Sundial

by C. F. Fruzzetti

  “And who else went? Was it that guy from your class, Adam Bennett?” Reid asked, as if he was trying to recall a conversation that we did not have.

  “Yes, Adam was with us. He knew surprisingly little about survival for being the son of an admiral,” Blair answered. “He was on a different team though. Three of those guys ended up in the hospital…”

  “All right. All right. Let’s move on to happier times and finish talking about Fourth of July. I’d like Ruth and Shannon to come,” I said, trying to move the conversation away from camp. Blair thought I had told him about it, and I didn’t want any more spilling out on accident—like how I got my barbed wire scar.

  Blair always told that story like I was some kind of hero. I had a quick premonition of one of the boys on my team going over the edge of a steep cliff so I pushed him out of the way before it could happen. I didn’t see the barbed wire until it was too late. I glanced down at my legs and saw Reid’s hands resting casually on my knees. His finger drummed lightly on my scar. That must have been why I was remembering it.

  “Sounds good to me,” Reid agreed. He glanced at me with a soft look of concern. I shifted my leg. Thinking about my scar made my knee feel tender.

  “Do you think Ruth will come?” Blair asked, casting a look of doubt in my direction. Reid picked up on it instantly.

  “What’s wrong with Ruth?” he asked. “She’s your pretty, New Wave friend, right? Don’t tell me she doesn’t like me because she is anti-establishment and she thinks my family IS the establishment. Isn’t that too cliché?”

  Blair burst out laughing. “Yes, but I think you hit the nail on the head.”

  I squirmed uncomfortably. Reid seemed to sense I felt caught between a rock and a hard place. I had known Ruth since elementary school. She was one of the few people I knew that liked to have fun doing different, interesting things. We spent many days after school constructing and racing boats down a creek near my house. I wouldn’t give up someone special like that for anyone.

  He patted my leg and said, “Don’t worry, Whitney. I DO have intelligent friends. How about Patrick, Ross, and some of those guys? Ross seems like someone Ruth could relate to. He’s always talking about that punk band Dag Nasty.”

  Blair was noticeably happy to hear Patrick’s name in the rotation. I laughed at the mention of Dag Nasty. I didn’t know if that was on Ruth’s record store shopping list but it was edgier than what most of the steak heads from football would be listening to and was worth a shot. I nodded at Reid in agreement. I appreciated him making the effort.

  It was becoming harder to imagine my life without him. Reid was putting a wrinkle into my plan of disappearing off the world map. For the first time in my life, I was questioning if I had a reason to stay or had someone whom I could run with to distant corners of the globe.

  Whoa. I hit my thought pause button. Rewind. I was getting ahead of myself. I was too realistic to be thinking this way. Attraction was one thing but love was another. I was not foolish enough to confuse the two.

  I wished my intuition would help me out more with Reid but it was not something I could control. The government promised to teach me how to turn it on and off like a remote control if I would come back to the lab. They should know better than to try to exploit someone who could sense it. They wanted to teach me to control it while providing them with information. Instead, I had declined the invitation to return to their laboratory—repeatedly. That place made me sick thinking about it.

  The back door opened and Eileen and her boyfriend, Gary, walked out to the deck. Reid’s face brightened. Gary and Eileen were both in his class and Gary was Reid’s neighbor.

  Gary’s father was a Cabinet member in the Reagan Administration, but Gary was unassuming. Although not as tall as Reid, he was thick and broad shouldered and reminded me of a more refined Hulk Hogan. He had a similar Hulkster blond hairstyle of short in the front and long in the back and a raspy, hollow voice. It was hard not to notice him despite his disheveled style of frayed khaki shorts and faded T-shirts, especially when he was driving his pristine white Corvette.

  “Hey, guys,” Eileen said. She was even taller than Blair at five feet nine inches. Her sandy hair, streaked with gold highlights, grazed her shoulders. Eileen had deep brown eyes and she evaluated everyone with a head to toe sweep of sophistication that could not be duplicated. She had a platter with sliced cheese in one hand. Gary went right up to Reid.

