Clary stared down at her hands. “She’s unlike anyone I’ve known. Did she declare a college major?”
Beverly shook her head. “That’s not Leefe’s style. I don’t think she cares about degrees. She simply loves to learn and, like you said, she’s an expert listener. Have you seen her silver work?”
“No, but I might tonight. We’re going out on Uncle Joe’s boat.”
“She’s a true artist.” Beverly pointed at a delicate silver unicorn paperweight on her desk. “She did that for me because unicorns have always fascinated me.” She picked it up and smiled. “You’ve made your feelings clear, but you’re questioning yourself. That’s not like you.”
Clary looked away. “As you might guess, Robin stomped all over my self-confidence and trust, and Jesse’s hell-bent on keeping me away from Leefe. I guess I need clarification. Did you know that Leefe and Sharon were friends?”
“Yes.” Beverly sighed. “While you were out of the country years ago, they all went through a hard time. I know some of it, but it’s Jesse and Maureen’s story, not mine. If Jesse won’t talk to you, talk to your aunt.” Beverly shifted forward, her body tense. “Sometimes Jesse’s control issues and aggression drives me crazy. She’s been after Leefe since Maureen took her in, but somehow Leefe’s found a way to work with her. I’m not sure I could.”
Clary stared out the window at the rain. “Jesse actually said that Leefe’s not worth my time, and that Sharon wouldn’t have wiped her feet on her.” Clary shrugged. “It makes me stubborn.”
“It’s good to be stubborn, sometimes. Leefe’s a wonderful success story. She may not be sophisticated, and had to learn the basics on her own, but she’s one of a kind. By basics, I mean how to mingle in groups, or what clothes to wear. Have you ever noticed the snobbery that goes on in this town?”
Clary only nodded. There it was again, the South Port attitude. When you live in a community it’s hard to see attitudes, unless you oppose them, or leave and come back. “Jesse won’t change my mind, but I’ve never seen her as arrogant as last night.” She got up to leave. “Thanks for the time. Mom and Dad will be here with Maureen and Joe before they go back to Arizona. Let’s get together for a meal.”
“I’d like that.” Beverly nodded and turned to her computer. “Speaking of your parents and this town’s attitude, do you remember the two guest columns your father would write for the paper, once a year? The first one he ever wrote was ‘Civility Sneaking out the Back Door,’ followed by ‘Under an Avalanche of Indifference.’ He’d make fun of South Port, the state, or the government in general, ridiculing just about everyone. He started it because of what we just talked about.” She hit a few keys. “Yes, here’s the folder. I saved every one.”
“Would you e-mail that file to me?” Clary said with a smile. That writing had been the cause of more than one argument in high school.
“Clary, don’t forget that Jesse’s normally a hard-working woman and values you highly.”
“I know, but I’ve never had to deal with this side of her. I’d like my friend back.” Clary reached for her umbrella. “I’ve talked with Piper too.”
“Piper and I talk. That’s how I keep up with Jesse,” Beverly said. Her face relaxed into a smile, and she held up the latte. “Thanks for this.”
*
The day cleared off and the temperature heated up. Clary changed into a thin T-shirt and much-worn shorts, settling down in Aunt Mo’s office to check her e-mail.
There was nothing in her inbox and she typed a one-word e-mail to her friend Marley at school. “News?” and sent it. What would she do if things in Iowa went to hell? Her job was secure, but did she even want it? For the first time in her career, she didn’t know.
She picked up her iPad. The stats on homeless children were brutal. An increase of almost forty-five percent since 2006. No wonder Piper was so enthusiastic about the summer program, but how did teachers deal with this? And infants and toddlers weren’t even part of these figures.
She stacked her notes from the Kozol book in a neat pile. If she believed him, homeless kids had an almost impossible life ahead of them, but there were some success stories, and what Beverly had said about Leefe was encouraging. Why had it worked for her, but not others? Maybe Leefe would read Kozel’s book for another opinion, and then had another thought.
