A white blinding rage blistered its way into his head. “What are you talking about? You don’t know anything about this!” He was trying not to shout, but his face was red hot and his body was shaking. He slammed his coffee cup onto the tabletop, sloshing coffee onto the nearest plate.
Cindy stared at him, her body taut and readied for a fight. “Kevin and me, maybe we’re in a bit of a hard spot now, but I’ve worked hard. I’ve fought my way through a lot. But her, Dad, sure she’d got looks, but what else? She’s just a pretty girl, sitting out there making pots for God’s sake, and expecting you to take care of her. She’s pitiful.” Nick’s hands balled into fists and his face burned red. He opened his mouth to speak, but Cindy cut him off.
“I saw the doctor’s bill. You’re paying for her stuff.”
He opened and closed his fists, breathing hard through his mouth. “I’m paying for your stuff too, Cindy. You’re sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. You don’t have a clue about what’s what between Cass and me. And you damn well better keep out of my mail and my business.” He glared at her, daring her to say another word. She stared back at him, lifting her chin, defiance sweeping across her face. The old Cindy was back.
He slammed open the front door and stomped towards his truck. As he hauled himself into the driver’s seat, he heard Kevin’s voice yell “Grandpa!” but he didn’t turn back. Right now, he just needed to get away.
***
Think, think, think. He scratches at his crotch, rubbing his sore shoulder against the corner of the cement block wall near the loading dock. It kind of hurt, but it was good too. He’s waited for the bitch long enough. It’s time to make a move.
He’d watched her last night. Now he had to be extra careful. The long days meant that he couldn’t see as well into her cabin at night, and she maybe could see him, outside, if she looked out. So he stayed very still, hunched in an alder thicket, fucking mosquitoes eating his face and ankles. She came out of the bathroom wrapped in some kind of big towel, barely over the top of her big breasts, and he’d swelled then, came up hard, and he’d wanted to push right in then, take her then. He snickers, thinking about it. She’ll be scared, yeah, but then, when he gets her down, when he gets inside of her… He likes it when she’s scared. He needs a plan.
He feels his crotch harden again, remembering last night, and he runs his tongue over his chapped lips. It stinks out here, of old food and piss, but they leave him alone. Think, he needs to think. Nick is still in the way, still comes by to see her. He’s a prick, thinks he’s better than everyone else. His anger flares and he pushes his shoulder harder into the rough sharp brick. He grins. Yeah, he’ll send Nick a message. Maybe even more than that.
Chapter 17
Dreamer bobbed restlessly in the harbor’s light chop as Nick stared out beyond the breakwater. The sky was clear, but the wind was up, and out there whitecaps dotted the waves. It wasn’t the best day to take Kevin and Cindy out on the boat for the first time, but he’d promised Kevin and Nick didn’t want to disappoint him. Nick had read the forecast, and it wasn’t too bad, mostly a stiff wind stirring up the surface a bit, and they didn’t have to stay out long, just long enough to give Kevin a little taste of the ocean.
He and Cindy had reached an unspoken truce. After he’d stormed out of the cabin in a deep red fury, he’d stayed away from them for a couple of days, taking some time to cool down. When he’d finally driven back over, on a morning so gusty and cold that it would count as a bitter winter day in most parts of the world, he found them huddled close beneath the quilt with a Winnie the Pooh book and mugs of hot chocolate. Kevin had squealed “Grandpa!” and tumbled from the bed, and Nick had taken him up in his arms, relishing the solid heft of him and the sweet, yeasty smell of his warm skin. He’d looked over at Cindy, and she’d nodded back curtly, warily, and that was that. In that moment, he understood that they would pretend, at least for the moment, that their last conversation had never taken place.
Today, Kevin was bundled up head to toe, from his navy blue wool watch cap and scarf wrapped around his face to his new, black, shiny rubber boots. Despite being swaddled in clothes, he managed to jump around the dock in excitement. His nose, barely poking out over the wool scarf, was already bright red and dripping a bit from the brisk breeze.
Cindy was bundled up too, but she huddled on the dock, rubbing her gloved hands together and stamping her feet. Nick glanced at her pinched face and worried that he’d pushed her a bit too much to come today. Maybe she was scared of the ocean, though he suspected she’d never admit it.
