"Well, ma'am, she's the one to see in this town. If she doesn't own or manage it, it's not worth looking at if you want someplace nice. Least ways that's what Mister Pete says. And he's been around here for years."
"Yes, I know. I saw him the other day. Looked at me like I was a . . . a, never mind. That's neither fair nor polite. Well, now, let's see. There was something . . . Oh, I do have one more question."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Do you, and possibly your boyfriends, have binoculars?"
Colton turns beet red and feels the heat of his blushing as if he is standing in the middle of a burning incinerator. He tries to speak but before he can utter a response. Rachael says, "Looks like I touched a nerve. Do you, and do you use them to--"
Sean comes to the galley and interrupts. "Well, now. Found both of the folks I was lookin' for. What's up? What's goin' on down here in the bowels of my ship?" He looks at Colton who has gone from beet red to a sickly jaundice color with eyes bigger than saucers and perspiration forming on his forehead. "What's wrong with you, Mister?"
"He's swallowed his binoculars. Bye, you two, I've got to run. Have an appointment with his mother, Mrs. Callahan." Rachael whisks out of the hatch.
Sean glances at her, then turns his steely blues on the boy who has flushed again. Colton stammers, "Oh . . .Ahhh . . . nothin' Mister Gallagher, nothin'. I was on my way topside to see you when I collided with Miss Rachael. Miss Waters, I mean. We were talkin' about how--
"Much he looks like you, Sean," interrupts Rachael as she pokes her head back in the door. "Is the darnedest thing, don't you think?"
"Never gave it much thought. But we do look like brothers or something."
"Or something. Well, I must be off." She takes a step back in, leans forward and on her toes, kisses Sean on the lips, turns and hugs Colton, saying, "Bye, guys. Nice meeting you, Colt. See you later. I believe we're going to be shipmates this afternoon and evening." With lighter than air steps she strides up and out of the galley area, heading aft to the dock.
Sean and Colton stare after her. Sean breaks the silence. "Mister, you better get to your chores. Will be fishing later this afternoon, for flounder. Then dinner, drinks and cruising. Just in the bay. Will anchor up for dinner. Cruise after. And we'll have to keep an eye on the weather. Now, I've got to go up to the restaurant."
"Aye aye, sir . . . Sir . . . ahhh, Miss Rachael sure is a knockout. I mean, wow!" And he leaves to start his chores.
Sean follows Colton with his eyes until he's out of sight.
What the hell was that all about?
* * *
Pete has slept in this morning. First time since Sean has been home. First time he hasn't had a fishing trip scheduled. And another first, a day off. Anna has fixed him his favorite. Pancakes. He won't eat them when he's going out. Never has. Told Anna he didn't want anything that heavy in his stomach when he was going out . . . something strange and unsubstantiated about how he wouldn't be able to swim well if the boat capsized or went down. She shook her head in disbelief when he told her years ago but she's honored it nonetheless. Hence, no fishing trip today; pancakes it is.
They chat while they eat. Mostly about their wedding and coming trip to Rome. When he finishes his second short stack, he pushes his plate back, takes a sip of his black coffee and says, "Well, Anna darlin', that was good. Real good. Love pancakes, but can't eat them when going to sea."
"I know, you've told me dozens of times."
"Guess I have. Well, what's on the schedule today?"
"Well, you promised you would take me up around the lighthouse and we would fish off the rocks. Maybe get a nice flounder or two for dinner tonight."
"Sounds good, and I did promise that."
"And I need to do some grocery shopping. You could help."
"I will. And we need to go by the restaurant. Take a look. It's in fact comin' along quickly. I believe it'll be ready by the middle of August . . . maybe closer to the end."
"That's good, and you know what that means?"
"Yep, goin' to make an honest woman of you. Should have done it sooner."
"We should have done a lot of things sooner, but we didn't. But, I'm happy every day I have with you. Married or not. But I know you'll feel better after. As will I."
Pete nods, smiles. Takes a long sip of coffee. Stares out the two side-by-side kitchen windows over the sink that overlook the beach. And then God can work his plan instead of making me suffer. Get to work on Sean and Grace. But, I think He will do it through the boy. The Shepherd. Yes, the boy; the shepherd will be the instrument. Like David.
