Summer of Dreams (5 page)

Clyde watched Evelyn depart from the library, her notes from the afternoon’s explorations tucked under her arm. He put the books on the re-shelving cart and tried to pretend that he was tough and confident and didn’t feel like his heart had just been stomped flat beneath Evelyn’s pointy little boot heels.

Which was hard. Evelyn White seemed perfect for him on every level. She shared his love of tinkering with things. She was smart and curious and funny—oh, and she was a stunner. He’d known she would be hard to win, but he’d thought it would involve overcoming her mistrust of men angling to get closer to her father. Turned out, that would have been an easier challenge.

Because what she’d said about the wandering life of an engineer was correct. If all went according to plan, he would win an appointment to the Corps of Engineers and would spend most of his career traveling, whether it was to build bridges and harbors in distant lands in times of war, or to help lay the nation’s infrastructure of railroads, tunnels, and telecommunications in times of peace. He couldn’t offer Evelyn the kind of stability she craved.

But he could build her a better terrace in her greenhouse. Even if he couldn’t court Evelyn, he still wanted her as a friend.

As the next few weeks passed, it was exactly as he’d hoped. May turned into June, and as the summer turned warmer, his friendship with Evelyn and Romulus deepened. He had never made such fast friends before. Evelyn and Romulus welcomed him into their lives, and as they transformed the greenhouse, they formed a bond as tight and glorious as The Three Musketeers. They soundproofed the generator. Then they dug, lined, and installed the koi pond. Clyde showed Evelyn a more efficient
way to add another terrace atop the existing one, and within a week they had a third level in the greenhouse. Romulus made a journey back to Boston to purchase another batch of exotic orchids for the new terrace, as well as a dozen fish for the pond. He brought the fish back to West Point by train, holding the glass jars filled with live koi fish on his lap the entire journey. They released the large, placid goldfish into the pond, and the three of them stood over it, gazing like proud parents as the fat, slow-moving fish explored their new home.

Clyde spent most of each day in the greenhouse, for it was a magical place, and he was wise enough to know such periods of happiness were rare. He helped Evelyn plant lemon verbena and Irish moss so that they lined the new terrace like a carpet. Romulus bartered his Japanese cloisonné cuff links for a mature holly shrub, and its height made the new terrace look as if it had been there for years. All the while, swallowtail butterflies fluttered in the greenhouse, scattering only when one of the hummingbirds came zooming into view.

And the hummingbird eggs were going to hatch soon. Last week, Clyde had propped a mirror high over the nest so they’d have a perfect view without disturbing the birds, and Romulus had noticed a slight change in the eggs’ color. He was convinced they would hatch sometime on Thursday. Clyde arrived early that day, but even though he stayed through dinner, there was still no sign of the eggs hatching.

But he couldn’t leave. It seemed even the hummingbirds anticipated that the hatching was imminent, for they hovered near the nest most of the day. It was odd behavior for hummingbirds, which rarely loitered anywhere for long, so Romulus was probably right.

Clyde had worked hard to make this environment perfect for those birds, but that wasn’t the real reason he wanted to stay. It was because Evelyn and Romulus were both bursting with
excitement, and he wanted to be here when those tiny birds, probably no larger than his thumbnail, finally emerged from their miniscule eggs.

They had plans to install the moon lighting later in the summer, but the wires had not been laid yet, so Evelyn brought a pair of lanterns from the house to cast soft illumination in the corner of the greenhouse. They ate apples and cheese and jam tarts, trying to keep their voices low in deference to the hummingbirds, but it was hard when laughter was always just beneath the surface.

Romulus said he’d changed his mind about graduate school and was contemplating a three-year expedition to Brazil to study wildlife. Laura said she would like to go along, and the two of them would spend the first years of their married life on a grand adventure.

“I’ll bet the army would hire you,” Evelyn said. “Father says they are hiring naturalists these days.”

Romulus shuddered. “I could never spend my life in a uniform. Drab beige might be good enough for Brixton here, but he’s got no sense of style. Beside, I’d have to work too hard in the army.”

Clyde grinned. “You’ll have to get a job eventually, won’t you? You can’t sail through life based on your ability to match your socks to your ties.”

“Noticed that, did you?” Romulus asked with pride.

Who else wore green socks to match a green tie? Clyde figured Romulus had them custom-made, but he still wanted the answer to his question. “I’m serious. What is your plan?”