He grabbed Kevin and hauled him onto the boat deck, then offering Cindy a hand to come on board. Her steps were unsteady and she immediately sat down, pressing her hands against the wood bench. Kevin was thrumming with excitement. Nick pulled a new child-size life preserver over his head and snapped it closed. He’d bought it yesterday, not telling Cindy, fearing she might see it as a sign that he was expecting them to stay. He was tiptoeing around her, he knew, but he hadn’t figured out yet how to get beyond her prickly defensiveness.
He handed Cindy a life preserver and strapped on his own. She fumbled with the fasteners and he had to resist the urge to reach over and help her. She wasn’t a child, he reminded himself.
“We won’t stay out long, just maybe an hour or so.” Cindy nodded, her eyes narrowed, focused on the horizon. “It’s a little bit rough. I hope you don’t get seasick.”
Cindy bit her lip. “I don’t know. I’ve…never been on the ocean before. Well, in the ocean, yes, like swimming, but not on a boat.”
“Boat, boat, boat.” Kevin chanted happily, leaning over the side to look at the water. Nick grabbed the collar of his jacket.
“Whoa, Kevin, why don’t you go sit with your mother? We don’t want to have to fish you out of the drink.” Cindy reached for Kevin and pulled him close. Nick hurried to add, “Not that it’s likely to happen. Dreamer’s very stable. You’ll get used to the rocking. It’s perfectly normal.”
He revved up the engine and untied the boat, moving smoothly and efficiently as he always did. Dreamer was a sweet boat, not new, but he maintained her well, and she turned easily in the direction of the harbor mouth. In moments they were headed out into the bay, the fresh, clean air splashing into their faces, smelling of salt and seaweed, the quiet rumble of the engine playing against the whoosh of the little waves hitting the hull. Kevin laughed as they hit a wave sideways and a punch of ice cold spray dashed over them. Cindy seemed more relaxed, too, though she still kept one hand protectively planted on Kevin’s jacket. Nick scanned the water ahead, content.
Suddenly, a sputter, another sputter, and the engine’s steady rumble was gone. Nick frowned and moved quickly to restart the engine. And again. Nothing.
“What’s wrong?” Cindy’s voice was edged with panic, and she twisted to stare back at the distant shore. Without the forward push of the engine, Dreamer rocked more deeply in the ocean swells. Nick shook his head and swore under his breath. He went through the drill again, but still, nothing. He felt his forehead prick with sweat.
He couldn’t be out of gas. It just wasn’t possible. He opened the fuel fill and stared down at some sort of black plastic mess where he should be looking at only sloshing clear gas. What was going on?
“Damn, Cindy, I don’t know.” He took a deep breath. “Let me get on the radio. We’ll be fine, but it looks like we’re going to need some help.” He forced a smile. “We’re not in any danger. But something’s happened to the engine.”
***
Sergeant Williamson rocked back and forth on his feet in the tiny harbormaster’s office, his teardrop belly straining against the buttons of his blue uniform shirt.
“Guess it could have just been some sort of prank.”
“Prank? Dammit, Frank, I was out there on the water with my daughter and grandson. My family.” He wanted to hit something. No, he wanted to hit someone, whatever idiot was responsible for this.
After
the Coast Guard boat had towed them back to the harbor, Cindy was a little shaken, and Cindy and Kevin were both cold, but Kevin seemed delighted to be in the middle of an adventure. Cindy hadn’t said much. She scrambled off the boat onto the dock, making it clear that she was more than eager to be back on dry land. He’d driven them back to the cabin and built up the fire, then made them cups of hot chocolate, and he’d gone back to the harbor to meet the police.
Williamson continued to scribble on the form on his clipboard. “Well, you know the old trick. Take a full roll of electrical tape and smash it into the fuel fill. The fuel dissolves the adhesive and turns the tape into a sixty-foot-long piece of plastic that clogs the fuel intakes.” He paused, tapping his pen against the clipboard and staring at Nick. “Not rocket science.”
“I know, I know.” Nick scowled and turned towards the window. “And it’s not likely to clog right away. Sometimes takes days or weeks for the damage to be done.” He rubbed his forehead. “There’s no telling when it happened. Someone had to have the right key to access the fuel fill, but that’s not hard to get around.”
