Two Weeks in August (14 page)

Nina was delighted to find someone new who worked with her grandfather. The man, who she soon discovered was named Cyrus Leppard, entertained her with tales of the sea and of her grandfather when he was a young man.

As the sun’s rays lengthened along the grass of the park, Cyrus brought Nina over to a group of retired locals gathered there at the fair, all of whom had been peers of her grandfather and who further entertained her with her grandfather’s exploits.

One story, obviously a favorite, concerned the storm of 1944 when Tom had been a young hand on another’s fishing boat.

“I remember it like yesterday,” Cyrus began. “We’d gone out for a load of bluegill for Handy Thomas…”

“You all remember Handy’s restaurant, there on Pikes Street?” Sheltie Pierce asked, removing his cigarette from his mouth and gesturing east with it.

A communal nod and murmur sounded and Nina smiled. The restaurant was way before her time but she remembered Sheltie. Her grandfather had taken her with him often to Sheltie’s small camper on Little Oyster to pick up fresh shrimp or a late summer alewife for dinner.

“Wadn’t he wiped out by Connie in fifty-five?” a grizzled man asked. He had a neck that resembled folded leather.

“Yep, ta one. So even though it was nigh on to fall, Handy had a hankerin’ to run a special on bluegill. So out we goes, a five-man crew…”

“Three sheets to the wind, as was the way,” offered another old salt as he removed his cap and scratched his balding head.

The others laughed as Nina tried to place the phrase. One sailor noted her confusion and mimed drinking from a bottle. Nina blushed and chuckled.

“Well, it had turned a might chill,” Cyrus muttered in the crew’s defense before continuing. “Back then, they never said naught about the blows coming up the seaboard, so we goes out all happy on Jackson Reed’s fishing scow and some was playing gin in the hold, never noting the storm skies at all. Then lookout calls and we rush up and ta squall’s on us…”

“Thirty-foot swells reach up before we knowed,” commented Sheltie, “and we all falls back and are swimmin’ aboard…”

“That we were,” agreed Cyrus with an expansive nod. “So young Tom’s hanging on to the mains’l, feet to the wind and up comes the man boat, damn near slams him, and who’s hidin’ under it but Charlie Gaynes and his gullfriend, Tabitha.”

The men laughed as one as Cyrus continued.“So Tabby grabs onto Tom’s legs and she’s crawlin’ up him as Charlie hangs on to the boat for all he’s worth.”

“So we got Tom and Tabby on the mains’l, Charlie on the rowboat holdin’ by one line. We got Cy and Jimmy over there port and starboard, and me and Jackson aft, all hangin’ on for dear life,” added Sheltie.

“And the wind, she blowed,” continued Cyrus. “When she died a bit, we took stock and Tom, ever ta gennelman, set Tabby down easy and helped Charlie secure the second line on the man boat. Just as they finished, here she comes again, right over the deck. So’s we all grab aholt again and the boat, she be spinnin’ around. I look over and Tabby’s got the mains’l now with Tom and Charlie a hangin’ offa her.”

“And next we know, off comes ta gull’s skirt, bloomers and all. Tom flies with ’em but nabs the riggin’ and Charlie fetches up against ta rail, ta gull’s bloomers in his hand,” Sheltie slapped his thigh and led the appreciative laughter.

Gasping with merriment, Cyrus continued, “There she is, flyin’ from the mains’l like a pirate’s pennant, white nether cheeks shining through the dark.” He snorted with laughter, waving his hands as if drawing the image. “Tom sees what’s happened and he’s fightin’ the wind to get to Tabby but it’s hard goin.’ He hand-over-hands the riggin,’ makin’ his way to the mains’l. He somehow pulls her down and they crawl on they’s bellies to the hold and spill over in with the waterfall.”

“An’ we never let him forget the day,” added Sheltie. “We rode out the storm, all lookin’ like drowned rats when ta’s over. Took us a week to bail out the hold but ever’ time we worked it we had to laugh at Tom and that pretty white bottom spillin’ over in.”

“Poor Tabby,” Cyrus said, chuckling. “She was never able ta look straight on at any of us after that.”

Laughing, Sheltie, motioned with one hand. “The boat, tell ’bout ta boat.”

Cyrus laughed and mopped at his eyes with both gnarled hands. “Jackson christen’d the boat again after ta re-work. Made Tom do it with a bottle of elderberry wine. He called it…called it…the
Broken Moon
.”

Nina laughed along with the rest of them even as another tale was begun. By late afternoon, when she helped Cyrus load his truck for home and waved a farewell, Nina felt as though she knew her grandfather as she never had before.

After popping back into the store to purchase bottled iced tea, Nina drove toward Channel Haven, her mind relaxed and filled with fondness, lingering on her grandfather’s life.

Chapter 18

The familiar blue truck parked in front of her cottage door wiped away the mists of the past. As she parked her car next to it, she was able to see the driver. Mander.