Romulus sobered. “I don’t know what I want,” he admitted. “In a perfect world, Laura and I would run away together. Maybe live on an island off Capri or carve out a haven in the wild Scandinavian fjords. We’d live off the fruit of the land, dance in the rain. That’s the thing about Laura. Her dreams are as wild as mine, and we’ll figure things out as we go.” He
slanted a narrow glance at Clyde. “People like you who know exactly what they want drive me crazy.”

Clyde only smiled, because it was true. He’d always known what he wanted, but it wasn’t until he met Romulus that he realized what a gift that sense of purpose was.

“Romulus . . .” Evelyn whispered. Her eyes were fixed on the mirror propped above the hummingbird nest. Clyde followed her gaze and saw that the female hummingbird had settled into the nest, something she hadn’t done all day. She bobbed her head low into the nest, as though engrossed.

They had been anticipating this from the beginning. Clyde held his breath as the three of them moved to stand beneath the mirror, entranced by the activity inside the nest.

The mother’s body blocked some of the view, but alongside her was the unmistakable sight of a wriggling, red, featherless little creature. It was alive! Clyde smiled so wide his face hurt.

“Look at them,” Evelyn whispered in awe.

He didn’t know how long they stood there staring like besotted fools, but this moment was perfect, and nothing in the world could tempt him away.

It wasn’t until the last rays of sunlight disappeared and the lanterns burned out that it became impossible to keep observing the hummingbirds. Clyde knew it was past time for him to leave, but he didn’t want to go yet. He wanted to carve every moment of this perfect day on his soul, for it was quite possibly the purest moment of happiness he’d ever known. This had been the best summer of his life.

“I hope we will have more days like this,” he said, surprised at the sudden swell of emotion.

“I do, too,” Evelyn said instantly, which made the lump in his throat grow even larger. What a sap he was, but at least he wasn’t alone in this feeling. He felt as though he’d found two friends for a lifetime.

And if Evelyn never welcomed him as a suitor? At least she would be his friend, and perhaps that would be good enough.

Then again, he’d never been the sort to settle for
good enough
. The hope and energy racing through his veins made him believe anything was possible, and that kind of feeling made a man bold. He wouldn’t give up on Evelyn without a fight.

T
he pungent scent of corn grain and fertilizer made Clyde’s nose wrinkle as he stepped inside the Farm and Feed Supply store. The August heat made the scent especially strong, and his gaze wandered over the barrels of grain and other supplies stacked to the rafters of the modest store. He’d come with Romulus to buy some kind of fertilizer Romulus thought would help revive the struggling peonies in the greenhouse. They headed to the back counter of the store, where Romulus greeted the proprietor like he was an old friend.

“Hello, Jason,” Romulus said with an easy smile. “I need a good nitrogen fertilizer, and a little chicken manure, please.”

Clyde struggled not to laugh, for surely Romulus was the only man alive who would wear an emerald tie clip while ordering chicken manure. Clyde shrank back a few inches as the store owner opened the lid of a barrel behind the counter and scooped a sandy gray substance into a sack, but Romulus did not flinch. The store owner asked Romulus’s suggestions for handling root fungus on his mulberry trees, and it was impressive how easily Romulus rattled off a stream of instructions.
Clyde knew next to nothing about plants or chemistry, but Romulus loved discussing both.

And wouldn’t stop. Clyde shifted from foot to foot. He’d accompanied Romulus here today to pick the man’s brain about how to soften up Evelyn. No one on the planet knew Evelyn better than Romulus, and if Clyde had a prayer of winning her, he needed Romulus’s help. The summer was almost over, and he didn’t have much more time.

To make things worse, Clyde had never once in his life had a girlfriend, and he was completely ignorant of how to go about things. Evelyn had told him that Romulus had had dozens of girlfriends, beginning when he was thirteen and a cluster of neighborhood girls had drawn straws to see who would get to bake him a cake on his birthday. Romulus never bragged, but he’d kept company with a slew of girls from Radcliffe College while he was at Harvard. All that had stopped two years ago when Romulus had become obsessed with Laura Hartley, on whom he lavished an endless stream of gifts, poetry, and outrageously priced chocolates. Clyde suspected that most of Romulus’s jaunts back to Boston this summer had been as much about visiting Laura as they had been to buy koi fish or fancy orchids.