"Peter. Are you with me?"
He lurches forward at the sound of her voice. "Oh, yes. Was lost in my thoughts. Thinkin' of the wedding and things . . . the restaurant."
"Hmmmm. And not the foolish thoughts of yours and God's plan?"
"Plan? Oh, no. No. Feeling good this morning. Rested. Lookin' forward to the day. Let's get a goin'."
* * *
Rachael strolls into Holli's office building. Ellie, Holli's secretary, greets her and tells her that Mrs. Callahan is expecting her. She's about to hit the buzzer when Holli comes out, says, "Good morning, Miss Waters. Welcome to Harvey Cedars. No, welcome 'back home' is better."
"Thank you. It's Rachael, please."
Holli nods, smiles, says, "And Holli. Come in, have a seat and tell me what you have in mind."
They go in Holli's office and Holli closes the door behind her. After Rachael is seated, and rather than sitting behind her desk, Holli chooses a chair next to Rachael in front of the desk. A magazine table between them. They chat for a few moments about the weather and the changes in the town. For some reason it seems like fencing to Holli. But with only a gut feeling does nothing. She sticks to business and asks, "What do you have in mind? Purchase, long term lease, short term . . . what's your pleasure? I still have a few nice places to lease. And some exceptionally nice homes or condos for sale."
Rachael pauses, then asks rhetorically, "What's my pleasure? Yes, that's a good question." She grins like a cat spying a mouse. "Something temporary I think." Then after the slightest of pauses, asks coyly, "Do you know Mister Gallagher well?"
Holli parries with, "Do I know Mister Gallagher. That's an odd question." She pauses, then a coy grin. "However, not at all, as a matter of fact. Only that he used to live here. Was gone for many years and has returned. And that my son works for him on his boat."
Rachael still with a slight grin, "Yes, your son. Nice young man. Met him this morning, earlier. He got a little flustered. Something about binoculars." Holli flushes. Rachael goes on. "Anyway, I'm interested in leasing. Short term until I decide to purchase . . . or not. Haven't made up my mind yet about buying."
Now only a pale pink, Holli responds as calmly as possible. "Well, I have some nice places that I can show you. A short lease won't be a problem at this time although most of the especially nice places have been leased for this summer season. I do have a few luxury condos open. Would you like to browse through the listings and select some you think you'd like to see, or just have me put something together for, say, tomorrow?"
"The latter I think would be good. I have a few errands to run this morning, and have to get back to the boat. We're going out again this afternoon and evening."
"Really? My son told me that Mister Gallagher has a fishing trip today."
"He does. Sean, Colt and I are going out together. I'll help cook, I guess, and serve. Or perhaps stay out of the way and let the two boys handle everything."
"Two boys? I thought only Colt was going out. Not the other hand."
"Yes, that's right. By boys I meant Sean and Colt. They look so alike, don't you think?"
"Do they? I don't know. I haven't met or seen Mister Gallagher but it must be so. My son mentioned something about it. Well, you know what they say. Everyone has a--"
"Yes, I know. A double somewhere in the world. Well, got to run. What time is convenient for you tomorrow?"
&n
bsp; Holli leans over her desk, flips a page on her calendar, glances at it and says, "Let's see, after church. Eleven would be fine with me. For you?"
"Great. I'll be here." Ignoring the subtle hint or barb about it being a Sunday. She goes on, "Look forward to it, and thanks for your help. Who knows, perhaps this will lead to a sale down the road and a great friendship." She stands, reaches out to shake Holli's hand. They do and Holli opens the office door and leads her out, and onto the street.
Holli says, "Thanks for your business. See you tomorrow, Sunday at eleven."
"My pleasure. You're the best in town, so I've heard." The sly grin returns, "You should meet your son's boss. Good to know who he spends his time with . . . besides, he's a hunk."
"Perhaps I should; I didn't notice. But then I don't spend much time on the bay front, especially at night."
