Two Weeks in August

by Nat Burns

  Mama New took a deep breath but before she could start up again, Nina, totally bewildered by the whole monologue, spoke up.

  “Has a courier come, Mama New?” she asked. “I’m expecting an important package.”

  “Oh sure, honey, Lyle came by just a while ago.” Mama New moved over to the wooden boxes filling one wall. Nina smiled at the unaffected way she stopped and adjusted her long flowing dress over her ample hips before crossing the room.

  “Let’s see, number eight, wasn’t it? Or number twelve? There’s something there too today.” She peered curiously into the wooden latticework of mailboxes.

  “Number eight,” Nina replied, trying not to laugh at the woman’s endearing mannerisms.

  “Well, here you go then; a small stack.” She handed it over to Nina then moved closer to read the return addresses as Nina leafed through them.

  “Anything interesting?” she asked, curiosity emanating from her.

  Nina groaned inwardly. Her days of freedom were over. A large white overnight delivery mailer from Jennings-Ryder Books was included and she knew herself well enough to know she would not be able to lay the manuscript aside. She’d have to read at least the first chapter to get the flavor of the novel before doing anything else.

  A waybill copy was attached to the package and Nina touched it where Hazy’s large sweeping signature flashed across it.

  Since Mama New was still watching, Nina pulled out the small box sent from her father and opened it.

  “Oh, a book,” said Mama New. “Isn’t that sweet. From a boyfriend perhaps?”

  “Oh no,” Nina answered quickly, “just my father. He always sends me stuff. I’m an only child and my parents tend to spoil me.”

  The admission, though she tried to make it nonchalant, had always come out a bit defensively. What right had she to receive the sole attention of two parents when other children had to share love and attention?

  “Now that’s a nice thing,” said Mama New as she moved back to sit behind the desk. She lifted a hand up to pat the auburn hair coiled at the nape of her neck.

  “Is ta hard being an only child? We have four but they’ve all moved away now ’cept for the little one, Heather. She’s only five and is a handful enough. I don’t think I had as much trouble with the four all at once as I do with this wee one alone.” She paused and eyed Nina with one eye closed. “Do you think Heather will do all right being by herself now? I often wonder it, I do.”

  “I think so,” Nina replied, thinking, four children! No wonder Hazy had to work so hard, especially if she was helping put some through college. “I’ve been happy and have always considered myself lucky not having to share my parents.”

  Mama New nodded her agreement and sighed. “I suppose you’re right, one can’t help worrying though.”

  The door opened then and Hazy walked in, a fierce frown marring her features.

  “Where is Eduardo?” she demanded of Mama New. “I’ve got three boats he was supposed to clean this mornin’ and they haven’t been touched. And Manny’s off today.”

  Mama New came around the desk to soothe her partner. “Now Hazy, honey, let’s not have a blow. Eduardo’s gone over to south end to see about getting more vacuum bags for the gals so they can finish up the cottages. He’ll be back shortly and I’ll ride him hard ’till the work’s done.”

  “Ah, I didn’t realize. I thought he was just layin’ out again,” Hazy remarked somewhat sheepishly. “Sorry to take it out on you, love.” She swung one arm about Mama New’s shoulders and pulled her close.

  Her eyes finally caught Nina standing by the dock door, mail cradled to her chest.

  “What have ye done to your hair?” she asked abruptly. “Have ye cut it?”

  Nina reached up a hand to pull the bulk of her ponytail from behind her back. She felt like a naughty child.

  “Well thank goodness for that,” she said, “but it’s much more becomin’ when it’s down and loose.”

  Mama New looked from Nina to Hazy in confusion.

  Hurt and indignant, Nina mumbled an excuse and slammed out the door. She stomped around the deck and across the drive, seeking the safety of her cottage.

  How dare she treat her that way and in front of her partner! How could such a sweet woman stand to live with such a harridan?

  Sitting at her desk, forcibly dismissing Hazy and Mama New from her mind, Nina took out the new Jennings-Ryder manuscript and tried to concentrate on it.

  Written by a woman named Kathryn Shaner, the book, titled Fate in her Hands was, according to the summary, about a young woman who held her large family together through terrible odds, including a disastrous fire, the death of a patriarch, a kidnapping and a sea voyage.

  She was caught up in the story for a short time but her mind kept wandering to the real drama outside the novel.

  Putting the book aside, she pulled out the enclosed letter from Martha. In the missive, Martha stated that she was looking forward to visiting Nina’s new home and seeing the ocean during her favorite ocean watching time, a heavy storm.

  Nina dropped the letter and walked over to the far window to watch the dancing channel water.

  Only to espy the woman who kept her emotions so stormy of late. She was cleaning her boats. Obviously, Eduardo had not yet returned, even though it was almost noon.

  Nina watched the play of muscles under the skin of Hazy’s thinly clad back as she stretched out an arm trying to scrub a faraway point on the stern of the little craft. Her hands were dripping and soapy and an unexpected thrill went through Nina as soapsuds ran down her arm and trickled along to dampen the shirt above her well-defined ribs.

  Enough!

  Nina couldn’t believe she was lusting so after someone—a married someone at that. And someone almost twice her age. It was totally unlike her and she had to put a stop to it.

  Donning a light shirt over her T-shirt and shorts, Nina left the cottage and got into her car. Maybe spending some money would make her feel better.

  Chapter 16

  Hazy straightened from the crouched position she had assumed next to the rental boat she was cleaning and surreptitiously watched Nina leave the cottage. Nina didn’t even glance her way as she got into and drove off in her little bubble car.

