“What type of car is this?” she asked over the motor’s loud roar.
“A Jaguar. I bought it in England. Would you like to take a turn driving?”
Lillian shook her head. “No, thank you!”
She hadn’t done her hair with such a ride in mind. With her hat removed, her upswept hairdo quickly came loose from its pins, and her long brown hair blew in every direction. She gathered it up with her hand and held it to one side.
“You have beautiful hair,” Oliver told her. “You ought to wear it loose like that all the time.”
“I don’t like it loose. It bothers me.”
He looked out at the road. “It bothers me, too,” he added with a small smile.
Lillian twisted her hair into a bun and held it with her hand as she stared out the window. They weren’t going back to Charlotte’s house. This wasn’t the route she was familiar with.
“Where are we going?”
“Down to the harbor. I would like to take you out for lunch.”
“Oh…” Lillian didn’t know what to say. She was getting tired of arguing with him. That was saying a lot, she realized, considering how much she had always enjoyed verbal sparring. But Oliver Warwick had worn her down. Or was starting to.
That notion scared her.
Still, she told herself that lunch couldn’t hurt. Besides, she was more or less trapped. She had gotten into his car, and now she had to go wherever he wanted.
“Never agree to ride with a strange man in his car,” her mother had warned her. Well, there was reason for that. Even though Oliver wasn’t really a stranger anymore, he was still a man, dead set on having his way.
Oliver parked his car at the far end of the harbor. He helped Lillian out of the car and then took her hand, leading her out onto the dock.
She didn’t see a restaurant or even an open-air snack bar, only a long dock with shorter docks extending every ten feet or so and boats tied up on either side. The docks were crowded today with people working on their boats, hosing them down or doing repairs. A few waved to Oliver as they walked by.
“Where is this restaurant—out here?”
“Who said I was taking you to a restaurant? I said I wanted to take you to lunch.”
“So, you tricked me somehow. Is that it?” she asked sharply.
“I don’t know, did I?” Oliver glanced at her innocently. “Here we are,” he said, “my pride and joy.”
They stood beside a long, sleek sailboat. The hull was a light-colored, highly varnished wood, with black and red trim and a pure white deck. It was a large boat with several sails and a tall mast. The sails were partly raised and they rippled and snapped in the breeze. The deck was wide and covered by a white canopy. The shade underneath looked inviting, Lillian thought.
“So, what do you think?” he asked her.
“It’s a beautiful boat…. Are you taking me for a sail?”
“That was my intention.”
Lillian hesitated. They had been isolated enough driving around in the car, but now she would be out on the water alone with him. Anything could happen.
“Do you sail this all by yourself?” she asked.
“It’s just me, captain and crew rolled into one.”
“Is that safe?”
He laughed. “Usually.” Then, seeing her hesitate, he added, “The water is very calm today and we won’t go far. Just a short sail across the harbor. It will be much cooler out there, you’ll see.”
Lillian met his gaze and sighed. He really was so persuasive. He had a way of getting around her, that was for sure. She would have to be very careful.
“All right. Just a short sail, though.”
He walked around the boat, loosened the lines, then holding one taut, he jumped aboard the boat and extended his hand to Lillian. “Jump down, I’ve got you.”
Lillian pulled off her heels and tucked them under her arm. She jumped down and Oliver caught her quickly around the waist. He hugged her close for a moment. Longer than was necessary, she thought. She pushed him away and took a seat on a canvas deck chair under the awning.
“Why don’t you leave your heels off? You’ll be more comfortable and less likely to stumble if we hit any waves.”
She didn’t answer but didn’t put the shoes back on. Her hair was undone, her shoes were off…she was in shambles. And they hadn’t even left the dock yet.
What would anyone think if they saw her?
Oliver used the boat’s motor in order to steer out of the tight dock and crowded harbor. They were soon out on the open water. He shut down the motor and raised the sails.
“Do you know anything about sailing, Lillian?” he shouted back to her.
“Not a thing. I’ve never liked boats much.”
She knew he had gone to some trouble to get her out here, but she didn’t see any reason to spare his feelings.
She had been boating many times. It was hard to avoid it when her family spent summer vacations up here. But she had always hated motor boats, with all the noise and the smell of gasoline making her feel seasick. Sailing was somewhat better, but she was no great fan.
“You were right about the breeze,” she conceded. “It’s much cooler out here…and quiet.”
Oliver stood at the steering wheel in front of her. “I thought you would appreciate the solitude.”
Was he getting to know her likes and dislikes already? Lillian brushed the thought aside. He didn’t know the first thing about her.
The sleek craft cut through the blue water, gently rising and falling with the waves. Lillian leaned back and closed her eyes. She finally let go of her hair and it blew behind her like a banner.
It was very quiet, only the sounds of the water flowing past, the creak of the ropes and wood, and the wind in the sails. The canopy above protected her from the harshest light, but the sunshine still felt warm on her skin.
Sailing can be pleasant, she thought. This is very relaxing…
Lillian never even realized she had fallen asleep in her chair. She simply opened her eyes to find Oliver standing over her, holding out a glass of iced tea.
