The Gin & Chowder Club, page 3
In the years that followed, it was only natural that, growing up together and spending summers on the Cape, Josiah Coleman’s son Eli and Abe Shepherd’s son Lincoln would forge a friendship of their own and would later carry on the businesses and traditions of their fathers. These were eventually passed down to their sons Samuel and Nate.
6
Nate and Noelle arrived home shortly before eleven. In the old days, Nate recalled, the gatherings had lasted until the early hours of the morning. The group had been a little wilder back then too. Now they were all slowing down. Ah, well, they were all a little wiser too, he thought.
As they pulled into the sandy drive that wound into the secluded setting, Noelle looked up at the silhouette of the house’s bowed roof and its massive center chimney. They had forgotten to leave on an outside light, but the full moon brightly illuminated the grounds and pool.
“How ’bout a swim?” Noelle asked.
Nate laughed. “It’s a bit late, don’t you think?”
“C’mon, it’ll feel good,” Noelle said. “I’ll even wear your favorite outfit.”
“That’s very tempting,” Nate replied, “but you must remember—you’re married to an old man.”
Nate parked the car, and they walked toward the back garden. Noelle reached for Nate’s hand. “Well, perhaps you can get a towel for me, then,” she said, not willing to give up so easily.
“That,” he replied, “I can do.”
When Nate returned with a towel, he saw Noelle’s dress draped over the wooden gate. Inside the gate, dropped enticingly along the stone patio, was a trail of undergarments.
“I have your towel, miss,” he called.
“Thank you, sir. And by the way, it’s ‘Mrs.’,” she called from the far end of the pool. She was standing on the diving board in the moonlight, and he took it all in, feeling himself become aroused.
“It’s definitely the quiet ones you have to look out for,” he said to himself.
“What’s that?” she called.
“Just remembering how prim and proper I once thought you were,” Nate called back, sitting on a lounge chair. Noelle dove into the pool without even a splash. She came up and slowly swam toward him.
“But I am prim and proper—for a married woman,” she said, standing up in the shallow end, streams of water cascading down her smooth skin.
“Where in the world are your tan lines?” Nate asked, his eyes playing over every inch of the view, his mind loving every word of the playful banter.
“You don’t get any when you have such a private sunny spot,” she replied. “Are you sure you won’t join me?”
“I’m sure. I don’t want to get wet,” he said, smiling. “I’ll dry, though—when you’re ready, of course.” He hoped her swim wasn’t over. “How ’bout a few more dives? I’d be happy to judge them.”
“I’m sure you would,” she said, arching her back and stroking toward the other end.
Nate watched her as he unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the soft curly silver hair that covered his lean chest and abdomen. He was not ashamed of the shape he was in. In fact, for fifty, he thought he was pretty trim. He leaned back in his chair and loosened his pants. Noelle stepped onto the diving board. She reached her arms straight over her head, completely uninhibited, and dove smoothly again.
When she came up, Nate teased her. “Nine and a half. Always room for improvement—better try again.”
She laughed and dove in a couple more times. Finally, Nate said, “Now, that was perfect.”
Noelle swam to the steps and walked toward him. Nate held the towel open, and Noelle just stood in front of him. He slowly dried her legs and abdomen and just enjoyed looking. He reached up to softly dry her breasts, and Noelle watched his eyes. She slipped her leg over the lounge chair, and Nate leaned back. He dropped the towel to the ground, slid his hands onto her hips, and gently pulled her down. She moved slowly back and forth, teasing him. Together they watched the slow movement between their bodies until Noelle caught her breath.
“You’re wrong,” he murmured. “I’m the lucky one.”
7
Asa was up early the next morning. In the gray half-light, he glanced over at his brother. Even though they had been home before midnight, they hadn’t gotten much sleep; instead, they had lain on their beds and talked into the night. Isaac was torn between an old love named Jen from summers past and a new one he had met in college. Jen had been at the beach the night before, and seeing her again had rekindled the flame. Isaac’s new love, due to absence, had lost the advantage. Asa could offer little advice. He had always believed that if a person truly loved another, there could be no one else, but now he wasn’t so sure. Is it possible to love two people?