  She wanted to go after her, to soothe the anger and hurt somehow. She was afraid though, afraid she would be unable to choose the right words.

  No, actually she was afraid of what might spew uncontrolled from her damning mouth.

  She smiled ruefully at the smooth, white side of the small two-seater and ran her hand slowly across its broad, wet sleekness, imagining it as Nina’s skin.

  She might accidentally tell Nina she wanted her. Maybe even that she might fall in love with her if she spent too much time alone with her. And that would be almost worse than dying because then she’d have to deal with her feelings...and Nina’s feelings.

  Her gaze traveled along the road in the direction Nina had gone.

  She was too fetching a woman. Dressed in shorts she showed a little more leg and appeared more grown up. Dressed in her usual denims and T-shirts, her tiny size made her look like a prepubescent teen and Hazy felt every year of their age difference when next to her. It was hard enough taking her eyes off Nina when she was wearing jeans. Dressed as she was now, well…Her mind drifted to the overwhelming attraction she had felt for her a few nights before.

  There must have been some erotic quality in the fact that she had just come from the bath. Or perhaps it came from being in the close confines of that tiny room together…her lemony soap smell…just the two of them amid the silence of the night.

  She slapped the side of the boat then turned and pressed the hot skin of her cotton-clad back against its wet coolness. Leaning her head back, she shut her eyes tight, enjoying the heat of the sun on her skin. She was acting like a mesmerized schoolgirl, filled with the ache of longing.

  For many years now, she had avoided true intimacy. But avoiding closeness wi
th Nina was taking every ounce of prickly fortitude she had in her. She still wasn’t sure what specifically had prevented her from going to Nina and laying lips against the gentle pulse that moved under the curve of her neck.

  When Nina had come looking for help, Hazy had just finished dinner with Heather and had tucked her in. During dinner, she’d had a couple glasses of the fine German wine brought to her long ago by her friend, Seth. This had prompted maudlin thoughts about Seth’s death.

  Then Nina had arrived with her talk of books and authors. Hazy had dreamed for a very short while that Nina could fill that lonely gap that devoured her from the inside out. She had begun to see her as a comrade and that was very dangerous indeed.

  She actually enjoyed being with Nina and this was something she could say about few women she’d met in her life.

  It had embarrassed her this morning when she’d been so mean to her in front of Mama New. The hardest part had been trying to explain it to Carrie without letting her know she’d been smitten by Nina. How could she tell her that being mean to Nina was her only defense? How could she explain that if she was the least bit nice, too much emotion would come out, deflating her like a rubber balloon? Carrie would think her crazy. She already did, it seemed like.

  She sighed wearily. All she could do now was stay as far as possible from Miss Nina Christie and hope desperately that her house would be finished sooner rather than later.

  She turned back to the boat and, using pent-up emotion and confusion as a spur, began furiously scrubbing it to pristine whiteness.

  Chapter 17

  The day had grown hot while she’d been cooped up inside her cottage. Beach Road had a good layer of heat vapor rising from it. The ocean breezes didn’t reach this far inland and the middle of the island simmered in the August sunlight.

  Nina parked her Volkswagen before a small independent grocery and, stripping off her light overshirt, stepped into the brutal sunlight. Across the street a small fair had been set up in a wooded grove but few people were out braving the heat.

  Trying to keep her mind occupied, she went into the store and bought a few nonperishable provisions. The high point of the excursion was discovering the grocery stocked her favorite brand of shampoo.

  Gasping as she stepped back into the late summer heat from the coolness of the grocery store, Nina stowed the items in the back of her car and strolled over to the fair.

  Tables had been set up on a lawn that was remarkably green for August and about a dozen local crafters were displaying their handiwork. Many artisans actually were practicing their craft, working so a mere fair would waste no time. An elderly gentleman who was carving ducks and other waterbirds from blocks of pale wood piqued her interest. Several of the birds, painted in muted, natural colors rested on a nearby table.

  Intrigued, Nina lifted one and was amazed by its realistic appearance.

  “Looks fair ready to take to the water, doesn’t it, miss?” The man paused in his carving and watched her with avid curiosity. “These were used as decoys back when hunting meant dinner on the table. Ducks are stupid but sly. How real your bird looked decided whether you ate that night,” he told her cheerfully.

  Nina smiled, enchanted by the gentleman. “Well, you’ve done a fine job. I bet you’ve never gone hungry.”

  He laughed and slapped a hand on his thigh. “Thank you, miss, but that’s not the case. I was lazy as a boy and when I didn’t fetch the birds fast enough for my da, I went hungry no matter how many ducks he brought home for the pot.”

  Nina looked at him in surprise. “That’s not very nice.”

  He shrugged and bent back to his carving. “I learned not to be lazy.”

  He peered up at her. “Where are you from? You look like someone I know.”

  “I’m from Alexandria actually, but my Grandpapa Tom lived here and I used to visit him from time to time.”

  “Tom, Tom who?” he asked, squinting one eye to peer up at her.

  “Tom Burley, over on the channel,” she replied.

  “Sure, I know who you’re talkin’ about. I served as mate under Captain Tom on the Lady Say. I seen your likeness on the mantel board at the big house one day. That’s why I thought you looked familiar. You look a little like your mother, too. I knew Miss Emily, you know, and her passing was a harsh blow to us all. I thank ye that Tom had the gull Freda to look after.”

  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 ha
ppened 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.