AT 29 (118 page)

“Eugene sounds good,” Jimmy said, when Ellis returned from the stage.

“Yep. He's working some guys from Alabama. McCabe wants to open a country music division.”

Only Nigel Whitehurst was missing. He was on tour in Australia. Jimmy missed his friend, but he was a huge international star with obligations of his own. Reina was with him, working furiously on the Whitehurst project despite the constant travel from city to city.

Peggy, Les and Hillary were in the parlor of the farmhouse when Alice came down the stairs decked out in the cheerleader uniform she once wore in high school. She pirouetted in the center of the room as Hillary frowned and Peggy roared with laughter.

“Les,” Alice had the look of a girl on patrol. “I used to wear this for Jimmy.”

“Yeah,” Peggy piped in. “A lot of good it did you!”

Les looked from sister to sister. “He didn't take the hint?”

“He knew trouble when he saw it!” Hillary had the keys to the station wagon. She handed them to Peggy. “Get going girls.”

Alice headed for the door. “C'mon Les, Peggy's gonna drive. Sixteen again, on the grass at Skip's.
We've been having fun all summer long!”

They picked up Kate, Melinda and Marsha at Holland Manor. Cindy followed in the Lincoln with Miles behind the wheel. When they pulled into the lot a dozen cars and pickups were already parked.

“Oooh, Peggy, there's kids out there on the grass just like we used to do!” Alice leapt out and ran ahead. The rest of the women followed except for Kate who made straight for the front door.

“Men only, bloody hell!”

Cindy pushed Miles toward the door then rushed to catch Les' arm. They walked around the building to the back. “I've heard about this place. I always wanted to see it.”

When they rounded the corner they entered a sea of blankets scattered on the grass, teens rollicking to the beat and some dancing. They knew the words and sang a chorus whenever familiar refrains came through the big windows. Lake Memphremagog shined black beneath the starlight. Alice was already up close to one of the windows, peering in just like she did when she was waiting for Jimmy to come outside. Peggy pulled her away.

Within minutes the music stopped. Then a new voice pierced the night air. Kate opened a Capella, but soon found her voice surrounded by instrumentation as every musician chimed in. The song was
Paradise
. No one needed to be told it was her way of filling in for the missing Nigel.

“He's got to sing!” Alice said, coming to Les' side as Kate finished. “You have to hear him like we did when we were kids.” Peggy came over with the others until all six women, sans Kate, were in a group by the window.

Miles felt out of place until he spotted Skip behind the bar. At least there was another man his age in the room.

“No booze tonight!” Skip shouted over the loud music.

“That's fine, I'll have a soda with ice.” Skip went for a glass.

A chant started from somewhere outside. It was hard to understand through the jam onstage, but Miles thought he caught Jimmy's name. The music drifted lower as Skip placed the soda on the counter. “So, you're the boss?”

“Not tonight,” Miles answered, lifting the glass. “Strictly a spectator.”

“You got him off the scotch?” Skip nodded down the bar where Jimmy was chatting with Ellis.

“No. He took care of that himself.”

“Yeah? Well, that's a good thing you did anyway.”

“Jimmy got his start here with you?”

“That's right. Up on that stage. The boy's got talent. Of course, you know that.”

The chant grew louder. “Jimmy, Jimmy!”

“I think the people outside want to hear him sing.” Both men looked down the bar to see what Jimmy would do. Ellis stood and pointed to the stage. Kate came over and took Jimmy by the arm. “There he goes,” Skip said. “Like old times.”

Sonny handed him a guitar. Ted and Eugene stepped back to make space while Travis banged a steady bass on his foot pedal.

Intrinsic Colors
was a song re-mastered for
Back and Blue
, one of the earlier tunes that never found an audience when the Jimmy Button Band played it. On a hunch, Miles McCabe released it as a single while Jimmy was away in Australia. It was currently #12 on the pop charts. Sales of
Back and Blue
ticked up. MTV wanted a video, but Miles couldn't deliver because Jimmy was entrenched in Australia. He tapped Skip on the shoulder.

“You wouldn't happen to have a video camera around here would you?”