“I’m sorry.” She felt flustered. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. It must be the sun.”
She straightened up and took the drink he offered, sipping it quickly. How stupid to fall asleep like that. She imagined him watching her while she slept and it made her feel uncomfortable, as if he had been spying on her.
“It’s the perfect afternoon for a nap. I’m glad you felt so relaxed.” Oliver sat down next to her. She set her glass on a small table and then quickly gathered up her windblown hair. She pulled some pins from her pocket and stuck them into a knot at the back of her head.
Oliver smiled at her, and Lillian gave him a look. “I realize this isn’t your preferred hairstyle, but it isn’t your hair, either.”
He laughed. “I didn’t say a word.”
“You didn’t have to. I know what you were thinking.”
He shook his head, looking suddenly serious. “Not at all. You don’t have any idea what I’m thinking about you, Lily.”
Lillian picked up her glass and took another sip of tea. She looked out at the water then turned to face him again.
“You didn’t tell me that you’ve been married. And divorced.”
Oliver looked shocked by her question, but only for a moment. “Does that matter to you?”
“Not at all. I just thought it was odd, since you told me so many other things about yourself yesterday. I wondered why you left that chapter out.”
He shrugged. “It was a long time ago. I was very young, only eighteen and about to be shipped out to France. She was my high school sweetheart. So we got married. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“How long did the marriage last?”
“About three years. Though we actually only spent about three months together. When I got out of the army and came home, she told me she had met someone else. She was young and pretty and she had been lonely.” He
shrugged. “It happened that way for a lot of guys I knew back then.”
“You don’t sound very upset about it.”
“I was at the time. But as I said, that was a long time ago, over ten years. I look back now and see that it was all for the best. A man should be at least thirty before he settles down and chooses a wife.”
“Perhaps,” Lillian agreed.
“I didn’t mean to mislead you. I was afraid you wouldn’t want to see me because of that. I was right, wasn’t I?”
“I didn’t want to see you again anyway,” Lillian reminded him. “So it really wouldn’t have made much difference.”
“I think you do want to get to know me better. But something holds you back.”
His observation hit a nerve, but Lillian did her best to ignore it. “That’s just wishful thinking on your part. I’m not sure why you’re so intent on starting a relationship with me, Oliver. Probably because I’m not in awe of you, like all the other young women around here.”
“I like a challenge. And you certainly present one—on the surface anyway.” He turned to her and smiled, then took her hand. “Besides, we already have a relationship, Lily. You just won’t admit it.”
Lillian sighed and stood up. She walked over to the railing and looked out at the water and the village of Newburyport now some distance away. “I wish you wouldn’t talk like that. If you continue to, I’ll have to go.”
Oliver laughed at her. “Jump in. It’s a great day for a swim, though I hear there are sometimes sharks in this water. Careful they don’t have you for lunch.”
She turned her head quickly and glared at him. “Speaking of lunch, where is this place you’re taking me to? Or was that just a trick to get me out here?”
Oliver walked to the other side of the boat and trimmed a line. Then he stepped over to the steering wheel again. “We’re almost there. The dock is coming into view. See, over there.”
Oliver pointed ahead to a sharp hillside where thick woods met the shoreline. All Lillian could see through the trees was a very large stone house with several chimneys atop a black slate roof. A few outer buildings were tucked into the green hillside, and a dock extended out at the shore, a small boathouse just beyond it.
“You’d better sit down again. I’m going to drop the sails and motor in.”
Lillian returned to her chair. She still had no idea where they were going to end up, but Oliver was too busy for further explanations.
She took a moment to repair her appearance, smoothing out her hair again and adding a dash of lipstick. She put her suit jacket on, fastened the buttons, then put on her hat and shoes.
The boat pulled up alongside the dock, and a man ran down to meet them. Oliver tossed him a line and the man pulled them in closer. While the man secured the boat to the dock, Oliver jumped out and then helped Lillian up.
“Vincent is waiting with the car, sir. Will you be going out again, or shall I close up the boat for you?” The man, who looked old enough to be Oliver’s father, spoke with an Irish accent.
“No, we won’t be going out again. Thank you, Patrick.”
Oliver took Lillian’s arm as they walked up the dock. She still didn’t know where they were, and she was getting worried.
As they left the dock Lillian could see that a wooden path led over a short sandy stretch of beach to a narrow paved road. The road was flanked by dense, shady woods and seemed to lead up the steep hill. A shiny black sedan was parked at the end of the road, and a man in a chauffeur’s uniform stood by the car.
Lillian stopped and looked up at Oliver. “Where are we?”
He paused, as if deciding what to say. “Lilac Hall, our family home. My parents are expecting us for lunch.”
“You brought me home…to meet your parents?” His audacity was astounding. He might even be a little unstable, maybe some trauma, from the war. “I’ve only known you for two days, Oliver. Do you take many women home to meet your parents?”
“Only once before. My first wife. But we’ve already talked about her.”
“I can’t meet your parents. What will they think?”
He laughed. “They’ll think I’ve finally met a polished, sophisticated, intelligent young lady.”