During his entire three years at West Point, Clyde had avoided the cotillion parties because he tended to be tongue-tied and clumsy around girls. That wasn’t the case with Evelyn, but he still didn’t know how to overcome her instinctive reaction against men who served in the army. There was no point in mincing words, and as soon as their fertilizer was loaded into the back of the wagon, Clyde cut straight to the point. “What is the best way to help Evelyn get over her aversion to a man in uniform?” he asked bluntly.

If Romulus was surprised, it didn’t show as he casually flicked the reins to prod the horse along faster. The cart bumped and
jolted over the craters in the unpaved road, and Clyde clenched his fists, awaiting the answer.

“Hopeless case there,” Romulus said without looking at him. “She’d rather court her backyard lemon tree than a man in the army. Sorry, Clyde.”

Clyde had expected a little resistance and was prepared to keep digging. “What about if I helped persuade her father to let her go to college? Would any of that gratitude rub off on me?”

“Nope. Try again.”

“Money. What if my patent goes through and I make a ton of money from it? Will she look at me then?” Evelyn didn’t strike him as a girl overly impressed by money, but that was probably because she’d always had it. She’d surely want to marry a man with money, as well.

“Will you still be in the army?” Romulus asked.

“Probably.”

“Then probably not.” With a gentle tug on the reins, Romulus guided the cart toward the side of the road and stopped the horse. “Look,” he said, not unkindly, “Evelyn had a tough time growing up. Even now, she still has to go from house to house because her father won’t let her live alone. As soon as I go back to school, she’ll be moving into our Aunt Bess’s house. Do you know what it’s like to always be a guest in someone else’s home? Never have a place of your own?”

He did, actually. The last few years while his father had been alive had been spent moving in and out of increasingly seedy boardinghouses. It wasn’t until he’d landed at a dormitory in West Point that he’d slept in a place where he could breathe easy.

“I’m not interested in all the reasons I can’t court Evelyn. I only want to know how I
can
.”

Romulus glanced at him. “You might start by not wearing
that awful uniform all the time. It’s a constant reminder of the sad fate that awaits you after graduation.”

“You mean work? Actual work for which I will be duly compensated?”

Romulus flicked the reins and eased the cart back onto the street. “Work.” He sighed. “Such an unfortunate concept. Yes, I mean work in the army, which will ship you off to Timbuktu or wherever they need engineers. Given General White’s position, Evelyn has had a front-row seat for what awaits an army engineer. So that uniform is a constant reminder.”

Clyde looked away. He wore his uniform all the time because he didn’t have any other clothes. His roommate his plebe year had been so appalled at the grubby clothes Clyde had arrived in that they’d held a bonfire to send the threadbare clothes to their eternal rest. He loved wearing all the various pieces of his uniform because they were well-made and tailored in a way that made him look like a man of consequence.

“Evelyn also likes gifts,” Romulus said. “She was overlooked as a child. People never remembered her birthday and at Christmas she only got a token gift. It doesn’t have to be much. Any simple gesture means a lot to her.”

They rode along in silence. Clyde had a little spare money from working odd jobs over the summers, but most of that was funneled to Smitty to help cover expenses, but he’d think of some way to get a gift or two—or ten—for Evelyn.

“Next week we’ll be closing up the house before I go back to Harvard. I’m supposed to drive Evelyn and her belongings to our Aunt Bess’s farmhouse, where Evelyn will stay until Christmas. I suppose I could default on my promise if you’d like to drive her instead.”

“Oh, twist my arm,” Clyde said with relish. He’d had plenty of time with Evelyn over the summer, but Romulus had usually been just a few yards away.

As much as he mourned the end of this magical summer, it was time to start courting Evelyn in earnest.

Clyde borrowed a set of civilian clothes from Smitty. If the sight of a cadet’s uniform kept Evelyn at arm’s length, he wouldn’t wear one. Smitty’s clothes were humble, but at least they didn’t have patches on the knees.

Smitty had immediately suspected the reason Clyde wanted to borrow the clothes. “Be sure to go into that fancy washroom you installed for me and give yourself a nice clean shave before you go call on that girl . . . the general’s daughter.”

“I’m not calling on her. I’m just helping her move to her aunt’s house.” Was his infatuation for Evelyn so obvious? But he was grateful for the advice, because it hadn’t occurred to him to shave again.

