Life Guards in the Hamptons

by Celia Jerome

  My cheeks felt as hot and red as a stewed tomato. For sure my brain was as mushy as one. “I, uh, um.” And I thought I could write books.

  “Come on, Willow. You knew there was something between us. I know you did. I’d hoped—”

  I shook my head, hoping an ounce of sense broke loose. “No, the circumstances made us— That is, made you think there was more than us working together. Unseen dangers, uncertain events. You know, the closeness of comrades in a foxhole. That’s all.”

  “You know it was more than that. You got rid of the fireman.”

  Piet was staying at my house, not in my bed, no matter what everyone thought and the matchmakers at the Royce Institute wished. And I told Piet to go without a minute’s doubt. Regret, yes, because he happened to be close to a knight in shining—or smoky firefighter’s—armor. Just not this maiden’s knight. “He wasn’t helping. He had to leave.”

  “You didn’t have to leave, though. I kept calling. I thought we had something special.”

  “I know. I saw the messages when I got here this afternoon.”

  “I didn’t have your cell or phone number in New York. I didn’t want to ask anyone here for them and start up a frenzy of speculation. I sent you an email. Why didn’t you reply, or call me?”

  Because I felt guilty. “Listen, I messed up. You weren’t supposed to see M’ma.” I remembered Melissa in the other room, most likely listening. “What we saw that night.”

  “You mean the fireworks on the beach?”

  That was safe, except the dazzling display wasn’t pyrotechnics, it was pyro-beetles lighting up the almost dead whalelike creature that helped hatch them, after he turned into a god. That didn’t make sense even to me, who was right there and ought to be used to such impossible occurrences when the otherworld got involved. How could Matt understand what he’d seen, or how much trouble he was in for witnessing it? I put him in jeopardy. Coward that I am, I couldn’t face that, or his rejection.

  “Did they hurt you? Threaten you? The, uh, town officials.”

  “They came to visit me and we had a talk. The mayor, the chief of police, Rick from the boatyard, the barber, your grandmother, some others. We chatted, your grandmother passed out muffins, they left.”

  “Oh, God. What was in the muffins?”

  “Blueberries. She said Susan baked them.”

  That was all right, then. Susan’s cooking could spread cheer or calm or patience when she chose. “But you shouldn’t have seen it. Maybe a firecracker or two, or when the harbor police set fire to the oil slick in the water. Everyone with a view saw that blaze. As for the rest, you must have thought we were all crazy. Me, especially.”

  He brought a lighted magnifying glass over to Red’s foot and stared at the sores, dabbing with the cloth. “Listen, I saw what I saw because you granted my wish to see.”

  “Not me. M’ma. That is, my neighbors.”

  “Half of them right there couldn’t see it. I asked. A lot of the others forgot everything but the fireworks.”

  That’s the mayor’s effect, when he remembers his duties to protect the village.

  Matt shook his head. “I saw what had been a maggot-covered creature rise up and fly—”

  I looked back toward the reception area. “Don’t say anything else, please. You must not.”

  “I know. I promised the town elders. And I know how much trouble you got into for letting me stay and watch. But you have to understand, that was the most amazing, earth-shaking experience I’d ever had. I might never understand what occurred, but I’ll cherish it for the rest of my life. Privately, I swear. Not that anyone would believe me if I did tell. I swore to the council to keep it quiet and they accepted my promise.”

  Of course they did. The police chief must have lined up every truth-seer in the village. And Grandma Eve might have threatened him some, too, or doctored Susan’s muffins. Paumanok Harbor did not take chances with exposure. “But they didn’t wipe your memory?”

  “No, although they led me to believe they could.”

  “They could. And they haven’t been mean to you? Ostracized you?”

  “Like the locals used to do to the newcomers to town, meaning anyone not born here or related to a native? No, if anything they’ve been friendlier than ever. My practice is so busy I’m thinking of taking on a partner.”

  I didn’t believe him. I knew this town and its attitude to outsiders, especially ones who threatened the old secrets. “There’s no one in the waiting room.”

