The Seasons of the EmmaLee: One grand ship. Two love affairs, decades apart. An idyllic summer resort town torn apart by betrayal, murder and shattered dreams. (The Charlevoix Summer Series Book 1)

by Michael Lindley

  Jonathan felt her soft hand in his and looked into her eyes and tried to block out all the jealousy and uncertainty about her he knew was unfair. He wanted to tell her to stay. Finally, he managed to say, “This was great of you. Thank you. You’ll have to let me return the favor someday.”

  Emily knelt down in front of his wheelchair. She took both of his hands in hers. “I’ll take you up on that offer, as soon as you feel up to it,” she said.

  “Will I see you tomorrow?” he asked.

  “I’ll be back after classes tomorrow afternoon. Good night, Jonathan.” She leaned over and kissed him again, this time on the lips. Then, she pulled away and walked to the car. He watched her slowly drive away around the long driveway and out into the street. The cool moisture of her kiss lingered on his mouth.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sally was drifting through a dream. Strangely, she knew it was a dream, as if she was watching herself. She was on a large boat and could feel a cold wind in her hair. The waves were large and crashing up over the side of the boat, drenching her. The cold wetness caused her to shiver uncontrollably. She could hear shouting and looked around her to see who was calling. Out in the water she saw a hand disappear behind a large swell of waves. She kept looking to see it again.

  She tried yelling to the person to get them to answer, but she couldn’t seem to get the words out clearly. The harder she tried to speak the more difficult it became. Only every other word seemed to come from her mouth in any clarity. She saw the arm rise out of the water again in the heavy waves, then it fell out of sight. She climbed up over the rail of the boat and jumped down into the water. It was icy cold and she couldn’t breathe. Her clothes felt like they were crushing in on her. The waves swept her up to their crests, then washed over her, sending her downward into a dark green hole, only to be lifted up again.

  She heard a voice calling again. When she tried to answer, a wave hit her and filled her mouth with water and she was coughing and trying to catch her breath. She felt the weight of her clothing pulling down on her and she fought and kicked hard to stay above the surface.

  She screamed for someone to hear her and this time the sound came out clearly and she found herself sitting upright in her bed and her real scream echoing through the house.

  Two hours later she was walking down the sidewalk toward her gallery. It was a little past ten and all of the other shops along the street were open for business. Gwen had gone down to Traverse City for the morning to look at some work they were considering showing. A storm front was making its way in from Lake Michigan. Dark purple clouds passed quickly above and the wind kicked debris along the walkway. She could smell the rain in the air.

  She reached the storefront to the gallery and stopped for a moment to look at the sign on the door…The Thomason Gallery. She stepped back and looked at the pieces she and Gwen had selected to display in the windows. They seemed foreign to her this morning, as if she was seeing them for the first time. She unlocked the front door and entered the shop. Walking to the back in the dark shadows of morning, she found the light switches on the back wall and pushed them all quickly. The room exploded in the brightness of color and shape. She looked around at the life she had chosen and the business she had built. There were beautiful pieces of art all around her, paintings, sculptures and several pieces of her own work. It had always pleased her to surround herself each day with such beauty. She walked among the work and felt its familiar lines and colors begin to reach her and comfort her.

  The quiet of the shop was suddenly broken by the small bell hanging on the front door. The door pushed open and Sally saw a woman and small girl walk in. It was Mary Alice Gregory and she was holding the hand of the little girl. Sally heard the familiar voice of Megan Clark.

  “Hi, Sally!”

  “Good morning, Megan. How are you?”

  Mary Alice Gregory cut in, “Hello, Sally. Isn’t it just a dreadful day out there?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid our week of great weather has passed for a while.”

  “Well, Megan and I are out on a shopping spree this morning. When I talked to Alex, he said he had some business on the phone all morning, so I offered to take Megan and we’re having just a wonderful time,” Mary Alice said, holding up several plastic bags of merchandise.

