As they approached the channel back into Round Lake, Jonathan moved up to take over the wheel. Louise slowed the boat and changed places with him. As he got behind the wheel he noticed another boat coming out of the channel toward them. It was a large sailing yacht, about 40 feet, he estimated. It continued to draw nearer and he heard Louise say, “Emily, that looks like the Harris’ boat. Isn’t that the Windrift?” she asked.
Emily lifted up in her seat looking over the windshield of the Chris Craft. Jonathan had seen the boat before. It was kept at a dock just down from theirs. He didn’t think he knew the Harris family. His father’s business did very little work with sailboats. The two boats came alongside each other, about fifty feet separating them.
“Oh, look Emily, it is the Windrift. There’s Connor,” said Louise. Jonathan turned and saw three young men in the rear of the sailboat. At the wheel, one of them was staring back at him with a face he knew only too well. He saw the girls waving next to him. When he looked back up at the sailboat, Connor Harris was glaring back at him. It had been a few days since their encounter on the street, but he could feel the scrapes from his fall start to burn again.
“Hello boys,” yelled Louise as the boat passed.
Emily just waved, then looked ahead up into the channel.
Chapter Nine
It was close to 2 o’clock before Sally was able to get down to the gallery that Sunday afternoon. She walked along the storefronts down the main street of town, oblivious to people walking by her. She was caught up in her thoughts about the visit from the Clarks and how poorly she had acted. She had sat for over an hour out on the sun porch after they’d left. She kept trying to sort out her emotions and make sense of her feelings.
When she got down to the gallery, she quickly walked to the back. She saw Gwen talking to some customers and nodded to her as she passed. She got back to her studio and closed the door. She walked slowly around the room looking at the work that was scattered in various stages of completion. She noticed a stack of several paintings in the corner and felt herself pulled in that direction. She kneeled down and looked at the first work, a landscape she had started of the high bluffs along the lake near Cross Village. She sorted through the other paintings until she came to the last, leaning against the wall.
She could feel her heart falling from her chest into the pit of her stomach. An ache spread through her and she sighed out loud, “Oh no….”
Before her was a painting that appeared about half finished, a small girl sitting on a porch chair surrounded by flowers. It was a piece she hadn’t seen in years and she had clearly blocked it from her memory. She stared at it now and felt the familiar crush and weight of pain and mourning she had tried to put behind her so many years before.
The little girl in the painting stared back at her. Sally felt tears gathering in her eyes and dripping down over her cheeks onto the floor below. She looked at the familiar smile of the girl. Her mind took her back to the night of the accident as clearly as if it was all happening again… the night of the boat accident… the night she had lost everyone.
Gwen walked in and saw her crouched in the corner, staring at the painting. “Oh honey, what’s happened? Here, let me help you,” Gwen offered as she went to Sally’s side and put her arm around her. “Come on, let’s put that away. Let me get you something to drink.” She helped Sally to her feet and the paintings fell back against the wall, the little girl’s face disappearing behind the other work. They walked over and sat together at the desk on the other side of the studio.
Sally tried to keep from crying uncontrollably and she held a hand over her mouth, trying to get her emotions in check. She reached out for her friend and put her arms around her and sought comfort in her embrace. Through her tears she managed, “Ever since I saw the little Clark girl... I’ve tried to put it out of my mind for so many years. She’s about the same age as …”
Gwen interrupted, “Sally, please don’t let yourself go back there. I could see this coming last night on the boat when we were with Alex and his daughter.”
Sally squeezed her more tightly and buried her face in her sweater. “You would think after so many years…”
George Hansen was down at the docks speaking to a couple who had just tied up their boat. He noticed Alex and Megan Clark going by on the walkway along the docks and he called to them. They stopped and Alex waved as George excused himself from the couple and walked over to the Clarks.
“So, what did you think of our little boat parade last night?”
“George, I’ve been to some pretty spectacular events over the years, but last night was really a treat. We may have to come back every year,” said Alex.
“You will be more than welcome to come back every year,” George said. “It looked like you had quite a party going on board the EmmaLee last night.”
Megan answered first, “We had a band and everyone was dancing and I got to dance with Sally, and a boy.”
George bent down and felt his old knees creak. “And what did you think of the Venetian boat parade, young lady?”
“The lights on all of the boats were so pretty” Megan said. “Did you see the EmmaLee when she was all lit up?” the little girl asked and before he could answer she continued, “… and the fireworks were great!”
“Well, I’m glad you had such a nice time.”
Megan continued to speak quickly, “We went to see Sally’s house this morning and I got to go down to the beach, but Sally got sick and we had to leave.”
George stood up and turned to Alex with concern in his voice, “Is she okay?”
“I’m not really sure. We were having lunch and we were going to look through some of her old photo albums of her family and the boat and she started to get very upset.”
“What did she say?” George asked.
“She got very emotional and I could tell it was a bad time. I offered to come back another time and we left.”