They smile at each other. It's the type of smile two woman project who are both feigning amiability, but are fingering their epees, ensuring they are loose in the scabbards. Rachael strolls to her car, looking about, but not back. She does wave over her shoulder. Holli's glare follows the woman, then she turns slowly, mutters, "Bitch," and strides smartly to her office.
Having watched and listened, Ellie's eyes follow her boss. What the hell is going on around here? She's startled back to the moment by Holli shouting, "Ellie, get Mister Barto on the phone."
Across the street, Chuck Barto is leaving his office but stops on the steps having spied the two women. He can't help but watch the blond woman stroll to her car; his mind wandering with each pace. Walks like a sleepy lioness coming from the shade into the sun. A stroll before she spots her prey. Then the prowl. Hungry. Then the crouch, and the leap. He mutters aloud, "Makes me want to be an antelope."
His fantasy ends when his secretary comes out the door and calls, "Mister Barto, it's Mrs. Callahan on the phone. Says she needs to talk to you."
"Okay, tell her I'll be there in a minute. Hell, she can see me from her office. She knows."
It's probably about Gallagher and his woman splashing around in the bay at night. Got two calls already. Both from her neighbors.
"Wish I'd seen it." He picks up the phone.
It's as he thought.
* * *
After a little shopping to include the antique shop, and a stroll around town, Rachael returns to the dock. She puts some of the items in the trunk of her Beamer, and brings a few small bags with her. She boards the boat. Is greeted by Colt who has finished all his chores and is waiting on the stern for the customers to arrive.
"Afternoon, Miss Waters. We're all set to shove off as soon as the folks get here."
"Well, good, Colt. Had a nice meeting with your mother. She's a fine lady. She's going to find me a place to stay. So I can spread out, although the boat is fun. But, I would guess at times I could be a nuisance."
"I doubt that. At least not to me. I . . . I like having you aboard."
"My, my, Colt. Are you flirting with me?"
He turns incinerator red again. Stammers, "I wasn't . . . No, I wouldn't do . . .Aw, you're just joshing me again. Trying to get me flustered."
"Who's flustered?" asks Sean as he hops up and out of the galley area.
"Your First Mate, Captain. Ol' Wanderer One here."
"I'm not either, sir. She's been jerking my chain again. Anyway, I guess you're down here, sir, because the customers are coming. I'll go help with their things."
Sean nods, "You got it, Colton. Go." He turns to Rachael and says, "You need to leave that poor boy alone. He'll be a mess if you keep teasing him."
"Yes, you're right. But you know, I think he saw us the other night. I can read men pretty easy . . . boys are a snap."
"Is that right? Am I included in that?"
"Oh yes. You're extremely easy to read, and since you two look like twins, he's not even a test. Listen, while I'm on the subject, how did an Irishman like you get so much blond hair? Or him, a Callahan. Ever think about that?"
"Yep. Not that it has anything to do with anything you're talkin' about. My granddad married a Dane, and my father married a Swede. I guess their blond chromosomes just bludgeoned the Irish ones to smithereens."
"That's your explanation. What's his?" She nods her head towards the boy who is at the Marina's edge greeting the people.
"Beats the hell out of me. His mother despises me so Colton says, and his dad died years ago so I'm told. Anyway, I don't know one, and didn't know the other. Don't much care. Anyway, whatever bug you have up your ass today, please bury it. We got high paying customers coming."
"I was only teasing."
"Yeah, I know. Now, scoot. Put your things away then join me on the bridge and we'll take her out. Luv ya."
"Me too."
I think.
CHAPTER 24
The afternoon fishing goes better than expected. Both ladies and gents fish, have fun, and catch enough flounder for dinner, and the limit in weak and blues. The latter will be filleted and packed in ice by Colton for the two couples to take home. The wind picks up late in the day causing the bay to become choppy, however the Wanderer handles it easily and dinner on the salon deck is most enjoyable for the customers. The breeze keeps the Jersey Skeeters away, the bock beer baked flounder is delicious and the after dinner drinks at sunset are relaxing.