  Sally could sense that tone in the woman’s voice that always set her on edge. She was relishing her role as guardian for little Megan today and wanted the whole town to know about it.

  “Sally, look at my new sweatshirt,” Megan said. She reached down into one of the bags and pulled out a blue sweatshirt with a large white “Charlevoix” sewn in across the chest.

  “Why, Megan, you’re a true local now,” Sally teased. “Come over here and show me what else you’ve bought.”

  The little girl spread the bags out on the floor and started rustling through them.

  “We have a few more shops to go by down the street this morning,” Mary Alice said, “then we’re meeting Alex for lunch. Depending on his schedule, Megan and I may run up to Petoskey this afternoon. As you know, Sally, there are some darling shops up there I know Megan would just love.”

  Sally swallowed hard and fought to control her words, “Won’t that be nice,” she managed.

  “Look, Sally, a new bathing suit. Isn’t it great?” Megan said.

  Sally reached out to take it from her and held it up. “It’s beautiful, sweetie,” she said. She remembered the sketches she had worked on the previous night on the sailboat down at Horton Bay. “I have something for you and your father.” She noticed the sour look on Mary Alice’s face as she got up to go get her bag. She had drawn several simple sketches of the EmmaLee in different settings and from different angles. She wanted Alex to agree on a direction before she proceeded. “Megan, come over here and I’ll show you.” Sally spread the sketches out on a table. Mary Alice and Megan walked over and stood beside her. “These are some sketches of the EmmaLee I would like you to share with your dad. After you’ve talked about them, have him call me so I can get started on the painting.”

  “These are neat!” the little girl said.

  “What are you working on now?” Mary Alice asked, something just short of a snarl.

  Sally couldn’t help but feel the pleasure in giving Mary Alice some of her own medicine. “Alex has commissioned me to paint the EmmaLee. He wants to hang the piece at the head of the table in the dining cabin.”

  “Well, isn’t that nice,” Mary Alice said.

  “Sally, you’re such a good drawer,” Megan said. “Could you teach me sometime?”

  “I would love to.”

  The phone in the shop rang at four that afternoon. Gwen was closest to the counter and picked up the receiver. “Thomason Gallery, this is Gwen, can I help you?”

  “Why hello Gwen, this is Alex. How are you?”

  “I’m just fine, Alex. Are you looking for Sally?”

  “Well, actually, I have the sketches Sally sent over of the boat. I was calling to see if you and Sally had plans for dinner this evening and if you were free to join us here on the boat for dinner at around seven.”

  Gwen was looking around the shop for Sally, but couldn’t see her. “That’s very nice of you. Let me see if I can find Sally. She seems to have stepped out, or maybe she’s out back. Let us call you right back.”

  “Sure. I know it’s last minute, but let me know if it will work out,” Alex said. “The chef’s putting together a wonderful meal and I have a couple of new wines I would love to share with you. And we need to talk about the sketches.”

  “Sure, Alex, that sounds nice. We’ll call you right back.” Gwen hung up the phone. She looked out at the people passing on the sidewalk, holding umbrellas against the rain and wind, and down to the boats across the road moored along the city docks. Sure, Alex, that sounds just great.

  Sally came out of the back room looking through some papers in her hands.

  They had been quite busy in the shop today since she had re
turned from her trip down to Traverse City. Gwen had wanted to talk to Sally about her nightmare from earlier this morning, but there just hadn’t been a good opportunity and she had been wrestling with whether she should bring it up at all.

  “Oh, there you are,” Gwen said. “You just missed Alex. He’s invited us over to the boat tonight for dinner. He wants to talk about your sketches.”

  Sally slowed and looked at her friend. Gwen could see the sudden indecision across her face.

  “Dinner?” Sally said.

  “Yes, he said around seven.”

  “What do you think?”

