Gwen stirred and made a soft, low moan. Sally pushed the covers away as gently as she could and walked quietly into her closet.
A half hour later, with a hot cup of coffee in her hand, she was walking down the narrow path on the face of the sand dune to the beach below. The clouds were breaking apart now and brilliant blue patches showed through, promising another beautiful summer day. She reached the flat expanse of sand below her house and walked down toward the water. There was a light offshore breeze just starting to build. Soft gusts blew by coming down from the dunes and chilled her. She watched the wind puffs chase out across the still morning waters like frightened schools of minnows scurrying across the surface.
Her feet were bare and she rolled up the legs of her pants so she could walk along the shoreline. Her first step into the water delivered the expected cold shiver. Within a few steps she grew accustomed to the water’s temperature and it felt soothing and familiar. The brown sand along the waterline was soft beneath each step and she left deep footprints as she made her way north along the beach. She saw nothing but empty beach and dunes all the way up to where the beach turned away around North Point.
Sally thought again of her dream. Who was I trying to catch up with?
She sensed someone coming up behind her and turned to see Gwen running toward her across the sand from the path. She had her running shorts on and a black sports bra. She always marveled at her friend’s energy in the early morning. Gwen came up beside her and slowed to the pace Sally was making along the shore.
“Why don’t you join me for a change this morning?” Gwen asked. “It’s only two miles or so up to the Point and back. You’ll be amazed how good you’ll feel.”
“Is that after I get out of traction and intensive care?” Sally responded.
“Alright, but I’m not going to give up on you,” Gwen said. “You know that, don’t you?”
Sally smiled and kissed her on the cheek. “I guess I’ve always known that.”
Gwen answered with a reassuring nod and turned to continue with her morning run. Sally watched her moving away, running with a smooth and graceful motion. She felt a tear welling up in her eye and wiped it away quickly. She took a long sip from her coffee and watched her friend grow steadily smaller down the beach.
She felt tired, even though she had walked just a short distance. She backed away from the water and sat down cross-legged on the sand. Some of her coffee splashed out of the cup and she watched the stain spread and seep into her jeans. She felt as if she could see all of the energy in her body drifting away on the morning breeze. She placed the coffee cup down in the sand and leaned back on her elbows. Looking up, she saw the clouds drifting by and a few gulls soaring on the currents. She closed her eyes and tried to find the place within her that was suddenly so troubled. She hadn’t seen it coming. There had been no warning. The dream had touched a nerve of doubt and anxiety somewhere deep within her. What’s the matter with me?
Was it something with Gwen, some missed signal about their relationship? Was it the recurring guilt she felt about her last days with her parents and the accident? Had her former husband’s indiscretions come back to haunt her again in some new and perverse way? It was an overwhelming weight upon her soul that struck so suddenly she was frightened by its intensity. If she could only make the images focus in her brain. The fragments were still floating out there, trying to connect.
Looking down the beach, Sally saw Gwen was just a small spot, barely visible in the distance. Maybe she had been taking Gwen for granted. She hadn’t sensed any issues beyond the normal and trivial conflicts in their lives together. Earlier in their time as a couple, Sally had been forced to deal with feelings of doubt about a relationship with another woman and the normal fears of taking life in such a different direction. She also had to admit to herself she was concerned with what other people would think. Her parents were gone and her only close family was her two uncles. They had both come to love Gwen as much as she had.
With her friends in the community, the whole notion of the two of them together had just sort of slowly worked its way into the regular routine of things.
After a while, she wasn’t self-conscious or uncomfortable with her relationship with Gwen. But, it had taken time, she had to admit to herself. It made her feel guilty to remember those times and those feelings, but they were real.
She reluctantly let her mind start to drift back to the night of the accident. She felt the familiar cold fear well up within her. She was practiced at allowing her inner defenses to come forward quickly to block the images and the memories. She stood and began running. She ran to the dunes and up to the house, leaving her coffee cup tipped on its side in the sand.
Alex called at half past ten and asked if it was still a good time to come over to look at her old albums. He wanted to bring Megan with him, as well. Sally had managed to collect herself. When Gwen had returned from her run, she didn’t seem to sense anything was wrong. She had showered, grabbed a quick breakfast and headed down to the gallery, leaving Sally alone in the house. The ringing phone had startled her. She had been sitting in the living room staring out at the lake.
At first, she had been tempted to say no to him. Today really isn’t such a good day, she had wanted to say. But, the distraction of having someone else in the house seemed to be the type of escape she needed. She invited them to come over around noon for some lunch.
After she hung up, it occurred to her there was little, if any food in the house. She showered quickly, then ran around to tidy up the house and then she drove up to the grocery store and picked up some food.
What do billionaires eat for lunch? What do little girls eat for lunch? She decided to keep things simple with a salad from the deli and some basic sandwich items. For Megan, she bought some peanut butter and jelly, just in case.
When she returned to the house, it was 11:45. She put the food away and walked into the living room. She looked at the photo albums on the book shelf.
There were three of them stacked together amid the other books, artwork and mementos on the shelves. She was starting to regret her invitation to the Clarks. Did she really want to go back again through all of these old memories, particularly after this morning’s episode on the beach?
