Duet in September (The Calendar Girls)

by Gina Ardito

  She flinched, which I guess, was the reaction I’d wanted. But I felt no gratification. Cracks began to form in my impenetrable wall. Nia and I had lost our dad, and who knew? Maybe the universe had seen fit to send our mother back to us in some sort of cosmic penance.

  What kind of ingrate tossed away such an amazing gift?

  A cautious one, my conscience suggested. Face it, what kind of woman turned her back on her children? A cold, selfish, unfit one.

  For now, I’d have to straddle the fence.

  “I came to Snug Harbor with my family,” Mom said. “We were camping at The Dunes.”

  The Dunes, on the south shore of town, had been a popular spot for RV enthusiasts for decades. Slots with the shortest walk to the beach were booked years in advance. Oftentimes, by the same family for generations.

  “Not because we were on vacation, mind you.” Mom’s tone took on a sharp edge. “We came to live there. Full time. In a tent. Hidden in the dunes, where we didn’t have to pay for reserving an actual campsite.” Shaking her head, she sighed. “You don’t know how lucky you were to have a father like Don. My father had trouble paying bills. Or keeping a steady job, for that matter. There was never enough money in our house. Forget about prom dresses. We didn’t always have a roof over our heads. This time, we did, but it was a canvas roof. At night, I’d sit out on the beach.” Her eyes glossed over as she spoke, and I assumed she lost herself in the memories. “There was this house set back in the bluffs I longed to visit. A big old Victorian with turrets and lots of scroll work on the gables, and a glow from a circular window beneath the highest peak.”

  I knew that house well. “Grandma’s house.”

  She nodded. “I would look at that house every night and swear one day, I’d live in a place just like it. In the meantime, however, I had more pressing problems. Like finding something to eat. Mom and Dad spent whatever cash they had on whiskey and cigarettes. Food was not a priority in my household. So I’d leave the beach and walk to the drive-thru on Main Street. Do you know the place? Is it still there?”

  “Parson’s.” I supplied the name of that formidable institution of burgerdom. “And yes, it’s still there.”

  “That’s the one.” She pointed an index finger at me. “The minute someone tossed their bag into the trash and drove off, I’d pull it out and rummage through for anything edible inside for me and my brother.”

  Talk about crazy clown car. The surprises kept on coming. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

  “Mmm-hmm. Charlie was three years younger than me. Some nights, I did pretty well in the Parson’s garbage. Other nights, we were reduced to eating discarded pickles and licking the onions off the paper wrappings.”

  She dropped her gaze from me to her skirt and plucked at the folds. “Anyway, this went on for a couple of weeks until one Friday night after Parson’s closed for the evening, a young man came out the back door with a takeout bag. He asked me if I knew anyone who could use some of the evening’s leftovers. Said he hated to throw it away, but since the food had already been cooked, he couldn’t save it for tomorrow. Of course, I took it, with the lame excuse about a poor family I knew camping at The Dunes. We both knew the truth, but he just nodded and told me to come back the next night and he’d give me another bag. I did, and he did. And when I came back the night after that, he gave me another bag. The next night, another. The whole summer passed with him providing me with burgers, fried chicken, hot dogs. Some nights, he’d meet me with the bag of food and an ice cream. No one had ever taken such good care of me.”

  A dreamy expression softened her face. “Every night, Don and I talked and got to know each other. He was different from the boys I’d met before. I mean, he had to know my circumstances, but he never let on. He didn’t tease me or look down on me. Then I found out he lived in that house. My dream house. I really believed it was a sign. He and I were meant to be together.”

  “Because of Grandma’s house?” Of all the dopey…

  Then again, I supposed it made as much sense as the thought the universe had brought us together, which in my book, was still debatable.