  “How’s it going, man?” he asked, giving him a friendly handshake.

  “Couldn’t be better.” Reid grinned back. Gary nodded and said hello to Blair and me.

  Eileen took the cheese over to the grill. Gary followed and greeted Mr. Delaney. A loud eruption of laughter came from Gary as Mr. Delaney joked with him. Eileen rolled her eyes and came back over to us.

  “Blair, Mom needs the table set,” Eileen ordered, her eyes on Blair’s casual repose. Eileen had a way of speaking that intimidated my friends. She was always in charge. Her confidence never bothered me and I knew her to be patient, considerate and kind. She always let Blair and I catch rides with her and she was entertained by our schemes and plans.

  “Well, Whitney and I made the salad. Where have you been?” Blair asked with annoyance.

  “I’ll do it,” I said easily, getting up from the lounge. It diffused the power struggle between the sisters and put us all on the same team again. I was also glad to have a reason to get up and clear my mind.

  “I’ll get the plates. Whitney, you get the silverware, Blair, how about drinks?” Eileen suggested.

  “The burgers are almost ready!” Mr. Delaney called. He opened his large metal barbeque tongs and then clamped them open and closed instead of saying “chop-chop.”

  Reid followed us past the climbing white clematis that was scaling its way up the brick wall of the house and into the kitchen. “Looks like all hands on deck,” he said. “Mrs. Delaney, what do you need me to do?”

  Mrs. Delaney looked at Reid with sly approval and loaded him up with the condiments and rolls to carry out to the deck. As the oldest of seven children, Blair’s mom effortlessly blended me into their busy household. It went unsaid that she filled a void in my life. I hated to think about the premonitions I had of my mother’s death that everyone told me was a nightmare. It had been a nightmare, all right, but all too real.

  “Burgers, perfectly grilled,” Mr. Delaney proclaimed, setting down the enormous plate with a thud.

  Gary carried out a pyramid of fresh corn on the cob that already had thick pats of butter melting over them. A platter of sliced tomatoes, mozzarella, and chiffonades of fresh basil drizzled with glistening olive oil and sweet balsamic vinegar was in the center of the table. A bowl of red skin potato salad was garnished with fresh parsley from Mrs. Delaney’s herb garden.

  “So gentlemen, what’s new?” Mr. Delaney asked Reid and Gary. “Reid, any chance you are a Giants fan?” Their conversation segued into sports while Mrs. Delaney passed the sliced tomatoes and asked about our Fourth of July plans.

  “We are going out on Reid’s boat. Eileen and Gary, feel free to join us if you want,” I said affably. “The boat is certainly big enough.”

  “Definitely come if you don’t already have plans. We were just talking about it,” Reid affirmed.

  “Huh. Sounds tempting,” Eileen said, taking a sip of her limeade.

  “Still got the boat down at the Yacht Club?” Gary asked. “I thought your dad kept saying he was going to drudge the dock in the back of your house so he could put her out on your pier.”

  “He’s always saying that but he is never in town long enough to get it coordinated. My mom doesn’t want the boat to obstruct the water view so she is happy to let that ball drop. Personally, I like it better at the club. That way, they don’t notice how much she is missing,” Reid joked.

  That was a good point. Even with the infrequency in which Reid’s parents were at their house, Sanctuary was out of her slip almost every day and the disappearan
ce of their large luxury boat might have eventually caught their attention. Blair and I suddenly had a new appreciation for the marina, even before we saw how patriotic its members were a week later.

  The Mariner’s Point Yacht Club loved Fourth of July. All the boats proudly flew American flags, and red, white, and blue bunting hung under every window of the brick clubhouse. The grills churned out hot dogs and the smell of charcoal was in the air. Patriotic music tried to best the cheers from the pool, and boats were crowded with people socializing. It was a raucous and fun atmosphere.

  I grabbed the extra towels and boat keys from the car. Reid asked me to also bring the Tower Records bag he had in the front seat. I was curious about the bag and rifled through it when I got onto the boat. Reid had bought a wide variety of alternative music.