  “I take Wednesday afternoons off usually, unless there’s surgery or an emergency.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry to bother you, then. But I was worried about Red. He’s so small, and he’s suffered so much already.”

  “It’s all right. I understand how these guys get to you. And they can’t tell you where it hurts.”

  Well, they could tell my mother, but I wasn’t pushing the issue. How much weirdness could one man absorb?

  He sprayed something on Red’s right leg. “He’ll need antibiotics for the sores, but it’s not chiggers. Dogs rarely get them, especially not ones on Frontline.”

  “At least you didn’t accuse me of neglecting my dog. I appreciate that. He gets the puppy size one every month. I’ve never seen a tick on him.”

  “I’ve seen you cry over a dying creature and I’ve seen you try to rescue injured fireflies. I’d never believe you could neglect an animal. I think that’s what made me lo— Anyway, a flea might have bitten Red before it died. Dogs can get allergic reactions. Or something else could have caused what’s commonly called hot spots. They’re a bacterial infection or moist dermatitis and drive dogs crazy. Sometimes stress can do it, too. Maybe he didn’t like being carted off to the city and apartment life.”

  Was that a hint that Matt didn’t like me leaving Paumanok Harbor? I told the dog how good he was behaving, only growling between his closed jaws.

  I told Matt, “He did fine in the city.” I lied.

  “I’ll give you some of this spray for the sores.”

  He sprayed Red’s other foot, but did not wrap the legs.

  “Won’t he lick it off?”

  “It’s made to taste bad. Dogs leave it alone. If not, we can put one of those plastic cones around his neck. I try to avoid them. Dogs hate them at first, and bump into things. The air is better for healing than bandages, anyway. I’ll also give you some drops to help him relax.”

  “A tranquilizer?”

  “Nothing heavy-duty, just a calmative so he doesn’t worry at the sores.”

  “My grandmother used to make up something like that for my mother, for the dogs she rescues.”

  “Where do you think I got it? If that doesn’t work to keep him from gnawing on himself, we’ll have to switch to prednisone.”

  “But he’ll be okay?”

  “Sure. Bring him back in a couple of days if he’s not. That is, if you’re here that long.”

  Was he fishing for information? Hinting he cared? Or snidely assuming I’d scarper off as soon as I could. “I don’t want to put him back on the bus or in a carry case so soon. And my grandmother needs help.”

  “Yeah, I heard it’s a circus out by the farm. Good. And get something for those bites of yours. No, I have half the bottle of shampoo left. If you wait till I make one more round of the kennels, I’ll go across to my house to fetch it.”

  “That’s okay. I need some things in town. I’ll stop by the drugstore and talk to Walter myself.”

  “Uh, I have a better idea. Why don’t I go with you? That way you’ll see that the townsfolk don’t mistrust me. We can do your errands and pick up my dry cleaning while we’re there. Then maybe we can have an early dinner? Nothing fancy.”

  “I’m not staying here long.”

  He held up his hand. “Just dinner and dry cleaning. That’s all I’m asking.”

  I thought about it. And putting off Grandma Eve for a couple of hours. “Okay, but I have to get back in time to talk to my family, see what they
think I can do to help with the traffic.”

  We decided I’d go home, get Red settled in, and feed the other dogs. By then Matt’d be finished at the kennel, while the stores in town were still open. We’d meet at the library, because it closed earliest. I wanted to see if Mrs. Terwilliger had any books mentioning the oiaca. And I wanted my own car, so this didn’t count as a date.

  “Great,” Matt said. “I don’t like eating alone all the time.”

  “What about Melissa?”

  “She drives back to Hampton Bays. That’s why I told her to leave early, to miss the traffic.”

  But she hadn’t left. She waited at the desk, her purse packed and waiting, tapping a pencil, the possessive little bitch. I bet she had a crush on her handsome uncle, or hero-worship or something. She sure as hell didn’t want to share him.

  Or let me go without paying for anything but the antibiotics and the ointment. She scowled when he told her to write off the office visit as a courtesy call.

  I wasn’t sure about that either. “But you spent time with us, on your afternoon off.”

