The Gin & Chowder Club, page 2
3
An hour later, Samuel was standing in the kitchen wearing a pressed white oxford, sleeves rolled to his forearms, and khaki slacks, mentally checking his list of preparations. Big band was playing on the radio. The kitchen counters were spotless. The shrimp was on ice, and the cocktail sauce had the perfect amount of fresh horseradish, Tabasco, Worcestershire, and lemon. The buttered French bread was in foil and waiting to go in the warm oven. The chowder was still simmering, and the fresh pepper grinder had been filled. The old metal tub was stocked with beer, white wine, tonic, and sweet tea on ice. Merlot, Tanqueray, and other mixers were on the old oak side table, and there were slices of lemon and lime in a chilled glass bowl. Sarah had cut blue hydrangea blossoms and made two bouquets, one for the kitchen and one for the porch. The outside table was covered with a pressed white linen cloth on which the glasses sparkled in the late afternoon sun. Samuel glanced around one last time. He prided himself on being an organized and conscientious host.
“Hey there, you old fox,” a familiar voice called out.
Martha slowly pulled herself up off the wooden floor and barked warningly down the steps while her welcoming tail gave away her true emotions.
“Hey there, yourself!” Samuel replied, stepping out onto the porch and reaching for Nate’s hand. The two friends clapped each other on the shoulder and hugged.
Samuel turned to Noelle. “I don’t know how you put up with this old bear,” he said, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. “You are a saint—and a beautiful saint at that,” he added with a wink.
Noelle smiled and blushed. “You two are a pair—you must have attended the same school of gallantry.”
Samuel grinned back. “Actually, Nate learned everything he knows from me. So, in that regard, you are lucky!”
Martha continued to sniff and wiggle until Nate finally knelt down in front of her and held her head in his hands. “I didn’t say hello to you, did I, ole girl?” he said, giving her a kiss on the nose. “You are getting as gray as I am.”
Martha returned the kiss and, satisfied, went back to her spot in the sun.
Sarah came out and greeted her guests too. She’d grown fond of Noelle and gave her a warm hug. She then turned to Nate, and he took her hands and smiled at her. She leaned up and kissed him tenderly on the cheek. Sarah loved her husband’s oldest friend and had prayed without ceasing while she watched his heart break. And now, although she dearly missed Annie’s company, she was glad that Nate had found new happiness with Noelle.
Initially, Sarah had been skeptical of the romance. She was very protective of Nate and didn’t want to see him endure any more heartache. But their relationship had unfolded gradually, and Sarah’s concerns had eased. Finally, two years after Annie’s passing, Nate announced that he and Noelle were getting married, and Samuel and Sarah had been very happy for them.
The two couples stood chatting when Isaac appeared at the door.
“Well, here he is!” Nate smiled. “Come on out and let’s see the college boy.”
Isaac stepped out and shook Nate’s hand. “Hey, Uncle Nate,” he said, grinning. Then he turned and kissed Noelle on the cheek.
“So, how’s Providence?” Nate asked. “Did you have a good year?” He glanced at Isaac’s attire: stone-colored shorts, white polo, and black canvas high-top sneakers. “Looks like that crazy art community didn’t have too much effect on you.” Isaac nodded with a smile, and Nate looked up and noticed that Asa was standing at the door. “And here’s the other troublemaker!”
Asa couldn’t help but smile as he pushed open the door. He had showered and changed, too, and he had the same casual look as his brother except that his high-tops were white, and his polo was a faded cobalt blue that matched his eyes. He wore a Red Sox cap, which, when new, had been cream-colored with a navy visor and a deep red B; now it was frayed and faded, and even though he had a new cap, he always wore his old favorite.
Asa politely greeted his parents’ friends just as his brother had, with a firm handshake and a kiss. He lightly brushed Noelle’s cheek with his lips and slowly breathed in her familiar fragrance. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw; he was becoming well versed in the art of concealment.