  “Roxy Music? 10,000 Maniacs? Suzanne Vega? New Order?” I asked in disbelief, flipping through some of the CDs as I walked to join him on the boat. I knew this was NOT his musical taste.

  “Hey! No peeking!” Reid laughed, snatching the bag away. I was bewildered.

  “You wanted Ruth to feel comfortable, so I am doing my best,” he said, answering my unspoken question. “New Wave girls are not THAT mysterious, you know. I may not buy my clothes at Commander Salamander in Georgetown, but I think I can figure her out.”

  “Oh really?” I said, laughing at how accurately he pinpointed Ruth’s favorite funky clothing store. I had to admit I found his social astuteness very appealing. “What IS your type?”

  “Are you fishing?” he joked. He flipped up his Oakleys to scrutinize my face. He pulled me close to him and I drank in the mischief of his eyes. The wind from the water stroked my hair and the boat bobbed slightly and pushed me gently into him.

  “Depends on what I catch,” I managed to get out before I was swept up into his kiss. His lips tasted like a peppermint Certs. My hand was pressed against his chest and I felt his laughter echoing against his ribs.

  “Just checking,” he teased. “Yeah, I would have to say you are definitely my type. I wonder why though…”

  “’Cause I am so smart?” I volunteered, leaning back into him.

  “Smart-mouthed, you mean?” he joked, trying to provoke me. His dimples gave his tart reply an added sweetness. I bit my lower lip, thinking of my response.

  “Pretty?” I asked with a flirtatious tilt of my head.

  “Pretty competitive, you mean?” He laughed louder as he foiled me again. He gave me a playful tickle in the ribs as if he was sneaking in a jab. I didn’t like my score in this round. He could see I was starting to get frustrated at his reluctance to give me any compliment at all. I needed to come up with a knockout.

  “A good kisser?” I challenged. I narrowed my eyes, daring him to admit or deny it. I had him right where I wanted him—totally on the ropes.

  “I think I’d better check that,” he said before ducking down and kissing me again. The breeze grazed my skin and I felt myself melt into him. I ran my hand through his hair to pull him closer to me. I could hear “Stars and Stripes Forever” in the distance and the river lapping against the hull of the boat. Then I heard someone cough loudly and deliberately behind us.

  “Um, isn’t it too early for fireworks?” Patrick sarcastically asked. He was carrying two PoFolks picnic containers, one in each hand. The containers were cardboard boxes shaped like houses. Each had a handle on top of the roof.

  “Who says it doesn’t pay to work at PoFolks?” Patrick asked with a smile as he lifted up the boxes. Patrick was wearing just a white T-shirt, Billabong swim trunks, and his tattered Adidas Sambas. His hair was long and curlier than usual. His bright blue eyes jumped out from his tanned skin. He looked like he had just caught a wave in from Hawaii.

  Across the lawn I saw Eileen, Gary, and Blair approaching. Perfect timing, I thought. Blair looked especially good in her red, white, and blue madras shorts and navy shirt. I was glad I had told them to come an hour before everyone else. I couldn’t believe it was already twelve-thirty in the afternoon.

  An hour later, I was keeping an eye out for Ruth and Shannon. I was relieved when I saw them arrive before some of the other guys Reid had invited.

  Shannon’s svelte figure cut an hourglass silhouette out the passenger side door and she waved to me from the car. She had on a white eyelet halter that tied around the neck, very short shorts, big dark sunglasses, and a large floppy hat. I expected photographers to jump out from some of the landscaped shrubs and snap her picture.

  Ruth was reserved in comparison. She had on a white sleeveless tank, cargo shorts, red cat eye Vuarnet sunglasses, and her faded Chuck Taylor’s. She saw me and shook her head at Shannon, who was strutting like Jayne Mansfield toward the boat.

  I helped them aboard and introduced them to everyone. Reid offered them drinks while I motioned for them to follow me up to the seats on top of the bow. Her favorite 10,000 Maniacs song was playing on the stereo and Ruth smiled broadly at me. She was pleased.