George Hansen reached out and touched him on the shoulder and began walking with them along the docks. “There’s a lot of history in those albums and some not so pleasant memories for our Sally. She’s a strong and wonderful woman and she’s made a great life for herself here, but there were some darker times she occasionally struggles with.”
“I was afraid it was something I said. I made some reference to Gwen that seemed to upset her some,” Alex said.
“No, I doubt that had anything to do with it,” George said. “She and Gwen have been together for years and that part of her life seems to be going along just fine.”
Alex looked at his new friend and shook his head, “Maybe you should check in on her. I told her I’d call her later, but I’m worried.”
George took a cell phone from the inside pocket of his jacket. He keyed in Sally’s number from memory and listened as it continued to ring. He finally disconnected the call. “She may well be down at the shop by now. I’ll head up there in a bit and see how she’s doing. Thanks, anyway. I’ll let you know.”
Alex said, “Well, tell her we talked and we certainly don’t need to spend time with those old albums if it’s going to upset her.”
George stopped and patted him on the back. “Call her later. I’m sure she’ll be feeling better.”
Alex nodded and turned with his daughter and continued along the walkway. George watched them walk away through the milling crowds, past all of the big boats tied up for the festival. He turned and walked up the hill through the park to the main street of town. It was another incredibly hectic day in Charlevoix with traffic and shoppers crowding in all directions. He crossed the road at a stop light and walked down the block in the direction of Sally’s gallery.
When he walked through the front door he saw neither Gwen nor Sally anywhere in the shop. A few customers were walking around. He went to the back and knocked on the closed door to the studio. Gwen opened the door and he could see Sally sitting at the desk in the rear.
“Hello ladies,” George said. “I just want
ed to stop by and say hi.” He saw Sally was wiping her face with some tissues.
“George, it’s not a great time,” Gwen answered. “We’re kind of right in the middle of something.”
Sally sniffed in the background, looking away at the floor, “George, I’ll call you a little later,” she said.
“Can I help with anything?” he offered.
“No,” said Gwen, “we just need a little more time here.”
“Okay, but just call if you need anything. You promise?”
“Sure, thanks George,” Gwen said. “We’ll see you a little later.” Gwen closed the door and George turned and walked out of the store. He couldn’t get rid of the helpless feeling he had inside. He wished there was something he could do, but as he thought back on the years he had shared with Sally’s family, he remembered how much of their fate had always been beyond his control.
Chapter Ten
There’s an old saying about “trying to get out of a hole” that says you have to stop digging. My friend Jonathan found himself in one of those holes that first summer he met Emily Compton. Try as he might, he just kept digging himself in deeper and deeper.
He finally told me about his boat ride with the two summer girls. He tried to explain how he was selling a boat and had to give them a ride. I reminded him that my sister was his steady girl and he brushed the whole thing off as boat business.
After a while, he also told me the guy who almost ran him over on his bike was real interested in Miss Compton and not real happy with Jonathan about the boat ride. I guess I wasn’t too surprised to hear that. I remember quite clearly telling him again to come to his senses and get this girl and her boat out of his brain. I could tell my advice didn’t seem to catch, as it went in one ear and quickly out the other.
Jonathan had walked by to pick up Catherine Hansen at her house just after dinner on Saturday night. He was taking her to the movies to see the new John Wayne film that had just come into town. They were standing in line out on the sidewalk with about twenty other people.
Jonathan had been working hard on the Compton boat for the past three days and figured he would have it ready to deliver by Monday. He had tried to keep Emily Compton out of his thoughts, but it had been damn hard with her new boat there in front of him hour after hour. He had called Catherine last night to ask her out and to try to ease the burden of his guilty feelings. She had a babysitting job for Friday night, but they had agreed to get together tonight instead.
Catherine was dressed in a simple cotton print dress and brown loafers and she had her hair pulled back in a ponytail. Jonathan thought she looked great and he was grateful to be around a girl he was comfortable with and could make easy conversation.
“I should have guessed you’d bring me to a Western,” Catherine said. “What ever happened to Clark Gable and a good love story on a Saturday night?”
Jonathan put his arm around her and pulled her closer. “John Wayne will kiss the girl tonight,” he said. “You just watch.”
Catherine rolled her eyes and elbowed him in the ribs. He pushed away and looked back over her shoulder. He saw a group of people coming down the sidewalk that included Emily Compton. Louise Kelly was with her and two other girls he hadn’t seen before. Louise spotted him first. He felt a mild panic come over him and he turned back and looked ahead at the line into the theatre in front of them. He held his breath, waiting for the inevitable.
“Hey, Jonathan.” It was Louise. “Hey, Jonathan, how are you?”
He turned and watched as Catherine turned to see who was calling. Emily now saw him standing there and smiled back at him. The two girls broke away from their group and came over.
“Hi, Jonathan,” said Emily. “How’s the boat coming? I meant to stop by earlier today.”
Catherine squirmed a bit and Jonathan could tell she was not pleased with this new development. He started to make some introductions. “Emily and Louise, this is Catherine Hansen. To Catherine, he said, “Emily and her father are buying a boat from us.”
