Under a Summer Sky, page 18
“It’s okay, hon,” he whispered in her ear, but she wasn’t convinced, and he smiled. For the first time, he was glad they’d come.
37
E opened two bottles of Samuel Adams and handed one to Chloe. “So how’d you like to be my date for the wedding?”
“I’d love to be your date,” she said with a smile. “When is it?”
“The sixteenth of August.”
“Hmm . . . should I get the day off?”
E frowned. “I think it’s later in the day.”
She nodded and took a sip of her beer. “Mmm, this tastes good after a long day.”
“How was work today?” E asked, remembering she’d worked too. He smoothed the blanket behind him and leaned back.
“Busy,” Chloe answered. This was her fourth summer working at Hot Chocolate Sparrow—a favorite coffee shop for the locals and the summer folks. “I think every tourist in Orleans came in today . . . and I have to be there at six thirty again tomorrow.”
“You should’ve said something,” E said, rolling onto his side to lean on his elbow. “We didn’t have to drive all the way up here. My mom said there were fireworks in Barnstable too.”
“I know, but I wanted to come here,” she said, lying back on the blanket next to him. “This is my favorite spot.”
“Why’s that?” E asked, leaning over to kiss her.
“You know why,” she murmured, tasting his sweet lips.
“I don’t remember,” he said softly, “maybe you could remind me.”
She laughed and reached for his hips. “You should remember . . . but I’d be happy to remind you.”
E slipped his hand inside her tank top and rested his hand on her flat stomach. Then he lightly ran his fingers along the curve of her hip bone, and she laughed and pulled away.
“What’s the matter?”
“It tickles.”
“It does?” he teased.
“Yes—let me show you,” she said, slipping her hand inside the top of his jeans and running her fingers lightly along the same area.
E shrugged and shook his head
She frowned and unbuttoned his jeans so she could get a better angle. “How about now?”
He shook his head again. “Nope . . . nothing.”
She pushed him onto his back so his hip bone was more prominent, and then she ran her fingers lightly over it. He kept a straight face for as long as he could and then, laughing, he grabbed her hand.
“Aha! I knew the sweet spot was there somewhere!”
Smiling, he slid his hand between her thighs and murmured, “And where’s your sweet spot?”
She didn’t answer as he slid down her shorts, but she pushed down his jeans and boxers and pulled him on top of her. “I can’t wait,” she whispered, and he kissed her softly. Slowly, she arched her back and took all of him in.
“I love you so much,” he whispered.
“I love you too,” she murmured, rocking her hips slowly back in forth.
Finally, he eased off and lay beside her, lightly tracing circles on her smooth skin. “I don’t want this summer to ever end,” he said wistfully.
She smiled. “Only one more year ’til you graduate.”
“Two for you.”
“It’ll go quick.”
“Not quick enough. I want to be with you all the time. I want to get married and be together every minute.”
“That day will come,” she said gently.
“I don’t know . . . I don’t even know what I want to do. Sometimes, I feel like college is a waste of time. Any job I get will take me away from here . . . and this is the only place I want to be.”
“I don’t know what the future holds, E, except that we’ll be together . . . and that’s all that matters. I just know we should enjoy every moment . . . and tomorrow will take care of itself.”
E smiled sadly and kissed her. “You sound like my dad.”
She looked back up at the stars. “My grandfather used to say that all the time. Tomorrow will take care of itself. And he’s right. That’s how I want to live my life.”
The dark waves lapped rhythmically against the sand, and they watched the bobbing lights of party boats floating in the bay. Suddenly, the first fireworks soared into the starry sky, exploding in thundering booms of brilliant, cascading lights above Pilgrim Tower. Elijah looked over at Chloe’s sweet smile, and his heart ached for the future.
38
“I think it’s a great idea,” Noah said as he splashed milk into the bowl of pancake batter and stirred. “You’ve been talking about taking Asher for years. Besides, it would be good for you. You haven’t been back since before he was born.”
Laney stroked Lucky’s long fur and sighed. “I’d like to go,” she mused softly, “but with the wedding just around the corner, it would be crazy. We haven’t even started painting the house or picked out a new oven.” She looked up at her husband. “And if I go to Georgia, none of that will get done.”
