Indian Summer

by Tracy Richardson

  Tables are arranged poolside in front of the thatched roof cabana. They choose a table under an umbrella, and a waitress pulls herself away from her conversation with the bartender to take their order. Mostly burgers and salads are served outside. They place their orders, and Kaitlyn signs for the meal saying, “It’s great not to have to carry any money here—especially since I don’t have pockets!” She smiles and glances at Conner.

  They spend an enjoyable afternoon swimming and relaxing by the pool. Everything they could want is provided for them—towels, sunscreen, soft drinks, and snacks are all available from the cabana. I could get used to this life, thinks Marcie. It seems like it’s free, but she knows it comes at a price, and it all goes on Mr. Swyndall’s bill. The house, the sailboat, the Yacht Club—everything. She feels a twinge of guilt about using his hospitality while trying to fight the James Woods development, but only a twinge. As the waitress sets another drink down next to her chair, she turns her head away and slathers on more sunscreen.

  Fifteen

  “I DIDN’T HAVE too much luck with the petition, but the newspaper was interested,” says Eric. They are sitting in the rocking chairs on Al’s porch after dinner. Al glides gently back and forth on the swing, and Pansy is curled up on her cushion in the corner. “I actually did some work today while you were off sailing and lounging at the Yacht Club,” he says testily to Marcie.

  Annoyed at Eric for honing in on her conflicted feelings about her relationship with the Swyndalls, she retorts, “I was practicing for the Regatta, as you well know. You’re just worried that our team will beat the Boat Company team. And besides, if I hadn’t been over there on Sunday, we wouldn’t know about the development at all. Consider me a spy for our camp.”

  “We’re not worried,” he replies, but he is only somewhat mollified, and adds, “Still, you were having fun while I was going door to door with the petition. Most people were sympathetic and signed, but nobody felt strongly enough to help us take a stand against Swyndall and the developers. It was really depressing how resigned everyone is to letting him tear down James Woods and build luxury vacation homes.” He glances over at Al, who so far hasn’t said anything, but is listening intently. “The worst was old Marge Appleton who asked me to change the light bulb in her pier lamp post, and after I had done it she forgot that she had asked me and kept asking me to do it again. We went round and round with that for a good five minutes, and she never could understand about the petition or the development.” He sighs, leans forward in the chair with his elbows balanced on his knees and rests his chin in his hands. “Maybe the newspaper article will get public opinion against it.”

  “What happened to the gung-ho crusader of yesterday?” asks Al. The rays of the setting sun glint off his reading glasses as he gestures with the pencil he’d been using to do the crossword puzzle. “It’s too soon to give up. Marcie’s got Mr. Clements working on it, and the newspaper article will definitely create a stir. People around here may be slow to action—but get them riled up and who knows what could happen? There may be other forces at work around here that we can’t control.”

  “I’m glad you’re confident,” says Eric, “because the newspaper reporter is going to call you for an interview to get the local residents’ point of view after he gets the details from the zoning department.”

  “I would hope that my opinion will carry some weight with the community. I’ve lived here all my life and know just about everyone in town and on the lake.”

  “I think it’s our only hope,” says Eric, burying his chin in the palms of his hands.

  WEDNESDAY MORNING IS rainy and gloomy. A steady drizzle soaks the grass and Mamaw’s flower beds—she’ll be happy about that, thinks Marcie—and low-hanging clouds turn the sky and lake a dull gray. Marcie has taken a book to the loft and is cozily ensconced on the window seat surrounded by pillows and snuggled under a quilt. She likes days like this when you can hang around not doing anything in particular. The rain has a calming effect on the world, and the repetitive sound it makes on the roof of the sunroom below is reassuring. As much as she enjoys the outdoors, sunny days can make you feel pressure to go out and do something fun and exciting. It’s nice to have a break. The phone rings downstairs, and a few minutes later Mamaw calls up. “Marcie, it’s your mom on the phone. Hurry, she can’t talk for too long.”