The doorbell rang. She took a deep breath, still looking at the albums. She forced herself to turn away and go to the door. She had put on a pair of khaki shorts and a simple white t-shirt. It was her home after all. Why worry about pretense?
She opened the door and saw Alex and Megan standing on the front porch. Alex was holding his daughter’s hand. Sally forced a smile and tried to mask the ache she was feeling inside.
“Good morning,” she managed.
“Hi, Sally. You have a great house!” Megan said, squirming with youthful excitement. “Daddy says you’re right on the beach. Can I go look?”
“Sure, come on in.” Sally led them toward the back of the house to the sun porch. She noticed Alex pausing along the way to look at some of her paintings on the walls.
“You have a wonderful view, Sally. How long have you had this house?” asked Alex as he joined them on the back porch.
“My parents bought this house back in the 50’s. It was originally built twenty or so years before that. I grew up here and when my parents were gone I just never saw fit to leave.”
“Well I can understand why,” he said. “It’s a beautiful house and your paintings certainly help to bring it alive.”
“Daddy, can I go down to the beach?”
Alex turned to Sally, “Is that alright?”
“Of course, Megan,” Sally said. “Just be careful on the path. It’s pretty steep in places. The water is very shallow, but don’t go out past your knees, okay?”
The little girl ran out the back door and disappeared over the ridge of the dunes.
“Thank you again for having us over,” Alex said. “Again, I hope this is a good time for you. I hate to impose on your Sunday.”
“No, it’s f
ine,” Sally answered. “I have to get down to the gallery later this afternoon to help Gwen, but this will be just fine. Would you help me in the kitchen for a moment? We can bring some lunch out here on the porch.”
A few minutes later they were back on the sun porch sitting around a table with a tray of food and a pitcher of lemonade.
“Sally, the boat parade last night was incredible,” Alex said. “I’m sorry we couldn’t spend more time with you and Gwen. I had so many guests, the night just seemed to slip away. I hope you had a good time and thanks for dancing with Megan.”
“No, we had a very nice time and thank you for having us. I hadn’t danced in years. It was a lot of fun,” Sally said.
She poured them both a drink. “I saw the dining cabin and the space you mentioned for the painting of the EmmaLee. I’ll have a few sketches to share with you by the end of the week.”
“Great, I can’t wait to see them,” Alex said.
There was an awkward pause in the conversation. Sally took a long sip from the glass of lemonade. Alex was looking out at the lake.
Sally flinched in surprise when Alex suddenly spoke again, still looking out past the dune line. “Gwen seems so nice. How long have the two of you been…?” he paused, obviously embarrassed for bringing up the subject.
“How long have we been together?” Sally replied with a smile, trying to soften the edge of his discomfort.
“I’m sorry, it’s really…”
“Alex, it’s okay. Gwen and I have been together for quite some time now. She’s originally from New York. We met when she was in town one summer on vacation with some friends.”
“She seems very nice. Is she an artist, also?”
“No, she ran a small gallery in New York. She’s been very helpful to the business here. She has a great sense for it.”
“I can tell. You have a wonderful collection,” he said, hoping to change the direction of the conversation.
“Are you hungry? Let’s get some food started here,” Sally said.
They kept busy in silence for a few minutes, making the sandwiches and preparing plates with salad and some fruit she had cut up. Megan came running back over the hill and joined them at the table on the porch. They ate their lunch, making idle conversation about the boat parade and the party from the previous night. Sally watched Megan eat with enthusiasm and ask politely for more fruit. She chattered on about the boy she had danced with.
Sally struggled to keep her emotions in check. She could feel the dark tide building again within her. She tried to smile as Megan rambled on, but she was struggling to keep her composure, not really hearing what the little girl was saying.
“Sally, are you alright?” Alex finally broke in.
Sally sat back in her chair and looked across at him. Her eyes were growing moist and she knew she was going to start crying. “Could you excuse me just for a minute?” she finally said. “I’ll be right back.” She got up quickly and walked into the kitchen.
She ran water into the sink and splashed some on her face. She leaned on the sink, her head down, trying to hold back the flood of tears. She could hear Megan still chattering out on the porch. She is such a beautiful child.
She sensed Alex in the doorway to the kitchen.
“We’ve obviously come at a bad time,” he said. “I’m really sorry.”
Sally tried to find the words to protest and say everything was okay, but she couldn’t find any words at all. She just stood there staring at him.
“We should really try to do this another time. Is there anything I can do?” he asked.
She didn’t respond.
“I’ll call you later to make sure you’re feeling better,” he said.
She nodded, feeling numb all over and still unable to speak.
“Thank you for lunch. I hope I didn’t say anything…”
“No… no, it’s not that at all,” she answered, wiping tears from both cheeks.
“I’ll call you,” he said, and turned and walked away.
She heard them leaving and the front door closing behind them.
