Bowled Over

by Victoria Hamilton

  Jaymie joined Becca and Kevin, who stood at the railing above the river, arms linked, watching for the sailboats to reappear from Fawn Island. Some of their neighbors on Heartbreak Island had boats in the competition, and Jaymie grabbed her binoculars when she saw some sail craft appearing downriver. “That boat in the front is the Heartbreak Kid, out of the Heartbreak Island marina,” she told Daniel, who joined her. “It belongs to Ruby and Garnet Redmond, a sister and brother team who sail competitively every summer. Here, look through the binoculars.”

  “They’re raising the spinnaker!” Becca cried. “Go, Redmonds!”

  Hundreds had surged to the walkway overlooking the St. Clair to watch the end of the race, and applause broke out at the swift use by the frontrunners of their blooming spinnaker sails, fuller sails that caught the wind dramatically as the boats sailed downwind. They made the river a garden of gaudy delights.

  Jaymie jumped up and down. “I love this part of the race,” she cried, and took the binoculars back. Through them she could see Ruby leaning way out over the water, providing much needed balance, while Garnet steered. It was tricky to raise the spinnaker in a race, and some boats were too close to each other to do it, but the Heartbreak Kid was out in front, followed by the Sea Urchin, and both had room to hoist the ballooning sails. The wind was right, and the added pull made both surge ahead, but the Heartbreak Kid sailed to a clear victory, the Redmonds’ third win in a row.

  “That was exciting!” Jaymie said.

  “The Redmonds win again!” Valetta said. They discussed for a few minutes who would be put out by the third win, and who, among those who belonged to the sailing club on the island, would demand that the Redmonds be disqualified next year to give others a chance. The owners of the Sea Urchin were sure to be fuming.

  Daniel listened for a while, and said, “Do you like to sail, Jaymie?”

  “Only as a passenger.”

  Valetta raised her eyebrows and looked from one to the other. “Do you like sailing, Daniel?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “Not much sailing where I’m from. Bakersfield is kinda deserty; more cowboy boots and rodeos than sailing and tea parties. And Phoenix, my company headquarters, is the same.”

  So why had he come to Queensville and bought Stowe House? That was still a mystery to Jaymie. He never had explained how he found Stowe House and why he wanted to live there.

  As folks drifted away from the railing, Jaymie noticed Ella Douglas in her motorized wheelchair trundling down the walkway, accompanied by a man who must be her husband. Her guess was confirmed when Valetta went to talk to them and then beckoned Jaymie.

  The tall, slightly stooped man, his head showing a faint corona of bristle where his receding hairline had encouraged him to shave it bald, smiled. He shoved his hand out to her, clasped hers in his and pumped vigorously. “Hey there, Jaymie. I’m Bob Douglas. My wife told me how you stuck up for her when that woman,” he said, shooting an annoyed look at Kathy Cooper, who was moving her blanket yet again, “had the audacity to accuse her of running over her nephew on purpose.”

  Kathy looked over, as if she’d heard her name, and regarded Bob with a pinched expression. She shifted her gaze to stare at Ella.

  Hoping Kathy wasn’t going to make trouble and confront Ella, Jaymie said, “It’s nothing.” She turned to Ella. “I’m glad you came out for the festivities. I know you’re not feeling well.”

  Ella shrugged, her knitted shawl slipping off her thin shoulders. Her husband retrieved it and tucked it in around her again as she pulled up the fluffy gray blanket that covered her thin legs. “It’s a good day today,” she said, with a faint smile. “Can’t let life pass you by!”

  Matt Laskan approached Kathy, shooting a curious look at Jaymie and the others on the walkway. “Where’s Craig?” he asked Kathy.

  “Gone to the office,” she said, with a disgusted shake of her head. “Can you believe it? Work on the Fourth of July. You really need to pull your weight, Matt. Craig’s been working a lot of weekends and holidays. I know you’ve been distracted, but really!”

  Matt frowned, then shook his head. “He can’t have gone to the office, or at least I hope not. Maybe he went home to work?”

  She regarded him steadily, as if daring him to contradict her. “No, he said he was going in to the office.”

