The Gin & Chowder Club, page 7
Asa’s stomach had been rumbling for an hour when Noelle finally offered to make sandwiches.
“I brought lunch,” Asa said. “In fact, I have two, if you’d like one.”
“I’m sure you brought two because you can eat two.”
“Actually, I skipped my run this morning, so I really don’t need to eat both of them. You’re welcome to have one.”
“Okay.”
“Do you want to have lunch up by the pool?”
“Sounds good. I’m just going to get some iced tea. Want some?”
Asa pulled the bottle of orange juice out of his cooler. “I’m set,” he said. “Thanks anyway.”
“You certainly come prepared.”
Martha followed Asa up to the pool, and Noelle joined them a few minutes later. She was carrying a large glass of sweet tea and a plate of chocolate chip cookies. “These cookies are not holding up very well in this heat. You’d better eat them.”
Asa looked at the melting chocolate. “Oh, we won’t have any trouble with those, will we, Martha?” Martha wagged her tail agreeably, happy to have her name mentioned in close proximity to the word cookies. Asa handed Noelle one of his sandwiches and leaned back in his chair in the shade of the umbrella. Noelle took half and wrapped the other half back up.
The air was heavy with the monotonous trilling of crickets and the hum of laboring bees. The unmistakable sounds of a steamy July day, sounds reminiscent of simpler times, Asa thought, absently composing. The wings of the season, droning endlessly, blissfully ignorant of summer’s fleeting hours . . .
They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, eating their sandwiches. A bluebird alighted on the wooden gate and burst into a song. “Look!” Noelle whispered. Suddenly, his mate called from the tree line, and the flash of cobalt was off again, as quickly as he had come.
Noelle finished her sandwich and reached for her iced tea. “Did you bring your suit?” she asked.
“No, but I meant to. I meant to bring a radio too.”
“Well, you can borrow a pair of Nate’s shorts if you want to jump in.”
Asa looked at Noelle and said slyly, “I didn’t need shorts the other day.”
Noelle feigned shock. “You mean you went skinny-dipping in my pool?”
Asa reached for the uneaten half sandwich, smiling. “Well, it was just so damn hot, and I didn’t want you to come home and find me suffering from heat stroke. I really was just thinking of you.” He couldn’t help but look in her eyes as he said this.
“Well, at least you were thinking of me,” she teased.
“Always,” he said with a smile.
“So, what’s stopping you today? I can go paint, and you can cool off.”
“Or . . . you could join me . . .”
“Mmmm . . . that would be fun. But as enticing as it sounds . . .” Noelle smiled gently. “I’d better not. You still could, though.”
“No, that’s all right,” he said. “You’re just saying that so you’ll finish your half of the house before me.” He grinned at her as he finished his drink.
She laughed. “You know, Asa, you’ll never be able to conceal where you’re from with that accent.”
Asa broke a cookie in half and gave it to Martha. “You’re one to talk,” he teased, standing up.
Noelle laughed, knowing it was true.
19
The front of the house was sunnier in the afternoon, making the job almost intolerable. Martha had found cool shade under a nearby tree, and Asa envied her, wishing he could take off his shirt. He and Noelle worked in silence for a while.
“If you want to quit, it’s okay by me,” he said.
“You just want to win.”
“I didn’t realize you were so competitive,” he teased.
“Well, when you grow up in the shadow of a big brother, it’s kind of a survival thing.”
Asa laughed. “I know what you mean. By the way, what does your brother do now?”
Noelle looked over at him and gave him a half-smile. “Asa, you’re going to think it’s not safe to be around me.”
Asa looked puzzled, then realized what she was going to tell him. He shook his head. “I should just stop asking questions.”
“That’s okay. I don’t mind. When Pete and I were growing up, our lives were influenced by our parents’ examples of service to others. It was only natural for Pete to enlist. My father was torn by Pete’s decision. On one hand, as a man of God, he didn’t believe in one man taking another’s life. At the same time, however, he was so very proud of his son. My mother was heartbroken when he shipped out, and when we received the news that he had been killed, we were devastated. Everyone loved Pete. I was only sixteen at the time, but seeing my parents’ heartache, I can honestly say that it shook their faith to the core.”