  Marcie is reluctant to leave her quilt cocoon even though she’s wanted to talk to her mom for days, but she runs down the stairs to the kitchen phone.

  “Hi, Mom!”

  “How are you, hon? I’ve missed you and the boys.” Her mom sounds just the same even 2,000 miles away.

  “I’m good. I miss you, too.” She hesitates. “I’ve been practicing with Kaitlyn for the Regatta. How’s the dig going?”

  “We’re getting ready to go back out right now. Its only 8 a.m. here. The students are doing well, and we’re finding some great stuff. I still can’t believe this site—an untouched example of western cave dwellers. It was on this rancher’s property all these years. He knew about it, but didn’t tell anyone until after his death when he left instructions in his will to give the land to the University of Utah. Amazing.” Marcie can hear the excitement in her mom’s voice. “What about you? Any luck stopping the development?”

  “We’re working on it with Al. Eric’s doing a petition, and he got the newspaper interested. They’re going to run a story in this Saturday’s edition with an interview of Al against the development. I even called Mr. Clements to see if he could help. I’m not sure if he can do anything, though.”

  “I’m sorry Marce. I wish there was something I could do to help.”

  “Well …” Marcie wonders if she should tell her. Part of her wants to tell someone about all these things that are happening, but part of her isn’t ready to talk about it. Don’t tell her. There’s nothing to it. She has enough to worry about at the dig.

  “What is it, honey?”

  “I guess I’m just discouraged. It doesn’t seem like we’re getting anywhere.”

  “Maybe one of the things you’ve got going will work.”

  Eric and Drew come into the kitchen wet from the rain and dripping water onto the tile floor.

  “I want to talk to mom now.” Drew reaches for the phone.

  “Hang on a minute. Let me say goodbye.” Marcie swivels away from his grasp. “The boys are here, I have to go.”

  “Bye hon. Keep trying—you never know what can happen.”

  Sixteen

  WHEN LUCY ARRIVES with Michael and Jayne to spend the afternoon at the cottage, the sun is burning off the last remaining clouds from the morning’s showers.

  “It looks like we’re going to have a nice afternoon, thank goodness. Fishing and swimming in the rain isn’t very fun,” Lucy says while unbuckling Jayne’s car seat and handing her over to Marcie.

  “Hello, baby,” coos Marcie and gives Jayne a big kiss.

  “Not baby, big girl.” Jayne pats herself on the chest.

  “Yes, a very big girl!” laughs Marcie. “You’re heavy!” She sets Jayne down on the driveway. “Why don’t you be a big girl and walk, and I’ll hold your hand.” To Lucy she says, “Mamaw has set up the wading pool in the yard, and Poppy has the fishing poles out by the dock. Eric and Drew are already down there. Do you want me to change Jayne into her suit?”

  “That would be great,” Lucy replies. “I still need to get the rest of the paraphernalia out of the car—including Michael!” She gives Marcie a flowered bag with clothing in it. “Her suit’s in there somewhere.”

  “Okay. Let’s go swimming, Jayne.” Marcie leads the toddler into the house.

  Jayne is too little to swim in the lake without an adult, so they have a wading pool and water toys for her to play with. Marcie plays tea party with Jayne, and they serve everyone “tea” with water from the pool. Then Jayne wants to water the flower garden, which entertains her for quite a while. She doesn’t do much actual swimming in the pool, but her vivid imag
ination provides plenty of ideas for play. When Jayne wants to play mermaids with her Barbies, Marcie decides she’s had enough. The boys have already tired of fishing and are swimming in the cove, leaving Poppy to fish by himself. Marcie wants to get back to the book she was reading this morning and the empty hammock beckons her. She goes onto the porch to get her book and a pillow, passing Mamaw and Lucy on her way.

  “I’m going to read in the hammock for a bit, so I won’t be watching Jayne.”

  “That’s fine,” says Lucy. “Thanks for playing with her. I really appreciate the break.” She and Mamaw are sitting in the shade of the maple tree in lawn chairs. A few minutes earlier Al and Pansy had joined them and the three of them lined up in a row look like a panel of officials judging an event.