Beverly was right about Leefe. She didn’t flirt or try to charm a single person. She wouldn’t be rude. She’d simply go quiet. Like most people, Leefe’s social clues were visual. A person’s face and expressions, mannerisms, maybe clothes, made Leefe watchful, but her quick mind meant words might be more important. However, she’d bet anything the subtext of the person or situation could elude her. That’s where Leefe would struggle.
Leefe was the physical opposite of most of the women in her life, and so sexy Clary could barely stand it. In fact, holding her made her light-headed, not to mention the kisses, and she felt a sudden rush of desire that had been absent forever.
Idly, she picked up her phone just as it came alive with Norah Jones’s music, “Come Away with Me” and almost dropped it. She’d put this song on the first night on the beach with Leefe. She liked the song…and Leefe. Smiling, she answered.
“Was I supposed to call you?” Leefe said. “I’m getting ready to fix dinner. The kids are setting the table. Have you eaten?”
“Nope.” Clary stood and stretched. “What’s on the menu tonight?”
“Tacos and salad. Eat with us, and then we’ll go out on your boat.”
“What can I bring?”
“Sour cream. I just discovered that I don’t have any.”
Clary laughed. “Ha, devious woman. You need someone to go to the store.”
After a second of silence, Leefe laughed too. “I’ve had my moments, but not tonight.”
“How’s Devi doing?”
“Better than I expected, but her eye still looks sore.”
“Okay, I’ll change and be right over with the sour cream.” Clary closed her laptop and sprinted up the stairs. “Yum. Tacos.”
She tossed her T-shirt and shorts on the bed and found a clean tank top. Looking for her old tan fishing shorts, she noticed Hannah’s drawing on the dresser underneath Leefe’s little fox. A longing fell though her, and she wished she could have Hannah here, just for a meal of tacos and some time on the lake. Hannah would love the day care and the kids. Clary could almost see her, laughing with them, her eyes sparkling like they always did.
“Damn,” she said. She found the shorts and tried to think of something else.
Chapter Eighteen
“Those were great tacos.” Clary parked in front of Leefe’s house at the lake after dinner. “Want me to wait?”
“Why would you do that?” Leefe said, reaching for Clary’s hand. “I hope you’ll be here, a lot. Wander around while I shower and change into something clean.”
The touch of Leefe’s hand made Clary smile as she followed her inside. She’d itched to see this place since she was a kid.
The house was far different than she’d imagined. There were more rooms and they were small, but she smelled lavender. The maple floors shone like honey. She’d bet they were original like the sturdy, thick plaster walls. She knew the house had been built in the early forties, but had been well taken care of. People had loved it. The kitchen was the biggest room with a nice little laundry room off to the side, and she walked into what was probably the living room. The beach-side windows were nautical, round and large. There were framed sketches on the walls, mostly boats and water, and she wondered if Leefe had done them. They were dated but unsigned. The rooms were neat and clean with green plants on window sills, and several large plants in colorful pots on the floor.
One entire wall in the next room was a bookshelf. The authors ranged from Jane Austin to Ann Patchett, classics to current fiction. Textbooks took up the entire bottom shelf. Clary spotted a well-worn copy of To Kill a Mocking Bird, next to all of Toni Morrison’s books. She
stood, caught in the scope of the titles. This was a well-read woman.
Throughout her life, her family and friends had given her books, but there’d been no one for Leefe. She studied the wall. Maybe Leefe’s teachers or Beverly had helped, or South Port’s great public library. Suddenly, she was mad at Jesse all over again, spewing all that crap about the homeless, as if Leefe wasn’t able to think. Surely Jesse had been in here too.
The only furniture in the room was a floor lamp, an end table, and a plush red chair that looked very comfortable. An open sewing kit sat on the end table with colorful spools of thread and needles, neatly arranged. Clary smiled at the next discovery. Fragrant stalks of lavender filled a straw basket on the floor beside the reading chair.
“Leefe,” she called out. “Where did you find lavender in South Port?”