  Jaymie turned back to the Douglases, wondering if she should bring up knowing Ella was Eleanor Grimshaw, but decided against it. “Are you both staying to picnic and watch the fireworks?” she asked them.

  Bob met his wife’s eyes, then shrugged. “We’re not sure,” he said. “Depends on how she feels.”

  “If you want to stay but haven’t brought dinner, you can join us,” Jaymie said. She indicated the low table Brock had set up and the bowls and dishes that were being put out.

  Ella looked undecided. “I don’t know. My diet…I’m such a picky eater.”

  “I’m trying to do more homemade stuff,” Bob said.

  “He’s even trying his hand at home preserving,” Ella said with a proud smile.

  “We’ve got lots of variety,” Jaymie said. Just then, Becca lifted out the lime jelly mold and gave Jaymie a quizzical look as she peeled back the plastic wrap. Jaymie bit her lip to keep from laughing; it looked even worse in the light of day, an acid green nightmare.

  “I made tomato cucumber salad,” Valetta said. “And Violet and Dee both brought fried chicken.”

  “I made potato salad!” Jaymie added. She pointed to her bowl, the square-based vintage Depression glass bowl she had just bought and couldn’t resist using. “I can tell you exactly what’s in it, if you need to know.”

  Ella shrugged. “I don’t eat tomatoes or potatoes. I think we’ll probably go home anyway, at least for dinner. We might come back for the fireworks, if it doesn’t get too cold. Or I’ll send Bob back alone to watch.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t come back here without you, my dear,” he said. “I wouldn’t enjoy myself!”

  Raised voices near them made Jaymie look toward Matt Laskan and Kathy Cooper. That woman was having a banner day when it came to arguments. She and Matt were standing face-to-face. “I don’t care what you say, Craig and I are moving to Toledo,” Kathy said. “I think I know slightly more about that than you do.”

  Matt gazed at her steadily. “I don’t think you even really believe that anymore, Kathy.”

  “I have been planning this for too long to not do it,” she said, her voice trembling with intensity.

  Jaymie was riveted by the conversation, even though it was clearly private.

  “Connor, Craig and I are moving to Toledo, and Laskan Cooper is opening a branch office.” There was a sob in her voice, and she darted a look over at Kylie. Her chin went up and she squared her shoulders. “That is that, and I won’t back down on this, Matt. I know this company can afford it, and we’re doing it.”

  “You are not doing it.” Matt stared at her in puzzlement. “You’re crazy, Kathy! You are just Craig’s wife, not his damn boss!”

  There were tears on Kathy’s cheeks as she said with an ugly tone, “We’re going, or you’ll be the sorry one. You know what I mean, Matt. I’ll make you sorry, and you know I can do it.”

  As Matt stormed off, Jaymie was left feeling disturbed and on edge. Kathy was so clearly unhappy, and if she could just reach out to her…but she was not going to go over there and risk another public harangue. She noticed that Kylie was watching her sister too and hoped that the two of them would find a way to solve their differences. The bond between sisters was far deeper, in her experience, than any between mere friends. She turned back to Becca, Daniel and Kevin with a lingering sense of sadness and a renewed determination to begin to fix her long-broken friendship with Kathy the very next day.

  * * *

  THE DOUGLASES DIDN’T stay to eat. There was far too much food, as was always true at every Fourth of July picnic Jaymie had ever been to. The one uneaten item was the weird green jelly mold that devolved into
slime by the end of the meal, a victim of the heat, and had to be put out of its misery, dumped in the trash by a laughing Daniel.

  But everything else was good, and despite the temptation to stretch out on the blanket after dinner for a nap, Daniel and Jaymie took Hoppy for a walk as the sun sank in the sky behind them. It took longer than expected because there were dozens of dogs, and of course Hoppy had to greet and sniff butts with each and every one of them, including a dachshund dressed as a hot dog and a border collie in an Uncle Sam outfit. Hoppy even had a play-scrap with Junk Junior, a bichon mix who was his best friend. When they got back, all of the dinner stuff had already been cleared away by Becca and Valetta, who had walked it back to their respective houses and the safety of refrigerators.

