Beloved (70 page)

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Authors: Antoinette Stockenberg

BOOK: Beloved
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"
And you never bothered showing it to a realtor first?
"
he was saying in his implicitly critical way.

"
Not unless you count Phillip,
"
she said.
"
Someone told me he had a broker
'
s license.
"

"
I do not count Phillip,
"
Neal Drew said wryly.
"
All right, then. You
'
ll leave this part to me. I have the name of a broker in town, very aggressive, with a terrific sales record; he can crunch numbers

"

"
Absolutely not!
"
Jane snapped, amazed that her father still regarded her as an unprofitable subsidiary that needed restructuring.
"
I
'
ve already made up my mind on an agent. She
'
s a decent and well-liked woman who cares as much about who buys a house as she does about the commission they
'
ll pay. After the rebuilding, that
'
s who I
'
ll use. Period.
"

Jane was damned if she was going to stick Mac with another rotten neighbor.

"
Jane, with
that
attitude

well, never mind,
"
Neal said with a kindly pat.
"
You
'
ve been under a lot of stress
"

"
Stress, shmess! This has nothing to do with stress, Dad! This has everything to do with your trying to run
my
life to
your
standards!
"
She was taking Mac out on her father; she knew it, and she didn
'
t care.

Neal was clearly taken aback. He gave his daughter a
cool
, hard stare and said,
"
Why did you have us come here, in that case?
"

"
To

because

I don
'
t know!
"
she said hotly.
"
Maybe just for once to say ‘I
'
m sorry things didn
'
t work out, kid.
'
How about
that?
"

Gwendolyn Drew rushed into the room, her radar screen obviously blipping madly, and said,
"
Hey, hey, you two! This is no time for one of your

"

"
Unpleasantries?
"
Jane asked scathingly.

"
—knock-down, drag-out
fights,
"
said her mother crisply. She slipped her arm around Jane and said to her,
"
Ignore him, Jane. He
'
s just an old fart. And you, Neal Drew,
"
she said sharply to her husband.
"
Why don
'
t you make yourself helpful for once in your life? Get that fellow in here to start loading Jane
'
s things into the van.
"

The two women took a short walk out to the little burying ground behind the house while Jane struggled to bring her emotions under control. It was a beautiful day, awash in sun and richly green, an impossible day to leave.

"
You know,
"
said Gwendolyn wistfully as they walked arm in arm,
"
I had begun to adjust very nicely to the thought of your living here. It has very real charm
, this
Nantucket
of yours.  A
nd the air is cl
ean and the people are nice ..
. and it
'
s a sa
fe place to raise children ...
.
"

Jane winced in pain from her mother
'
s well-intentioned words.
"
Bing never would
'
ve lived here year-round anyway, Mother,
"
she said, assuming that her mother had got wind of Bing
'
s intentions.

Gwendolyn Drew looked up at a hawk passing silently overhead.
"
That
'
s not what he told me,
"
she said quietly, shading her eyes with her hand.
"
He
'
s in love with you, you know.
"

But Jane would not be drawn.

They were at Judith
'
s grave, where a fresh mound of rich brown earth covered the rose cutting that Jane had planted there that morning.

Gwendolyn said innocently,
"
Do you ever wonder about the secrets that have gone to these graves?
"

Jane smiled ruefully.
"
Mother, sometimes you can be positively hysterical.
"
They stood over the grave in a moment of undeclared silence. Then Jane said softly,
"
No, I don
'
t wonder, anymore.
"

She looked up automatically in the direction of Mac
'
s house. No sign. Somehow

despite everything she knew about him

she found herself wondering why he didn
'
t come charging down the lane in hot pursuit.

"
We
'
d better get going,
"
she said at last, looking away.
"
The boat won
'
t wait.
"

"
Jane

don
'
t you want to talk about this?
"
Gwendolyn asked, distressed to see her daughter in such obvious pain.