“The owners of the silver shop down on Sixth Street give it to me. Makes the house smell clean.” Barefoot, Leefe walked through the room, a towel over her shoulder. The gray cargo shorts and navy blue T-shirt made her a bit shadowy, and Clary liked the damp, shaggy hair curling around her face.
“It smells wonderful. Do you sew?”
“No, I mend. I buy everything at the thrift shop.” She held out the pink shirt she’d taken off and laid her finger on two small patched areas. If Leefe hadn’t shown her, Clary would never have noticed. She followed Leefe into the next room.
“That’s your bed?” Clary gave the hammock behind Leefe a swing. “And look at your jewelry.” Clary bent over the desk and workbench, strewn with silver items and sketches. It was the only untidy place in the house.
“See anything you like?” Leefe said, holding a leather running shoe in one hand.
“Everything.” Clary held a silver lily with a few blades of grass, about the size of a quarter, on a delicate silver chain. “This is exquisite.” Leefe was a gifted artist.
“That’s for Piper’s birthday. See the sketch next to it?”
Clary studied the paper. “My students always laugh when I have to draw something for them. I excel at stick figures.” She grinned at Leefe. “Piper will love this.”
Leefe looked up. “Do you think Jesse will still want it, now that she’s mad at us?”
“Give her time,” Clary said, but bit her lip.
“I feel as if I’ve come between you.” Leefe bent over her shoe, face hidden.
“It’d take a lot more than an argument. We’ve always gone at each other like chainsaws.” Although never as angry as last night, she thought.
Leefe tossed clothes in a hamper and turned on a beautiful copper light with etched glass inserts hanging above the desk. There was an open notebook on the far side of the desk with a column of words scrolling down the page. Clary bent to see the last word. Hardwired.
“What’s this, all these words?” Clary held up the notebook
“That’s the word you said to me. Hardwired. When I hear or read an unfamiliar word, I write it down and then look it up in the dictionary. I love learning words.”
Clary stared at the notebook. What were the chances of this? “I do too,” she said.
“Well, yes, you’re an English teacher.”
“That’s me. Yoda, Grand Master of the Jedi.”
Leefe frowned up at her. “What’s a…Yoda?”
“The old Star Wars thing, you know.”
“No. Was it a book?”
Clary shook her head. “It was a lot of things, including a film. I’ll find it and we’ll watch it at the day care. The kids would really like it.”
“Do you have another word for me, a favorite?”
“I do, but you have to come up with one you really like. Deal?”
“Write it down.”
Clary wrote “alchemy” on the page under “hardwired” and handed the notebook to Leefe.
“Alchemy,” Leefe said out loud. “Let’s see, the alchemist, the medieval guy that changes metal into gold, right?”
“Right, but it’s also transforming something common into something special.”
“I like that. Give me another.”
“Nope, not until you give me one.”
“You’re not easy, are you?” Leefe said as she locked her door.
“Not by a long shot.” Clary grinned. “Tell me about your art class.”
“It’s a free community class that I teach in the summers. It’s simple. All you have to do is sit on the platform in the middle of the room, about twenty, thirty minutes. You’ll be their first live model so it’ll be new for them too. Would you wear the shirt you had on yesterday and those olive shorts you were wearing the first day you came to the hospital?”
“The shorts are clean, but I’ll have to wash the shirt. Okay, I’ll give you and Devi a ride to see Beverly. Maybe go out for burgers afterward, and drop Devi off before we go to class?”
“Can’t do the burgers. Remember what I said about summertime and the kids? I’m responsible for the day care meals.”
*
Clary wiped sweat off her face as they loaded gear into the boat. The heavy, warm air was suffocating, but the motor turned over like a charm. She did too, every time she looked at Leefe. She was such a distraction that she congratulated herself for remembering the bait.
“Ready?”
“I’m here,” Leefe said, pulling up her T-shirt to dry her face, revealing a lean stomach. Clary swallowed hard.
“What about Devi? She was awfully quiet at dinner.”
“What she saw with her parents is going to stay with her for a long time. Hopefully, Beverly will be able to help.” Leefe took a breath. “Were you stiff today?” She pointed at Clary’s scraped knees.