  “I should have been here to help!” Jaymie protested.

  “You had better things to do,” Valetta said with a wink at Daniel, who grinned self-consciously.

  Cushions and blankets for lounging were brought out of totes, while the fireworks display was readied on the island. Brock, Violet, Valetta and Kevin—who the three Nibleys roped in once they found out he was an excellent card player—played bridge on Brock’s abbreviated card table, while Becca and Dee played dummy euchre on the top of a cooler. Jaymie and Daniel sat together. She petted Hoppy’s head as the little dog draped himself across her lap.

  Brock Nibley called Daniel over to referee and lend his expert opinion to a dispute he was having with Valetta over some computer issue, and Jaymie chose that moment to announce that she was taking Hoppy home before the fireworks and would refill the Thermos with tea at the same time. She walked through the village with Anna and little Tabitha, who was almost asleep after such an exciting day, tripping and lagging behind until her mom lifted her up to carry her while Jaymie carried their basket for Anna. Jaymie fed Hoppy and Denver, made a pot of tea and filled the Thermos, made sure the house was securely locked and walked back to the park, finding everyone just as she had left them, except that Kathy Cooper was now over sitting with and talking to her sister, Kylie, and Andy Walker.

  The discussion looked civil, and Jaymie was relieved. There was something about the day’s events that left her feeling more hopeful about being able to broach the distance between herself and her old friend. Was that crazy? She watched the three adults and tried to figure it out. Kathy was emotional, it was true, but right now, as she talked to Andy and Kylie, she had Connor on her lap, hugging him to her and resting her cheek on his towhead. Kylie was smiling; she reached out to touch her son but left him where he was, snuggled on his aunt’s lap.

  No one who loved a child that much could be impossible to reach.

  Darkness fell, and the card games finished. The town considerately doused the lights over the walkway for the duration of the pyrotechnics every year, so when the lights went down, everyone settled in their spots to watch the show. Daniel reached out to her and took her hand in his as they lay back and watched the shower of brilliant fireworks over the river. She moved closer, into the crook of his arm, and rested her head on his shoulder.

  A contentment stole into Jaymie’s heart as she watched, and she knew that if she could just get past Joel’s defection enough to be open to love, Daniel Collins would make a wonderful husband. If that’s what she wanted. They’d only been going out for a month or so, and she had time before they took their relationship to any further depth. It was all speculative anyway.

  People kept implying that Daniel was so interested in her and that she ought to jump at him. She didn’t see it that way. Marriage was not an experiment, and she didn’t intend to do it twice. It wasn’t Daniel who was pushing anyway; he had been nothing but patient and kind, not pressing her on the physical side of their relationship beyond a good-night kiss, which so far had been pleasant but not earth-shattering.

  She had time.

  A grand finale of pops and booms and crackles echoed off the riverbanks. They all stood, lit sparklers and sang “The Star Spangled Banner” as one last firework burst over the St. Clair, the red, white and blue shower reflected in the glassy surface below. Someone screamed, and someone else laughed and a dog began to howl. Poor puppy, Jaymie thought. Some dog owners had no sense. Dogs hated fireworks. But finally the last sparks floated to the water, and the crowd applauded. It was time to pack up and go.

  Brock meticulously folded up his card table, as Violet, who would stay the night with Valetta, herded his weary, hopped-up, whiny kids down to where their car was parked. He and his children lived on a hobby farm outside of town, and thus the car was a necessity. Becca and Kevin laughed together as they folded their lawn chairs. Kevin had about half an hour before he had to be down to the dock for the last ferry back to Johnsonville.

  “I have to go to the washroom,” Jaymie said, folding her blanket and adding it to the pile in their little red wagon.

  “The washroom? You’re not going here, are you, in the park?” Becca said, wrinkling her brow, her pale face yellowish in the old-fashioned lights over the walkway.

  “I sure am.”

  “It’s a public washroom, Jaymie, and it’s been busy all day here. It’ll be disgusting!”