“Nick, anyone got a grudge against you?”
“What…no…I don’t think so.” Who would do something like this? Suddenly he connected the dots. “But Frank, someone slashed my tires a while ago, right when Cindy and Kevin showed up. I guessed it was just some stupid kids. Do you think…do you think the same person might be responsible?”
Williamson shrugged, using his pen to scratch behind his ear. “No idea, Nick. But it does seem a bit of a coincidence.”
Blood pounded in Nick’s head. Sure, he knew he was gruff sometimes, but he didn’t have any real enemies. Or did he? He’d been known to call someone a horse’s ass when they deserved it, and he didn’t mince words when he was upset, but this wasn’t a matter of losing a popularity contest. This was someone who had sabotaged his boat, and put his life in danger. And Cindy’s life too, and his grandson’s life, for Christ’s sake. He couldn’t think of anyone who was that pissed off at him. He balled his hands into fists while he waited for Williamson to finish scrawling down the information for the police report. If there was someone out there who had it in for him, who knew what they’d try next?
Chapter 18
Merry crouched between the shelves of barbecue accessories and furnace parts. Really Good Hardware wasn’t spacious by any measure, and its inventory was arranged in a manner that made no sense at all, except perhaps to Randy Bilkers, one of the third generation of Bilkers to own the store. It would probably have been easier to search for the brass fasteners Scary needed for his new project at the big box store at the edge of town, but Merry liked the small, messy store with its smell of dust and metal. She’d try here first. When the bell above the door heralded her arrival, Randy was busy at the front counter helping a fisherman select candy-colored lures and hooks, so Merry had wandered down to the end of one of the narrow aisles, brushing against cans of insect repellent and overhanging drop cloths along the way. It was like being on a scavenger hunt except that there wasn’t much there in the way of clues.
She fingered some steel fasteners on a bottom shelf that matched the description that Scary had given her. He was always secretive as he embarked on a new enterprise, but he’d been specific that they had to be brass. She had no idea why. She bit her lip and smiled. Maybe they had to be brass because Scary liked brass, and he wasn’t one to compromise easily.
The bell above the door clanged again, and footsteps shuffled down the aisle next to her. They stopped close by and the murmurings of a male voice and a female voice drifted her way.
The man was whispering, but she heard some of his words.
“We shouldn’t…what if she…”
The female voice was more of an urgent hiss, but the words didn’t carry over the aisle. Merry shifted uncomfortably, feeling like an eavesdropper but not sure she could gracefully move away.
The man’s voice again, still whispering, but a little louder. “It shouldn’t have happened. With the baby, she doesn’t have the time and energy, but still. You know we shouldn’t have done this.”
Again, a sibilant hiss of a response, unintelligible, and then a rustling, like the fabric of a jacket rubbing up against some metal pieces, clanging them together on the other side of the aisle.
“Antonia, just stop, will you!” The man’s voice was raised, impatient and clearly audible, and then two sets of footsteps, one right after the other, moving away, clanging the doorbell as they hurried outside.
Merry stayed where she was crouched, stunned. The faint scent of a heavy musk perfume and stale cigarette smoke wafted her way, carried on the draft from the door.
Oh my God. What on earth should she do now?
***
Merry dropped into the plastic chair near the Safeway coffee counter. The nearby aisles were bustling with morning shoppers pulling boxes and cans off the shelves and tossing various items into their shopping carts, but she was deep in her own thoughts and it was easy to ignore the noisy commotion swirling around her.
She frowned into her coffee cup. What on earth was the right thing to do?
Sabrina had to be told about Ren and Antonia, even if the conversation she’d overheard meant that Ren was intending to break things off with Antonia. But Sabrina was so young and vulnerable, so totally dependent upon Ren and the life they had built here for their little family. The pain and humiliation that would come from Sabrina’s learning about Ren and Antonia might destroy her, break her apart. Was there any way to cushion the blow, to encourage some sort of positive resolution? She stared into space and ignored her cooling coffee, sorting and discarding various options in her brain.