  “So THIS is where you have been all summer? I can see why,” she said, peeling off her white shirt down to her black bandeau bikini top. Shannon tossed off her clothes in favor of her red and white polka dot bikini. They unfolded two towels and put them down on the white seats.

  I stayed to talk with them until Reid called for help with the lines. I hadn’t realized Reid’s other friends had arrived; we were getting ready to go out. The back of the boat was a party in full swing. I made my way through the rowdy group to help Reid cast off and kept him company at the wheel while he dodged some of the smaller boats and jet skis to get out into the busy channel. The sound of the motor increased as we gained speed.

  When we crossed the wakes of other large boats, it sometimes sprayed the bow. Ruth and Shannon laughed with delight from the unexpected shower. I noticed they were not alone for long as Ross and a few other guys found them and their ideal spot. Blair was sitting with Patrick, Gary, and Eileen. As we turned north up the Potomac, everything was in harmony. In that moment, I didn’t have a worry in my mind. My intuition told me to remember it; things were going to change, and soon.

  The happiness of the day carried over into the evening. Everyone was eagerly anticipating the first signs of fireworks and wondering if Virginia would launch them ahead of D.C. this year. It was crowded on the fly deck so I was happy for the excuse to sit on Reid’s lap. He had his arms wrapped securely around me and I was glad to have him blanket me from the night breeze.

  After the fireworks, we joined the rest of the river traffic back to port. It was late by the time everyone left the boat. On the way home, Reid asked me if I wished I had gone to the airport party this year.

  “Hmmm…” I pretended to mull it over. I looked up at the stars as they rolled over my head in his convertible. I grabbed my chin with my fingers like he had done at dinner at Blair’s house.

  “You can’t be serious,” he laughed. “Can’t you stop using everything I do against me?”

  “You’re right. I don’t recall reading you your Miranda rights,” I joked. “But you can feel justified that going out on the boat WAS a better choice than the airport. I can’t think of anything that could have made it better. The view was fantastic.” I put my hand lightly over his on top of the stick shift.

  “And what about the company?” Reid teased as he playfully ran his hand across my knee and gave it a squeeze. One of his fingers grazed my scar and I thought about how Reid still had some explaining to do. I fought to keep a head rush at bay and to take a deep breath instead.

  “Who’s fishing now?” I bantered in return. I let my head ease back on the soft leather headrest as I turned to my left to look at him. I could see a glint of appreciation for my joke in his eye.

  “Fair enough. I should have known I would only take a beating instead.” Reid laughed, but something had changed in his tone of voice. He was more serious. I looked at him expectantly.

  “I know your family is close to the Bennett family. Admiral Bennett mentioned that you and hi
s son, Adam, had known each other since you were kids when I told him I was going to Gramercy. You could say that he brought you to my attention by warning me that you were too smart for me. He has a picture of you, Adam, and his other son on his desk. You were laughing and putting bunny ears behind Adam’s head.”

  I felt my face turn red. I remembered that day and Admiral Bennett taking the photo before we went down the ski run. My brain was working overtime trying to figure out why Reid was in Admiral Bennett’s office.

  Reid answered my question as if I had asked it aloud. “I’m in a special program that operates under the Navy SEALs. I decided to go to Gramercy High School after I saw that picture of you on his desk.”

  What? He decided to go to school based on a picture of me? Who does that?

  “So you weren’t kicked out of private school for fighting?” I clarified. I searched to flip off the anger switch that he had just flipped on inside my brain. He had targeted me from the start. Was I just a challenge to him? Something to possess because Admiral Bennett said I was too smart for him? I cut the questions. I needed to stay calm and get information.

  “Oh. Well. I guess you could say I ended a fight but I didn’t start it,” Reid laughed. “I was already in the Poseidon Program and knew that St. Mark’s was not a good fit for me. I decided Gramercy had a lot more going for it.” Reid gave me an alluring smile. I was not taking the bait and I was not about to be a trophy girlfriend.

  “Let me get this straight. You went to Gramercy because of a picture you saw on a desk. You actually changed schools to prove Admiral Bennett wrong in some twisted contest? That’s what I am to you? Some stupid prize?” I huffed.