“Yes, it will,” Noah countered. “The boys and I will take care of everything. You won’t even recognize this place when you get home,” he added.
Laney eyed him skeptically and laughed. “You don’t really expect me to believe that,” she said, knowing her husband’s lack of success at finishing projects.
“I know I don’t have a good track record,” Noah began slowly. Laney raised her eyebrows, waiting to hear how he would finish this admission. “But with the wedding coming, I know we’ll get it done. Besides, if you go, you can bring home a whole crate of fresh peaches for the cobbler.”
Laney sighed, considering his words and feeling her heartstrings tugging south. “Okay,” she said finally, “I’ll go.”
Noah beamed. “Great!” Then he paused. “We better go look at ovens today.”
Just then Asher appeared at the bottom of the stairs with Halle behind him. “We’re getting a new oven?” he said sleepily, rubbing his eyes.
“We are,” Laney said, pulling him onto her lap as he walked by.
He snuggled against her and gently patted Lucky’s back too. “Is breakfast ready?” he asked, looking up.
“It is,” Noah answered, “and your mom has some news for you.”
Asher pushed his glasses up on his nose, his eyes wide. “She does?”
“Yup.”
Laney frowned. Although she’d said she’d go, it would’ve been nice to have a little wiggle room in case she changed her mind—and once Asher knew, there’d be no backing out.
Her young son peered at her expectantly, and Noah looked up from pouring pancake batter on the griddle and eyed her questioningly. “Well?”
“What?” Asher asked in an excited voice.
“You could’ve waited,” Laney admonished.
“Why?” he asked, crinkling his brow. “You just said yes . . . and it will give him something to look forward to.”
Laney sighed and shook her head.
“Tell me, Mom,” Asher begged.
“Well, your dad thinks we should take a trip . . . to the farm.”
“Are we going to?” Asher asked, hopping off her lap.
“Do you want to?”
“Yes!”
“It’s a really long ride,” she warned.
“I don’t care.”
“It’s just going to be me and you.”
“Woo-hoo!” he shouted, jumping up and down. “Wait,” he said, stopping in mid-jump. “Can Halle come?”
“Oh, I don’t know, hon, it’s so far.”
“She loves car rides,” Asher said hopefully.
“She might be better off at home, Ash,” Noah said, turning the pancakes.
“Please . . . it would be fun,” Asher pressed.
“We’ll see,” Laney conceded. “But if she stays home, does that mean you want to stay home too?”
“No,” he said softly, kneeling down next to Halle. “I’d just miss her.”
Laney sighed.
“Okay, who’s ready for pancakes?” Noah asked, slipping his spatula under the golden orbs and flipping them onto a plate.
“Me,” Asher said, raising his hand and sliding into a chair.
“I’ll get the boys,” Laney said, pouring a cup of coffee and heading for the stairs.
“Gabe and E are out running,” Noah called and she nodded.
After the breakfast dishes were stacked into the dishwasher and the dogs had been fed and treated to small pancakes drizzled with syrup, Laney packed lunches for Gabe and E and headed up to take a quick shower. Meanwhile, Asher settled onto the couch to watch cartoons with Halle curled up next to him while Seth and Ben vied for use of the family computer.
“Dad,” Seth whined. “Can Ben use your laptop?”
“Not right now, pal. I need to start my sermon.”
“I need my own computer,” Seth complained bitterly.
“Get a job and you can buy your own computer,” Ben said matter-of-factly.
“How ’bout you get a job,” Seth retorted angrily. “You’re sixteen.”
“I have a job—mowing lawns. Remember?”
“Then you should buy your own computer.”
“I can’t. I’m saving for an iPhone.”
“Well, I need the computer too.”
“For what? So you can play that stupid game?”
“It’s not stupid!” Seth shouted, trying to push his brother out of his chair.
“Hey,” Noah said, looking up. “That’s enough. Do we need to set the timer like we did when you were little?”
“No,” Seth growled, stomping from the room. “But I get the computer in fifteen minutes!”