  Gwen looked down at the floor, then out onto the street again, thinking through the conversation with Alex and the look on her partner’s face. “I think that… I think you should go. You really don’t need me. He wants to talk about your sketches and”

  “Gwen,” she heard Sally interrupt. “Gwen, he invited us both, didn’t he?”

  “I just happened to answer the phone and…”

  “…and he invited us both to dinner, didn’t he?” Sally asked with a hint of uncharacteristic irritation in her voice.

  “Yes, he did.”

  “Why don’t we pass on dinner and I’ll just plan to stop by there sometime tomorrow to go over the sketches with him?” Sally offered.

  “Okay, I don’t mean to make this into too big an issue,” Gwen said. “I’m sorry, why don’t we go? It sounds like his chef is preparing a great meal.”

  Gwen watched as Sally came over and put the papers down on the counter. Sally reached out and took her in her arms and held her close. Gwen felt her face get lost in her blonde hair and she held her tightly. She pulled back and saw tears forming in Sally’s eyes. “Why don’t we go?” Gwen said.

  Alex looked across the table at the two women who were his guests for the evening. The steward was clearing the plates and the chef had come out to serve another wine. He was filling everyone’s glasses. He couldn’t help but notice Sally and Gwen and been subdued and quiet for much of the dinner. He found himself staring at Sally. When he realized she was looking back at him, he jolted slightly and reached down for his wine glass.

  “This is a wonderful new Shiraz from Australia I would like you to try,” he said. He looked back at Sally and noticed sadness in her eyes he hadn’t seen earlier. He watched Sally and Gwen taste the wine.

  Gwen spoke first, “It’s wonderful, Alex. Can I see the bottle?”

  He handed the bottle across the table to her. “Some friends in New York had this one night at a dinner and it was so good we ordered some for the boat the next day,” he explained. “It’s becoming one of my favorites. What do you think, Sally?” he asked.

  He watched as Sally took another drink, longer this time.

  “It’s lovely,” she said as she looked over at Gwen and smiled slightly. “And the food was… well, indescribable. Thank you again for having us over.”

  Megan had eaten earlier and now came into the dining cabin and joined them at the table. “Hello, everyone,” the little girl said.

  “I’ve been watching Disney on the TV. I love the little boy that plays Beaver in the movie.”

  Alex reached over and scruffed his daughter’s hair as she sat down beside him. “Would you like to join us for some dessert, Megan?” he asked.

  “What are we having?”

  “How about… strawberry shortcake!” he said and watched the smile grow on his daughter’s face.

  The dessert was served and everyone was quiet except for Megan who kept on about the movie and how she thought that maybe Wally was cuter than the Beaver. When the dishes had all been cleared, Alex got up and walked around to fill his guest’s wine glasses and then he went over to get the sketches from the sideboard.

  “Sally, as I was saying earlier, these drawings are terrific and I don’t know if I could pick any one I like better than the others.”

  “Alex,” said Gwen. “This had been a great dinner and thank you for having me, but I really do need to get back down to the gallery to catch up on a couple of things before morning. Sally, you can stay to go through the drawings, can’t you?”

  Alex watched as Sally gave her friend a long and inquiring look.

  Finally, Sally spoke. “Sure, why don’t you go on ahead and I’ll see you later.”

  “Alex, thank you, this has been very nice,” Gwen said.

  He walked up the stairs with her and out onto the deck of the ship. He watched Gwen walk on ahead of him along the deck toward the walkway down to the dock. She stopped at the opening in the rail and turned to face him. She reached out to shake his hand and he leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek. “Gwen, I’m sorry you have to leave.”

  “It’s getting late and I really have to get caught up.” She paused and then said, “Alex, can I be totally honest with you?”

  He hesitated for a moment.

  “Alex, I can tell you have… that you have feelings for Sally.”

  Her frankness caught him unprepared and he couldn’t respond.

  “Sally is a wonderful woman and all I really care about is her happiness. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?” she asked.

  All he could do was nod.

