House on the Beach

by Linda Barrett

  Then, unexpectedly, she was free.

  They stared at each other and neither of them moved. The only sound in the night was their labored breathing.

  Finally Matt spoke, his voice raspy. “I’m leaving now, Laura. Idiot that I am, I’m not prepared tonight.”

  She turned her head. “What did…? Prepared? Oh. Neither am I.” Still in a daze, she entered the house.

  Matt walked to his van, his mind in turmoil. She wasn’t prepared. In what way? Women were so hard to figure out, much harder than men. Anyone would have understood that Matt had been talking about not having birth control protection with him.

  But Laura’s “Neither am I” could mean something else entirely. Such as, she wasn’t emotionally prepared to make love yet.

  He could handle that. If that was what she meant. But how could he know for sure? She was so responsive to him. Kissing her was as wonderful as listening to a gorgeous symphony. They blended with each other. Everything worked. Making full love to her was going to be…like…like Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture. Melodic, but powerful. Cymbals clashing, cannon roaring.

  He jumped into the car and tried desperately to turn his mind onto something else.

  LAURA STOOD at the rail of the ferry on Thursday morning, focusing all her energy on the audition. Matt had picked up the kitten the night before, had kissed Laura hard on the mouth and wished her luck. She’d been a bit distracted, and he’d probably picked up on her vibes. Her concentration had been on Snow White and Sunrise Books.

  Laura clasped her tote bag tightly. She wanted her career back and was willing to work for it. She also wanted her relationship with Matthew Parker to keep growing. She wanted it all!

  Just for an instant, she pictured Matt in her mind’s eye. A moving picture, because he was rarely still. His teasing grin, his powerful legs jogging alongside her on the beach, the way those legs looked inside his faded jeans…

  Shoot! Think about Doc, Grumpy and Sneezy.

  She forced herself to concentrate on the characters, and in less time than she could imagine, she’d entered the building where the recording studio was located, where she was about to compete with serious talent. No matter. She took a deep breath, raised her chin and smiled at the woman behind the reception desk.

  “Good morning,” she said. “I’m Laura McCloud.”

  The woman’s eyes sparkled, and she picked up the phone. “Bill, Laura McCloud’s here. I hope she’s at least as good as her demo.” The woman stood up and held out her hand. “I’m Susan Starr from Sunrise Books. I really liked your demo tape. Break a leg in there, will you?”

  Laura grinned at the theatrical phrase for “good luck,” and her spirits soared. “Thanks. I hope I do.”

  Almost immediately, she found herself shaking hands with the studio director, conversing with him and the other members of the recording staff. The greetings were more than mere chitchat. She knew they were taking her measure, listening to her voice, her command of the language, even judging her intelligence.

  Laura knew that the production of an audio book was a group effort combining art and science, and success depended on all elements coming together. Although the production schedule called for the twelve books by the end of the summer, the publisher would not sacrifice quality of narration. They’d keep auditioning until they found the reader they wanted. This was business. Big business. And Laura was ready to be a player.

  Moments later, she was in the comfortable recording booth where the lighting, temperature and humidity were controlled. Three people would be listening to her delivery, including Susan Starr from Sunrise Books. Laura put on her headset, reached into her tote for her marked-up copy of the script and took a sip of water. Upon cue, she began to read. And felt herself change into character again and again. She sneezed. She yawned. She spoke to a mirror.

  The director’s voice did not come through the headphones to stop her, and she told the entire story without interruption. A good sign. When it was over, he gave her a thumbs-up and then asked her to repeat portions and exaggerate voices. Either she’d missed the mark on some of the characters, or he wanted to see if she could take direction without getting flustered.

  “Beautiful performance, Ms. McCloud,” he said afterward, walking toward her and extending his hand. “Excellent clarity and flow, great dialogue.” He asked her a few questions, then said, “We’ll be in touch with your agent as soon as we make a decision. Thanks very much for auditioning.”

  “You’re more than welcome,” Laura replied with enthusiasm. “I was delighted with the opportunity. In fact, I had a good time.”