  Matt waved that away. “You can buy me dessert.”

  Miss Priss was fuming by now. “What about the emergency fee?”

  Matt smiled at me. “Oh, we always waive the extra fee if it’s a true emergency. I’m not out to rip people off, especially when they care so much about their pets.”

  “Do hot spots qualify?”

  “Sure. They could lead to infection or loss of appetite, which can be dangerous in small dogs.”

  I almost stuck my tongue out at Melissa. Instead I asked her, “Could you hold Red please, while I write the check for the pills and the spray? I don’t want to put him down in case any sick dogs came in earlier.”

  She had no choice when I thrust the Pomeranian into her arms. Little Red peed on her. I have to admit I thought he might. He did sometimes when he got mad enough at being manhandled. And when I squeezed him on the handover.

  CHAPTER 5

  I HAD NO TIME FOR A SHOWER, but this wasn’t a date, right? I spritzed some perfume, walked the dogs in a baseball cap to flatten the curls, looked in the fridge to make a list, and left messages for my mother and father so they’d know where I was.

  I called my grandmother on my cell from the car. I know I shouldn’t drive while distracted. I was afraid of getting a ticket or getting in an accident. I was terrified of hitting a deer.

  I was more afraid of my grandmother. If she found out I’d arrived two doors down without calling until the next day, there’d be hell to pay. Susan undoubtedly told her as soon as she left my doorstep.

  With luck, Grandma Eve would be busy browbeating the birdwatchers and I could leave a message. Yeah, and with luck I could win the lottery and move to the south of France. Not that I spoke French or knew anyone there, but that wasn’t the point.

  Not only was my grandmother home, she had caller ID and knew my cell number.

  No “Hello, who is this?” Just, “Well, it’s about time, but I suppose dogs come first, like they always do for your mother. Perhaps if she paid more attention to her own—”

  “Little Red will be fine, thank you.”

  After a few such pleasantries, I said I’d be by later. No, I didn’t need to come to her house for dinner. Yes, I ate healthy meals in the city. I’d fetch something while I did errands in town. We were low on dog treats, I’d forgotten to pack deodorant, and Susan told me the porch light burned out yesterday but that there were no replacements in the utility closet. Grandma Eve wouldn’t want me coming home to darkness, would she? I doubted she’d care, except Susan stayed here, and my cousin got off work at the restaurant in the middle of the night.

  “Susan said the dog was sick?”

  “He’ll be all right. I thought it was chiggers, but Dr. Spenser says not.” Dr. Spenser, not Matt. I couldn’t afford to give her an opening.

  “What about you? Jasmine said you called her about the parasites.”

  “I have it under control now.”

  “Why didn’t you call me? I could have told you what to do. Lord knows I treat everyone else in this town who’s foolish enough to go rambling in the weeds without long pants when it’s cool and damp.”

  “I, ah, didn’t know I was coming out to the Harbor until the dog got sick, so I couldn’t fetch whatever you thought I needed.”

  “It’s at every drugstore. Lice shampoo.”

  Damn. “I know that now. I’ll see you later.”

  I think she muttered, “It’s about time” again, then she told me to get off the phone and put both hands on the wheel.

  “It’s okay. I’ve got Bluetooth.”

  “I don’t care if you’ve got a gold tooth. It’s dangerous and stupid and rude. Besides, the sooner you finish your errands the sooner you can get here and do something about those dreadful ornithologists.”

  I don’t know what she imagined I could do when no one else seemed to have an idea. At least she wasn’t blaming me for the onslaught of ecotourists. She did say she was glad I came.

  She must be desperate.

  Maybe I’d ask Matt what he thought could be done about the rare bird.

  Or maybe Mrs. Terwilliger at the library had a book on exotic South American species, what they ate, how long they lived, how far they traveled. Or a law book concerning private roads and trespassers.

  We agreed to meet at the library steps. I saw him waiting at the top, so I drove past to find a parking spot where I could pull in. No way did I want to try parallel parking with him watching. Not that I lacked confidence, of course, or that it mattered what he thought. This still wasn’t a date.