Noelle paused and then went on. “Asa, Pete died doing what he was raised to do: help others. For me, looking back at the course of his life, I realize now that it had always been leading up to that moment. Like so many other brave men, he gave his life for others. In time, my parents grew to realize this, too, but the initial shock was almost more than they could bear.”
“You have certainly seen more than your share of tragedy,” Asa said quietly.
“Mmmm.” Noelle was then silent and lost in thought. Soon she smiled again. “Enough about me! How ’bout you?”
“Oh, there’s not much to tell,” Asa said, shaking his head. He had finished painting around the second window and was closing in on the door frame. “It’s been my strategy to distract you, though, so I can win.”
Noelle laughed. “And you say I’m competitive?”
“Didn’t I tell you this morning? Last one finished buys the beer.”
“Is that so?” Noelle dipped her brush and began painting with renewed vigor.
An hour later, Asa stepped back and viewed the house. Noelle put down her brush and stood beside him. She reached up and lightly put one hand on his shoulder and leaned against him. He knew it was an innocent gesture, but to Asa, the touch of her hand rushed through his body like a brush fire burning through dry tinder.
“Looks good!” she said.
Asa nodded slowly, not wanting to move—afraid to move— afraid that she would take her hand away. And now, the only thing he wanted was to feel her touch.
Noelle gently squeezed his shoulder and laughed. “Well, I guess the beer’s on me!” Then she added, “Pizza, too, if you’d like . . .” She stepped away and grinned at him. Asa smiled back. He looked at the tan of her flushed cheeks. He studied her dark eyes and the way her hair, damp with perspiration, fell across her forehead. He wanted to reach out and gently touch her face, to lightly brush her hair back into place. Instead he held his arms stiffly at his sides and struggled to gain control over his desire.
God, please help me. I don’t know if I can keep doing this.
20
After Asa left to pick up the pizza, Noelle replenished Martha’s water and hurried upstairs for a shower. She washed quickly, wanting to be back downstairs before he returned. She was toweling dry when she glimpsed her reflection in the long mirror hanging on the back of the bathroom door. She paused and slowly ran her hand over the flatness of her tan stomach and she stood up straighter. Not bad for thirty-two, she thought. She looked at the fullness of her breasts and then turned slightly to see her backside. I could still pass for twenty-five . . . maybe . . . Well, okay, twenty-six. She sighed. Eighteen is long gone, though. She studied her body. What am I thinking? This is crazy! She threw the towel at the mirror and pulled on a pair of clean white shorts and a pink sleeveless blouse. As she brushed her hair, she pictured Asa’s blue eyes and the crooked way his mouth curved up on one side when he laughed. He is definitely a cute kid, she thought, but that’s the operative word: kid—one who, I’m sure, already has plenty of female attention!
Hearing the truck in the driveway, Noelle hurried downstairs. She was just opening the fridge when he came in. “Hey, that’s not fair,” he said, seeing that she had showered and changed.
“Well, you can shower, too, if you’d like.”
Asa quickly considered the opportunity to stand in the shower where Noelle had just stood—naked. The invitation was tempting.
“No, I’m just kidding,” he heard himself say, and then added, “But I was thinking—would you like to walk down to the beach with all this?”
“Walk down?”
“It’s not far—there’s a path behind the pool.” Noelle looked puzzled. How could she not know that there was a path from her own yard? “Isaac and I wore it in years ago. It’s a little overgrown, but it’s still passable.”
Twenty minutes later, Asa had laid out a beach blanket and was trying to tune in a small portable radio. The crowd on the beach was thinning out, but some late-day sun lovers still lingered. Noelle sat down on the blanket and opened the pizza box. She recognized the lyrics of a Patti Page hit from three summers earlier. “I love that song. Can you get it to come in?”