Chapter Eight
I never doubted my friend Jonathan would realize his dreams. You could tell just from looking into his eyes. He had a sense of purpose that was unmistakable. I often teased him about being so serious all the time. It’s not that he wasn’t fun to be around. He had a great sense of adventure and a spirit that was contagious as hell. It was more that he felt compelled to stay true to the course of his life. I think he was afraid if he let the dreams get even the slightest distance away, he’d lose them and never be able to find them again.
He learned a love of building boats from his father and grandfather. They ignited the early spark that grew in the boy. He knew he had to go to college to study design and engineering if he was ever to build the boats he saw in his dreams. He wanted more than to just take over the family business and build a few small boats each year for the summer people. Every time he saw that boat, the EmmaLee, you could tell from his reaction he was watching his dream come to life right before his eyes. He would get mesmerized by the damned thing.
During that summer before the War, we started to talk about what we would do if our country decided to enter the battle. Jonathan talked a lot about joining the Navy. I’m sure he wanted to be near the ships and that it was all part of the dream.
Jonathan awoke from a deep sleep. He heard his brother knocking around their room. It was still too dark to see him clearly. He held the big alarm clock up to the little light coming through the window. It was five in the morning.
“Luke, where in the hell have you been?” he asked, sitting up and reaching for the lamp between their beds. His brother sat across from him on his own bed. He could smell the whiskey on him. “Luke, are you okay?”
“Just shut up and go back to sleep,” his brother snarled. “And leave that light alone.”
Jonathan had heard the slur in his talk and had seen him in this condition far too often. He turned on the light and both of them covered their eyes.
“Godammit, Jonathan! You’re gonna wake the whole damn family,” Luke whispered as he fell back onto the bed, still trying to shield his eyes from the light. Jonathan squinted through the blinding glare of the light bulb. He saw his brother’s clothes were torn and dirty. His hands were covered in dirt and what looked like dried blood.
Jonathan walked over to the bed and pulled his brother’s arm away from his face. Luke tried to turn away, but Jonathan could see he had been badly beaten.
There was dried blood all over his face and several welts and bruises. One eye was partially swollen shut. Some of the blood had dripped down unto his shirt.
“Who’d you get in a scrap with?” Jonathan asked.
“Just shut up and leave me alone!”
“Luke, we got to get you cleaned up before morning.”
Luke turned toward his brother. “If you want to help, get the bottle out of my drawer there.” He pointed to the dresser by the far wall.
“You don’t need any more to drink.”
“Just get it or I’ll have to whip your ass, too.”
Instead, Jonathan went quietly out into the hall and down to the bathroom. He brought back a wet towel. Luke had turned out the light and curled up on his bed facing the wall. Jonathan stood for a few moments thinking about how sad it had been to watch his older brother slipping away.
As a younger boy, Jonathan had always looked up to Luke. It had pained him to see kids teasing his brother and ostracizing him because of the crippling disability with his leg. Luke had always kept to himself and had few friends at any given time. But, he had been kind to Jonathan in those earlier years. He had been a good big brother, helping him out around the boatyard or making time to go fishing. It had been the past couple of years the decline had begun noticeably. The drinking just kept getting worse. The moods became darker.
Jonathan couldn’t place any single event that may have touched off the fall. It had become more notice
able when Luke had finished high school and gone to work full-time for their father in the boatyard. If ever he had expressed an ambition in life, it had been to join the military and get away from home. He had gone to Detroit that first summer after he finished school to take a physical for the Army. Apparently, there was no room for boys with less than two healthy legs. Luke received a letter a few weeks later informing him he had failed the physical. He never talked about the military again.
Jonathan threw the wet towel at his brother’s back and climbed into his own bed.
Later that morning, Jonathan was working in the large boathouse sanding the hull on an old runabout they were restoring. The air was filled with sawdust that shown like a heavy sand mist in the sunlight streaming in the front door. He loved the smell of the wood and its smooth feel beneath his hands. He noticed something behind him and turned to see two people framed in the glare of the open door. He could see it was a large man and a smaller woman, but their faces were darkened in the shadows and he couldn’t make out who it was. The man walked into the building.
“Good morning, son,” the man said, gesturing for the woman to come in with him.
“Hey,” answered Jonathan.
“We’re looking for a boat. Can you help us, or call someone in who can?”
Jonathan got up from his knees and stood facing the man. He was much taller and quite heavy around the middle. He was dressed nicely in a blue blazer and a white shirt open at the collar. Jonathan noticed his shoes. They were black leather and shined brighter than his best varnish finish.
The woman came up by his side and Jonathan saw it was not a woman, but a young girl. Then, he recognized the face, although he had never been this close to Emily Compton before. He felt the air sucking out of his lungs and tiny needle pricks all over his skin. His face felt hot and he became afraid he was turning red.
“Can you help us?” the elder Compton repeated.
Jonathan tried to speak, but choked on his words. He was staring at Emily Compton and was struck by how much more beautiful she was up close than from a distance on the deck of her boat. Emily smiled at him and he thought he would melt right there into a big puddle in front of both of them.
The Seasons of the EmmaLee: One grand ship. Two love affairs, decades apart. An idyllic summer resort town torn apart by betrayal, murder and shattered dreams. (The Charlevoix Summer Series Book 1) Page 8