Laney came down the stairs, towel drying her hair. “What is the problem down here?”
“Seth’s a baby. That’s the problem,” Ben said.
“I’m not a baby!” shouted an angry voice from the next room.
Laney raised her eyebrows and looked at her husband. “Can one of them use your laptop?”
Noah stared at her. “I have to start my sermon, dear . . . unless you want me to ad-lib.”
“You’re good at that. Besides, I thought we were going to look at ovens.”
“Now?”
“Yes, now.”
“It’s Saturday. Traffic will be a nightmare.”
“I know what day it is,” she replied with a hint of sarcasm, “but if you want me to go on this trip, we need to find an oven.”
“What trip?” Ben said, looking up from his Facebook page.
“Mom’s going to Georgia,” Noah said, “and, no, you’re not going.”
“Can I go?” a pained voice called from the next room.
“If I can’t go, you can’t go,” Ben called back before his parents could answer. “No one wants to travel with a baby.”
“I’M NOT A BABY!”
Just then, Gabe and E came down the stairs. “Holy cow! You two are the biggest whiners,” E said, reaching for his cooler.
Gabe laughed. “We were never this bad,” he said, kissing his mom’s cheek. “Bye.”
“Thanks for lunch,” E added, kissing her other cheek and heading for the door.
Laney rolled her eyes. “No, you were worse.”
As the door swung closed behind them, Noah shook his head. “I don’t think we can leave these two alone. They might end up killing each other.”
“Not if you let one of them use your laptop.”
“Seth,” he called to the next room. “Do you want to use my laptop?”
“No,” a sulky voice mumbled.
Noah frowned. “Why not?”
And when he didn’t answer, Ben answered for him. “Because his game’s not on it.”
“Well, then . . . you use it,” Noah said.
“Fine,” Ben said, purposely shutting down the computer and shoving the chair back so that it toppled over.
“Why did you shut the computer down?” Noah asked, his voice rising.
“Because,” Ben answered insolently.
“Well, then, on second thought,” Noah said, trying to control his voice. “You can forget about using my laptop. In fact, you’re off the computer for the rest of the weekend.”
Ben shrugged defiantly. “Fine,” he said, pretending not to care and turning to the stairs.
“Honestly, Ben,” Laney said. “What is the matter with you?”
“Nothing,” he mumbled, looking crestfallen.
“Is it the trip?”
“No,” he answered, looking away.
“Asher’s never been to the farm,” she explained.
“Asher’s going?” he asked in surprise.
“How come he gets to go?” a sullen voice called from the next room.
“Because he’s never been,” Noah said in an exasperated voice. “And there’s no way your mother is going to put up with you two on a long car ride.” He turned to Laney. “If you want to look at ovens, we need to go. I have work to do.”
“Does anyone want to go with us?”
“Nooo,” answered a chorus of voices.
39
“Are you sure you’re up to this?” Maddie asked as Asa gently backed her against the wall, and reached for the buttons of her blouse.
“Mmm,” he murmured, kissing her neck and pressing his body against hers.
“I guess you are,” she teased, gazing into his blue eyes. “Didn’t your doctor tell you to take it easy?”
“I am taking it easy,” he whispered, pulling her toward their old sleigh bed while slowly undressing her.
She lay back on the soft comforter and watched his eyes take in her body as if they were seeing it for the first time. A soft summer breeze rustled the curtains, and he lay on the bed next to her, pulling her body against his. The gentle touch of his hand was as familiar to her as the warmth of the sun on her skin. Even before he touched her she knew where his fingers would trace long slow circles . . . where they would linger . . . and where they would explore. He knew her body as well as he knew his own . . . and he knew how to bring her to the edge, and with a mischievous smile, stop . . . until she could barely hold on. Then he would cover his body with hers, and with the easy rhythm that was ancient and familiar as time itself, they would once again find each other’s heat and pleasure.
On rare occasions, Asa closed his eyes, and it always made Maddie wonder if he was thinking of a time long ago. She never asked. She didn’t want to know. She knew he’d always been faithful . . . and that was enough, but sometimes she couldn’t help but wonder—when his eyes were closed—if he was remembering Noelle. Maddie knew Asa’s first love had been painful and real and deep. But did he still slip back into the memory of her?