  “I was young. And very naïve.” She shrugged. “Anyway, my parents managed to hold onto the camping spot until November. That’s when someone found us. Silver-tongued Dad had made some kind of deal with the park rangers, which bought us a little time. If they let us stay, he’d help them patrol the area, to keep away any miscreants who intended to destroy property. Like I said, my dad wasn’t very good about jobs. A week before Thanksgiving, he got drunk one night, and a group of teens set fire to the men’s room. We were booted out the next morning. My time in Snug Harbor had come to an end. I don’t know why I did it, but when my parents told me we were leaving, I ran off. I wound up in the woods behind Don’s house. As soon as he heard I had to leave, he asked me to marry him. I said yes.”

  “How long did you know him?”

  “About five months.”

  “No way.” My sensible, never impulsive father? The creator of the “crazy clown car clause” proposed to a woman he knew a few months? Talk about wacky.

  She smiled as if she knew what I was thinking. “Yes, he did. Not only that, but he immediately took me into the house and announced our engagement to his parents. Told them he and I had been dating for more than a year and that I was pregnant so we had to get married fast.”

  The bottom fell out of my stomach. Crap on a cracker, that idea had never occurred to me.

  “I wasn’t pregnant, mind you. Your father and I had never even kissed at this point.”

  Relief poured through me. I don’t know why, but I guess the whole parents having sex thing gave me a bad case of the icks.

  “He wanted his parents on our side, you see. So he offered up a fictional pregnancy and the added bonus that my parents had disowned me when they found out. I don’t think either one of us thought the deception through. We were young, impulsive, and afraid. After we were married, we realized we’d have to produce a child within six or seven months to continue the lie through to fruition. When time passed without a blessed event to fall back on, we opted to tell everyone I’d miscarried.” Frowning, she sighed, and her grip on the purse strap tightened. “I lived in your grandmother’s house for three years while your father got his degree and CPA license. My ‘dream house.’ Ha. A nightmare was more like it. Your father worked at Parson’s and went to school full-time so I barely saw him. And while your grandparents never wavered in their support of him, they weren’t quite so open toward me. I couldn’t blame them. They saw me as an interloper, someone who’d ‘trapped’ their son into marriage. Which, I had. But he’d trapped me too. No one knew that. I was totally alone. Even my brother was gone.”

  I didn’t know how to respond. I mean, I’m not a stone. I understood the pain and confusion she probably felt as a young woman in a strange house with people who didn’t particularly like her. Still, that didn’t explain the last twenty-five years.

  “I kept hoping we’d leave Snug Harbor when your father received his license, but no. He wanted to establish a practice here. With some help from his parents, we bought a house on the north side of town, and here we stayed. Then you and your sister came along. Suddenly, I had roots. The girl who had never lived in the same place for more than six months now had a twenty-year mortgage and twin infants to care for. Your father worked long hours to get the business off the ground, and I knew so few people here. As lonely as I’d been at your grandparents’ house, I was even more desolate when we moved.” Shrugging, she splayed her hands on the desktop. “You know what it’s like living in Snug Harbor. Everyone had heard the alleged pregnancy story that forced our marriage, and in this tiny, closed-minded town, I was the immoral woman no one wanted to associate with. As you and Nia grew older, I tried. Really. I joined playgroups, took you both to the local park to meet other mothers, and volunteered at your preschool. No matter what I did, I never seemed to fit in. Then you two went to school full time, and I w
as all alone again. The older you two got, the more isolated I grew. That’s when I met Raymond.”

  “Raymond?” The question escaped my mouth mere seconds before I knew who she meant. Him. The guy she’d left us for. I waved off any explanation she might attempt. “Never mind. I got it.”

  “No, I don’t think you do get it. Your father and I were never a couple. Oh, we put on a front for the neighbors and for you girls. Neither of us was truly happy. Raymond came along when I was probably at the lowest point in my life. I know now that he sensed that weakness in me, but back then, I thought he was going to rescue me from a lifetime of boredom and loneliness.”

  “So what happened? Did you marry him?” I hoped not because as far as I knew, my parents never divorced.

  “Raymond’s affection for me lasted as long as it took for us to reach the Connecticut border. Four hours after I ran off with him, he left me in a rest area. He even took all my belongings, which were in his trunk. All I had was twenty bucks tucked into my purse.”