Asa slowly turned the knob, and the lyrics lilted sweetly into the evening air. Noelle sang along softly to the famous song about loving old Cape Cod. Asa just listened and sipped his icy beer. It tasted good after the long, hot day. The song ended, and as Asa reached for a slice of pizza, the announcer said, “Now here’s another summer song for all you lovers out there, from last year’s hit movie starring Sandra Dee and Troy Donahue. See if you recognize this one.” A popular instrumental theme drifted from the radio, and Noelle asked Asa if he had seen the movie. He nodded as he hungrily devoured his first slice before Noelle even started.
They sat quietly, looking out at the waves, and Asa began to notice the silence. Noelle reached for a slice of pizza. “Now, back to what we were talking about before.”
Asa looked questioningly at her over his beer bottle.
“Don’t you remember?”
He shook his head.
“You.”
“I already told you—there isn’t anything to tell. Nothing new or exciting, and besides, you already know everything.”
“I’m sure I don’t know everything. After all, here you are, Asa, on the cusp of life, full of hopes and dreams and heading off to college—that’s very exciting.”
“Well, it should be, but sometimes I think I would rather just stay here and get a job and never leave the Cape. I love it here.” He paused before continuing. “Going to college will definitely be different from going to prep school. Isaac had already been at the Gunnery for a year when I started. He was always around, and that made it easy for me. By the time he graduated, I was very comfortable being there.” He shook his head. “This won’t be the same. I’m not like Isaac.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll do fine. Colleges take great strides to make sure their freshmen become oriented and settled. Besides, you will be so busy with classes, making friends—and meeting women—you won’t have time to be homesick.”
Asa looked over at Noelle and raised his eyebrows. “Meeting women? I’m afraid I’m not very good at that. Besides, not only are there no women at Dartmouth”—he hesitated and caught her eye—“but I’m already hooked on someone.”
“Oh, Asa.” She smiled gently at him. “If I were ten years younger and not married,” she added with a frown, “you would be just the kind of guy I’d be looking for—funny, handsome, not to mention poetic. I could go on, but I don’t want it to go to your head!”
Asa shook his head again. “Noelle, I don’t think there will ever be another . . . like you.”
“There will be, Asa,” she said softly. “I promise.”
Asa looked out at the waves, and his mind drifted. He thought back to the day last fall when he had gone hiking with a group of friends at school. The October air had been crisp and cool. Flames of color had swept the countryside and shimmered against the sapphire sky. Lane, a local girl, and two of her friends had come along and had brought a couple bottles of wine. They had walked along the Shepaug River and hiked up to the pinnacle. There they had lingered on the rock outcropping, reveling in the radiance of the late-afternoon sun and passing around the wine.
Later, still feeling euphoric, they had ventured into an abandoned train tunnel. Asa had just walked into the darkness of the turn inside the tunnel when Lane had slipped her hand into his and pulled him back. He had looked at her questioningly and had suddenly felt her warm lips, tasting sweetly of wine, pressing softly against his. He had been so surprised that he had just stood there. Even so, he had been thrilled by this turn of events and had held her hand until they had reached the trailhead. After that day, though, Lane had seemed embarrassed and avoided him. Asa decided that it was his weak response to her kiss that was to blame.
Noelle watched Asa wipe the condensation on the outside of his bottle and wondered what he was thinking.
“Well, enough about me,” he said, genuinely unaware that he hadn’t actually spoken but had only thought about that day. “I bet you were a handful as a teenager,” he said, turning to Noelle.
“Me?” She laughed. “I was an angel, of course!”
Asa opened a second beer for himself and one for Noelle. “Here,” he said, handing it to her. “There’s truth in wine.”
She laughed. “It won’t help, remember? I was a P.K.”
“That’s the worst kind,” he teased.
“Well, I suppose you’re right—maybe I wasn’t perfect.”