Groaning inwardly, she looped her plastic grocery bags over her arm and rose clumsily from the car.

Mander shouted a cheery hello from the open truck window. “I thought you might like a little company tonight,” she called. “See? I brought wine.” She held up a dark green bottle and wagged it back and forth.

Nina was disarmed by her enthusiasm and smiled.

Taking this as encouragement, Mander leapt from the vehicle and waited with an anxious air in front of the cottage door. She appeared to be fresh from the shower, her hair still damp, and she wore a Hawaiian-styled shirt and denim shorts.

Nina sighed with something akin to vexation but nevertheless moved to the door and ushered her in.

As Nina put away her purchases, Mander roamed the small cottage, criticizing the poor construction points which had totally escaped Nina’s notice. She had thought the small house charming and so her reply was caustic.

“I suppose you’ll just have to offer your services to Ms. Duncan so some measure of perfection can be obtained.”

Mander’s puzzled frown quickly faded and she answered, “You’re right, I should. Old man Leppard and his cronies had a part in building this place and none of them have a reputation for framing a house plumb.”

Nina busied herself folding the cumbersome grocery bags so the other woman couldn’t see her annoyance. Was she talking about the kind woodcarver she’d met earlier that day? She hoped not, for she had no wish to argue that point with Mander. In fact, she was beginning to heartily wish she’d just go home and leave her to the peace of the ocean.

The ocean. Perhaps she could divert Mander as well as herself.

“Mander,” she said, turning from the cabinets. “Why don’t you and I go and sit on the dock. We could relax and talk out there.”

Mander was opening the wine. Fetching two glasses from the cupboard, she replied, “Oh no, let’s stay inside. The wind is up and I’d much rather be cozy in here with you.” She moved close and handed her a full glass of rose-colored wine. “Let’s sit here on the sofa and talk a little.”

Mander proceeded to take a seat in the center of the sofa and took a long swallow of the wine.

Nina could not tolerate sitting so close. Stalling, she tasted the wine, then crossed to the door and looked out across the channel. The lighthouse had just come to life and was winking cheerily at her from the other island.

It made her feel unaccountably sad, a deep sense of loneliness washing over her. She sighed. Maybe she was simply feeling sorry for herself because of Rhonda’s poor treatment of her.

With a start, she realized Mander had been talking for some time.

“...and I really would like to see us develop a close relationship. I’m sure it would be satisfying to both of us.”

“Who?” interjected Nina with some alarm.

“Why us, you and me,” Mander answered, looking at her in momentary confusion. “Look.” She raised her hands, palms toward Nina, the glass of wine held precariously between thumb and forefinger of her right hand. “I know what you said the other day, about not wanting this, but once you get used to me and to living here on the island, you’ll be fine. Why don’t you let me help you get over Tom’s death and this bad relationship you’ve had? I can make you happy, you know I can.”

Nina was touched as well as bothered by her speech and still couldn’t bring herself to sit next to her.

She turned her attention back to the light and spoke slowly, thoughtfully.

“It’s not a matter of making me happy, Mander. I am happy, basically. I do hope to settle down someday but right now I’m being cautious. I’ve been hurt…”

“Well, so have I,” Mander interrupted quickly. “Most people have. You’ve just got to get over it and go on with your life. Being alone is not the answer.”

“That’s not always so,” Nina protested hotly, “sometimes being alone can be a much-needed time of healing. And that healing is what I feel I need right now.”

Mander said, “I really feel you need someone you can be with to help you over the bad times. I’ve given this a lot of thought and I’m sure I’m right.”

Nina was angered and her voice was clenched as she answered. “Who are you to know what I want, Amanda Sheridan? I am Nina, not Mander, and I feel what Nina feels, not what Mander feels. Surely you have enough intelligence to realize that?”

If Mander was taken aback by her tone it was not for long. She crossed the room to her. “Come on, Nina, just give it a try. You’ll see I’m right.” She wrapped an arm about her shoulders. Nina immediately moved away. “Just stay away from me, Mander. I’ve asked you nicely not to push me. I need time. Any hope of our having some type of friendly relationship depends on you respecting my wishes.”

“But Nina,” she pleaded, moving slowly toward her. “Let’s just hang out together, get closer, give it a try.”

“Mander.” Nina
’
s voice was cool steel and had a deadly ring. “If you come any closer, you’ll get this glass of wine full in the face. I am not kidding.”

Mander paused and eyed the upraised glass uncertainly.

A firm knock at the screen door broke the tension.
 
Nina moved to the door.

Hazy stood just outside, hands in the pockets of her denim shorts and her head and neck tucked down into her open collar like an apologetic child.

“Hello Hazy,” Nina said gratefully. “What can I do for you?”

“Need to check that stem so I can order the right knob from the mainland is all,” she told her, squinting up from her position at the bottom of the steps.