"
Not for a long, long time,
"
Jane said.
"
And maybe not even then.
"

****

The five-thirty ferry to
Hyannis
was the busiest boat of the day. Both levels were filling fast with tired, happy passengers. Jane
'
s salvaged personal possessions, too much for a plane, looked pathetically insignificant in the cargo hold of the boat. The new floral sundress she had on was literally the only wearable thing she owned.

Jane and her mother climbed the stairs and joined Neal Drew, who
'
d managed to claim a table where he sat comfortably immersed in his
Wall Street JournaL
He looked up at them over the rims of his tortoiseshell half-glasses.

"
All aboard?
"
he said mildly.

It was obvious that he didn
'
t know quite how to handle his daughter and was regrouping. Their speech had been polite and strained since Jane
'
s blowup, with both of them waiting for the next misstep.

"
Let
'
s go on deck,
"
Jane
'
s mother said, dragging her daughter outside. They leaned on the stern rail, watching the crowd milling on
Steamboat
Wharf
. Gwendolyn was anxiously scanning the faces below.
"
What time is it?
"
she demanded to know.

"
Five more minutes,
"
Jane said idly.

"
Well, that
'
s it, then. He
'
s not coming.
"

"
Who?
"

"
Bing Andrews. Before you go biting off my head,
"
she said quickly,
"
he called me in
San Francisco
and said he might be on the island today, in which case he
'
d stop in to say good-bye. Probably we
'
ve missed one another.
"

"
Mother

that ship has sailed,
"
Jane said morosely.
"
Get over it.
"
Jane went back to perusing the crowd and was surprised to see a big black dog that she knew well cruising back and forth on the sidelines, checking out the crowd.

"
Look!
"
she cried to her mother.
"
It
'
s Buster! I can
'
t believe he still wanders this far from home; no wonder he
keeps getting arrested.
"
She called his name, yoo-hooing and here-boying to get his attention.

Buster saw her and began barking his Baskerville bark, prompting Gwendolyn to say,
"
Hush, Jane! Stop encouraging him!
"

But it was too late. The dog was making a beeline up the cargo ramp and past the attendant.

Jane said,
"
Oh
shit,
here he comes!
"
and took off to intercept him and put him back on shore.

She raced past her father and down the top flight of stairs, got lost, backtracked, and found her way to the lower flight of stairs that led to the hold. She had one hand on the rail at the head of the stairs when she saw him at the bottom, on his way up.

Mac McKenzie. He was in khakis and a denim shirt, his standard uniform, and he looked as surprised to see her as she was to see him.

"
Oh! I was looking for Buster,
"
she said.

"
I
'
ve sent him back.
"

"
Oh. Well, good. That solves that problem.
"

"
And leaves one other.
"

"
How to find a seat when you
'
re the last one on the ferry?
"

"
How to get you off this boat before it leaves the dock.
"
They were moving toward one another on the stairs now; Jane down, Mac up. She had no idea why her body was behaving the way it was; she herself was still at the top of the stairs, keeping her emotional distance from this man who
'
d caused her so much pain.

She watched herself say,
"
You have about ninety seconds. And as we know, you
'
re not a fast talker.
"

"
I love you.
"

"I ... m
y parents are on board. All my things are on board.
"

"
I love you.
"

"
I can
'
t just walk off this boat, Mac. I can
'
t. Not anymore.
"

He was on the step below hers, his eyes on a level with hers. She looked into them and saw bottomless depths of love and resolve, and it took her breath away. He
caught her
in his
arms
and brought his mouth over hers in a kiss that both Janes

the Jane at the top of the stairs and the Jane that he held close

knew was a pledge of commitment. For life.

"
Then I
'
ll carry you off,
"
he
said
when he let her go,
"
and make it easy for you.
"

He lifted her effortlessly
and
carried her down the steps, through the cargo hold, and over the ramp. Jane heard laughter, and then whistling, and finally loud cheering. For a man who rarely left the island, Mac McKenzie seemed to know everyone who worked on the ferry landing. She was too light-headed to remember much of what followed, but she did remember the ramp being raised out of the way, and the great diesel engines of the
Uncatena
being revved up for departure.

And the look on her mother
'
s face as she stood on the afterdeck, watching Mac lower Jane to her feet.

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