  Tears filled my eyes, and I sniffed them back. “Why…why didn’t you call home? Daddy would have come to get you and we would’ve gone back to normal.”

  “We were never normal, Paige. I knew that. Deep down, your dad knew it too. At the time, though, I was too ashamed to call him. I felt like the world’s biggest idiot. I’d always prided myself on my street smarts, but I fell for the first good looking guy who tossed meaningless compliments at me.”

  “So what did you do?”

  She shrugged. “I got lucky. The fast food place in the rest area had posted a help wanted sign. I got the job. All those years with my parents ducking security guards and rent collectors managed to pay off because I lived at the rest area until I saved enough money to get an apartment.”

  “You lived at the rest area?”

  “Sure. It was open twenty-four hours, well lit, with lots of security and fairly clean bathrooms. I even found a private ladies shower area that I guess was set up for truckers. I wore a uniform to work so clothes weren’t much of an issue. I survived. Once I had my own place, I worked and attended school, got my high school diploma, then went into paralegal studies. I work for a law firm in Hartford now.”

  “But, I don’t understand.” My head spun with details swirling through a maze of questions. “Why didn’t you contact us when you got back on your feet? At least to let us know you were okay.”

  “That wouldn’t have been fair to any of us. I had hoped your father would have moved on, found love with someone who truly loved him back.”

  “Did you? Find love with someone?”

  A smile touched her lips, but with no happiness behind the expression. “You have to truly love yourself before you can love someone else. That’s part of my reason for coming here. I needed to face my past, to come to terms with all the wrongs I’d done, especially to you and Nia. You’re right. I did abandon you. But I also knew you would be so much better off with your father than with me. Don was generous and loving and patient and all the things I believed I wasn’t. Plus, you had family here. In the end, I was right. All of our lives would have been so much harder if I’d taken you with me.”

  Had she lost her mind? I slapped my palms on the table. “You should have come home. That day. Or even the next day.”

  “I couldn’t. Honestly, I didn’t belong in this place. I still don’t. I only came now to say goodbye to the man who showed me more kindness than I deserved.”

  Realization crept into my brain and, I swear, I gaped at her. “In other words, you never intended to see me or Nia.”

  “To be honest, I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know how you’d react, if you’d be happy to see me or despise me.”

  That comment stung, and I lashed out to return the pain. “I’m still trying to make up my mind.”

  She didn’t even blink. “And Nia?”

  Nia. I knew what she meant. Did I plan to tell Nia about her? The truth was, I had no idea.

  Chapter 21

  Nia

  On Friday morning, I offered special thanks to the cosmetics experts who’d created my dark circle remover pen. Since my brain had spent the last twelve hours jumping between my anxiety over today’s visit with Aidan and yesterday’s argument with Paige, I hadn’t slept much. The rings under my eyes looked as if the Indy 500 had taken place above my cheeks during the night. After a shower complete with my most expensive body wash and a deep conditioning treatment for my hair, with my makeup carefully applied, I stood in front of my closet, seeking the perfect outfit from the creative chaos within. I wanted to wear something that made me look totally put-together, but as if I’d dressed with careless aplomb.

  Where was Tim Gunn when I needed him?

  I finally opted for a silk tee in an emerald tone, a pair of tan cotton capris, and flat closed-toe shoes. For extra oomph, I used a sunny yellow and green paisley-patterned scarf as a headband.

  When I studied my reflection in the full-length mirrored closet door, I grimaced. Why couldn’t I be a petite beauty like Paige? All I needed was a brown pageboy wig and a pillbox hat, and I could be a drag queen impersonating Jackie O.

  Disgusted, I turned away from the mirror. No amount of wishing could change the facts. Even Tim Gunn couldn’t make a red-headed stork look feminine and classy. Besides, no matter how good I looked on the outside, my insides were a mess. My stomach somersaulted, my heart pounded, and I could water the lawn with the amount of sweat in my palms.

  To regain some semblance of control, I touched the charm bracelet at my wrist. My talisman had been a gift from Grandma, a good luck charm that always soothed my frazzled nerves. Inhaling and exhaling several times, I forced a smile onto my face, and vowed to put yesterday’s disagreement with Paige on the back burner for now. I’d have to tackle one problem at a time.