“A little,” Clary said, and looked over her shoulder at Leefe. “Parts of yesterday were outstanding.”
Leefe briefly held her gaze and then looked away with a shy smile. “It’s Albie’s turn to stay nights and she’s with Jacob and Devi tonight. Her boyfriend’s in Chicago, so she’ll finish the book she’s reading. Devi’s fine with her, but says I tell better stories.”
“Do you and Albie trade books? You have a lot,” Clary said, navigating the river that led to the lake.
“We do trade books, but I’ll never have enough. They saved my life.”
“Me too, and that reminds me. I have a book in the car about homeless kids. Would you read it and give me another opinion?” Clary said.
“I’ve only read data, stats, that kind of thing.” Leefe looked at her. “I saw a book in Maureen’s office by your laptop. Is that the book?”
“That’s it. That man’s won awards for his work.” Clary passed the Coast Guard headquarters, heading for the breakwater. “Come here, beside me, and bring the life jackets.”
Leefe moved into the seat beside Clary and handed her the orange jacket.
“I haven’t done this in years so, if I’m quiet, it’s just me running through the rules.” Clary pulled on the vest.
“Are there many rules?”
“Enough and I’m careful. A hot day means lots of boats.”
“Careful is different from following the rules. Do you follow the rules?”
“Not in this lifetime, but I like honesty.”
Rosy air settled around them. Clary tied her tank top below her bra so the wind and splash hit her bare belly under the life jacket. She passed the breakwater and felt the lake push against the boat, something she’d been waiting for, and increased the speed. Leefe was looking backward, watching the receding shore.
“Comfortable?” Clary dropped her hand onto the slender shoulder.
“I haven’t been out here enough to trust all this water. It’s bumpy.”
Clary settled down in the seat and revved the motor to mid-range. “It’s the speed. A little faster or slower and you don’t feel the chop, the waves. It’s like a car on a gravel road.”
“I don’t drive so I don’t know about that.”
Clary had never known anyone that couldn’t swim, fish, or drive. Maybe one of the three, but not a
ll of them. “At certain speeds, the boat will sort of ‘fight’ the water. Watch. We’ll go a little faster.” The wind was quiet so the chop was light, and the ride smoothed out. Clary checked the shore and headed southward. “I need to open it up, give it a run. Most of the boats are north of us so it’s a good time to let it go for a few minutes. We’ll anchor in front of the jetties and your house.” She felt the boat top the waves without missing a stroke. Finally satisfied that everything was as it should be, she turned back toward the jetties.
“Whew. Fast, but fun,” Leefe said, brushing her hair back and wiping spray off her face.
“In a big lake boat like Zip’s, you easily go this fast but don’t feel it.” Clary slowed, avoided backwash, and settled east of the jetties. “See your house? Then, look up the beach. There’s Mojo’s, Aunt Maureen’s house, and my house. Well, Piper and Jesse’s house now.”
Leefe braced herself with a knee on the seat and shaded her eyes with her hand. “It’s beautiful, and all this space and freedom. No wonder you like to be out here.” The boat rocked, but Leefe stood easily, balanced with the movement.
“I want a photo or two.” Clary held up her phone, practically seizing at the sight of Leefe in front of her, feeling the ghost of last night’s kisses.
“Me too.” Leefe pulled out her own phone and took photos, south to north. When she turned, the peach dusk glanced off her cheeks, and her eyes were bright.
Clary took a photo of Leefe, then another and another, only to prove they’d been here, together. Completely smitten, she had to look away, and reached for the cooler. “Want some water…or a beer? I like those shorts, by the way. Nice fit.”
“Thanks. I’ll take water, and I love your smile. I’ll get the poles.” She moved nimbly to the back. “You’re going to have to show me from the beginning.”
She loves my smile? Incredibly pleased, Clary set the anchor and moved to the minnow bucket. She’d rigged the line earlier so they could just bait the hook and drop the line over the side. “All right, watch.” She held up the hook and impaled an active minnow on it.
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