  “Good night,” she said and turned and walked down the ramp.

  He stood watching her walk away, illuminated by the lights along the dock. Well, isn’t this interesting. He sighed and turned and was surprised to see Sally standing in the dark shadows of the ship’s cabin.

  He walked over toward her. She stood motionless and he could just see the outlines of the features of her face, but he could tell she was crying. He came up in front of her and stood awkwardly for a moment, then he held out his arms and moved into her to hold her. He felt her come slowly into his embrace and sink down into his body. She placed her head on his shoulder, looking away across the park, watching Gwen walking up the hill into town.

  They stood there together and Alex could feel her body shudder with gentle sobs. He could feel her tears soaking down through his shirt. He felt her arms wrapped around his shoulders and the closeness as their two bodies pressed together.

  “Sally?” He couldn’t find words. “Sally, please don’t…”

  She pulled her face back to look at him. He could see the incredible sadness in her eyes and he could feel his own tears starting to come. He heard Gwen’s words again in his mind. I can tell you have feelings for Sally.

  She put her cheek up against his and he felt her tears slide between them. Her face was warm and wet and he held her close.

  After a few moments, he began to feel her relax in his arms and she grew still. She placed her face down on his chest, then after a while she looked up directly into his eyes. “Alex, this is so unfair. I’m sorry that”

  He put his hand gently on her mouth and he looked into her eyes. They shined back at him, reflecting the lights from the dock. He let his hand slowly drop from her mouth, then he pressed forward and let his lips brush hers. The touch was electric and he pulled back and looked at her again. Her eyes were closed and he could feel her tremble. He moved his hand behind her neck and up into her hair and pulled her close to him again. He felt the soft wetness of her lips press against his and he kissed her deeply now. He felt the closeness of her and he moved with her in a long, slow embrace and he tried not to think, just feel.

  She pulled back and now her eyes were open. She smiled at him through the tears on her cheeks and in her eyes. They stood looking at each other and he felt a dozen emotions racing through him. He just wanted to hold her and to be in this place.

  A large raindrop fell and splashed on his nose and it startled them both. Then, more drops began to fall and suddenly it was raining hard. He felt the rain soak into him and he watched as it splattered on her hair and her face. It was a cool rain that echoed hard against the boat deck. They both started to laugh and he kissed her again as he felt the rain wash over their lips.

  She could feel the taste and touch of Alex on her mouth as she wa
lked home across the bridge over the channel. She stopped at the center of the bridge and looked out along the channel to Lake Michigan. It was raining lightly and the clouds were sweeping low over the town in the darkness, but she could see the lights along the piers and the large white light sweeping the horizon from the lighthouse.

  She had left Alex standing there on the deck of the ship. She had to leave him, to get away to think through her emotions and the implications of it all, and the words she had heard from Gwen. All I want is for her to be happy.

  She placed her hands on the cold metal rail of the bridge. A car thundered by behind her and she turned to watch the red taillights drive slowly down through the town. A boat was coming in the channel now from the lake and she could see the red and green running lights coming toward her. She turned to keep on along the bridge, then up the hill toward her street and her house.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I had been down to see Jonathan in the hospital in Detroit a month before he was ready to come home. When we had last seen each other, we were boys going off on a new adventure to fight in a great war to protect the world from unspeakable evil. When we reunited that first day back in Michigan it was striking to see how much we had changed in those few short years, not just physically, but in a much more profound way. We had returned not only as men who had matured far beyond our still early years, but also as friends who could relate to each other at a much deeper level. We still had our childhood experiences and bonds. Now, we also had the shared experiences of war and death and survival that brought us together more closely than ever before.

  I stayed with Jonathan for two full days on that trip to the hospital. We both shared our time away at war and the time of recovery after our wounds. We talked about the new worlds we had seen and the new people who had become our friends. We cried together as we talked about the pain of war, injury and of death that became so much a part of our daily lives.