Skip brightened, “As a matter of fact…” He left his stool and went behind the bar. He bent down, reached into a cupboard and brought out a shoulder mount RCA video cam. “Is this what you mean? We make it available for weddings and such.”

Miles couldn't contain his delight. “How about the lights. Can you turn them up as bright as possible?”

“Sure thing, boss.” Skip went off to flip every switch in the hall. Soon the room was awash in bright light.

Jimmy fiddled with a few strings then stamped his foot. “One, two, three…”

McCabe raised the camera to his shoulder and trained the lens on center stage. Who knows? He decided, as he flicked it on, maybe the video engineers can make something out of this. Jimmy launched into the song.

Outside, Alice coaxed Les to the window. “See? That's how he looked back then. It's exactly how it used to be. Oh, Peggy, don't you just love it?”

Marsha and Melinda began to walk away. Cindy followed. Seconds later they rounded the corner of the building to the entrance. Mid-way through the song Joe appeared on the grass and walked over to his wife. Peggy smiled and took his hand. Then she circled Alice's waist with her other arm and the threesome sauntered through the blankets to the edge of Lake Memphremagog.

Les turned away from the window, suddenly aware that she was alone. She looked around, wondering what she should do.
Intrinsic Colors
was nearing its end. For an instant she felt the urge to join Peggy, Joe and Alice, but then her heart pulled her in the opposite direction. In less than twenty-four hours she would be married to the only man who ever made her feel so full of happiness, so in love, so safe. She thought about the thrill of being by his side at the piano. Without a moment's hesitation she let her feet carry her around the building to the entrance. She climbed the steps, thinking about the cottage in Apollo Bay. Why did that come to mind? She didn't know. She stopped just inside and surveyed the room. Cindy was at the bar beside Miles. Marsha was close to the stage looking adoringly at Sonny. Melinda was at the keyboards, preparing to play as Jimmy strummed the opening to
Peg
. He looked up. Their eyes locked and he stopped.

For a moment, there were no others in the room. Everyone watched the couple. The unspoken message went between them as Jimmy stood and pointed to Skip's ancient console piano against the wall. A moment later, only two instruments filled Skip's with
sound. Les played from memory while Jimmy gently strummed his guitar. They sang together:

Because you turned me to the angel
In my midst

Walker Jorgen met them in his home office on Story Street two blocks from Harvard Square. He was a plump, white haired fifty-nine year old with a pretty English professor wife and three grown children. In most respects he was retired, having earned a good living as mechanical engineer before leaving corporate life to consult part time. That is, when the spirit moved him. His passion was writing mystery novels and his only other role was managing the Whitehurst Trust, established by his grand aunt, Melba, in 1930.

“I must say I was taken by surprise when I received Nigel Whitehurst's telephone call.” He gestured for Jimmy and Les to take seats. “How can I help you?”

“We were married over the weekend and decided Nantucket would be a nice place to spend a few days before returning to Australia. We plan to take the ferry from Hyannis tomorrow.”

“Congratulations.” He glanced from Jimmy to Les, smiling. “The island is the perfect place.”

“Thank-you. As for the trust, Nigel told me about the land in Siasconset.”

“Yes, that's right. The land is his, of course. I've begun the paperwork to make the transfer. What is your connection to him?”

“We're friends. He asked us to have a look and take some pictures.”

“I have a famous cousin from down under, quite the revelation.” He smiled. “And, I'm honored to meet you as well. As for the trust, I'm afraid he's in for some disappointment.”

“Why?”

“Are you familiar with that area of Nantucket?”

“I've been there a few times. I know the Chanticleer and Sconset Beach down off the foot bridge.”

“Yes, near the rose covered cottages, casino and post office.”

“Casino?” Les questioned.

Jorgen turned to look at her. “Sconset was once an actor's enclave. The casino was built in 1899 for summer productions. Today, it's a tennis center and informal movie house.” He turned back to Jimmy. “The areas you mention are off Low Beach Road and Ocean Avenue. The Whitehurst land is in the other direction toward Sankaty Light.”