She wanted to protect and defend Sabrina, but she wanted to empower her too. She shook her head. Sabrina in many ways was like the way she had been, before Michael’s terrible betrayal and her journey into her life here. But Sabrina had Willy, and Sabrina was alight with an exuberant joy that Merry didn’t want to murder, or more accurately, let Ren and Antonia murder. Merry still remembered the horror and shock she had felt when she found out about Michael from a well-meaning friend.
There was no right answer.
After about an hour, jolted away from her thoughts by a group of rowdy teenagers who took over an adjacent table and were blowing paper straw covers at each other, she stood up slowly, absentmindedly wiping her table with her crumpled paper napkin on her way out.
She took a roundabout route back to Scary’s studio and a half hour later, she found herself at the entrance of the lumberyard where Ren was working. She scanned the lot and saw him immediately. He was just a few yards away, wrestling with some long, thick boards, loading them onto a wheeled cart. A customer stood nearby, waiting, staring at the cell phone in the palm of his hand. She paused by the yard fence and watched Ren, a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead, the determination in his expression as he balanced the awkward boards, the sprinkle of sawdust in his shaggy dark hair. He was built solid and strong, and he swung the heavy load around with apparent ease, carrying it and then dropping it with a clatter into the customer’s truck bed. She’d only spoken to him once or twice, in passing. He’d been pleasant enough, and even a bit bashful. He hardly seemed like a conniving Don Juan. He glanced up and noticed her standing there, and nodded over at her, his arms encircling another bunch of lumber. “I can help you in a minute, Merry,” he said, “I’m almost finished here.”
“No, no worries, Ren. I…don’t need help. Just wandering by.” She waved and turned quickly, walking away, not looking back.
She couldn’t put it off. She called Sabrina as soon as she got home, and asked her to come by the studio to help her with a display. Scary would watch Willy for a bit, Merry said, so they could concentrate.
There was no display. It was a lie, but a necessary one.
***
Scary was painting in the studio, and he barely looked up as Sabrina deposited a sleeping Willy, draped with blankets in his travel
carrier and accompanied by a voluminous diaper bag, on the couch near him. Merry and Sabrina walked down the road to the beach, where Merry said she would explain the display to Sabrina. They sat down side by side on a log and gazed out across the bay. Merry rehearsed words in her head, hurtful words she didn’t want to say, but must. Gulls were screaming and circling a spot where two currents met offshore, churning the water into chop. “There must be a school of fish there, maybe trapped by the tide,” Sabrina murmured, tilting her head to one side as a gull plummeted down into the water at breakneck speed. “I wonder what it looks like underneath. Do you think the fish know the birds are up there hunting?”
When Merry didn’t answer, Sabrina turned to face her, her forehead wrinkled with lines of concern. “Merry, are you okay? Is something wrong?”
Merry took a deep breath. There was no good way to start this conversation, but better to be up front and clear. Merry took Sabrina’s gloved hand and held it tightly. “Sabrina, I have some very bad news for you. I’m sorry, but I discovered, just by accident…that is, I have reason to believe…that Ren and Antonia are having an affair.”
All the color drained from Sabrina’s face. “What?” she whispered, “Ren…and Antonia?”
“Yes.” Sabrina’s hand was still interlinked with hers, but now it was curled into a vise-like grip. “Yes, I’m so sorry.” Quietly, in a very few words, Merry told her what she had seen and heard in the hardware store.
Sabrina sat absolutely still, her eyes brimming with tears. The wind coming off the water tangled strands of her long hair over her face.
“I’m sorry, Sabrina, but I don’t think the situation can be seen any other way.” Merry cast around desperately for the right words to say, knowing that there probably weren’t any that would bring Sabrina comfort, at least not right now.
A strangled sob escaped from Sabrina’s throat as she drew a long, ragged breath. Merry cupped Sabrina’s hands in hers and cast about in her mind for words, any words that might soothe this terrible, fresh wound. Sabrina was still trembling, her breath coming in shallow rasping gasps, and she pulled away from Merry and covered her face with her hands. Sabrina saw the world in pictures and parallels, with twists and turns of thought that usually both confused and delighted Merry, but now Merry needed to speak in Sabrina’s language in a way that might help, even in just some small way. So much pain was yet to come.
A Late Hard Frost Page 18