  “Becca, I’ve had four cups of tea. I need to go! I should have gone at home when I took Hoppy back, but I didn’t think about it. Besides, I don’t have your delicate sensibilities about washroom cleanliness.”

  She strode off, but as she approached the cinder-block building, a square structure with both women’s and men’s washrooms as well as a public drinking fountain on each end, she heard a noise, and forlorn sobbing. Standing in the mud by the water fountain was Connor, Kathy Cooper’s nephew. Jaymie approached, and bent over him. “Connor, are you okay? Where’s your mommy?”

  He stuck his hand in his mouth and shook his head, still making a moaning noise in the back of his throat. She couldn’t make out what he was saying.

  “Can I take you back to your Mommy? She must be here somewhere.” She straightened and looked down to the grassy area where she had last seen Kylie Hofstadter and Andy Walker. There was just enough light from the public washroom lighting to allow her to see. She took Connor’s hand to lead him away, toward the few people who were still folding chairs and blankets as they prepared to leave the park; maybe someone would know where Kylie was. But Connor tugged her back toward the washroom. “Is Mommy inside?” The boy shook his head. Jaymie stuck her head in the ladies’ washroom anyway and hallooed, but there was not a soul inside. The crowd outside was thinning as well.

  “Come on, Connor, your mom and grandpa must be looking for you. Let’s go find them.” She took his hand, but he again tugged her back to the washroom. “Are you trying to tell me she’s here somewhere?”

  He nodded. Darn preverbal boy; Tabitha, about the same age, would have been able to tell her. “Well, where is she?”

  Connor seemed to understand, and he pointed to the washroom, or maybe past the washroom. Jaymie frowned. Was Kylie sick, vomiting behind the building, maybe? It wouldn’t be the first time someone overindulged at a picnic or consumed a bad batch of mayonnaise-laden potato salad or had a touch of sunstroke.

  “You stay right here, you understand?” Jaymie said. Connor nodded and sucked on his fist some more.

  Jaymie, wishing she had brought a flashlight, poked her head around the back of the washroom, where it faced the river. There was a dark hump on the ground. “Kylie, are you okay?” She went over and tried to figure out what was where. “Kylie?” she said, putting her hand on the woman’s shoulder. She wasn’t breathing. “Damn, damn, damn!” Jaymie shrieked. She darted back around the washrooms, where Connor still stood.

  A woman was approaching, heading to the washroom as well, and Jaymie called out to her, “Help me, please!”

  “What’s wrong?” the other woman said. “Are you okay?” She shone a light in Jaymie’s eyes, blinding her momentarily. “What’s up?” She shone the light down to the ground.

  Jaymie recognized her; she was the African-American policewom
an who had patrolled the Leighton’s back alley during the trouble in May. “Officer Jenkins! I know you…remember me?”

  The officer was blessedly calm and quick to respond. “I do,” the young woman said, regarding her solemnly, her glance darting over to Connor. “You look awful, like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s wrong?”

  “This fellow’s mom is…is sick…or something worse…behind the washroom. I don’t know what to do!”

  Becca approached. Jaymie pushed the boy toward her older sister and said, “Can you look after Connor? Kylie is sick. Or…something.” She gave her sister a meaningful look, and then led the policewoman behind the washroom. Officer Jenkins already had her cell phone out, and as she shone her flashlight over the form, she was dialing a number quickly.

  The light played over the woman on the ground as the officer rapidly spoke to someone on the other end of her call. One look was all it took, and Jaymie knew; this was not Kylie, and she was not merely ill. Kneeling in the soft, moist dirt, Jaymie gasped, “Kathy! It’s Kathy Cooper!” She sobbed, covering her mouth with one shaking hand.

  Kathy’s eyes were open and staring, but blood coated her face and soaked the pale T-shirt she had on. Her arms were flung out, one fist tightly closed on some grayish hair or wool, or something like that. As the flashlight flickered, it sparkled off something shiny next to Kathy’s bloody head; a broken glass bowl, one that Jaymie recognized, lay in the damp grass. It was Jaymie’s square-based Depression glass bowl, broken into two glittering chunks.

  Five