That Camden Summer (21 page)

"I'm sorry ... I He couldn't finish. Everything was going white and distant. "Spread your knees and put your head down."

She put her hand on the back of his head and forced it down, her hand remaining on his thick sandy hair and the coarse-grained skin of his

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neck. It felt cool and clammy. She stroked it once, twice. "Better now?"

He nodded silently, his head still hanging. She could see he wasn't.

"I'll get a cool cloth. Stay there."

He was still curled over hke a vulture when she returned with the cloth. "Here ... put this on your face. It'll help."

He took it in both palms and buried his face in it, bracing on his splayed knees.

"Take big, deep breaths," she said. "It'll pass."

While he followed orders she watched the rise and fall of his shoulder blades inside a tightly stretched red plaid shirt. She did what she would have done for any woozy child in school, put her hand there and lightly rubbed, making small, comforting circles on Gabriel Farley's muscular back.

Slowly Gabriel's light-headedness faded and he became aware of her rhythmic stroking. It had been a long, long time since any human being had comforted him in any way. Human affection had been snuffed out of his life with Caroline's death. His muzziness disappeared but he remained doubled forward, enjoying the feel of her gentle distraction, rocking slightly with each circle as her fingertips rode the valley between his shoulder blades. It was late afternoon, the sun streaming in the window and the call of gulls wafting in from outside. He'd spent some nice hours with her here inside her kitchen, where things were familiar. Outside somebody was mowing a lawn, the sound

scissored through the house along with the green scent of clipped grass. And being touched, soothed was something he hadn't realized he'd missed.

"That feels good," he mumbled into the cloth.

So she rubbed him some more, watching him rock on the chair, so relaxed he'd given up all form of resistance.

After a while she bent forward at the waist to peer at his right ear and jaw. "You're not falling asleep, are you, Gabriel?"

"Hmm.11 "Feel better now?" "Mm-hmm." As her hand slid away from his shoulder he

lifted his head. His face was damp from the cloth, hair pushed up and darker above his forehead where it, too, had gotten damp. His eyes were unguarded and steady on her. When he handed her the cloth his fingers closed over her hand and pulled.

"Gabriel, I don't think

"Don't say anything," he said, and toppled her onto his lap.

"Stop it, Gabriel." "You mean that?"

"Yes. I'm not starting anything with you." "I'm not starting anything with you either. I've just been thinking about kissing you, that's all. I got the idea you'd been thinking about it too."

"It's a stupid idea."

"You talk too much, you know that?"

When he kissed her she stopped resisting. His skin was cool-I still damp, rough around his lips from the day's growth of whiskers. His tongue was warm and the slightest bit timid. She had fallen with one arm folded against his chest, the other free to roam. It did nothing of the sort but lay against his shirtfront inertly while at her back he still held the damp cloth. But he took his time, and grew surprisingly facile as the seconds stretched on. She opened her eyes once to see if his were closed. They were, and the glimpse of his eyelashes at close range brought an unbidden skitter along her limbs. It had been years since she'd kissed a man - the slobbering pleas of her husband had grown unpalatable years before their divorce - and she certainly wasn't going to let herself be unduly swayed by the first, thus becoming what all divorcees were rumored to be. So she let him do the work and remained merely amenable. By the time she sat up the wet cloth had wilted a circle of starch on the back of her white apron.

She rose from his lap in full control of her emotions and stood with her back to him. "This is a very bad idea," she said.

"I told myself the same thing."

"It was just that poem yesterday and all that claptrap about bows and cords."

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"Wouldn't that party line burn up if anybody in this town found out what we just did?" "Well, I'm not going to tell them. " He sat

up straighter as if his head had finally cleared. "I've got more sense than that."

"No, of course not." She took several steps and found something to keep her hands busy: some greasy knives the girls had left leaning on the butter dish. "The girls will be home soon. Maybe you'd better go."

"Sure," he said, pushing up from the chair. "Are you all right now? Is the dizziness gone?"

"Fine. Sorry I was such a baby."

"You weren't a baby. That just happens to some people."

"Well, thanks for the shot ... I think.