  “While you’re up, would you bring out the pitcher of iced tea in the fridge and four plastic glasses?” calls Mamaw. “Relaxing is thirsty work.”

  “Sure.” Marcie gets the drinks and a soda for herself and puts everything on a tray to carry it out. She places the tray on the low table by the chairs and pours out drinks for the adults. The fourth drink is for Poppy, so she carries it to him at the dock.

  “You’re a sweetheart,” he says to her as he takes a long drink.

  “How’re they biting?” Marcie asks.

  “Not bad—see for yourself,” he says, pointing to the fish basket that hangs over the edge of the dock into the water. As Marcie leans over and pulls it up, water cascades through the mesh sides and bottom to reveal five large blue gills and one croppy.

  “These all look like keepers to me!” she says. She knows he must be pleased.

  “They’ll do—I’ve even thrown several back. Eric and Drew gave up too soon. Do you want to join me?”

  “It’s tempting, but I’m going to read in the hammock for a while.” She crosses the yard to the little rise where the hammock is suspended between two oak trees. The angle of the trees allows her to see the yard and the wading pool and down to the dock and the slide where the three boys are playing. She gets the hammock swinging gently with her foot on the ground and then lets it rock slowly to a halt before pushing off again. After a while she glances down and sees Jayne standing on the grass a few yards from the pool playing with Pansy. Jayne is laughing because every time she tries to walk forward toward the lake Pansy gently blocks her. Marcie smiles to herself, but doesn’t think much about it and goes back to her reading. She assumes the adults are paying attention.

  A few minutes later, she hears Pansy barking and Jayne crying, and she sits up to see what is going on. Jayne is much closer to the water than before, but she is sitting on the ground bawling and Pansy is standing between her and the water barking very loudly.

  Marcie has had several dogs as pets, so she knows that they have different barks to mean different things. This bark was not your friendly “hello” bark or an angry bark for the delivery man, but an insistent “something is wrong” bark. Lucy jumps up from her chair and rushes over to Jayne saying, “No Pansy! You’re scaring Jayne. Bad dog!” Pansy stops barking and crouches to the ground with her head down and her tail between her legs in a submissive pose.

  Marcie runs down the hill “Wait!” she calls out. “I saw the whole thing. Jayne was trying to get around Pansy to get to the water. Pansy tried to block her, but couldn’t so she barked to get our attention.” She stops to catch her breath. “Pansy saved her from falling into the lake!”

  “Oh!” Lucy exclaims. “I guess we were a little engrossed in our conversation. I didn’t notice that Jayne had gotten out of the pool until I heard Pansy barking. Come here, girl,” she calls to Pansy. “It’s okay. I’m sorry.” She hugs Pansy with one arm and Jayne with the other as Pansy licks both of their faces and wags her tail enthusiastically. “You saved my baby! But how did she know?” Lucy looks enquiringly at Al and Mamaw, and at Marcie, who is also kneeling beside Pansy and stroking her head

  “I don’t know, but she was definitely blocking her from going down to the water. Jayne was laughing—she thought it was a game. I assumed you were all watching and knew what was going on. I’m sorry.”

  “No need to be sorry, we should have been watching,” says Mamaw. “Thank goodness Pansy was there. We always knew she was special.”

  “She is very aware of how I am feeling.” Al clears his throat and adds: “It’s comforting to have her hovering around me when I’m not feeling well.”

  “I’m just glad she was watching out for Jayne. You’re a good dog.” Lucy hugs Pansy more tightly and is rewarded with another swipe of pink tongue on her cheek. She stands up and lifts Jayne onto her hip. “After all that excitement I think it’s time for Jayne to have a nap!” She goes into the house, and that seems to be the cue for everyone else to disperse to their own activities. Mamaw gets her gardening shears to deadhead flowers in the garden. Marcie goes back to the hammock to finish her book, and Al ambles over to watch the boys swim…