Asa silently pulled on his shorts and went downstairs. Martha was curled up on her bed, but when she saw Asa, she thumped her tail and rolled onto her back to have her belly scratched. Asa obliged and then let her out and fed her. He left a note saying that he had done so, gave her a kiss on the head, and quietly slipped outside. A fog had rolled in during the night, and Asa could only see the shaft of light from the lighthouse slicing through the mist. He pulled his T-shirt over his head, stretched, and jogged slowly down the road toward the beach. As he trotted down the steps, he couldn’t see the water; he could only hear the waves. The ocean air was thick and heavy with moisture. He recalled how clear and bright the night before had been and couldn’t believe what a difference a few hours made. As he headed toward the hard, wet sand along the water’s edge, he passed the dark, smoldering site of their fire and thought of the tranquility of sitting there alone, remembering. Now, as he ran, he allowed his mind to replay the memory again....
He thought about the moment he had realized that he was attracted to Noelle. When Annie had died, he was just a boy, but in the years that followed, Noelle had become a part of Nate’s life, a friend to his parents, and had always been someone he could talk to. He had simply loved to be around her, and she had always made time for him; as he matured, so had their friendship. They had certainly never planned for anything to happen, but then one evening last spring, Asa had stopped in to say good-bye before returning to school, and Noelle had been home alone. They had talked for a while, until Asa had said he’d better go. He had kissed her—as he always did. But this time it had lasted a moment longer, and it had felt like something more. When they had finally stepped apart, Noelle had looked startled, and Asa had felt his heart pounding. Noelle had looked at him intently and had lightly touched his cheek, and then to his astonishment she had leaned up and kissed him again.
Asa continued to run, watching the fog slowly lifting. He tried to push the memory from his mind. I must stop remembering. I can’t think this way. But it seemed that they had already stumbled down a path that allowed no return. Finally, Asa just pushed himself to run as hard as he could and tried to convince himself that he preferred the simplicity of solitude.
When Asa got back to the house, his father was up and making coffee.
“How ’bout some of my world-famous blueberry pancakes ?” he asked.
“Sounds good,” Asa replied as he poured a splash of orange juice into his ice water. “Do I have time to take a shower?”
“You do if you’re quick—and see if you can rouse your brother too.”
Sarah came into the kitchen in her bathrobe. “Mmmm, coffee. I knew I married you for a reason,” she said, smiling at Samuel. As usual, Sarah had waited up for the boys, even though Isaac had insisted it wasn’t necessary.
“After all,” he had said, “no one worries when I’m at college.”
“If you only knew,” she had replied.
This morning, however, she was glad to have everyone home and safe. She gave hugs to her two men who were up and about, filled her coffee cup, and went out onto the porch with her Bible. For as long as Asa could remember, this had been his mother’s early morning routine. He knew that he was among her prayers, and it always gave him a funny, warm feeling.
After breakfast and showers, the Coleman boys were pressed, dressed, and ready for church. Isaac and Asa had learned early on that Sunday mornings were set aside for God, and even though they would have much rather gone hiking or exploring, their mother was unyielding when it came to church and Sunday school. So, Isaac and Asa were “regulars,” and by the time they could read, they knew their way around the Bible better than most adults. By ages four and five, they had sat obediently in the church pew between their parents and, with their eyes squeezed tightly shut, whispered the Lord’s Prayer. By eight and nine, they could both recite all of the books of the Old and New Testaments, as well as Psalms 23, 91, and 121. Sarah was proud of her boys’ knowledge and believed strongly in the verse from Proverbs, “Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it.”
Samuel agreed with this, but he also wanted his boys to have a growing, living faith, one on which they could always rely. He wanted their lives to have purpose, and he wanted them to use their talents and passions to glorify God. He had repeatedly impressed this upon them. As they grew older, however, he could only pray that they had absorbed some of his guiding doctrines.