“Look at these fine young men!” Nate exclaimed. “Sam, you homely old fellow, how did you manage to have such handsome sons?”
“Thank goodness Sarah had something to do with it,” Samuel replied, smiling. “Isaac, how’d you like to fix our guests some drinks?” Then he added, “Please use a proper stirrer this time.” He turned to Nate. “You have to watch him—he has an unconventional way of stirring.”
Nate nodded. “So, what’re you boys up to this summer?”
Isaac answered as he made their drinks. “I’m going into town with Dad during the week to help out in the shop and hopefully learn a little bit about interior architecture.”
Samuel shook his head and eyed his older son. “It’s not as innocent a plan as it sounds. As usual, there’s a woman involved.”
Nate raised his eyebrows. “A college woman, I’m sure,” he said, winking at Isaac as he was handed his drink. Isaac just grinned. Nate then turned to Asa, who was leaning on the railing. “And how ’bout you, Asa? Any women—I mean work— in your summer plans?”
Asa laughed and avoided looking at Noelle. “I’m working down at the coast guard station, repairing sills and painting.”
Samuel shook his head again. “Don’t be fooled. His plans aren’t innocent either,” he teased. “He’ll have a bird’s-eye view of all the girls on the beach. That’s why he likes that job so much.”
Asa just smiled and looked away. Both boys were accustomed to the good-natured teasing by their father and Nate.
“Well, Asa,” Nate said thoughtfully, “if you don’t get enough of that sort of work over at the coast guard station, I’m looking for someone reliable to repair a couple of sills and do some painting at the house. If you’re interested, let me know.”
Asa nodded. Just then, Martha struggled to her feet and started barking again. Other guests were arriving, and Martha, who was the self-appointed head of the welcoming committee, was ready, tail wagging.
By eight o’clock, Asa and Isaac had said good night to their parents’ friends. Earlier in the day, they had loaded Asa’s old Chevy pickup with driftwood and beach chairs. “Do we have everything?” Isaac asked as he put two coolers, one empty, the other full of ice, behind the tailgate.
“No,” Asa said, and ran back up the stairs. He grabbed his notebook and pen and stuffed them into his shoulder bag before heading back down. He pushed open the screen door just as Noelle, with an empty bowl in one hand, reached to pull it open. He held the door for her, and they stepped back into the shadow of the kitchen.
“Are you going out?” she asked with surprise.
“For a little while . . .” He paused and gave her a mischievous grin. “Want to come?”
Noelle looked around. “Mmm . . . I’d love to. . . .” Her eyes sparkled, and Asa stepped closer. “You aren’t making this easy,” she said quietly. “I thought you were going to help—”
“I’m trying to help,” he said softly, “but there’s just something about you.”
The sound of the screen door made them quickly step apart. Samuel and Nate came into the kitchen looking for the limes, and Nate gave Noelle a puzzled look.
Samuel, seeing that Asa hadn’t left yet, repeated his warning. “Remember what I said.”
“Yes, Dad,” Asa replied.
“And let me know about that extra work,” Nate reminded him. “Don’t let your father tell you otherwise. I do pay on time.”
Asa laughed. “I guess I could use the extra money. Dad keeps mumbling about having two tuitions.”
“All right, then,” Nate replied. “Maybe you could come by tomorrow so I can show you which windows need the most attention.”
“All right, I’ll come by,” Asa said, shaking Nate’s hand.
Samuel gave his son a hug. “Love you . . . Behave.” Then he added, “Tell your brother too.”
“I will,” Asa replied. “Love you, too, Dad.” He caught Noelle’s eye and smiled as he went out the door.
“Twelve o’clock!” Samuel shouted after him.
“Okay,” they heard him answer from outside.
“It’s damn hard lettin’ them go,” Samuel said, shaking his head.
Nate put his hand on Samuel’s shoulder. “You’ve done a great job, Sam,” he consoled. “I wish I’d had the chance.”
“You never know,” Samuel said, taking the replenished bowl from Noelle. He smiled and winked at her. “Miracles do happen.”