  She left the studio hoping she had a fair shot at the job. She’d felt comfortable throughout the audition, but the director was the only one to chat with her after the reading. The woman from Sunrise hadn’t even said goodbye. Was that a bad sign?

  The afternoon sunshine greeted her as she made her way to her brick ranch-style home in Boston. No time to wonder about the audio books. Practicing tomorrow’s scripts for the department-store account would consume the rest of her day in town. How ironic to have two big recording dates in a row after having so little for so long. She’d call Norman as soon as she got home. He’d be waiting to hear about the audition.

  An hour later, she walked inside her house and immediately started opening windows. The place needed airing. Next time she came in, she’d call a cleaning service. They’d strip all the beds, vacuum the rooms. Dust and polish everything. And Laura would force herself to box up her mom’s clothes for donation to charity. Procrastinating would not make the sad chore easier.

  She went into her bedroom, kicked off her shoes and lay on the bed, wanting to relax for a moment before she called her agent. She closed her eyes. “Just for a minute,” she murmured.

  The ringing telephone jarred her awake. She fumbled for the receiver.

  “I hear you’re back in civilized territory,” said Norman Cohen.

  “Hi, Norman.” She yawned between words. “I must have dozed off. But I think the audition went fairly well. The director seemed to like me.”

  “I know.”

  Silence. “How could you know anything? I just left them a little while ago.” She glanced at her watch. “Okay, three hours ago.”

  “And I got a call five minutes ago.”

  Laura’s breath caught in her throat. She wasn’t expecting such swift feedback. Wasn’t prepared for either victory or defeat.

  “Congratulations, my dear. You are now the voice of Sunrise Book’s youngest reader division. We’ve got contract details to work out, but it’s yours.”

  “It is? Are you sure? My God, Norman! I wasn’t expecting…it’s so soon. But it’s wonderful. Thank you for suggesting it. And now I have to call Matt.”

  “Wait a second. Don’t you want to know what they said?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Think about this, Laura. They said your voice had the lyrical quality they were looking for. You’ve got the kind of voice children take to.”

  Casey’s image appeared in her mind. Matt’s son had attached himself to her immediately. And she to him. Her heart warmed as she thought of him. “I love kids, Norman. Maybe reading to them at the library made a difference in my delivery. They gave me immediate feedback just by being themselves.”

  “Well, something worked, Laura. Everything worked. Now, don’t let success go to your head. Tomorrow’s another day that’ll help fill your bank account.”

  “Yours, too, my friend,” she teased, knowing he was worth every percentage point she paid him.

  “You better believe it. Now, tell me. Who’s Matt?”

  She chuckled at his question. Norman never hesitated to mix business and personal stuff with her. But how should she explain Matt? “I knew him when I was a kid. He’s a nice guy.”

  “What do you mean, nice? When do I meet him?”

  She had to laugh. Norman was doing a fairly good suspicious-father impersonation.

  “I’m a big g
irl now, Norman.”

  “Not so big, and not so old,” he replied quietly. “Not from my perspective. I’ve got daughters your age. Bring him to dinner…you know Phyllis will be insulted if you don’t.”

  She was touched by his concern, but had to swallow her amusement as Norman tried to bully her by hiding behind his wife. “Dinner. I promise…when the time is right.”

  “Does this mean you’re not moving back to town?”

  She didn’t know the true answer to that one. At least not yet. “Not a day before my lease is up in Pilgrim Cove.”

  “I hear you,” said the agent.

  “Good night, Norman.” Laura replaced the receiver and immediately picked it up again and dialed Matt’s house. He should have been home by then unless one of the boys had a baseball game.

  The phone rang twice before it was picked up. “Hi-i.”

  “Casey! Hi. It’s Laura.”

  “Laura? G-g-good. C-c-can you c-c-come to my-y game?”

  “I’d love to,” she replied, her heart stirred by his efforts. “When is it?”

  “S-S-Sun-day.”

  She heard noises in the background. Then Casey’s voice as if from a distance. “Dad. It’s Lau-ra. She-e’s coming t-to my g-game.”

  “Casey, don’t bother her with that. She may have other plans.”

  Surprised at his words and his clipped tone, Laura prepared to set him straight as soon as he came on the phone.

  “Hi, Laura. You beat me to it. How was your day? How was the audition?” His voice was certainly warm with her.

  “He wasn’t annoying me, Matt,” she replied, “so don’t scold him. I’d love to go to his game. It’s important to him.”

  “I know that. I just don’t want him to assume…to get too used to…too close to…”

  Her heart almost stopped at his unexpected words. She could fill in the blanks. “Are you saying, Matt, that you don’t want me around your children anymore? You think I would hurt them?” With all her vocal training, she couldn’t hide the pain in her voice. She didn’t put on acts with people she loved and trusted.

  “I didn’t mean that,” Matt protested. “I just meant…you’ve got other things going on. Hell, I don’t know what I meant. I don’t want to hurt you. It’s just that my kids like you a lot.”

  “And that’s bad? But I like them, too, Matt. Very much. I don’t understand.” This was too important to allow for a misunderstanding.

  Silence at the other end. A deep silence. Then, “Sweetheart, I think my foot got caught in my mouth. The boys and I would be delighted for you to come with us to Casey’s game.”

  One word. It only took one word to make her relax again. Sweetheart. Commonplace, but powerful.

  “And I’ll be delighted to come and cheer every inning. Oh, my goodness,” she added as a thought struck her. “We really do have a Casey at the bat, don’t we?”

  Matt’s laughter came through the wires, loud and clear. “More like a Bad News Bear, if you ask me.”

  “Well, I’m sure they’ll try hard. I’m looking forward to Sunday.”

  “And I’m looking forward to tomorrow night when you’re back and I’m holding you again.” His voice was soft, low and full of meaning.

  “Me, too, Matt. Me, too.”

  “Okay then. See you soon. Sleep well.”

  She hung up the receiver in a thoughtful mood, replaying the whole conversation in her mind. And then realized she’d never told him her big news. Somehow, Casey had seemed more important.

  The sound of the phone startled her. “Hello.”

  “I forgot to ask about the audition,” Matt said without preamble. “Has Snow White got a voice yet?”

  “She sure does. Compliments of Laura McCloud. I’m still floating.”

  “Fantastic! You’re the best. You know what? They’re the lucky ones. Every little kid in America is going to want your stories!” His unabated enthusiasm had her blinking away sudden tears.

  “Is that an unbiased opinion?” she managed to tease.

  “Absolutely.” But he was laughing and she found herself joining in, feeling renewed. Confident. Just like she used to be before the bad times started. The old Laura was back! Ready to handle anything. Ready to take chances.

  MATT PACED the dock, a bouquet of long-stemmed red roses in hand. Where the hell was the ferry? He glanced at his watch and groaned. Six-fifteen. Another fifteen minutes to go. The rest of the world seemed to be on schedule. It was he who was topsy-turvy.

  “Hey, Matt.”

  Matt pivoted to see Chief O’Brien walking his way. Rick’s smile got broader as his glance moved between the roses and Matt’s face.

  Just what he needed. More food for the ROMEOs to chew on. Matt transferred the bouquet to one hand and held up the other with a policeman’s stop motion.

  “This meeting is a figment of your imagination,” Matt declared. “You never saw me. I figure one good turn deserves another.” He held the cop’s glance as best he could while the Chief began to laugh.

  “Red roses, huh? Does this mean you’re in the doghouse or just in love?”

  “I seem to remember a few hangdog looks on your face over time, Chief.”

  “Not anymore.” Chief O’Brien nodded at the approaching boat. “She’s a lovely woman. Good luck, son.” He started walking away, then turned. “By the way…this conversation never happened.”

  Now Matt grinned and nodded his head before casting his eyes on the incoming ferry and the woman waving to him from the rail. The Chief, his dad, the rest of the world faded from his mind. All he wanted to focus on was standing twenty-five yards in front of him. Then she walked down the ramp onto the dock and straight into his arms.

  “Funny,” he whispered, as she leaned against him, “how you were the one on the boat, but it’s me who feels like I’ve just come home.”

  She peeped up at him, tears welling in her blue eyes, her arms still wrapped around his waist. “Maybe home is wherever the right person is.”

  “Then we’re both home,” he said softly.

  He kissed her lightly on the lips, and finally presented the roses. “In honor of your success and in apology for my concerns yesterday. I’m very glad you’re in my life.”

  “Thanks, Matthew,” said Laura bending her head to sniff the fragrance of the flowers. “They’re absolutely beautiful.”

  Not as beautiful as you are. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d given flowers to anyone. But looking at the glowing picture Laura made with the roses, he vowed to shower her with bouquets for no other reason than the pleasure of watching her delight.

  “Can you have dinner with me now?” he said as they walked to the parking lot. “I’ll follow you back to Sea View House, and we can go from there.”

  “Just you and I?” she asked. “No surprise guests?”

  He nodded. “No kids, no parents, no friends. At least not at our table. Total privacy can be elusive at The Lobster Pot.”

  “This is Pilgrim Cove, Matt. It can’t be any other way!”

  “You don’t mind?” he asked.

  “Not at all. Part of the charm of a small town.”

  “That charm can be overwhelming at times,” he said, a note of warning in his voice.

  “Well, Matt, nothing’s perfect.”

  She was wrong about that. She was perfect for him.

  When they walked through the back door at Sea View House, Matt said, “I’m going to check out the upstairs apartment while you do whatever it is you have to do. Bart left a message that The Crow’s Nest is rented for the summer. A professor from California.”

  “Summer? Time’s flying, isn’t it?” said Laura.

  He heard the trace of anxiety in her voice and lay the roses on the kitchen table before reaching for her. He held her against him, rocking her gently. “We’re in charge of our own timeline, sweetheart. Even though Sea View House is special, there are other rentals on the beach, if it comes to that.”

  He felt her body relax.
Good. She didn’t need any additional stress in her life.

  A half hour later, Matt was back in Laura’s kitchen having entered The Crow’s Nest from the separate side entrance. He had a report of his findings ready for Bart Quinn.

  “I’ll be right there.” Laura’s voice from the bedroom reached him faintly just before she joined him. Blond tendrils around her face, crisp jeans, boots and a long navy turtleneck sweater that hugged her every curve. Large gold hoop earrings and a gold chain belt around her hips completed the picture.

  “This is dressy enough for The Lobster Pot, isn’t it?” she asked.

  Matt gulped and nodded. Couldn’t say a thing because his tongue wouldn’t work. He took a deep breath and escorted her to the SUV.

  Once in the restaurant, Matt gave up on any privacy at all. Maggie Sullivan greeted them at the door like long-lost friends, and her husband, Tom, found time to chat with Laura. Tom Sullivan helped out at The Lobster Pot on weekends when he wasn’t coaching a high school team.

  Then Bart Quinn showed up with Lila and Katie, who wanted to know where Brian and Casey were. Thea Cavelli, Maggie’s sister and partner, stopped by to say hello. Seemed like it was a Quinn-Sullivan-Cavelli night.

  Matt looked at Laura and shrugged his shoulders. “Can’t do a damn thing about it,” he said.

  “It’s fine, Matt. I like it.”

  He felt his eyebrows touch the ceiling.

  “No, really,” explained Laura. “Boston has lots more people, but you can feel lost in a crowd. At The Lobster Pot, everyone knows your name. It’s just like the old television show, Cheers. It’s comfortable here.”

  “Part of that small-town charm?” He smiled, tossing her words back at her.

  “Exactly.” She pointed to her empty soup bowl. “And look, all our company hasn’t interfered with my appetite in any way.”

  He nodded, although for the first time in his life, he barely tasted his lobster dinner. How could he, when Laura held him mesmerized, her tongue brushing her lips with each bite of lobster meat, a trace of butter glistening against her skin. He inhaled deeply as his imagination took flight. There were other places for her tongue.

  Finally he leaned across the table, placed his fingers under her chin and kissed her. Thoroughly.