Asa sat in the pew next to Isaac and looked out the tall window. He had always marveled at the height and number of panes in the old mullioned windows. The architecture was typical of a New England Congregational church. It had been built in the mid-1700s and had originally served as a meetinghouse as well. Since its establishment, there had been several renovations. In the 1800s, the first change was made when a center aisle had been added. At the same time, the pews had been curved so that the central focus was on the pulpit, the Bible—God. The interior decoration was minimal, almost stark in its simplicity. In front of the pulpit stood a Communion table and beside it, a matching baptismal font. There was no cross, which bothered Sarah, but because this was her church only in the summer and occasionally during the rest of the year, she did not make it an issue. When it wasn’t communion Sunday, there was always an arrangement of freshly cut flowers on the table. Today, there was a bouquet of deep purple lilac blossoms from someone’s garden. On either side of the heavy, fragrant blossoms, two tall white tapers flickered. Asa found the simplicity to be striking.
As they stood to sing the opening hymn, “God of Grace and God of Glory,” Asa noticed Nate and Noelle standing two rows in front of them and remembered his promise to stop by that afternoon. His mind drifted from the service, and he was relieved when the benediction was finally delivered. He was far too preoccupied with his own thoughts to be able to benefit from the sermon. The boys stood with their parents and shook hands with the other parishioners. Nate and Noelle made their way over too. Samuel and Sarah chatted with them, and Asa arranged with Nate to stop by after lunch.
Back at the house, Asa and Isaac hurried upstairs to change. Samuel had suggested BLTs for lunch, which happened to be the boys’ specialty. They came down to the kitchen, and while they made the sandwiches and heated up the leftover chowder, they planned their afternoon. Martha sat patiently at Asa’s feet while he turned the bacon.
“Don’t worry, ole girl, I’m cooking one just for you,” Asa said, scratching her behind the ears and stirring soup at the same time.
Isaac rinsed and sliced two tomatoes. “So, we’ll meet you at Nauset around two o’clock. Does that sound good?” Nauset Beach was in Orleans, and its close proximity to Nate and Noelle’s house would make it easy for Asa to come down when he was done. Nauset and Coast Guard Beach, with its long sandbars, had always been their two favorites for swimming.
Isaac continued. “I guess I’ll call Jen—I told her that I would—and I’ll see who else is around.” Isaac put the bread in the toaster and lamented, “I am beginning to wish that I wasn’t going in to Boston with Dad during the week.”
Asa turned the stove off and laid the bacon out on a paper towel to drain. He wished Isaac was going to be around, too, but he didn’t let on.
“Oh, it won’t be so bad,” he replied, breaking off a big piece of bacon and giving it to Martha. “Careers before women, remember ?”
“Yeah, that’s easy for you to say,” Isaac teased.
8
Asa considered walking around back after parking his truck but then decided to knock at the front door instead. Asa and Isaac had spent almost as much time at Uncle Nate’s house as they had at their own. They had slept over on countless occasions, and although they preferred swimming in the ocean, they had also spent countless hours in the pool. Nate always teased that they were going to wear out the water. Annie had loved having them over for a swim. She had taught them how to dive and how to swim all the way to the bottom to retrieve a shiny penny. If Sarah had some shopping to do, Annie had always been willing to “spend time with her boys.” She’d never called it babysitting. Instead, she would give them her undivided attention and loved to be challenged to a game of Parcheesi or Scrabble. Sometimes they would make ice-cream sodas or cookies, and then they would sit out on the porch and munch or slurp while Annie read stories to them about pirates and shipwrecks. While she read, Asa and Isaac would lie back on the cushioned wicker furniture and look out at the ocean until they could no longer keep their eyes open. Asa had often wondered why Annie and Nate didn’t have any children.