At last she turned to face him. He would not have guessed he'd just kissed her from the businesslike way she dealt with him. "Did you finish everything here? I mean, your work is all done?"

"All done. Like I said, I won't be bothering you anymore. "

She didn't know whether to walk him to the door or stay where she was. In the end she stayed and he left without another word.

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T his house evenings were lonelier for Gabe. Isobel spent every spare minute

Aat the Jewetts'. He was of two minds regarding her desertion: On the one hand he didn't blame her for hanging around that place, with all its cheerful activity; on the other, he felt abandoned., for this was still her home, he was still her father, and she had responsibilities here. She cared about them less and less. The housework and any cooking was left to him. His mother - stubborn to a fault - had been as good as her word and refused to refill his cookie jar or come over to change the sheets. Naturally, she had stopped bringing leftovers, too.

One night during the week following his last encounter with Roberta, he had made a kettle of oyster stew for supper and was waiting for Isobel when the telephone rang. Two shorts and a long, that was his ring.

He went to the wooden box and lifted the earpiece from the prongs. "Hello?"

"Hello, Mr. Farley? This is Susan Jewett. We just got our new telephone!"

"You did? Well now., isn't that exciting." "Mother said we could each make one call, and I said I wanted to call you because I was wondering if it would be okay if Isobel stays with us for supper."

He thought, W1at are you having? Maybe

IT come, too. He said, "Isobel's over there an awful lot."

"Oh, but we love having her! Don't we, Mother?" In the background he could hear the piano playing and pictured Roberta at the keyboard while the girls overran the house. Susan said, "Mother says of course we do, so please, Mr. Farley? Can she stay?"

"She probably has homework."

"But it's Friday night and school is almost over and the teachers are hardly giving us any. Please, Mr. Farley? We're trying to talk Mother into a clambake because pretty soon the tide will be going out and it would be so fun!"

"I've already made supper for Isobel and me. 11

"But can't she stay anyway? Mother, he won't let her . . . " Susan's voice got whiny and trailed away as if she"d turned from the phone. cc * *. and I told him about the clambake and everything. "

The piano ceased and a moment later Roberta's voice came on. "Gabriel?"

"Oh! Roberta . . . hello."

"We really do want Isobel to stay. Do you mind?"

It's lonely here, he wanted to say, but of course could not. "She's there so much." "Because we enjoy her. The girls talked me

into a shore picnic. They want to dig some clams. "

"Well, in that case, I guess it'll be okay." "Good ... well ... thanks, Gabriel."

He hurried on to keep her from hanging up

so soon. "I just don't want her to wear out her welcome."

"No, she won't. And don't worry about her coming home after dark. I'll drive her this time. "

"That's good of you-, Roberta."

"No trouble at all, since we'll be in the motorcar anyway. Well

Her pause brought a fresh sense of imminent desertion, and he scrabbled about for something to keep her on the line. "So, how'd everything go up in Northport this week?"

"Fine. I finished there and went on to Lincolnville."

"Have any fainters on your hands?"

"Oh, Gabriel ... you didn't faint. You just got a little lightheaded."

"Well, I felt like a gol-dang fool."

"Why? You were right. It is a big needle." A lull fell and he imagined her impatient to pack a hamper and get their outing under way. He knew he should release her, but only the silent house waited-, and his pathetic oyster stew, and he wanted to keep her on the line for some deeper reason that he was unwilling to recognize. "Listen, Roberta.,' He cleared his throat and polished the edge of the oak telephone box with a thumb. "About what happened that day. I know you weren't too pleased with me and I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pressed the issue. "

"It's okay, Gabriel. It's all forgotten."

"No. No, I could tell afterwards that you

were ... Well', you acted pretty distant and you couldn't wait to get rid of me. You didn't want to start anything in the first place and I should have let it go at that."

"Gabriel, the reason I didn't want to start anything is because of how this town has labeled me. I have to be more careful than most, and w.e both know that. So let's just forget it because it didn't amount to anything."

It didn't? Funny., but Gabe thought it had. Her remark left him feeling faintly emasculated. "Well, I've been thinking about it all week, and I just wanted to clear that up."

"Gabriel? May I ask you something?" "'Course."