“Hello, Catherine. It’s nice to meet you,” Emily said with a gracious and genuine smile. Jonathan couldn’t help but notice how terrific she looked…the hair, the light make-up and the clothes.
Catherine nodded and tried to manage a smile in return. She turned and gave Jonathan a look that clearly said, I’m not very happy about this. Make them go away!
“Emily, I put a last coat of varnish on the hull this afternoon,” Jonathan said. “I have a little more bottom work to do tomorrow and I should have her ready for you by Monday. My dad will call yours as soon as it’s ready.” Jonathan was sure they were going to mention something about Horton Bay, or going fishing. He was just waiting for it to bring this evening to a crashing ending. He could tell Emily was trying to be sensitive to his situation, but looking into the eyes of her friend Louise, he could tell she wasn’t going to be able to resist. Sure enough…
“Jonathan, will you be able to take us out on a test run?” she began.
“Sure, sure,” he interrupted before she started in on their previous voyage. “Look, we need to get into the show, or we’re going to miss the beginning. We’ll call as soon as the boat’s ready, probably Monday morning.”
“Okay Jonathan, thanks,” said Emily. “It’s nice to meet you Catherine. Enjoy the show.” She smiled again at Jonathan. “Good night.”
Louise backed away with her friend with mischief clearly burning in her eyes. “Night, you two,” she said, then turned and walked away.
Jonathan stood for a moment trying to sense the mood of his girlfriend and what he should say next. Catherine beat him to it.
“You certainly meet some nice people down at the boatyard,” she said. “I take it they’re summer girls? That dress must have cost a fortune.”
“Yeah, I think,” Jonathan stammered. “Hey, we need to get inside.”
Catherine looked him square in the eyes, as if she was looking for some further clue to what had just transpired. “Now you wouldn’t let those summer girls catch your eye would you, Jonathan McKendry? I hear they chew up local boys and spit them out just for fun.” She had a look that he hadn’t seen before. He couldn’t tell if she was really mad, or just digging to see how he’d react.
“Come on, Catherine. What’s a rich summer girl like that going to see in some poor local boat painter?”
“Oh, I think they see plenty in this poor little boat painter.” She elbowed him in the mid-section again, then pulled him by the arm up to the ticket window. “He’s buying, two please!”
Luke McKendry was sitting at his customary stool down at The Helm. It was just past 10 o’clock. He looked down at the glass of beer in front of him. It was about a quarter full. The rising bubbles from the bottom of the glass had caught his attention. He could feel the comforting effects of the night’s beers working through his body, numbing the pain and dulling the senses. He was oblivious to the people around him at the bar. The bartender came over.
“Another round, Luke?”
He nodded and swallowed the rest of the beer in front of him, sliding the glass back across the bar. The old man filled the glass from a tap in front of Luke and put it back down in front of him on a small square napkin.
“You remember much about the other night…that scrap you got in?” Bud asked.
Luke looked up and tried to focus on the man and what he’d said.
“Those boys tore you up pretty good, son. You need to watch your mouth when you’re drinking like this. I tried to get you home, but there’s no reasoning with you on nights like that,” the old bartender said.
Luke finally realized what he was talking about. “Those sonsabitches got more ‘n they gave, Bud. You seen ‘em back in here since?”
“No, they were boat people, just passing through. They were as drunk as you were. You took an interest in one of their women. You remember?”
Luke didn’t remember anything, except waking up back at home, feeling and looking like hell. “Thanks
for trying to help. What we do, go out back?”
“Yeah, I didn’t want you knuckleheads tearing up my bar,” Bud said. “I was about to call the sheriff over, but I figured you didn’t need to spend another night down at the jail.”
Luke looked at himself in the mirror across the bar. The image had become a familiar scene for him. Even in the dark light of The Helm he could see the bruises under his left eye and the cut along his cheek. The rest of his body was starting to heal up. His ribs were still sore.
His father had thrown him out of the house that next morning. Luke hadn’t even protested. He just got up and walked out the door and hadn’t been back. He’d been staying with an old friend over on Clinton Street. He needed to find a job. Maybe old man Burt needs some help on one of the fishing boat crews?
“Luke, I heard your Pop throw’d you out,” the bartender said. “You need anything until you get set-up? I’ll try to do what I can.”
Luke nodded without looking up from his beer.
“Why don’t you get the hell outta here tonight? You’ve had plenty. I don’t want to be scrapin’ you up out back again,” the old bartender said.
“Yeah,” said Luke. “Hey Bud, I gave those boys a good go the other night, didn’t I?” Luke looked at the old man through drooping eyes.
“Luke, there was three of ‘em. I tried to help, but they was about to kick my ass, too. You didn’t have much chance, son. You got to watch yourself. don’t want to hear about them putting you in the ground someday for the long sleep. You hear me?”
Luke shook his head slowly, trying to remember what had happened that night. He picked up his glass and drank the whole beer in one long drink. He put the glass down and took a deep breath. He felt the beer hammer his brain and work through the rest of his body. He stood up and held on to the bar with both hands to steady himself.
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 10