Nate laughed. “It would take a miracle—not to mention I’m much too old for such nonsense!” Nate turned to look at Noelle, knowing she would love nothing more than to have a family. She returned a sad half-smile but didn’t say anything as she stepped outside while the two men lingered in the kitchen.
Noelle slipped through the gathering of friends and made her way over to the railing to look out at the waves. What Nate had said was true—she would love nothing more than to have a child. It was her deepest prayer. She looked at the sky, which had become a radiant blaze of pink and orange, and then turned to watch the lighthouse continue its steady, assiduous rhythm.
4
Asa pulled the truck into the parking lot of the package store, and Isaac climbed out. “Get bottles!” Asa called after him. Isaac came out and put the beer into the empty cooler. He poured some of the ice on top and then pushed the Tanqueray and tonic into the ice of the other cooler.
“Damn, I forgot a lime,” Isaac said. “We’re going to have to make another quick stop.”
“Bet you forgot cups too,” Asa said. “I don’t know why you have to drink something so complicated.”
“Someone has to carry on the family tradition.”
Asa just shook his head.
Fifteen minutes later, the boys pulled into the parking area at Nauset Light. They were greeted with cheers and jeers by their small circle of friends, people they had spent every childhood summer with—most whose parents were at the gathering back at the house. The cheering was because they had finally arrived, the jeering because they were late. Isaac got out of the truck and shook hands with the fellows and gave hugs to the girls. There had been a time when Samuel had worried that his sons did not interact enough with other children. In most group situations, they had always tended to stay together, and even in Sunday school, Asa had always wanted to tag along to Isaac’s class.
Isaac had said, “Don’t worry, Dad. Asa’s my wingman.”
Samuel had laughed. And he need not have worried, because as soon as they became teenagers, Isaac and Asa seemed to have no trouble interacting with others.
Asa sat in the truck, grinning. “All right, we brought the wood. You guys get to carry it down those stairs.” They all knew what he meant. The bluff overlooking Nauset Light Beach was straight down, and one trip up the stairs was a workout. It would take several trips to carry down all of the wood.
“Maybe there’s enough down there already,” someone offered.
“Oh, don’t be a slouch,” Asa teased. “I run up those forty-seven steps all the time.”
It was true. Asa loved to run. On most days, he ran from the lighthouse to the coast guard station. He would return with a goal of running the stairs four times, although he would sometimes change his mind after three. On other days, he would ride his bike down Ocean View Drive, leave it at the coast guard station, and run farther down the beach, past the weather-beaten two-room structure the locals called the Outermost House. Asa knew the history of the little house, but he preferred to call it the Fo’c’sle, just as its original owner had. This sun-bleached structure that sat in front of Nauset Marsh had been built by a local carpenter in the late spring of 1925 for author and naturalist Henry Beston. Beston, who referred to himself as the “Vagabond of the Dunes,” had then spent a year weathering the coastal storms of Cape Cod and living in solitude. He had chronicled his experience in a book called The Outermost House. The slim volume had captivated Asa, and he drew inspiration from its descriptive passages of secluded life, buffeted between the relentless forces of nature and the serenity of observing the gradual change of seasons. When Asa ran past the house, he could almost picture Beston sitting out front, becoming as much a part of the landscape as the tall sea grass swaying on the dunes. Oh, what an experience it must have been!
Asa climbed out of the truck and slung his bag over his shoulder. He reached under the dash for his bottle opener, slipped it into his pocket, walked to the back of the truck, and pulled down the tailgate.
“If you all take two or three pieces, you might have to make only a couple of trips,” he said teasingly while he pulled out his cooler and chair and headed for the stairs. He started to walk away but then smiled, turned around, and came back to grab two big pieces of wood.
Before long, the group had a good fire going. They lounged in beach chairs, and Isaac made a round of gin and tonics for anyone who was interested. The boys in the group toasted life, using their fathers’ legendary gin and chowder toast, and, after a while, several in the group decided to go for a walk along the water. When it turned out that everyone was going, Asa decided to stay behind.