"Isobel says your mother has stopped filling your cookie jar and coming over to help out with housework. Is that because of me?"

"Isobel said that?" "Yes-, she did."

"There's not much housework around here with just the two of us and both of us gone all day long. And now Isobel seems to stay at your place most days after school."

"You haven't answered my question3 Gabriel." He cleared his throat. "No3 it's not because of you. "

The line went quiet for several seconds while Gabriel suspected she figured out he was lying. Then she surprised him by askingi "Well, in that case, would you be interested in continuing this conversation on the beach? If you're all alone you might as well come and dig clams with the girls and me.,,

He forgot about rubbing the phone box with his thumb.

"Well, that sounds mighty tempting but, you sure about this?"

"It's been years since I've done a clambake and I could use a little help with these four rambunctious daughters of ours."

"I'd like that, Roberta. Give me a couple of minutes to change and I'll be right over."

He showed u in fifteen minutes, dressed in p

tan duck trousers, canvas shoes and a roomy Norfolk jacket. Crossing Roberta's familiar front yard, his step was animated and he was whistling. He bounded up the porch steps in two giant leaps and called through the open front door, "Anybody here?"

The racket inside was laughable: clattering kitchenware, slamming doors, girls' giddy voices and Roberta shouting orders.

"I forgot, I don't have a spade. Isobel, call your father and see if he'll bring a spadel And a clam rake, too!"

He walked right in and stopped in her kitchen doorway. "I have a spade and a clam rake and some bushel baskets in the truck, plus a box of wood scraps to build a fire. Nobody's got to call me. "

Roberta spun around and smiled brightly. "Oh, Gabriel, you're here!" She was back to the Roberta he first knew, the nurse's uniform gone, the hair falling from its tether, wearing her run-over black shoes and a sacklike dress of oversized blue-and-white squares with dollar-size white buttons down the front. The dress needed

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pressing, the shoes needed replacing and the hair needed tidying, but as he stood in the doorway observing the commotion he felt alive as he had not in days, being with her and the kids again.

"'lo, Roberta," he said, low-key. "That didn't take you long." "Nope."

"Daddy, hi! I can't believe you're really going with us! "

Isobel bombarded him and hugged his waist. He dropped his hands to her shoulders but Roberta saw he was out of his element with spontaneous affection.

"Mrs. Jewett invited me," he told Isobel. "Hope that's okay."

"Oh, this is going to be so much funl She says we can all dig clams."

"Thought you hated clams."

"Well, I do, but . . . " She released him and gave a sheepish one-shouldered shrug. "Gosh, I haven't had them since Mother was alive, and I've grown up a lot since then. I'll probably just love them! "

He glanced at Roberta, thinking this was going to be the best Friday night he'd had in years. Roberta got busy again, putting a clam knife

and salt and pepper shakers in the open hamper on the table. "Let's see ... butter and lemon and salt and pepper. Too early in the year for corn on the cob, but we've got some sweet potatoes. Rebecca, get plates-; Susan, get silverware- Isobel, some glasses, please; and Lydia, will you find a blanket, dear?"

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Gabe watched as his daughter moved with the others to follow orders. She knew right where to find glasses.

He moved to Roberta's shoulder and said under his breath 3"She certainly knows her way around your house.15

"That's the kind of house I run

much formality around here." -, Gabe. Not When the last items were packed into the hamper-, she closed the lid and he took it from her hands. "Here-, I'll carry that."

"We need a piece of canvas," she said. "I brought that."

"And some fresh water?" "Brought that, too."

"Hey," she teased-, "you're a good man to have around. How'd you round up all that stuff in fifteen minutes?"

"That's the kind of house I run," he said with a grin. "Everything in its place so it's easy to find. 11

"And you found time to change clothes-, too?"

"Ayup.11 She returned his grin. "Talk about a couple of opposites, we're them, aren't we-, Gabe?"

Opposites or not, they were both in glad moods as they herded the children outside like a regular family of six. Yes-, it was a simulated family, but they felt seduced by the wholesomeness of tramping off on a simple adventure that would fill an evening with togetherness. The four girls got along extremely well, as if Isobel truly were a half sister. Roberta