“I love you,” he murmured, kissing her softly and easing to her side.
“I love you too,” she whispered, pushing the thought from her mind. It didn’t matter, she thought, reaching for his hand and drifting off.
Asa looked out the window at the stars and listened to the cicadas in the trees. The droning summer sounds at this time of year always reminded him of the bittersweet day he’d left for college . . . and all of the lonely autumn days that followed. Sometimes the memory still made his heart ache. Suddenly, the peaceful night was shattered by terrified squawking. Maddie woke up in alarm as Asa flew down the stairs with Harper barking at his heels. He turned on the back light just in time to see a fox disappearing into the woods. “No!” he shouted, pushing open the door and running toward the pond, but it was too late. The fox was gone. Asa stood in the yard, naked, his chest tightening in anguished pain as the distraught gander called out frantically for his mate.
40
Noah looked up from his pulpit. “Today’s sermon,” he began, “touches on one of my wife’s favorite topics.” He paused, surveying his flock, and everyone, including Laney, waited, wondering what her favorite topic was . . . especially since the title in the bulletin, “My Yoke Is Easy,” wasn’t very revealing. In fact, Stewart Nicolson, sitting in the back row, wondered if his minister liked his eggs over-easy. But Noah, famous for his long, dramatic pauses—which he believed kept his audience on the edge of their seats—looked down at his notes again, and when he finally looked up, he said, “Worry.”
The congregation chuckled and turned to look for their minister’s lovely wife. She was in her usual pew surrounded by her five handsome boys, and they knew she had good reason to worry. Noah nodded. “For a woman of abiding faith, my wife loves to keep her worries close to her heart.
“In our kitchen, there are several hand-painted signs that the boys have given her over the years to gently remind her to rise above her one . . . and only . . . fault.” He grinned impishly, and everyone laughed. “The sign over the oven boldly states: ‘STRESS LESS . . . PRAY MORE.’ And the one on the mantel is from Proverbs. It commands: ‘TRUST IN THE LORD WITH ALL YOUR HEART. AND DO NOT LEAN ON YOUR OWN UNDERSTANDING. IN ALL YOUR WAYS ACKNOWLEDGE HIM, AND HE WILL MAKE STRAIGHT YOUR PATH.’ The one in the downstairs bathroom reminds, ‘CAST ALL YOUR ANXIETY ON GOD, BECAUSE HE CARES FOR YOU.’ And the one on the windowsill over the kitchen sink—where she spends most of her time—is from Philippians: ‘DO NOT BE ANXIOUS ABOUT ANYTHING, BUT IN EVERYTHING BY PRAYER AND SUPPLICATION WITH THANKSGIVING LET YOUR REQUESTS BE MADE KNOWN TO GOD.’ ”
The boys all turned to watch their mother’s reaction, but she just smiled and Noah continued. “But it’s not just Laney that worries . . . it’s me . . . it’s Tom . . . it’s Barbara . . . it’s Sue . . . it’s Lynn . . . it’s every one of us.
“So why is it then that, despite all of God’s loving reminders, we humans insist on carrying burdens of the world on our shoulders? Even our reading this morning cautions us against this sin . . . and it is a sin because it means we don’t trust God to take care of us. And for all you worry warts out there, Matthew 6:25–27 bears repeating: ‘Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you shall eat or what you shall drink, nor about your body, what you should put on. Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet the heavenly Father feeds them . . .’ Through my wife I might add.” He smiled and everyone chuckled. Then he continued to read. “ ‘Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add one cubit to his span of life?’ ” Noah looked up and repeated, “ ‘Which of you by being anxious can add one cubit to his span of life?’ ” And then, in classic Reverend Coleman style, he paused. “The answer is: none of us can add a cubit . . . or any other length of time . . . to our life by worrying. In fact, there have been numerous studies that prove anxiety can have a negative effect on one’s health.... So, in reality, the act of worrying can actually diminish the number of cubits we have left.”