  AL SITS IN one of a pair of Adirondack chairs positioned on the lawn to appreciate the best view of the bay. Al has lived his entire life on the lake and has seen a lot of changes during those 80 years. The cottages have grown bigger over the years, and the boats are bigger and more powerful. All the water recreation gear; the skis, wake boards, water trampolines, inner tubes for three, four, five or even more people, is more complicated and technical. Back in my day we had a raft and our swim trunks, or a pail of worms and a bamboo pole, he thinks. Not that it’s all bad or that he wishes for the old days—far from it. He loves the Internet and uses his computer to look up the weather conditions for fishing and to shop online. It’s so much easier than going into the city. And he wouldn’t trade his Zebco fishing pole for anything. Watching Eric and Drew playing swamp monster with Michael, jumping off the diving board, laughing and splashing each other, he knows that the essential things haven’t changed much. Kids and families enjoying themselves and spending time together. The extra trappings are certainly nice, but they aren’t really necessary to enjoy the lake and its beauty.

  He doses off in the chair for a few minutes and then wakes with a start when Eric lets out a yell as he jumps off the diving board into the dark green water. The older Al gets, the more his dreams include family and friends who are no longer living. Sometimes they seem as real to him as the people who are still alive. He thinks it may be because he is getting closer to the end of his life, so he is more attuned to it. It is comforting to visit old friends and loved ones in his dreams.

  “Al, look at my jump!” Drew calls out to him. “It’s a sea slug!” Al obliges by watching Drew leap from the board and land in a belly flop with a tremendous splash. He claps appreciatively when Drew resurfaces. Al feels lucky to have such a good relationship with the Horton family. Spending time with the children really adds joy to his life.

  “What should I do for this dive?” Drew calls to Al.

  Al cups his hands to his mouth and yells, “How about a starfish?” Drew jumps from the board with his arms and legs spread wide and a big smile on his face. Al can’t help but smile, too.

  Seventeen

  AFTER SAILING PRACTICE on Thursday, Kaitlyn and her mom planned to go shopping, but Marcie didn’t feel like tagging along. She finished her book yesterday and wanted to go to the library to check out a new book. She thought sailing practice had gone really well that morning. The four of them are experienced sailors and know what to do in their respective jobs on the boat. It’s more a matter of learning to work together as a team and anticipating what needs to be done and what the others are doing at any given moment so the whole process goes smoothly. Marcie feels confident in her abilities as a sailor and in her role manning the spinnaker and keeping track of the wind flow. Since she didn’t feel any nervousness, she was able to relax and feel the joy of sailing. She never gets tired of the wind in her hair, the movement of the boat on the water, and the exhilaration of feeling propelled through the waves by the wind.

  They did several runs up and down the lake working
on speed and timing, and Kyle was especially pleased with their performance. “Great work everyone,” he said several times. “I feel really good about how we’re progressing as a team. What do you think about racing in this Sunday’s Regatta?”

  “It would be good practice, and we could take a look at some of the competition,” Conner answered. “But would we be tipping our hand by racing before the 4th?”

  “Maybe you’re right.”

  “I don’t know if that will really matter,” Marcie shrugged. “The Sunday Regattas go on all summer long. People with lake houses aren’t here every weekend, and full-time residents don’t race every Sunday. According to Eric, it’s a different race every weekend because the participants are always different. The Boat Company team might be out racing though.”

  “That could be a good thing—we’d see how we stack up. Let’s think about it. We don’t have to decide right now,” Kyle said as they brought the boat in to dock and set about stowing the sails and halyards.

  Now, as she rides her bike along the main road into town, Marcie decides not to tell Eric that they might race in Sunday’s Regatta. She knows he’s been practicing with the Boat Company team this week too, and she doesn’t want them to race on Sunday just to compete with her team. If they race, fine, she just doesn’t want to push the issue.

  She glances up at the canopy of leaves overhead. This is one of her favorite streets. All along the parkway on both sides of the road, enormous ash trees grow. Their branches arch out over the street to meet in the middle, forming a tunnel of green as high as a cathedral. To Marcie, it seems like a king or queen should be riding horseback majestically down the center of the boulevard.