“I’ll just stay here and keep an eye on the fire,” he said.
“Sure you don’t mind?” Isaac asked.
“You know I don’t mind.”
In fact, Asa couldn’t have been happier. As the group started off, shouting and waving good-bye to him, Asa waved back, laughing at them and pulling his cooler closer to his chair. He slipped out an icy bottle, opened it, leaned back in his chair, and took a long drink. He watched the fire for a while and then fished around in his shoulder bag for his notebook. Asa never minded being alone. Sometimes he thought he could spend his entire life alone—a recluse, like Beston or Thoreau.
He watched the sparks of embers shooting up into the darkness and listened to the pounding of the waves. He looked at the moon and its reflection on the water. And then Asa looked higher and watched the red and white beams of the lighthouse circling endlessly in the night sky, and he wondered what Noelle was doing at that very moment. . . .
5
Both Samuel and Nate came from Boston families, and each had inherited businesses that were generations old. Eli Coleman, Samuel’s father, had turned the reins of Coleman & Son Fine Woodworking over to Samuel early on so that he could “retire and spend more time fishing.” But for many years after, Samuel would arrive to open up the shop and find Eli already there, smiling and ready to “keep an eye on things.” Eli had been a beloved grandfather to Asa and Isaac, and even though he had died almost eight years ago, he was still deeply missed.
Eli’s father had been Josiah, and it was he who had built the post-and-beam barn that later became “the shop.” Out of wood he crafted any items that were needed by his neighbors: rocking chairs, window frames, mantels, cupolas, and, of course, cabinets. His reputation for excellent craftsmanship spread throughout the area, and before long, he was crafting, almost exclusively, custom cabinetry for the finest homes in Boston.
About this same time, Nate’s grandfather, Abe Shepherd, had started an accounting firm for upscale businesses in the Boston area. Because of his name, everyone assumed Abe to be trustworthy. His reputation and his business grew, so when Josiah Coleman’s woodworking business started to bring in more income than he could manage, he decided to seek the services of someone who knew about such matters. His customers recommended Abe Shepherd.
When Abe and Josiah shook hands for the first time, the conversation that followed seemed more like a reunion of two old friends than of two newly acquainted businessmen. Abe and Josiah found that they had a great deal in common, and as their meeting drew to a close, they agreed to meet again in a more social setting. The following Friday evening, they met in Haymarket for drinks. Hungry after a long day, they also ordered chowder, and the conversation turned to old family recipes. After much good-natured wrangling, it was decided that a contest was in order. Abe suggested that Josiah bring his wife and young son out to his family’s summerhouse in Orleans. Josiah agreed. The two men would cook for their wives and have the ladies judge who made the best chowder.
As it turned out, the women loved both the men’s efforts and couldn’t decide between them. Abe and Josiah reluctantly conceded that both chowders were indeed delicious. They decided to try combining the ingredients of the two recipes, and the resulting creation was rich and creamy and full of clams—and became the legendary chowder recipe. The social gatherings of the two families and their friends became known as the Gin and Chowder Club.
Spending time at the Shepherds’ summerhouse, Josiah and his wife fell in love with the ocean and decided to find a place of their own. After looking at several old homes, they finally settled on a rambling center-chimney Cape overlooking the rugged coast in nearby Eastham. The house had a commanding view of the shoreline and of the neighboring lighthouse. This view had been the real selling point, because the house itself, although charming, was weathered and in great need of repair. Its rambling yard was enclosed by a broken picket fence whose main support was an overgrown wild rosebush that was covered with a profusion of pink blossoms. The old-fashioned gardens surrounding the house also reflected years of neglect, but a plethora of blue hydrangea bushes, daylilies, black-eyed Susan, and bee balm made it evident that someone had once cared very much. Despite the house’s run-down appearance, Josiah and his wife saw only potential and bought it without a second thought.