Asa loved Nate’s old house almost as much as the memories. As a boy, he thought that the wood-shingled bow roof looked like an upside-down ship. The house was sided in the traditional style of Cape Cod. It had painted clapboard on the front and weathered gray shingles on the ends and on the back. As Asa walked to the front door, he noticed that the deep red paint on the trim was peeling, as was the paint on the clapboard. The front door was original: stained oak, solid and heavy. Asa lifted the old circular iron knocker and tapped it. Noelle answered almost immediately.
“Asa, you don’t have to knock,” she said, inviting him in. “You know you can just come in.”
Asa half smiled. “I wish that were so. . . .”
She studied his eyes. “Nate is on the back porch,” she said quietly.
Asa nodded and looked over her shoulder, his heart suddenly pounding. He reached for her hand and pulled her toward him. To his surprise, she didn’t resist. He felt the curve of her body fit naturally into his and lightly traced the outline of her low-cut blouse. He kissed her softly until they heard movement on the porch. Noelle quickly pulled away and shook her head in disbelief.
She turned toward the kitchen and said loudly, “I have a peach cobbler in the oven, but it’s not quite ready. Would you like some iced tea?”
“Sounds good,” Asa murmured, leaning against the door and waiting to regain his composure before following her.
Nate looked up over his glasses. “Hey there,” he said, standing and putting down the Sunday paper.
“Hey, Uncle Nate,” Asa said, shaking his hand. Nate motioned to a chair. Asa looked around and noticed that the cushions still had the same soft fabric he had fallen asleep on as a boy. He smiled—he had always thought that this porch was one of the most pleasant spots on Earth. It was screened in, and no matter how hot the day, there was always a cool ocean breeze drifting through. It was spacious and had several sitting areas: cushioned wicker chairs that circled a glass cocktail table, a small dining table with wooden chairs in the corner overlooking the ocean, and a long wooden swing on the far end, just like the one at home. Finally, hanging year-round from the ceiling was a string of small white Christmas lights that sparkled at night and gave the porch a festive look, even when there wasn’t a party.
Asa sat down, and Noelle brought out a tray with a pitcher of iced tea and glasses on it. She poured a glass for each of them and handed one to Asa.
“Thanks,” he said.
“You’re welcome,” she replied, a little too quickly, and handed the other glass to Nate.
“Well, Asa,” Nate started, “Noelle and I have been talking, and we don’t want you to feel pressured into this job. If you change your mind and decide that you have more going on than you can handle, please just say so. We’ll certainly understand.”
Asa nodded. “Well, I’d like to give it a try and see how it goes. I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”
Nate looked at Noelle. “All right, then,” he said. He turned back to Asa. “You probably noticed that the front of the house is peeling. Ideally, we’d like to have it scraped and repainted. It’s not very high, so I think a stepladder will be sufficient. The sills out there are in pretty good shape, but the trim is also peeling and needs to be scraped and repainted. I painted the trim on the ends of the house last summer, so they are fine, but there are three sills in the back that, between the weather and the ocean air, constantly take a beating. You can get to them from the roof of the porch,” he said, pointing up. “I don’t know if they need to be replaced or if they can just be painted and last another season.” He hesitated. “Why don’t we go take a look?”
Asa put down his glass and followed Nate up the narrow stairs. Growing up, he and Isaac had often played hide-and-seek in this house. No rooms had ever been off-limits, so Asa knew every closet, corner, and hiding spot. However, he had not been upstairs since before Annie died. As he climbed the worn treads, he was overwhelmed by a rush of memories. Asa stepped into the bedroom and immediately noticed that the room had been painted. He also realized that the old canopy bed and matching furniture had been replaced. The last time he had stood in this room was when Sarah had brought them over to visit Annie. At the time, Isaac and Asa had not realized the importance of their visit; they had not known that their mother had brought them over to say good-bye. Instead, they had thought that their dear friend was going to get better and invite them over again to play cards, or read, or swim. They had sat on the bed and held her hands; they had laughed with her and told her all of their latest adventures; and then they had kissed her on the cheek and said, “See you soon, Ole Pie,” just as they always had, and hopped down the stairs.