  He had a Giants sweatshirt on over his polo shirt, which made me wonder if he ever played football in high school or college. He was tall enough, at least six-two, I guessed, and broad. I knew he was strong from seeing him pick up Mom’s fat old retriever without effort. And his agility had shown when he rescued Red. Fit best described his physique, even in a baggy sweatshirt.

  Fit and casual and unconcerned that I was late. Good, he didn’t treat this as a date, either.

  So I could swallow my last breath mint, stop worrying I had hat hair instead of dandelion head, and hurry back to the library before he worried I wasn’t coming. I’d earned his doubts.

  He smiled—in relief?—when I climbed the steps to where he waited, looking over the village green and the stores on either side. The church faced the library, actually the old school building, across the treed and grassy area in the middle.

  “Looking good,” he said.

  “The town square always looks nice in the fall, before the trees lose their leaves and the garden clubs’ flowers have all died.”

  “I didn’t mean the village.” He didn’t wait to see if I blushed—I did, the plaguesome curse of fair skin—simply turned and held open the door to the library.

  A couple of people sat at the computer desks, someone I didn’t recognize browsed the fiction stacks, and one of the high school girls earning public service credit wheeled around a cart full of books to be reshelved. Mrs. Terwilliger sat behind the front desk like the Queen of England surveying her kingdom. Lord knew Mrs. T was nearly old enough to be Her Majesty’s mother. She’d been here forever, and always had a pile of books waiting for me. Sometimes they were books I’d requested; sometimes they were what Mrs. Terwilliger thought I needed to read. She was usually right. Uncanny, but not unusual for Paumanok Harbor.

  “I’m looking for a book about the rare South American bird that’s—”

  “Oh, no, dear, you want this one.”

  The book she handed me had to do with mythical beasts.

  “I’m sorry, but I’m not doing research for one of my books, just for what’s at Garland Farms.”

  She took another off the stack clearly marked Willow Tate. This one had tropical fish on the cover.

  “But I don’t—”

  “You will.”

  Oh, boy. No one argued with Mrs. Terwilliger, ever. Not unles
s they wanted their library card permanently lost. Besides, I didn’t want to make an issue of it in front of Matt, or draw attention to one of our town’s minor eccentricities. I took the books. The bestiary looked interesting, at least. The next one, by James Herriot, had always been a favorite of mine.

  “I’m sure I read this years ago.”

  “Yes, but this time you’ll have different eyes.”

  Cryptic but pointed, definitely embarrassing, except that Matt was looking at the poster board to check upcoming events, talks, and movies.

  The last book in my pile had a couple on the cover, in historical garb. Mrs. Terwilliger loved Regency romances and passed on her favorites to everyone. I enjoyed them when I had the time for pleasure reading. Not everyone gave them credit for being intelligent, well written, and entertaining, so I slipped it under the others before Matt could read the title, The Bargain Bride.

  “It’s about compromising,” the white-haired librarian told me.

  “A compromising situation?” That was a popular theme in historicals, when the couple was found in flagrante delicto or merely kissing, and had to wed to save the woman’s reputation. As far from modern mores as it could get. Honor meant more then.

  “No, just compromising. You might learn something.”

  Another jab.

  I stepped aside and Matt took my place. Clearly I was dismissed now that I had the books Mrs. T had selected for me. No matter that I really wanted one on Patagonia. I wandered toward the travel section. “Those are all out,” she called after me.

  So I waited while she lifted an encyclopedia-sized tome for Matt, a technical book on heart disease in dogs.

  “I got it through inter-library loan,” Mrs. Terwilliger told him. “I thought you’d like to see this before you spent a hundred and forty-five dollars on it.”

  While he flipped the pages, she told me how her cousin’s dogs in Georgia had both died of congestive heart failure. “That’s not going to happen in Paumanok Harbor, not if I can help it.”

  “Or I,” Matt said.

  I looked at the other books the ruler of the library dispensed to Matt, curious as to his taste and the librarian’s opinions. The new Reacher mystery, two of my books, and Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus.