At Last (The Idle Point, Maine Stories)

by Bretton, Barbara

  "You don't have to do this," Ben said in a voice thick with booze and despair.

  "Sure I do." She kept her hand firmly on his head. "I'm in nursing school. I need the practice."

  Ben grunted something but she paid no attention. Activity swirled around her. Pained glances. Clucks of disapproval. Familiar whispers. The usual responses when they saw her with a man. She couldn't blame them. She had given them plenty to cluck and whisper about over the years. Not that she was apologizing for anything because she wasn't. She made her choices, continued to make them, and they were nobody's business but her own.

  "Where's Gracie?" Ben asked. "I want to see Gracie."

  "She's gone," Laquita said quietly. "Did you really think she'd stay around after you slapped her?"

  His moan of anguish tore at her heart. "I have to find her... apologize—"

  "That will have to wait. She's not here and you're in no shape to go traipsing off looking for her. Besides, I don't think she wants to see your face right about now."

  He twisted away from her and squinted in her general direction. "Who the hell are you anyway?"

  "Laquita Adams," she said calmly. "Oldest of Rachel and Darnell's twelve kids."

  "You mean the hippie family by the river?"

  She sighed. She would have to move to Timbuktu in order to escape it. "We like to think of ourselves as homesteaders."

  "Homesteaders," he repeated. "And I'm a social drinker."

  She couldn't help it. She laughed. Not loudly, not enough to draw any more attention to herself, but she laughed. Maybe her instincts weren't wrong after all. There just might be something there worth saving.

  Chapter Nine

  Three days after Gramma Del's funeral Gracie and Noah drove down to Portland to apply for their marriage license. They brought their birth certificates and drivers' licenses with them then waited patiently on line while other happy couples went through the process ahead of them. When it was their turn they filled out the forms, paid the fee, then waited for the clerk to hand over their future.

  "There's a forty-eight hour waiting period." The clerk took a second look at their application then put it aside. "Best of luck, folks."

  "You can still change your mind," Noah said as they stepped out into the sunshine. "That's only a license, not a marriage certificate."

  "I'll never change my mind about you," Gracie said, then kissed him right there on the top step to prove it.

  Three office workers on break burst into applause. Noah grabbed Gracie's hand and they dashed down the steps in search of a lobster shack where they could have a cheap lunch. They needed every cent they could find to fund their plane fare to Paris.

  The funny thing was that she believed in him. No matter how many times he screwed up, she went on believing. Even he couldn't manage that. Gracie would have to believe hard enough for both of them.

  They ordered lunch at a lobster shack near the docks. "Almost as good as they make back home," Gracie said which made Noah laugh. She thought everything was better at Idle Point. Their haddock and chips were served on paper plates which they carried over to a wooden picnic table. Businessmen in suits wolfed down lobster rolls, leaning forward so they wouldn't spill mayonnaise on their fancy clothing. A trio of young women in shorts and halter tops eyed the men as they waited for their sandwiches. They were probably the same age as Noah and Gracie but they looked so much younger. Neither one of them had ever been young quite like that.

  They ate quietly, both overcome by the significance of the piece of paper tucked away in Gracie's huge leather tote bag.

  Gracie had walked through the last few days suspended somewhere between terror and elation. In the blink of an eye, her dreams of a happy family had vanished and she was forced to see her life for what it really was. Gramma was gone. Ben didn't give a damn if his daughter lived or died. He loved a bottle of booze more than he loved his own flesh and blood. Idle Point no longer seemed like home. School couldn't fill the empty jagged hole inside her heart.

  Only Noah could do that.

  She had loved him for so long. She couldn't remember a time when he hadn't been part of her life. He knew all of her secrets. He understood her dreams. He believed in her the way nobody but Gramma Del ever had. They wouldn't end up being one of those couples whose dreams withered and died in the face of day-to-day reality. They wouldn't let that happen. There was room enough in this world for both of their dreams. They were young and they had time to make them all come true. How could you go wrong if you followed your heart?

  #

  "You're not paying attention, Chase." Joe from Production said with a note of exasperation in his voice. "You type in the slug lines the way I showed you; the codes fill in automatically."

  It was only the tenth time Joe had told Noah how to key in his story.

  "Sorry," Noah said. "I've got it now."

  "What the hell's with you anyway? Your body's here but your brain is sure as hell someplace else."

  "One of those days," Noah mumbled, pretending great interest in the words on his screen. He was finding it tough to care about the 32nd Annual Labor Day Weekend Festival hosted by the Kiwanis Club when in less than six hours he and Gracie would be getting married.

  They had it planned down to the minute. Some of Gracie's old high school friends were throwing a beach party to celebrate the start of her first year in veterinary school. Gracie managed somehow to be a popular loner, a trick Noah had never quite understood. While their friends built the barbecue pit and carted the cases of beer down to the beach, he and Gracie would be on their way to get married.

  Gracie would meet him out at the edge of town at five o'clock in the motel parking lot out past the lighthouse. Together they would drive north to a little Unitarian Church where a minister named Bo, brother of Noah's B.U. roommate, would perform the ceremony as a favor.

  She was giving up so much to be with him that it scared the hell out of Noah. She had made his dreams come true. Now all he had to do was figure out a way to return that favor every day for the rest of her life.

  #

  Gracie finished packing her bags around three o'clock. She had stuffed her favorite books into the corners of her backpack and along the bottom of her suitcase, layered with photos of Gramma Del and her mother Mona. She wanted to take nothing of Ben with her to her new life. The memories were more than enough.

  He was gone again, most likely off on another drunk. She hadn't seen him since that moment when he'd slapped her at the cemetery and the last shred of compassion she felt for him disappeared. There was something to be said for closure. She believed now that there was no hope for them to ever be more than strangers to each other. He would never, could never, be the father she'd longed for all her life.

  She had thought she would feel enormous sadness saying goodbye to the only home she had ever known but she didn't. She felt nothing at all. Not happiness. Not relief. Not even a bittersweet sense of regret. Without Gramma Del, it was nothing but a house and she couldn't wait to be gone. She tried not to think about school and her scholarship and all of the plans she had made to come back to Idle Point and work with Doctor Jim as his partner. She told herself it would all work out the way it was meant to. All that mattered was being with Noah.

  Sam the Cat meowed and twined herself between Gracie's ankles. Sam was going on fifteen years old. Her eyesight was dimming with age. Her old bones ached on cold mornings. Sam the Cat had been Gramma Del's companion the last few years while Gracie was at school, spending long sunny afternoons curled up next to Del on the feather bed by the window. Gracie was horrified to realize she had forgotten all about her old friend.

  "Oh, Sammy!" She bent down to pick up the cat and cradled her close. "I've been so caught up in my own life I forgot all about you."

  She couldn't leave the poor cat alone in the house with only Ben to depend on for food and water. She couldn't board Sam at the animal hospital without a lot of explanation and a fair amount of guilt. She just plain
couldn't leave Sam.

  "So how do you feel about Paris?" she asked. "I'm not sure they have Whiskas over there but I guess we can figure it out as we go along." She had never been good at being impulsive or spontaneous. It unnerved her that Sam had slipped somehow through the cracks. That kind of thing never happened to Gracie. She loved detailed master plans that included back-up plans, contingency plans to the back-up plans, and additional plans for any and all emergencies that might crop up along the way.

  She checked Gramma Del's pantry and found an even dozen cans of cat food plus two boxes of dry. They used to keep the cat carrier in the tool shed but that was before Ben took the shed over for his tools and other equipment. She rummaged through Gramma's two closets then ran back across to the main house to check the basement. She had barely let herself in the front door when she heard the sound of a car approaching. She knew it wouldn't be Noah. Oh God, please don't let it be her father. She wasn't looking for a confrontation with him. All she wanted was to walk away from the mess he'd made of his own life and build something fine and wonderful and lasting with Noah.

  She parted the yellow-and-orange curtains and peered out the kitchen window. A shiny silvery-grey Lincoln Town Car was pulling into the driveway next to her Mustang. The contrast between the cars was laughable. She only knew one person who drove a car like that.

  She could actually hear her heartbeat pulsing in her ears, at the base of her throat, deep inside her chest. She tried to pull in a deep breath but she was trembling so hard it was almost impossible. A coincidence, that's all it was. Simon Chase couldn't possibly know about the elopement. She and Noah had gone to great lengths to keep their plans secret. Not even the almighty owner of the Gazette could have ferreted out the truth.

  Noah! What if something had happened to Noah, some terrible accident like the one that had killed her mother, and Simon was here to tell her about it. What was wrong with her? She was letting her imagination run wild when all she had to do was open the front door and ask him what he wanted.

  "Good afternoon, Graciela." Simon was tall and spare with a thick head of snowy white hair that sparkled in the sunlight. She looked into his brown eyes but couldn't see any of Noah's goodness reflected back.

  She tried that deep breath one more time. You're as good as any of them, Graciela, and don't you forget that.

  "What can I do for you, Mr. Chase?"

  "I was sorry to learn of Cordelia's passing."

  "Thank you."

  "She was a good woman."

  "Yes," Gracie said, "she was."

  "Did you get our flowers?"

  "We did," she said. "I mailed a thank you this morning." My manners are impeccable, Mr. Chase. My grandmother, your cook, saw to that.

  "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

  Not if I can help it. "Do you need to use the phone?" I'll bring it out to you.

  "I would like to talk with you, Graciela, and I'm afraid the hot sun is too intense for me these days." An allusion, no doubt, to his heart attacks and compromised health.

  "Please." She stepped aside. "Come in."

  He nodded but his expression never altered. For a man suffering from the heat, he seemed cool and perfectly controlled.

  "Please sit down," she said, gesturing toward the couch with the pale blue sheet tossed over it to hide the tears. "Would you care for some iced tea? Pepsi? Lemonade?"

  "Water would be fine."

  Water. Leave it to him to ask for water, the one thing she hadn't offered. "Be right back."

  Seconds later she returned with a glass of iced water. She wasn't about to give him a chance to go poking around in there alone.

  "Here you go."

  "Thank you." He took one sip then placed the glass on the coffee table in front of him. "Please sit, Graciela."

  "I'd rather stand."

  "I would feel more comfortable if you sat down while we talk."

  That's exactly why I want to stand. She hesitated then sat on the arm of the chair across from him. Sam the Cat strolled into the room. Sam was very friendly by nature but she gave Simon Chase a wide berth. Smart cat, Gracie thought. There was nothing warm or comfortable about Noah's father. He was the stranger in her house yet he somehow made her feel as if she was the one who didn't belong.

  She folded her hands on her lap so he wouldn't notice that she was trembling. "What is it you want to talk about?" It was almost three-thirty. She had a million things to do before she met Noah at the outskirts of town.

  "You haven't had an easy life, have you, Graciela."

  She frowned at him. "Is that a question?"

  "Perhaps," he said, "but I would say it is a fact. Life hasn't been particularly kind to you."

  "I have no complaints." Her throat felt tight. She had to force the words past her lips.

  "No, you never did complain, did you. That's an admirable trait."

  "My grandmother taught me how to stay focused."

  He nodded. "Cordelia was a remarkable woman."

  Gracie shifted position. "Is this going somewhere, Mr. Chase, because if not maybe we could—"

  "I know about the wedding."

  Simon's words hit her harder than her father's slap. Her world telescoped down to sound of those words. Everything else faded to black. It occurred to her that he might be bluffing, that he had a suspicion but nothing concrete, and he was simply trying to trick her into betraying her own secret.

  She said nothing. Let him spell it out for her.

  "I have friends in Portland," he said. "One of them called me this morning. Do you know which department she works in?"

  Gracie still said nothing.

  He leaned forward and reached into the breast pocket of his navy blazer. She watched as he withdrew a sheet of paper and unfolded it.

  "I have a copy of a marriage license," he said, "for Graciela Marie Taylor and Noah Marlow Chase, three day waiting period, valid for ninety days in the state of Maine."

  "I love Noah," she said quietly. What else was there to say to a man she barely knew who was about to become her father-in-law.

  His expression seemed equal parts sorrow and dislike. She wasn't sure which part worried her more.

  "This is, of course, a terrible mistake."

  "We don't think so."

  "You're both very young." He gestured with large elegant hands, tanned from the sun and spotted by age. "Much too young to marry."

  "We disagree."

  "Of course you would," he said, favoring her with a smile. "That is why I'm here, Graciela, to explain it to you."

  She stood up. "I think you should go now."

  He stayed seated. "I have more to say."

  "I'm sorry, Mr. Chase, but I don't want to hear it. If you have something to say, you should say it to Noah and me together."

  "You're an intelligent young woman," he said. "You seem to have your life planned out."

  "I'm ambitious, if that's what you mean."

  "My son isn't."

  "I know that."

  "If you two run off and get married, I'll cut him off without a cent."

  She forced a laugh. "Look around you, Mr. Chase. Being poor is hardly something new for me."

  "It would be something new for Noah."

  "I think you underestimate him, Mr. Chase."

  "You don't sound confident."

  "You should go now. I don't want to have this conversation."

  "Neither do I, Graciela, but it's necessary."

  She watched as he again reached into the inside pocket of his blazer. This time he withdrew an envelope.

  "Here," he said. "This is for you." Her name was written across the front in thick black ink.

  She wrapped her arms around her chest. "No, thank you."

  "Ten thousand dollars," he said. "In cash."

  "A wedding gift?"

  "You have a sense of humor. A thank-you for calling off the wedding."

  "You're trying to buy me off."

  "Yes," he said, "I am. Take the money a
nd go back to school. I'll take care of the rest."

  "And what about Noah," she asked. "Doesn't he have a say in this?"

  "Not in this. This, Graciela, is between you and me."

  She took a step back. She hadn't meant to; that step betrayed too much. She had the sense of being at the edge of a cliff and the only way was down.

  "I really think you should leave now."

  "I haven't finished what I came here to say."

  "Yes, you have, Mr. Chase. I shouldn't have let you say as much as you did."

  He was sweating. My God, the cool, calm Yankee patriarch had broken into a sweat around his hairline. Somehow that scared Gracie more than anything he had said so far.

  "There are things you don't know about the past."

  "I know everything I need to know."

  "You don't know about your mother."

  Her breath caught. "Noah told me you dated my mother in high school."

  "I loved her." His voice sounded different, softer and laced with pain. For a moment he almost sounded human to Gracie.

  "D-did she love you?"

  He smiled but the smile wasn't meant for Gracie. It was meant for someone long gone, never forgotten. It was meant for the love of his life. He didn't have to say a word for Gracie to know that and more and she turned away.

  "She loved me," he said, his words finding her as she walked toward the kitchen. "She loved me the way a man dreams of being loved: heart, soul, and mind." His footsteps followed her. "Is that the way you love my son? Would you follow him anywhere, do anything, be all that he needed you to be?"

  "Yes," she whispered, keeping her back turned to him.

  "I see Mona in you," he said. "Your walk, the way you carry yourself."

  "I look nothing like her."

  "I didn't say you did. Your mother was beautiful—"

  "Thanks," she snapped. "How kind of you to remind me."

  "You have your own charm, Graciela. More subtle, perhaps, but it's there."