“I know the lighthouse. If I remember correctly it overlooks the golf course”

“Quite right. Sankaty Light is an island landmark, but it's threatened. It'll go into the sea if something isn't done soon.”

“Erosion?”

“Yes, very bad in recent years.”

Jimmy turned to Les. “He's referring to the cliffs. They've been eroded by storms for centuries.”

“Baxter Road.” Jorgen interjected. “Most of the land has been developed all along the cliff.” He brightened. “It's a very exclusive area. Many of the old cottages have been torn down and replaced by sizeable summer homes. Some would call them mansions. It's risky though. Recently, a wealthy financier paid three million only see the entirety of his back lawn tumble away. The property is roped off. He'll have to put up another three million to shore it up.”

“I assume this has something to do with the Whitehurst Trust?”

“Yes, what's left of it.” He opened a drawer in his desk, brought out a map and spread it on the desktop. Jimmy and Les leaned forward to look. “Here's Siasconset and here's Sankaty Light.” He circled two locations with a pencil. “Sankaty Road runs between and Baxter Road is an offshoot that runs along the cliff here.” He drew a pencil line along the water's edge. “The condemned property is here, next to the last spit of land that hasn't been developed. That's the Whitehurst Trust.”

“How much land is there?”

“It used to be six acres.”

Jimmy sat back. “Used to be?”

“Today it's just over three.”

“That much has eroded?”

“I'm afraid so.”

Les had a curious expression on her face from the moment the ferry rounded Brant Point. The tiny lighthouse, marking the entrance to Nantucket harbor, seemed to welcome the newlyweds as they stood at the bow and watched the lumbering vessel dock. She took everything in, occasionally turning her head to concentrate on this building or that storefront.

They brought the Saab. Les insisted because she wanted to see every inch of the island. The crowded summer resort, especially Nantucket town with its rough cobblestone main street, was better suited to tiny vehicles and four wheel drives that could shoehorn into scant parking spaces or withstand the dirt roads along Cisco beach. But, as they came off the ferry, top-down, Jimmy was delighted to meander the short route from Steamboat Wharf to Broad Street and the Jared Coffin House. Most of the sights were familiar and he scarcely needed to think as he maneuvered the car around bikers and pedestrians.

“Different from Lake Winnipesaukee, isn't it?” Jimmy grinned contentedly.

“You obviously haven't spent a summer in Wolfeboro, New Hampshire.”

“I only meant Nantucket has a charm all its own.” He jumped on the brakes just as a biker swerved in front of the car.

“We'll see.” She went back to taking everything in.

After unpacking, Jimmy went off to make reservations for dinner while Les explored the ornate mansion. The well-preserved lobby was pristinely decorated with nineteenth century furnishings and paintings that emphasized Nantucket's storied past. She wandered from room to room, identifying what was new and what was original from the dining room to the bar and reading rooms. The sound of traffic, ever-present in summer, beckoned her to the sidewalk. She surveyed the stately brick building, imagining how it must look when cold nor'easters drive wind, rain and snow against its sides. Why such a thought came to mind on the third day of July, she didn't know.

They decided to relax and enjoy. They had five days. Running out to Siasconset to take pictures for Nigel could wait. In the meantime, they filled the hours exploring the shops in town. At dusk the next evening they headed to Jetties Beach, joining a summer crowd numbering close to a thousand to loll on the sand and enjoy the Fourth of July fireworks. Afterwards, they walked back to town and bought ice cream cones at one of the two soda fountains that competed side-by-side on Main Street, little changed since the 1940s.

The next day, Jimmy rented a small day sailer at Children's Beach. They spent the morning harnessing the tricky breezes of Nantucket Harbor, making their way across to Monomoy and the majestic summer homes that lined the waterway. In the afternoon they shopped. He bought Les a gold pendant. It was fashioned in the shape of a basket, the island's defacto trademark along with the whale.

They drove out to Surfside and Cisco beaches. Then they returned to town and parked at the top of Main Street to survey the Victorian homes of merchants and whaling captains from a bygone era. Hand in hand, they meandered with other vacationers, casually stopping here and there to look at the stately structures until they came to one that captured Les' interest.