  Not that Aidan was a problem, per se. My feelings for him were the main issue. No one else had ever made me as giddy and as happy as he did. I found him wandering through my mind at all hours. Yesterday, after my run-in with Paige, I’d been so tempted to call him, just to hear his voice. Crazy, I know.

  Crazier still, I gave in to the temptation, but I hung up the minute he answered. At least I’d had the forethought to block my number so he wouldn’t know I was the culprit.

  Pathetic, party of one, your table’s ready.

  Yeah, I know. I’d only known him a few days. Still, I really, really liked him. I mean, genuine this-could-be-the-start-of-something-big kinda like. While my thoughts once again zipped to Aidan, I started out of the room at too quick a pace and stubbed my toe on the bedframe. Pain speared through my foot, and I sucked in a breath. Great. My legendary lack of grace under pressure had arrived right on time. Today was going to bite, I just knew it. Some inner sense told me I stood poised on the precipice of disaster.

  Why did he have to be Aidan Coffield? Why couldn’t he be some schlub from a nearby town with a family of similar financial means to mine? Someone who didn’t have a countess for a mother and a tycoon for a father? Someone who wouldn’t care I was a small town girl?

  If not for those differences, you might seriously pursue him, my heart explained. At least his social stature ensures you’ll consider this what it is: an end-of-summer fling.

  Yeah, right. Because spending the day with him at his vineyard today had absolutely nothing to do with seriously pursuing him. Because the amount of time he ruled my thoughts every day didn’t indicate the depth of my ever-growing attraction.

  I left my bedroom, grabbed my purse, locked up the house, and climbed into my rental car for the twenty-minute drive to Caleb’s Point, home of Piping Plover Vineyards. The day had turned out perfectly, warm and bright with the merest hint of a sea breeze and low humidity. I tried to take the weather as a sign that I had nothing to worry about, but I could almost see the black cloud of doom looming on the horizon.

  The car’s GPS directed me up an expanse of driveway lined on each side with leafy grape plants tied to tiers of wire fencing. At the end
of this long road stood a magnificent three-level Italian villa-style building designed in hues of cream and copper with arched windows and a terracotta roof. The views of lush greenery set against the backdrop of the blue-gray Long Island Sound beneath a chambray sky took my breath away.

  Aidan had recreated the beauty of Tuscany in Caleb’s Point. I fell even harder for him. I’m not as mercenary as that statement probably makes me seem. I meant that a man who could design something so incredibly beautiful had an artist’s soul. That facet of Aidan, which I had seen whenever he studied my sculptures, curled into the corner of my heart and settled there. God, how I wished things could be different between us.

  As I climbed out of the car, he appeared on the front portico—all gentleman of the manor-like. My pulse kicked up at least two notches.

  Down, girl, I told myself.

  He wore a pale blue polo shirt over faded jeans. Embroidered on the right breast of the shirt was the yellow-threaded outline of a tiny bird on stick legs, the vineyard’s logo, a piping plover. I walked toward him, and he scaled the marble steps at a trot, without ever touching the gorgeous stone bannister. We each came to a stop at the edge of the curved walkway, a breath apart.

  “Hey.” He leaned forward, kissed me, and cupped my hand in his.

  My body surged with electricity. Every nerve ending tingled. I managed a shaky, “Hi,” in return.

  “I’m so glad you’re here.” He led me forward toward the stairs. “Would you like to start your tour with the vineyard itself or the house?”

  I held back, my gaze sweeping up the creamy stone walls. A house. This magnificent building was a real house? I had assumed the villa to be a façade to lure in tourists. “Someone actually lives here?”

  His smile warmed my insides. “I live here.”

  He lived here. Why was I surprised? The classical beauty of the house and the land suited him like…well, like a hand-tailored suit. “Just for now, though, right?” I surmised. “Until the vineyard’s grand opening?” Maybe I’m a dunce, but I couldn’t wrap my head around the idea that he actually lived in this fantasy palace.