Sean continues with the evening cruise portion of the trip, keeping an eye on the increasing storm clouds and the building wave height in the bay. His timing is impeccable in that he brings the Wanderer back to port as advertised at 10PM, beating the rain. Thunder is booming and lightening flashing in the east out over the ocean. It will be on the island and bay quicker than a hare can race for its hole.
Once the Wanderer is in and tied up for the night, the two couples sprint to their cars and depart. They'll have the storm at their backs when heading home and hopefully will have the hare's luck to their hole. Sean, Rachael and Colton clean up the boat quickly, but saving some for the morrow, and the boy races home on this bike, pumping madly to beat the storm.
Sean's dock phone rings. He answers, "Wanderer, Sean Gallagher. Can I help you?"
"Is Colton there?"
"No, he should be home now. Can I help?"
Click. The vice and breathing gone. Sean looks at the silent phone, shrugs, and hangs up. He mutters, "Woman. Musta been his mother. Damn, she must hate me not to even chat." He races over to the restaurant to take a quick check. It looks good. Things moving along quicker than anticipated. The kitchen is completed. Walls, windows, lighting, flooring and carpeting finished in the bar area and main dining area. Needs only the finishing touches of booths, bar tops in both areas, tables and chairs, draperies and such. He thinks out loud. "Time to start hiring, call that food and beverage lead back . . . he sounded upscale, older, possibly ready to slow down some." He hears another rumble of thunder, a crack actually, and hustles back outside and to the boat. Sees Rachael standing on the salon deck watching the storms.
Sean climbs aboard and scampers up to the salon deck and Rachael. She says, "I was beginning to get worried. Do we stay aboard or go somewhere else?"
"No, we stay aboard. Perfectly okay. This isn't bad, just not good to be out at sea in it, that's all."
"What are we going to do this evening?"
"I don't know. Stay in the suite. Will be too windy and wet on the after deck. Play some gin? Talk? Relax. Go to bed later . . . might actually get some rest."
Rachael wrinkles her nose and says, "I don't play cards. Is that okay?"
"Sure, we'll watch some TV if I can get decent reception. If not, have a drink and chat. Whatever you want. Any suggestions?"
"How about we get showered, then have a drink, relax, and chat?"
"Sounds like a--"
"Plan." She smiles, crooks her index finger at Sean and starts strolling seductively toward the master suite and shower.
He follows willingly, actually moving quicker than her stroll. When he catches up, he captures her around the waist and k
isses her on the neck. "Game time."
"Yep. Kick or receive?" she coos.
"Makes no difference to me."
"I'll receive. I've waited all afternoon and evening for this."
They strip nude, clothes strewn behind before they reach the shower.
* * *
Holli is in the kitchen cleaning up. Colt had eaten on the boat so he isn't hungry when he arrives home just before the cloudburst drops a torrent of water on Harvey Cedars. He puts his bike in the garage and comes into the house from there. He sits with his mother while she eats and he fills her ears with stories of the day, which means remarks about the woman and Gallagher. Holli finally says, "Colt, enough already about those two. Was the fishing good?" Her diversionary question is successful and he spends the rest of her dinner time talking of the fish the customers caught that afternoon and where . . . and how well the Wanderer handled the wind and choppy bay water. Then, tired, he goes up to bed. No hangin' with the guys tonight. Too much storm and too tired.
After dinner, Holli makes herself a Scotch on the Rocks and folds herself gently into her favorite chair in the living room. She scans the brief portfolio she is going to show the Waters woman in the morning. Satisfied, takes another sip of her scotch and breathes a sigh of relief, or is it a release of anxiety. Her mind wanders.
His voice had sounded so good. Confident and strong. Perhaps a bit deeper baritone range to it. Certainly a sound of maturity. I wonder if he recognized my voice? Probably not. Maybe? And if he did, what then?
She shakes her head, takes another sip from her glass, picks up her book, the best seller for the last fifteen or so weeks, Love Story by Erich Segal, and opens it at the marker. Takes another sip and settles back in the chair, leaning slightly towards the lamp's light that empties out from under the shade. A crack of thunder startles her for a second; she snuggles deeper in the chair and continues. She's seen the movie and the famous line comes to her mind immediately.
* * *
Home is a Long Time Ago Page 17