“Come on, Oliver. Be serious.” Lillian was thoroughly frustrated with him. She had no intention of getting in that car and having lunch with the Warwicks. “I can’t meet your family. It wouldn’t be right. Take me back to Newburyport. Right away please.”
“If that’s what you really want.” His expression was innocent but unrepentant. “But we are here. And we are hungry. And they are expecting us—”
“Which is none of my doing,” Lillian pointed out.
“What should I say? What excuses should I make?”
Lillian hated lies, even tiny, social ones. “Oh, I don’t know. Say I’m seasick from the sailing.”
“They’ll wonder why I didn’t bring you inside to rest.”
Lillian sighed with exasperation. He wasn’t giving up on this, was he?
“I’m sorry, Lillian. But it’s rude to cancel at the last minute. They’re going to be very disappointed.”
Now on top of everything else, he had her feeling guilty and ill-mannered. She stared at him, not knowing whether to scream or laugh. She had never met such an outrageous man in her life.
Lillian took out her gloves and tugged them on. “All right, I’ll go. But this is it, Oliver. I mean it.”
“Thank you, Lily.” He forced a serious face, as if he was trying hard not to laugh at her. “Honestly, you’re going to enjoy this more than you think.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Cape Light, Present-day
“CHARLIE, PLEASE. JUST STAY WITH HIM FOR A FEW HOURS. I’ll be back by lunchtime, I promise.”
“You knew he was going to miss school today. Why didn’t you find a sitter?” “I tried. It’s hard to find someone to come in the middle of the day.”
Not that Lucy even knew that many sitters. The hours at the diner made it hard, if not impossible, for her and Charlie to go out in the evenings much.
“I need to go to the hospital for a meeting. I’ll come right back.” Lucy kept her voice low. Jamie was in the family room, lying on the couch and watching cartoons. She didn’t want him to hear her and Charlie arguing over who was going to stay home with him today.
When Charlie didn’t answer, she added, “It’s the first week. I can’t miss sessions this early in my training.”
Charlie shook his head and pushed his plate aside. “Sorry, Lucy. I have deliveries coming in, a guy coming to fix the freezer, and bills to pay. There’s no way I can stay home this morning. I told you that last night.”
He had told her. But that was before she called all over town for help and came up empty-handed. She had thought she might persuade him this morning by compromising and only going in for part of the day.
Now she would miss a meeting of the student nurses on her floor with Margaret Sherman. She dreaded the idea of calling to say she would be absent. Sherman didn’t like her much as it was. This was going to be one more mark against her and give the impression she wasn’t serious and responsible.
Charlie took a last sip of coffee, set the mug down in the sink, and kissed Lucy on the cheek. She stood stiffly and didn’t kiss him back. With his head ducked down as he pulled on his jacket, he left the house.
She heard the front door close and felt stuck, abandoned. But there was nothing she could do. She picked up a few of the breakfast dishes and dumped them in the sink, then poured herself more coffee.
Even if she made more calls and did find someone, by the time a sitter got to her house and she got up to the hospital, the meeting would be over. Half of her day would be over. It wouldn’t make any sense.
She picked up the phone and dialed the hospital. When an operator came on, she asked for Margaret’s line.
“Margaret Sherman.” Her greeting was crisp, no-nonsense.
“Margaret? It’s Lucy Bates.”
Lucy felt her mouth going dry. She was losing her nerve. She forced her words out in a rush. “I’m sorry but I can’t make it to the hospital today. My son is home sick from school, and there’s no one to stay with him.”
Margaret didn’t answer for a long moment. Her silence made Lucy even more nervous.
“Nothing serious, I hope?”
“Just a cold and a sore throat. But he has a temperature and I needed to keep him home.”
“Yes, of course. They can’t go to school with a fever.” Lucy heard some papers rustling. “Let’s see…you’ll miss this morning’s meeting. I’ll have to see you privately to review that information.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
“We only permit three absences from training. This is only the first week and you’re already using one up.”
“Yes, I know. But it couldn’t be helped. My husband has a business and he had to go in today. He—”
“When you have a real nursing job, situations like this are going to come up. You’re going to need to be better prepared. People will be counting on you. Did you ever hear that Woody Allen saying ‘Ninety-five percent of the secret to success is just showing up’?”
Lucy sighed. “No, Margaret, I don’t think I ever did.”
The way she was talking to her was so unfair, Lucy thought. As if I’m the irresponsible type, a regular slacker. She has no idea how hard I work and what I can really do.
“This won’t happen again. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Let’s hope not,” Margaret said. “I’ll expect you on time tomorrow.”
Lucy hung up, feeling deflated and depressed. There were a million jobs around the house she had to catch up on. The kitchen looked like a tornado had struck, and the laundry was piled to the ceiling, and she didn’t feel like tackling any of it.
Jamie wandered in and walked over to her. She felt his forehead with her hand, pushing back a short fringe of brown hair. “How do you feel, honey?”
He shrugged. “I’m bored. Can you play a game with me?”
A Christmas to Remember Page 11
