’ll be there.”
“But work—”
“Rick is as worried about Kim as everyone else. He’ll give me a few hours off.”
Naturally, Julia brought food. It wasn’t that this was a party, though it was in fact a rite of sorts, but bringing food was simply what she did. She doubted that part of her would ever change—and in this case it wasn’t bad at all. For one thing, Noah and Ian were starved. They had just finished washing down the boat after a day of work, and though they had put on dry clothes, they were flagging. Their eyes lit up at the sight of Julia’s insulated bag. Warm drumsticks, wedges of thick grilled cheese, and hot cider hit the spot on another foggy day, when the dampness defied the arrival of July and gave the salt air a chill. Her choice of offerings was validated when Rick Greene, who lived with Maine weather all the time, sent Molly along with bacon-wrapped scallops and grilled portobellos, all hot. They opened the bags on the console and helped themselves while Julia filled cups from the thermos. And that was another thing. Noah was pretty adorable when he was famished and trying to be civilized about it, while his son, the supposedly civilized one, scarfed food down.
Noah was pretty adorable anyway, Julia thought—and she wasn’t, no, she wasn’t flirting with him. But being near him
gave her a buzz. Who wouldn’t want that?
Four o’clock came and went. Noah and Ian had eaten the bulk of the food but were deliberately leaving some for Kim. By 4:05 Noah was glancing at his watch. Pulling his Patriots cap low on his brow, he exchanged a worried look with Julia. By four-ten he was scanning the shore through the fog, and Julia was fearing that their efforts were in vain.
At four-fifteen, a blue car appeared. When it parked a distance from the pier, Julia had her doubts, but the woman who climbed out did look to be Kim. She wore the same hooded jacket she had worn on the bluff and presented the same diminutive figure. Head lowered, she hurried down the dock toward the Leila Sue. As she neared, Julia saw that under the hood she wore a black watchman’s cap, under which she had piled every last strand of her hair. With that hair hidden and no other distinguishing feature in sight, she could pass for any one of the local women.
She didn’t want to be seen. Julia could only begin to imagine the courage it had taken for her to come. Courage, desire to heal, need to revisit the site of the crash, perhaps simply the wish to cooperate with Noah, who had information she wanted—whatever, she was there. She kept her head down as she climbed aboard. It was only when she was hidden half inside the wheelhouse that she raised her eyes to acknowledge the others, but those eyes were worried. She looked from face to face when she was introduced to Molly and Ian. She shook her head when they offered her food, at which point Noah said, “Are you sure?” When she nodded, he and Ian finished off what was left.
Noah backed the Leila Sue from her slip and picked his way out of the harbor. There were more boats now than had been here two weeks before. Pleasure craft had joined the usual gang of lobster boats at moorings. The summer folk had arrived.
The Leila Sue passed a particularly handsome boat. Her canvas was up; inside its cover, lamps lit a group of forlorn boaters.
“They can’t be happy with this weather,” Julia remarked. “Will it clear for the weekend?”
The Summer I Dared: A Novel Page 28