Asa laughed. “You see, there is truth in wine!”
“I haven’t even had any yet.”
“Well, go ahead, and then tell me how you weren’t perfect.”
Noelle took a long drink and thought for a moment. Is this really something I should be talking about? “All right,” she began. “There was, perhaps, one time when I wasn’t exactly an angel.” She studied Asa. “But I was young, and at the time, it just felt right. It was the summer after Pete shipped out. His best friend Tom had just turned eighteen and couldn’t wait to catch up with him. I had had a crush on Tom for years. He was tall and slender, and all the girls thought he was dreamy. After Pete left, Tom continued to come by our house to talk and to find out if we had heard from Pete. I could tell that he missed him, and I honestly thought that was the reason he was coming by. I was so innocent—I certainly didn’t think he was coming to see me.
“Anyway, the night before he was to leave, our church had a reception for him. At the end of the evening, we were having a hymn-sing around the campfire, so Tom and I ran up to the choir loft to grab some hymnals. . . .” Noelle paused and took a sip of her beer, she seemed lost in her thoughts. Asa watched her but didn’t say anything. The only sounds were the pounding surf and the wistful lyrics of the Platters coming from the radio.
Noelle smiled. “This station always plays such good songs. They bring back so many memories.” Asa just nodded. “Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes, the hymn-sing. Well, the sanctuary was dark—especially in the choir loft—and I tripped and dropped my hymnals. Tom knelt down to help me, and then everything happened so quickly. He had tears in his eyes, and he told me he was afraid of not coming back, afraid he would never get married, never make love, and I . . . well . . . I . . .” She paused, then smiled mischievously at him. “I guess I’ll have to leave the rest up to your imagination. . . .”
Asa watched her, his whole body aching. He had never known desire like this. “Sixteen and . . . and in a church?” he stammered in disbelief. “I guess you were a little wild!”
“Hey, now, I like to think of it as a sort of ‘last request’!”
“Well, I guess that’s one way of looking at it,” Asa replied. They were quiet, and Asa started to visualize Noelle at sixteen, lying on her back in a dark choir loft. It was more than he wanted to think about, so he stopped himself. “Do I dare ask what happened to him? Please don’t tell me he died too.”
Noelle half smiled and shook her head. “We wrote back and forth during his tour, and I saw him once when he returned. He came to visit Pete’s grave, and I went with him. But after that, his family moved away, and we lost touch. The war had changed him, and I guess it just wasn’t meant to be.
“But, Asa, please . . . all this is just between you and me. I don’t know how you get me to talk so much. Even Nate doesn’t know about this. . . .”
“Don’t worry,” Asa replied. “Your secrets are safe with me.” He leaned back on the blanket and looked up at the stars. Frank Sinatra was softly crooning an old Gershwin song. Asa listened in wonder to the words that he had heard so many times growing up, words that now seemed to be meant just for him. Oh, how he needed someone to watch over him. . . .
21
In the days that followed, Asa could think of nothing else. He slept fitfully and had almost no appetite. He declined invitations to go out with friends, and to Sarah he seemed sullen and brooding. It was not until she had asked him several times what was troubling him that Asa realized that he needed to do a better job of concealing the madness that was churning inside. Sarah, for her part, hoped that her son was just anxious about school and prayed that his uncharacteristic mood swings would simply subside. By Friday morning, her prayers seemed to be answered. Asa appeared, smiling, at breakfast, kissed her lightly on his way out, and whistled a carefree tune as he walked to his truck.
By Friday afternoon, however, his heart was once again full of an increasing, familiar apprehension. He pulled slowly up the sandy driveway to the old red Cape and looked up at the massive stone chimney protruding stoically from the center of its roofline. He pictured the mason that had stood high above the ground almost two hundred years earlier, toiling under the same hot sun and looking out in awe at the same rugged coastline. He imagined the intensity of the man’s concentration and the sweat dripping from his brow as he carefully chose each stone for the most impressive part of the chimney.