He was also grateful Romulus had carried through on his promise to become unavailable to drive Evelyn. Today would mark the end of the best summer of his life, but perhaps it would be a turning point into something better between him and Evelyn. He’d also taken Romulus’s advice about a gift. It was a modest present, but still one he couldn’t afford and had bartered with a day of labor at the curio shop in exchange for the gift. He’d carefully wrapped it in tissue paper and set it in a wooden box at the back of the cart so it wouldn’t get crushed.

The borrowed clothes were ill-fitting and felt strange as he mounted the steps of General White’s home. Evelyn answered the door promptly after he rang the bell.

“Clyde! I almost didn’t recognize you in your civvies.”

He felt heat gathering in his cheeks. “I didn’t want to mess up my uniform in case there is heavy lifting.”

“But it’s only a few satchels of clothes, nothing like the mucking about we did in the greenhouse all summer.”

Mercifully, she didn’t press the point. She merely held the door wide and beckoned him inside. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you’re helping me out. It’s strange for Romulus to abandon me like this, but I gather a rare meadowlark has been spotted east of town, and he is keen to go see if he can find it.” She slanted him a humorous gaze and lowered her voice. “Personally, I think he’s merely lazy and using it as an excuse to slough off work.”

“Romulus isn’t lazy, but let’s go.” In short order, he had her bags loaded into the back of the cart. On the entire drive across town, he was too tongue-tied to broach the subject that had been burning inside him all summer. All too soon he was pulling the cart up before a white farmhouse on the outskirts of town, a covered porch stretching across the front of the first story.

“Well, here we are,” Clyde said, pulling on the brake and preparing to spring off the seat, but Evelyn hadn’t moved. She was staring into the distance, where a line of sycamore trees abutted a field of barley, the golden fronds swaying gently in the breeze.

“The barley is almost ready to be harvested,” she said. He had never heard such despondency in her voice. “I guess summer really is over.”

“I wish it weren’t.” In the past, Clyde had always been anxious to get back to school and the joy of delving into the world of knowledge, but this year was different. If he could, he would live in this summer forever.

But there was no help for it. He lugged her bags up the wooden steps and onto the porch, setting them down with a hollow thud. Evelyn knocked, but no one answered the door. They stood awkwardly on the porch, and he could sense her misery, waiting to be admitted to a house where she would once again be a seasonal, mildly unwelcome burden.

A middle-aged woman with the tightest bun Clyde had ever
seen finally answered after Evelyn’s third knock. “Oh, Evelyn,” she said in a sleepy voice. “I didn’t realize you’d be here so early. I was sleeping. Well, come in. You know where Josie’s old room is. I should go check on the pickles. It’s canning day.”

And that was the extent of the welcome Evelyn received. Clyde carried the bags down the first-floor hallway to the room where Evelyn would be staying. Their footsteps echoed on the hardwood floors in the eerily quiet house.

“Is she the only person who lives here?” he whispered, wondering if his voice carried.

“For now. Her daughters are both married, and her husband is in Texas. There is an army post there.”

It seemed such a desolate place to leave someone as vibrant and curious as Evelyn. There were a few other houses several acres away, but here there was only a disinterested woman and a field of barley to keep Evelyn company. And even the barley would be gone soon.

“Come on,” he urged, “let’s go for a walk. I’ve brought you a present.”

Given the way her face lit up, Romulus had been right about her love of gifts. It seemed Aunt Bess wouldn’t be much of a chaperone, for she barely glanced up from her vat of pickles when Evelyn asked permission.

Evelyn clasped her hands as Clyde lifted something wrapped in tissue paper from the box in the back of the wagon. It was no larger than a baseball and barely weighed anything. She loved presents. It was embarrassing and silly to be so thrilled with this unexpected gift, but she wanted to savor this moment.

“Be careful,” he said as he placed the tissue-wrapped gift in her hands. “It’s breakable.”

“What is it?” she asked.

“Open it and find out.”

She wanted to draw this out as long as possible. Leaning against the side of the cart, she cradled the present gently and then, with exquisite care, peeled back the first layer of tissue paper, trying to guess what could possibly be so light. She sniffed it. No smell, so it couldn’t be food. Only after peeling back several layers of plain white tissue paper did she see a flash of purple inside. She caught her breath. In her palm was a hand-blown piece of purple glass, shaped into a tiny hummingbird.

“It’s just a little something to help you remember this summer,” Clyde mumbled. “You can hang it on a Christmas tree. Or set it on a window ledge.”